Logic like Dalí Clocks

Something to believe in.

2010-12-12T21:17:00.006-05:00

You know, ever since I was young, I always wished I had a cause -- something to really believe in, you know? I used to complain that I wasn't born in the early 1900s, so that I could've contributed to the war efforts in the 'teens or the early '40s. I even used to wish I'd been of-age in the 60s so I could've either helped out or been part of the protests to bring the troops home. I just always wished I had something to fight for.

In my last semester of undergrad, I signed up to join the Air Force. I was beyond excited! Besides the fact that I would have my degree and therefore was eligible to take the officer's test, I was just excited to go to basic, get training, and start being part of something bigger than myself. I couldn't wait to start contributing to society, in a way that I really believed I would love. Unfortunately for me, the Air Force standards for scoliosis measurements prohibited me from joining. I had been so close, and I was devastated when they gave me the news.

A few months later, I lost my brother, and I didn't think much of the military. I went through a depression and a few jobs, then met a new boyfriend and moved out to Western Mass. Out there, I was too busy worrying about paying the bills and trying to salvage our declining relationship to think of much else. I decided I hated my stupid job, and my only salvation would be graduate school, so my sights turned to that. Shortly after, I met Justin, and blah blah love and such, yadda yadda.

Justin is a Marine. He's not active duty, and he finished up his reserve term just a few months ago (and trust me, my relief was great). But he's still a Marine. "Once a Marine, always a Marine," and I don't ever forget that. The bond those boys have is nothing I could ever understand, but I'm not sure I could respect anything more. I think I'm lucky that I didn't have to deal with the stress, worry, and loneliness that I would've had to face if I'd been with him during his active duty, but I also kind of feel that I lost out a bit, too. I didn't get the chance to support him while he was gone, to be strong for him and make sure he knew I would be here waiting for him to get back. I didn't get to write him letters or send him care packages, or feel that rush when he came home on leave, safe and sound. Not that I'm not supremely grateful that he survived all three tours, of course I am! And again, I know the pain of him leaving would've been beyond anything. I just feel like our relationship would've just been that much more solid at the end.

Anyway, I didn't start writing this because I wanted to go on and on about my amazing Marine (believe it or not). I just wanted to let anyone who reads this know that we should all support our troops. All the brave men and women that are serving overseas and here in-country are doing it to protect our rights and freedom. They are the reason I can go to grad school; they're the reason I can write this post! I just hope our soldiers know that their country supports them, and that we're all hoping and praying for their safe returns.

And since it is the holiday season, should anyone feel like helping out a troop, a great resource is Any Soldier. In short, it offers an opportunity for kind-hearted people to donate money and needed items to send to deployed troops, and the packages are labelled "Attn: Any Soldier" so that they can be distributed out to those who don't get much mail -- it happens, because unfortunately, not every soldier is blessed with supportive family and friends. They also have related sites for specific branches; my favorite is, of course, Any Marine. You can put together care packages, or even just donate money (and they tell you exactly what they do with your money, right here). Even $5 can contribute toward getting a package out, so the cost of a fancy drink at Starbucks can help a soldier get a package full of things he or she needs.

One of Any Soldier's partners is Operation: Quiet Comfort, a group that sends supplies to troops who were injured in the Middle East and are now receiving medical treatment. They provide personal hygiene supplies, entertainment supplies (books and such), and quilts sewn to honor the soldiers. They're another good site to check out.

Even though I'm not able to be out there fighting along side all of America's amazing soldiers, I hope they know that my heart is out there with them.

(Sorry for being emo)

2010-06-01T00:10:00.002-04:00

Most of the time, everything is fine. But it only takes the first few notes of a certain song or the smell of a certain food to make a smile disappear. It reminds you of things and places and people long gone. Just a specific phrase, or a particular touch. The memories are nice, but sometimes they only serve to remind you that those things are lost to you. They're out of reach, even if you stand on your tip-toes and stretch your fingers as far as you can. You'll never be that young again, you'll never feel so safe, you'll never know the touch of their skin again.

Most days are fine. But not every day.

Very short update.

2010-04-26T18:29:00.003-04:00

Just wanted to put a little something up:

I've gotten a gym membership to a 24-hour place right down the street, and also have a $10/month membership to Planet Fitness, which I'm going to transfer to the Westfield location (Justin lives there). Once that goes through, I'll have a place to work out whether I'm home or at his place, so no excuses for that! I'm so excited -- running outside hurts my knees and shins, so I'm dying to hop on a treadmill!!

As far as eating, I'm still doing well. To breakfasts, I've added the option of scrambled egg whites with cumin and red pepper spices, coupled with two slices of turkey bacon (only 30 calories!) and one piece of toast. A very excellent meal for under 300 calories, with tons of protein. In lunches, I've added turkey wraps, and I've still got Lean Cuisines for dinner. Plus, I've been eating at least one apple a day, sometimes more.

I also picked up a scale so I can monitor my weight as a way to remind myself to be good :)

AND, to top it all off, yesterday I went out to brunch with eight other people, and even though I was eating out, I still managed to be healthy! I ordered a granola and yogurt cup, and a side salad with vinaigrette dressing. I was so proud of myself!

Nothing much else to report. Told you it was short!

Days 1 + 2

2010-04-15T21:17:00.006-04:00

Day 1 consisted of:

A 45 minute run at 11pm the night before (it still counts).
A bowl of Kashi Go Lean cereal for breakfast. With 2% milk, alas, because I hadn't the forethought to get skim. Roughly 160 cals.
A medium, iced Dunkins coffee with skim milk and two Splendas. Their website claims it's only 30 calories, but I suspect it's probably double that, because of the milk. So we'll say 60.
A SlimFast Strawberry shake, 180 calories.
Then, Justin neglected to inform me that it was his dad's birthday (!!!), so we ended up at his parent's for dinner. Mum made this amazing chicken dish, with a sauce that was made from white wine, butter, and lemon juice. It was FANTASTIC, but unfortunately, I have no idea how many calories or grams of fat were in it. And they definitely talked me into a little piece of chocolate rum cake after :-\

Started strong, ended iffy. But we did take a daytime walk for a little over an hour, and after dinner, we took a loooooong walk for 3 hours. We walk at a fairly relaxed pace, so according to the calculator at Calorie Count, I'd estimate we burned just over 800 calories.

So, my caloric intake for the day was probably right around 1k, and we walked enough to bring it down to only 200 calories. My Basal Metabolic Rate estimate for my height, weight, gender, and age is 1455 (BMR is the minimal amount of calories your body should need to completely maintain your weight if you were to lay still in bed all day). That means -- the good news!! -- that I managed a deficit of about 1200 calories! And we all know that a pound is equivilent to 3,500 calories, so I supposedly managed to lose about a third of a pound yesterday!! Woo!

* I feel I should note (maybe TMI) that I'm not including sexual activity in the list. For "vigorous" activity, they estimate 102 cals/hr, which doesn't seem accurate to me, honestly, especially when they say "Light reclining - Reading" burns 68 cals/hr. Come on, sex is only two times as strenuous as reading a book?! Puh-lease. But, if that's the case, I can still take off another 100 cals per day when I'm with him :)

Day 2, today, was better:

One packet of Maple & Brown sugar Quaker Weight Control Oatmeal. 160 cals.
One french vanilla SlimFast shake. 180 cals.
Six baby carrots. Hard to get an exact amount, but at most, 50 cals.
One Glazed turkey tenderloins Lean Cuisine. 250 cals.
Walked around Westfield for about 2 hours. -400 calories.

And that's it! Also for the record, I've been drinking lots of water throughout the day. And Justin got a really tasty-smelling meatball sub from Subway (mmmmmmmm Subway drool), but I managed to be good and wait until we got back to drink my "lunch" shake. But! That means 1455 + 600 intake - 400 burned = 1255 again! Thus far, we're at 2,510, and I'm not having a hard time. *thumbs up*

I have decided that if I don't give in a little bit, I'm likely to say "Fuck it," one day and pig out. So! Sundays will be my "mischevious day," as my dear boy put it. Why Sundays? Well, specifically because, on the weeks I'm visiting Westfield, we always go to lunch at his parents' house. His mom is an AMAZING (can I emphasize, amazing?) cook, but she's Italian, so I have no idea what goes into her dishes, only that they are delicious. And dinner is also always followed up with dessert.

Justin also suggested, as I lamented over my farewell to Taco Bell's 5-layer beefy burritos (SO. GOOD. But also 550 calories and 22g of fat each, sadly), that I spend non-Westfield Sundays eating healthy, but sneak one in with a lunch salad, or something similar. Genious idea. I think. Unless it just makes it harder to give them up. I'll cross my fingers.

Next endeavor is to inquire at the local 24-hour gym in Auburn, because my knees very much disliked my run the other evening, and if it's cheap, I can have a treadmill any time I like!

Off to a good start :)

Oh, the lives we lead.

2010-04-13T21:04:00.003-04:00

Exhibit A: A goofy picture of yours truly. Excuse the ridiculous expression, it was my twenty-fourth birthday celebration at my favorite dive bar. I realize those of you who are nice may tell me I look fine, yadda yadda, and believe me, I know I'm not 'fat.' But if you look closely, you can see soft, chunky arms, a pooch belly, saddlebags, and oversized thighs. They're not gigantic imperfections, but they could most certainly use improvement.

Exhibit B: My scale. I stand five feet, two inches, and my scale says I weigh about 143 (it varies by up to three pounds up or down each day). As far as Body Mass Index standards, I fall safely into the Overwight category with a BMI of 26.2. Normal weight is between 18.5 and 24.9, so it's not like I'm just squeaking over the line. Admittedly, BMI calculators take no account of muscle mass, which will make a person heavier than someone of the same size with no muscle. They tell you to try measuring your waist circumference, and to worry if it's over 35 inches (for women). Mine is only 27 inches, but my hips also measure 40, which is likely larger than normal.

Exhibit C: My very own boyfriend, the first man in my life who has made me feel confident in my appearance whether my clothes are on or off, agrees with me that I will look better if I lose some weight. He said it in a nice way, and he only said it because I asked, but it still stung a bit. He's always telling me that I'm good-looking -- usually because I just told him he's sexy -- but to hear it come from him was just an affirmation of my own fears.

Exhibit Zero: The final exhibit is non-existant. When it did exist, it was a picture the boy snapped of me when we took a trip to the beach last week. In a bikini; I will pause so you can gasp in shock........ I came across said atrocity while preparing our photos for upload to Facebook, and my jaw dropped in horror. Not only did I appear to be almost twice the size I thought I was, but the cruel beach sunlight highlighted and accentuated the mass of cottage cheese hiding under my skin. Terrible! I shrieked and deleted the offense before anyone else could lay eyes on it and lose their retinas.

So, basically, what I'm saying is I want to lose some weight. Not anything unreasonable, but I figure I'll go in steps. Ultimately, I'd like to drop about 25 pounds, but I don't plan to check my weight every few hours. I'm thinking more like once a week. My goals will be things like going running at least 3 nights a week, or walk at least a half hour 5 to 6 days, and I'm just going to try to eat better and focus on physical activity. Luckily, it's getting warm out and the boy loves going to walks!

I also ventured out and purchased some oatmeal and Slim Fast shakes. They recommend having two a day, but they're $5 for 6 cans, which adds up to $50 a month. That's a little much. So the plan is: oatmeal, Kashi cereal, or fruit for breakfasts; Slim Fast for lunches; and Lean Cuisines (surprisingly tasty) for dinners, with apples and baby carrots and bananas thrown in for snacks. I'm also going to start taking vitamins again to make up for the things I'm probably not getting.

Of course, dieting is not a sustainable weight control method, but I'm also hoping to retrain myself to choose healthier options. So eventually, I won't have to buy Slim Fast anymore, and I'll one day hit my goal of about 115lbs.

I'll keep you updated on how I do. Wish me luck! No, better yet, wish me determination and self control :)

One Glorious Morning

2010-02-16T00:42:00.002-05:00

I woke up this morning, and I laughed. Not just a little laugh, either, but a hearty chest laugh that even drew a few teardrops from the corners of my eyes. I wiped them away with my index finger – first the right, then the left – and sighed contentedly. The morning sunlight was pouring through the window, warm on my face as I stretched my arms over my head, still smiling.

How silly I felt, having wasted two whole years over such a thing. It was certainly a shame to have squandered all that time, but it was also a huge relief. I was so happy to figure out that my big brother was still, in fact, alive, and not a pile of ashes in a metal urn sitting on a bookshelf.

The birds were chirping outside. I rolled onto my side and looked out into the backyard. The grass was as green as it had ever been, the flowers were in bloom, and the trees were rich with color. I giggled, making plans in my head to pack some clothes and drive the hour home to visit him, and maybe even stay the weekend. We did have two whole years to make up for, after all.

This actually occurred a few days ago. The only differences were the fact that I didn't laugh out loud, and that the Boyfriend was sleeping next to me.

That feeling of relief was so overwhelming. I'm not sure I've ever felt so happy in my entire life as I did in that one, sunny, amazing moment.

Then, it was gone. As he is.

.... It never does go away.

I must have done something really bad for karma to treat me like this.

2010-01-24T18:30:00.004-05:00

About a week and a half ago, my boss decided to suddenly cut my hours at work, because he "can't afford" to pay me for 40 hours, despite the brand new electronics and office equipment he just bought (not to mention his personal new Blackberry phone and cross-country skiis).

That evening was my night to visit the boyfriend down in Westfield (Westfield to Leeds is about a 40 minute drive). I planned to talk to boyfriend about him not wanting to make the move to Worcester in the fall, when I ~~hopefully~~ will be starting grad school. For some reason, panic overtook me, and I broke up with him over this. It was completely irrational, and I was hysterical and crazy and awful for the next 6 days, until he finally agreed to speak with me, and we worked things out.

Friday evening, on my way back to Leeds from Westfield, I was involved in my first ever car accident. The plan was to take a left onto the city's very busy main street. The SUV coming toward me was taking a right onto my street, and the other direction was clear. I waited to make sure the car with its blinker on was actually turning, looked in both directions again, then tried to make a speedy entry into traffic. Instead, I made a speedy entry into the car that had been hidden BEHIND the SUV, which had taken the liberty to go around the turning vehicle.

Yesterday afternoon, after my boss made me stay almost two hours longer than my shift was supposed to last, he sat me down and told me that he really likes working with me, I do a really great job, blah, blah, blah. I thought this was my annual review, which was 3 days overdue already. Reviews generally promise a dollar raise, and these days, any extra money is more than welcome.

I did not get a raise. No, instead, I got laid off. He assured me that I've done absolutely nothing wrong, I'm really great, but our collections are down and patient volume is low -- it is the same as it's ever been in the last year, in my bitter but honest opinion. Of course, he'll give me a glowing reference, and extend the very unafforable option of COBRA insurance, and he'll even let me work until the end of next week! Oh boy!

So I go home where the boyfriend is waiting, and we somehow proceed to have an argument and spend the rest of the evening in silence.

He posed the idea that maybe I've run over some innocent animals without knowing it.

Karma, well, she seems very angry with me. I'm sorry, Karma. Whatever it was I did, I'm sorry!

Hopefully happier posts will come in the future.

An actual update

2010-01-03T22:53:00.006-05:00

Okay, so I moved out to western Mass in October 2008. It is now January of 2010. Allow me to very quickly highlight the events of the past year and a half:

• Redheaded Boy and I broke up, got back together, broke up, got back together, broke up and didn't get back together
• I moved from Westfield to Leeds (a suburb of Northampton)
• I got a job working as a Front Desk Chiropractic Assistant -- a glorified receptionist position -- in January of '09
• I have a new boyfriend. He is the subject of the prior post, and he is wonderful.
• I went back and forth between going back to school for my Masters in Psychology and for a ADN (nursing) program. Just this very evening, I discussed my ideas with The Boyfriend, and he encourages me on my latest decision, a Certificate of Advanced Graduate Studies in School Psychology back at Worcester State. In other words, come the end of my lease (June), the two of us should be moving to Worcester -- back home!
• I haven't written much, as you've likely seen :-\
• I got my first tattoo!
• I'm up to... (yes, I had to count) 6 piercings now, and only one is R rated.
• I found a gym that I love love love, but this tattoo (and the holidays) put me out of commission for a little while.
Pictures!! Look see!

The boyfriend (he's being shy):

The tattoo (it's for my mum's tenth anniversary):

The bedroom (counter-clockwise):

I figure a picture update will do for now. I do, though, plan on blogging more, now that I have some free time for a change.

Good lord, I actually wrote something

2009-10-20T00:30:00.002-04:00

Sex with him is like coming home.

I can barely blink when he is over me. He is barely outlined by the faint light sneaking through the blinds, but I know he is meeting my gaze in the dark. My breath catches in my chest and his breath comes faster as he moves inside me. Coherent thoughts are impossible. I run my hands over his back, trace his tattoos with my tongue. I love his skin.

Together, our breathing synchronizes in quick, shallow gasps. His thrusts become harder and faster, his fingers tighten on the sheets, and my nails dig into him. In the afterglow of my orgasm, I eagerly await his. He comes, and a small sound of pleasure escapes him, a sound that causes me several sequential shivers. Heart pounding, he lays upon me, so I happily massage his weary shoulders. My mind marvels at the hollow loneliness that shrouded me when I had first crawled into bed, when he was still at work. Alone with my oppressive despair, I doubted everything and colored my world with pessimism. I laid on my side, looking out the window at the moonlit rooftop beyond, comparing my life to the bleak surface of the shingles. After a time, I slipped mercifully into sleep.

Now, he lifts himself up onto his elbows, watching me. He trails his fingers over my cheek, then follows them lightly with his lips. They roam over my cheekbones, my eyebrows, my chin, my nose, and finally, my mouth, where I accept the most tender kiss I have ever experienced. He brushes the bangs from my brow, and continues to look down at me.

I do not trust myself to speak. I know if I open my mouth, I will tell him I love him, and it is just too soon for that. So I remain silent and concentrate on relaxing, trying to stop my body from trembling. I consider how my room doesn’t feel cozy when he is gone, how the house doesn’t feel like home, and how my bed feels so cold. He brings me warmth, comfort, security; he brings me joy and pleasure, and coaxes an appreciation of being alive from somewhere in me that even I can’t reach. And in some ways, the way he makes me feel is completely indescribable.

When I turn toward the window, his arm wraps around me, and his warm frame snuggles into my back. This time, I admire the beauty of the pale moonlight, the texture of the shingles, and the shadows of the leaves, and blissfully, I drift into sleep.

It's been a year.

2008-12-20T22:49:00.002-05:00

And this is what I have to show for it.

There is a heavy snow falling, but the flakes are fluffy and light, and powder the ground in a soft, white blanket. Leafless trees line my path, dark against the elements. They usher me forward, barring the tendency to veer off course. I tear my gaze from them and look ahead. Down a long, snow-carpeted path is an enormous tree stump, the top perfectly level and flat. Upon it, sits a man.

As I approach, I see he is sitting cross-legged. His eyes are closed and his hands are on his knees. Short brown hair, the same color as mine, covers his head. He is broad shouldered and, though he is seated, it is apparent that he is tall – taller than me, that is – maybe close to six feet. Disregarding the winter environment, he wears a tee shirt with a tie-dye design, jeans, and no shoes. There is no snow on his person.

Guilt nags at me as the snow crunches under my feet; he looks so peaceful, I am loathe disturb him. I make little sound as I draw nearer, yet while I am still a distance away, he opens his eyes and sees me. No surprise mars his features, and the calm in his eyes almost radiates outward. He says nothing as I move within speaking distance, finally settling down on my knees before him. I sit back on my heels, rest my hands in my lap, and look up at him silently.

After a moment, he says, “Hey, kid.”

I blink. “Hi.”

He rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” I shrug.

“You always say that. I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.”

Glancing away, I pretend to be very interested in the laces of my boots. There is a long pause. “It’s been a year.”

“Yeah.”

Another silence. Finally, I manage to bring my eyes back to his, noting how his remained a significantly lighter shade than my own. “I miss you.” My voice breaks and I feel myself tearing up. I look down again.

“I miss you, too, kid. But you shouldn’t focus on the past.”

Like a stubborn child, I whine, “I want to focus on the past. I want to remember!”

He reaches down and lifts my chin. “It’s okay to remember. Just don’t let it ruin your present.”

Suddenly angry, I jump to my feet. “It’s not fair! It’s not fair that, after all those years, I finally find you, I finally have a brother again, and then you’re gone! And there’s no one to be mad at! I can’t be mad at you, I can’t be mad at the EMTs, I can’t be mad at your family or friends or step dad, I—” The next word comes out as a sob, and I collapse into his outstretched arms, hugging him with all my strength, as if to let go would be to lose him all over again.

“Shh, hey, calm down, kiddo. Breathe.” He strokes my hair as I sob helplessly into his shoulder. “I’m always with you, you know.”

Trembling, I shake my head. I open my mouth to speak, but only a tiny squeak emerges, so I close it, take a deep breath, and try again. “There isn’t even a grave, Matt,” I manage to force out in a raspy, tear-choked voice.

“I know. Cremation is more affordable; you know Art and Diane don’t have a lot of money.”

“I know, I know, but it’s just… I just want to have somewhere to go. I want to visit you.”

“You’re visiting me now.”

“It’s not the same.”

“You never did lose that stubbornness did you?” There’s a note of playful mockery in his tone. He sighs. “I remember when we used to play X-Men with Bruce in the backyard. I was Gambit, he was Cyclops, and you always wanted to be Storm. We used spend hours trying to talk you into Rogue, because you look more like her. I once even went over all the differences in Storm and Rogue’s powers to try and talk the sense of it into you. And still, every single time, you ultimately played as Storm.”

I smile against his chest, my cheeks wet and eyes puffy. “I remember.”

“Remember when we would spend hours in your room, playing Darius Twin and Ninja Turtles on Super Nintendo?”

I nod, wiping my nose on the back of my hand, and sit back on the stump beside him. “Do you remember that huge snowstorm, when school was cancelled and the snow was so high that we couldn’t open the outside doors?”

He grins. “And Bruce, Tessa, and I came through the basement to get you.”

“And then we played Omega Virus a hundred times?”

“That was a great game.” He smiles again, a little sadly. “Man, I remember how good your mom’s swedish meatballs were.

“You loved those.”

“I used to eat a dozen every time.”

“How about those little cherry cheesecake cups?”

“Those were amazing. And her kielbasa? Mmm.”

We stop talking, both drifting into our own reminiscent thoughts. Our shoulders press together and I close my eyes, savoring his warmth, his solidity. When I open them, he is looking at me.
“What?”

“I really love you, sis. Don’t ever forget that. Just because we didn’t see each other for a few years doesn’t mean that ever did, or ever will change. You’re doing really well for yourself: your own apartment, a boyfriend that takes good care of you, a cat, a car, two jobs… You’re where I was hoping to be after I finished school.”

My lower lip quivers. “I want you to have that. I wish you were there with me.” My vision clouds over and I, again, find myself in the safe circle of his arms. “I wish you got to finish school, I wish you got a good job, I wish you got the chance to get a new apartment... did you know, right before you died, I was planning to ask you if you wanted to get a place together? Cut down on the rent, see you every day, hang out on weekends—” This time, my sentence is cut of by violent, body-wracking sobs, and my brother’s arms tighten around me protectively. He begins to rock and, after a time, I quiet down, sniffling softly into his neck.

“Hey kid. I gotta get going.”

I sit up, not meeting his gaze. “I know.”

He touches my cheek, one corner of his mouth curling in a smirk. “Same time next year?” he asks, a sadness shining through the joking lift of his voice.

Again, I nod, unable to speak. We embrace tightly, and he presses his lips to my forehead, mumbling, “I love you,” into my skin.

“Forever and ever,” I agree, crying again.

And just like that, he is gone. Alone, I stand up, brush the snow off my pants, and head back the way I came.

Do you recall what was revealed the day the music died?

2008-09-23T21:52:00.002-04:00

So. Uh. Hey there. It's, uh.... it's been a while, huh? Yeah. Yeah, it has.

An update of my life in one breath: I'mleavingmyjobtomovetoWestfieldwithmyRedheadedBoy. S'right. I'm wicked excited -- I love western Mass so hard. I had (have) my heart set on Amherst, but Westfield is nice, too. In January, Boy will go back to school and finish his graphic design/business degree, and hopefully I'll get enrolled at Holyoke Community College for Vet Tech-ery.

As you can see, our apartment is gorgeous -- we're moving in the weekend after next -- and also super affordable! It's only $770 a month, and that includes friggen' everything, even electricity! Yeah, I know! It's right in the middle of everything, too. I can't believe it.

Also, I know what some of you are probably thinking --> Moving in with the Boy? What is she thinking? How long have they even been dating?!

Three months, in fact, and no, I don't think it's too soon. Too each his own, and my own is a sweet, wonderful Redheaded Boy whom I love very much!

(On a side note, the first time he told me he loved me, he showed up with a dozen roses. Yeah, you're jealous. And that's okay.)

Also, I's gots me a fancay intarveeyu with a healthcare staffing agency called Clinical One. It's for a position as a Healtcare Recruiter, so I would be doing some interviews and such. I think it sounds cool, personally. Guess I'll find out!

If that doesn't work out, I'm registered with Office Team, who assured me it'd be easy for me to get work through them, since I've got lots of experience.

And to my blogging friends: I apologize for disappearing completely. I haven't left anyone a comment in... forever! I think it's very likely that I won't really ever come back, at least not to the extent I was at then. Thanks for all your comments and reading my ridiculous posts and such!

To my central Mass friends: I'm not going away for ever -- in fact, Shane and I will probably be back every other weekend! Plus, you're always welcome to visit us; we'll have a couch and an expanse of floor + blankies for anyone that wants to crash. Or a couch-fort, when Mark stays over.

To my western Mass friends: OHMYGOD I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU ALL ALL THE TIME!!!!

End.

Keep living your false life / please wake me up from mine.

2008-08-27T21:04:00.002-04:00

No, that's not me, and it's not my work, but it's a similar setup. In our building, there's less light and lots more papers scattered over our desks, but the general idea is the same. For anywhere between nine and eleven (like today) hours a day, I am tied to one of those little desks, surrounded by mounds of work, but I also get one of those cool headsets so I can continue to do computer work even when I'm making or taking phone calls.

I'm not exactly complaining. I mean, I knew what was coming before I accepted the job. I also don't really mind any of it -- there's just so much. I've been there over a month, and I'm just surprised at how much responsibility I have.

I generally start my day an hour early, so instead of 10am, I go in at 9. Lately, I've been going in at 8:30 to help train the newest girl. I do some copying, then spend roughly four hours of calling doctor's offices and hospitals to get information they should have included on the test requisitions, followed by five and a half hours of taking billing questions (aka angry people who are angry because they've gotten a bill they weren't expecting and want to be angry at someone. Actually, I've only gotten a handful of those so far). Somewhere between all of this, I'm also expected to enter the ridiculous amount of Patient Protection Program forms and payments we get, enter faxes with information, sort and distribute the department mail, and run the financial assistance program.

Needless to say, I've been staying late and skipping lunch breaks. I put in an eleven hour day today (8:30am to 7:30pm), and only took a 15 minute break to run to Dunkin Donuts and get a coffee ~~that tasted like cat piss anyway~~.

Redheaded Boy and I are also trying to start eating healthy and get into shape (oh, we're doing quite well together, thank you for asking :-D ), so I'm planning to go for a run after I finish this post. It's been a long, long time since I've gone for a run. I know it used to be the best part of my day, so I'm hoping I can get myself into that habit again. I also have two different gym memberships at the moment -- though I think one is going to run out soon -- so I'm covered when the weather starts to get cold.

I haven't been doing so good with the diet part, and they say that's about 80% of the losing-weight process, but eh -- Redheaded Boy says he loves my shape and doesn't want me to change anyway *swoon*

So, in summary, this is my life right now: Monday through Friday = WORK ALL THE TIME and occasionally see Boy at night. Friday nights = get drunk. Saturday and Sunday = try to hang out with friends that might forget I exist because I'm never around.

The good news is, I'm making monies and I'm pretty happy. I'd be perfect if I was doing all this in western Massachusetts, but I'm keeping my eye on Monster.com and Craigslist for that.

Sometimes I stop and stare of blankly into the distance, and I wonder.

2008-08-22T20:05:00.004-04:00

Sometimes I wonder, is this it? Is this all there is?

What are we moving toward in our lives, really? Sure, I'm learning programming now so that I can get into a good company and do something fun (sort of) and get paid good money. Programming is important considering the way computers are taking over the world, so why not jump on the bandwagon ten years too late?

Okay, so if all goes as planned, I'll have a good job, and probably a fairly secure future. Cool. Then what? I'm not terribly enthused by the idea of marriage and children. So what's next for me? What new horizon am I setting my sights on?

That's all it really is, anyway. Get over this hurdle and move on to the next. What happens when you claw your way up that last hill and find yourself at the ocean, at the end of the world?

I am not content to sit and watch the view for the rest of my years. What will come of me?

It feels like there is gravel packed in tight between my skull and brain.

2008-08-07T19:35:00.001-04:00

I don't like this two jobs thing anymore, no sir. I could just collapse right here on this keyboard, so I could.

Pukeworthy.

2008-07-31T20:56:00.005-04:00

This is me and my Redheaded Boy. Well, it's not really us, but we are as pukeworthy as a couple walking down a beach around the time of sunset. We'd probably even hold hands.

Don't worry, I'll wait while you run to the bathroom to evacuate your lunch, it's cool.

I was lamenting yesterday about how I don't have time to blog anymore, then decided that I really needed to make a post about last night because it was all so disgustingly cute. ~~Also, I had 69 posts and couldn't help myself from giggling.~~

So you know I work 10am (9am, starting tomorrow) to 10pm four out of five weekdays, and until 6:30 on the other, plus I'm supposed to put in a full eight hours on one of the weekend days (probably won't this weekend). I took my early day last night and had the boy come over so I could cook him dinner. I decided on chicken and pesto spaghetti, bought the supplies the night before, and had him meet me at my house for 6:45.

He called me while I was on my way home at 6:35. I thought he was going to say he'd be late, but instead got, "Uhhh, I think I'm early." So I ~~drove really fast~~ continued along, following all the laws of the road, until I arrived home a few minutes later. We each admitted to missing each other, and then agreed that this was ridiculous, as we'd just seen each other on Sunday! Pukefest.

Anyway, I was terrified to cook chicken (I usually stick to pastas if I'm going to make dinner), but Boy talked me through it. I wasn't so much cooking for him as it was a team effort, in the end. We had chicken breast coated with a flour/basil/garlic/oregano mix, and angel hair pasta with some excellent creamy pesto sauce. Boy had extra chicken (I was excited about that), and my both my grandfather and drunken uncle voiced compliments -- a rarity in my family. Boy and I sat alone at the kitchen table, and I scurried off halfway through the meal only to return with a candle in a jar type deal because I'm corny.

After dinner, we watched a bit of Spaced but got tired of that and decided to go for a walk. I brought him to a grassy spot, and we just laid around. If it hadn't been cloudy? Movie scene cute. Ugh. We're so gross.

On top of all that, we also have trouble saying goodbye -- most of the time, it takes a good twenty minutes, and that's if we're quick about it. I hate us, but I think it's fantastic at the same time. We don't do it in front of other people, I can at least promise you that! But hell, this is my blog, so here's a picture of him because he's handsome :)

So,

2008-07-28T20:04:00.002-04:00

I'm workin' two jobs now. Four days a week, my schedule is 10am to 10 or 11pm, then the other weekday ends at 6:30pm, and I'll be working (probably) at least 6 hours on one weekend day. What free time I do have will very likely be spent with Redheaded Boy (and hopefully our pals on the weekend).

Basically, what I'm saying is don't expect as many updates as there have been lately. Or comments -- I'm already super behind on my Google Reader list :-\

My very first meme (kind of).

2008-07-26T11:14:00.004-04:00

Super sweet Tootsie of Vintage Thirty tagged me with my first official meme! It doesn't appear to have a title so I'll just jump in:

What is your favorite quotable line from a Movie?
I tend to quote whatever I've seen most recently. Of course, when I saw The Dark Knight, I was falling asleep on Redheaded Boy's shoulder, so I can't remember any lines other than, "Why so serious?" My favorite movie to quote is Run, Fatboy, Run (which got horrible reviews but was actually so, so good - plus I'm in love with Simon Pegg), especially the lines, "Wow! You look... great!" and "D'ya think it'd be weird if I took a bath? .... Yeah, that would be weird."

Who is the most famous person you have spoken to?
Unfortunately, I am a bit sheltered. My Redheaded Boy was pretty famous on campus when he was going to Westfield State, if that counts? Or I dated/am super good friends with the guys that own and run Solvo Media? My boss is Matthew Corbett, a pretty well-known guy in the wireless world? S'all I got.

How many bags/boxes of Potato Chips are consumed at your place in a month?
You know, I don't really eat them, so I'm not positive, but I think the guys go through... maybe two or four bags a month, if I had to guess. Which I did. Clearly.

Who is your all time favorite Cartoon Character?
Wile E. Coyote, hands down.

What foreign food dish do you prepare from scratch and serve?
Hi, have we met? I don't make anything from scratch. I am not a cook. Unless you count strawberry-banana smoothies, but I totally buy the orange juice and don't grow my own fruit. Oh, and it's not foreign.

What is your favorite section of the Supermarket?
Probably the pasta aisle. That's were I buy the most stuff, anyway.

What was your high school teams mascot and what were the school's colors?
Oh man. I moved to Auburn right after middle school (that was fun), and was grouped in with the Auburn Rockets. Yes, our mascot is an effing rocket (Robert Goddard and all that jazz). School colors were, I think, supposed to be blue and gray/silver? Most of the apparel in the school store was blue and white.

The rules:
1. Answer the above questions in a blog posting.
2. Identify the people who you are going to tag, and
3. Acknowledge who tagged you.

Alright, well, I have a limited list so I'll tagggg:

Jill - From the Land of Jill
Miss - Rura and Miss
Summer - Random Reflection and Passing Thoughts

Because they are the only ones that occasionally read my posts :)

My story, let me show you it.

2008-07-25T16:12:00.003-04:00

A boy leaned against a lone tree that grew at the top of a gentle slope, overlooking an expanse of wide summer field. Birds tumbled and swooped gracefully on the warm air currents, enjoying the cloudless day. Small mammals chased one another through the unkempt grass below. They kept one eye out for predators, but paid little heed to the child, who they deemed non-dangerous.

The boy pulled his knees to his chest, folded his arms on top of them, and rested his chin in the middle. His eyes were the only part of his face still visible, and they stared unseeingly into the distance. They were red-rimmed and faintly bloodshot, the only remnants of his violent and terrified tears from the night before. He continued to gaze blankly off toward the horizon, wondering when the thunderheads would begin rolling in. Or, maybe he should look for a tornado. Snow in the middle of summer. A tsunami hundreds of miles inland.

Why hadn't the world stopped yet? He couldn't understand how people just continued about their lives as if nothing had happened. Cars still drove, phones still rang, businesses still operated. It didn't seem right - someone had died.

He guessed he still didn't really understand what it meant to pass on - his mum told him to say passed on because it was more polite. All he really did know was that when someone passed on, it was like they left, but forgot their body. He wondered if there were new bodies up in Heaven. Mum had also said Heaven was way up in the sky, in the clouds. She said angels lived there, and they would take care of Dad. He wondered if Heaven got cold at night after the sun went down, and if Dad remembered to bring a coat.

The boy spent a long time upon the hill, wondering. He knew his mother would be worried, but even the thought of losing his television privileges -- or if she was really mad, a spanking -- could not draw him down. He didn't care about watching television if Dad wasn't going to watch The Discovery Channel with him before bed. He didn't even care if he got a spanking - they didn't really hurt at all anymore, he only cried because it meant Mum was really upset with him.

He thought about how Dad was always bringing home old cars and fixing them. He would slide out from under them on that rolling board and grab a rag to wipe his hands on while he explained what he had just done. He always tried to include the boy in his car projects. The boy wondered if cars in Heaven ever broke. He didn't think they would, because Heaven was supposed to be a perfect place. A little distressed, creases lined his forehead. What would Dad do for fun if there were no cars to fix? What if there was no Discovery Channel in Heaven, either?

Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes again, so the boy put his forehead down on his knees and allowed the sobs to come as they would. The sound of his pain put the few remaining animals into cautious stances as the day turned to dusk. The sky grew orange, then pink, then darkened to purple. Still, the boy remained.

The light faded away, and everything turned to black. He could not see.

1

He opened his eyes wide, but there was still only blackness. Darkness and silence embraced him like a cocoon. He feared he had lost both his sight and his vision, but then, as he opened his mouth wide to scream for his mother, he noticed a green light across the room. Blinking, he remembered that they were numbers denoting the time. The alarm clock was on his desk, a respectable distance from the bed so as to force him to his feet in order to turn it off. No snooze button for him.

He flopped back on his mattress, grimacing a bit at the damp feeling of the fabric. It was a humid night in the city. He swiped a forearm across his face, removing some of the sweat that had formed there.

What a dream. It had been so vivid. He hadn't thought about his old man in... well, he couldn't remember. He'd only been six when the guy died. He didn't remember much. He wondered if the part in the dream about fixing up old cars was true, or if it was just mind fodder drawn from his own hobby.

Turning onto his right side, away from the window and the background noise of a nighttime city, he

I don't know what happens next -- rest assured that it is probably something. Or maybe nothing?

Forn... for... fornica... sex.

2008-07-25T09:16:00.001-04:00

So I was just reading a post by Insane Mama in which she repeatedly references, alludes to, or flat out says sex. Along with ~~making me jealous~~ greatly amusing me, it made me think.

Is it terribly unusual for a woman to want sex all the time?

Everyone's heard stories about girlfriends that never want it (I went out with a friend just the other night that suffers through such a thing), and we all know the stereotype that married women are not at all interested. I guess I never really put any belief in the tales of woe.

Of course, that might be because I always want it. All the time. Every minute that I am not having it. I wish I was lying, because sometimes, it gets really frustrating. Like, of, for example, at work. Do you have any idea how long eight hours is when all you can think about is sex? Ohmygah it's awful. I have been suffering through today in just this way.

I like sex for a lot of reasons. I guess the most obvious one is eet feelz gooooooooood, ya? Nothing I have ever experienced has been preferable over sex with another human being, no toys, no self stimulation, nothing. On top of the physical side, it's a great way to know that your partner wants you/finds you attractive, and a good way to feel closer to them. Plus, it's hard to be bored when there's someone else inside of you, you know?\

Side note: A Google Image Search for the word 'sex' (with moderate safe search on) somehow brought up this horrifying thing. On the first page even. Someone please explain?

Side side note: Redheaded Boy surprised me with 'just because' flowers yesterday. I was way more impressed than I let on. Don't tell him ;)

Go press a cancer machine to your head.

2008-07-24T12:42:00.006-04:00

I almost thought I didn't have a topic to write about today, but then a little voice (Redheaded Boy - he actually has a very large voice) in my head (by means of a cellular device) transmitted an idea to me that will ultimately go off-topic on a tangent only I will see the logic of.

See, Boy usually text messages me while on his break at work. I find this adorable. So when my phone vibrates obnoxiously on the desk beside me around noon time, I squeal with joy and snatch it up ~~drooling voraciously~~.

Today, he asked when my break was so he could call me, and I was all AWWWW, Boy, you are the cutest! My boss is so incredibly laid back that I can just walk out of the office without saying anything to take a call, so Boy called, and we had a lovely chat for twenty minutes about Albanian opera singers and my ~~fabulous~~ ass in these gray pants and how he's going to take me out to dinner because he's sweet like that.

Okay, now that I'm done gushing, on to the real topic. Telephone conversations. I hates them. So much.

I know, I know! You're thinking, "What? But you're such a fun and popular and exciting girl with a life and friends - how could you not like talking on the phone?!" You probably weren't thinking that, but you'd better GET to thinking it, or else *shakes fist*. So yeah, no. I hate being on the phone. I hate calling people, I hate people calling me, and I hate any phone conversation that lasts more than four (exactly, not approximately) minutes. I use my phone to say, "Hey, I'm here" or to answer a call from someone saying, "Hey, I'm here" or on occasion, we have a, "Hey, want to come here and do this with us?" That's really the extent of what I use the phone for.

Or at least, that's how I used to be. I mean, I still go batshit insane (but am far too polite to say anything) when a conversation is full of empty lulls, or oh man, I hate it when someone is on the phone dictating what they're physically doing. I. Don't. Care. If you have to do something, just get off the god damned phone and do it.

I know it's easy to say, "Just hang up," but I just don't have it in me. I did the same thing yesterday at the mall. You know those kiosks in the middle, and the annoying sales people that try to make you buy crap you don't need? Well, I had a lady try it, and I actually managed to do a polite "No, thank you," and continue walking (I just learned to force this little maneuver), but then she tricked me by asking me something I didn't quite hear, so I stopped and listened to her go on and on about some nail kit that I actually already own (which I tried to tell her several times). I was there with Loo, and he was super annoyed, but I am just not that kind of person who can blow someone off, even though good lord I know I should.

A good image that sums up me, and then the rest of the world in response to me:

Ah, c'est la vie, no?

Anyway, what I'm getting at here is... what? I don't know. Um. Don't call me, I guess (except you, Boy - I totally dig phonin' with you).

Other random points (this may become a regular thing):

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia is the best show I have seen in a while. I have been recommended many shows since them (such as Curb Your Enthusiasm and The Office), but I haven't gotten around to watching many. IASiP is really hilarious, though, and I wish the characters were real and lived in Massachusetts. Unfortunately, it is not always sunny here.
I am alone in the office right now, and I have no idea where everyone else has gone to. I'm happy with it - I've unmuted the volume on this awful machine and am listening to Explosions in the Sky :)
Redheaded Boy is getting an apartment, woo! The one he's looking at is only 4 miles from my house, too, which'll save us both a ridiculous amount of gas (he currently lives 20 miles away).
I really want to move to Virginia. Random? Nah, my grammy used to live there when I was little. I visited Richmond in April and remembered how much I love it. I want to live in/near Carytown.
It drives me insane that I want to do so many different things.
I just realized that I didn't explain the post title -- I'm talking about how cellphones may or may not cause cancer. Summer talks about it in her new post here.
Also, the picture was a result of a Google (heart Goog) image search for "talking on the phone." Weird, right?

Fin

Wednesday, Typing Day, Idea Day!

2008-07-23T12:37:00.005-04:00

Today is, apparently, the day of great ideas! I've gotten more specific on the mini vacation in September, made awesome picnic-pagoda-books-lunch-and-wine plans for early next month, and am slowly cultivating my dream to live in a Buddhist Monastery (yeah, I already know what you're going to say, so zip it). Maybe the awful rain is inspiring me with its awful... wet... water? Um. Right. Moving on.

#1
So I mentioned two posts ago that Redheaded Boy and I discussed having a weekend at these little cabins my mom used to bring me to each summer, called the Pemi Motor Court cabins, seen ici:

I like to act on spontaneous ideas immediately, so I wanted to go next month, but Boy suggested we go in the fall, when the leaves start to change.

Genius!

So the new plan is for late September or early October, before it gets too cold. I recently mentioned this to the gracious hosts of the dinner party, and Lady found the cabins to be CHARMING (yes, she did use caps). They may rent one of their own :)

Anyway, we will probably be staying in one of the little log cabbies, as pictured ici:

I realize they don't look gorgeous on the outside, but the inside looks like this:

On top of that, the grounds are beautiful, and there's a really cool river behind the cabins! They all have fireplaces and such, too. I'm so in love with that place.

#2
The same Lady and I also discussed her and her Chef moving out to scenic western Massachusetts for her new job. I am sad that they are going (it's about an hour and a half away as opposed to fifteen minutes), but it's a great place to live.

During discussions about the area, she insisted that we go to something she called the Peace Pagoda. Dude. Hell. Yes. I am a total sucker for anything even remotely related to Buddhism or monks or cool eastern religions. There's a pagoda in Massachusetts?! I am there, Lady.

They're moving in a week, and will probably need another week to settle in. After that, though, we are making a day of this. Early (not too early) trip to the PP, a small picnic there, then we are going to the Montague Book Mill, (which, speaking as a total nerd, excites me to no end), lunch/dinner at their fancy restaurant, and ending the night with some wine and relaxed conversation.

I dig this plan. So. Hard.

#3
Okay, now, this one is going to sound weird. I mentioned my dream of spending some serious time in a monastery (I wasn't kidding, not even a little). Somehow, earlier today, I stumbled upon a website called Intentional Communities. IT'S NOT THAT WEIRD, SHUT YOUR FACE. So IC has links to ecovillages and communes and even just co-housing. I don't think it's weird to live close to a bunch of people and hanging out or eating together or whatever; I really like the idea of having a close-knit group to rely on.

Anyway, the website has a search function where you can find a certain type of community and find them in your area (or whatever area you want to go to). I want this. I just need to either find one that exchanges room and board for your labor, or somehow hit the lottery. I'm currently doing a search for ones with the word 'Buddhist' in the New England area.

Think about it, though! I could be one of those 'worldly' people they make movies about. A few years in a commune, working for food and shelter. A few years in a monastery, learning meditation and not speaking a word. Maybe taking one of those backpacking trips across Europe, staying in hostels (that movie was just terrible) and moving from place to place.

I can't even imagine how awesome that would all be.

I'm pretty sure I'm actually a hippie. The only difference is that I like to shower and shave my legs and armpits. Oh, and I'm completely uninterested in drugs. Or beads. Or pacifism.

Dinner party pictures because I like to show off my friends without telling them about it (warning, gratuitous pictures).

2008-07-22T22:15:00.007-04:00

The chef (best ever) and his assistant, hard at work.

How cute is this kid?

They are my most favorite couple ever.

He's trying to get me drunk! Jay Kay, that was my wine.

My date, Redheaded Boy, showing his... skills? O_o

The guest of honor and a friend hiding behind him.

Our gracious (and super awesome) hosts.

Aaaaaand because I'm totally vain, my new favorite picture ever:

Mr. and Mrs. Davis?!

2008-07-22T09:25:00.005-04:00

So. Marriage. Let me talk about it.

I should probably start by saying that I am not completely against the idea of marriage -- in fact, I imagine I will probably even one day end up on that crazy train to Coupledom.

Thing is, if I ever do get married, I am going to be damn well sure that it will work and we're actually going to be content together. I know that doesn't sound like much, but it is. Think of all the stupid kids that get pregnant and then marry, or tell themselves how in love they are and wind up living in a broken down trailer in their family's backyard.

I didn't make the latter one up.

See, I used to visit my grandma and her husband (not my grandpa) every summer when they lived in Virginia Beach, and then continued to do so after they moved to Tennessee. They moved out to the stix to be closer to the husband's family, so it shouldn't be a surprise to know that, while visiting often, I befriended Grammy's husband's great nephew, Jeremy.

Jeremy was my first 'puppy love.' I adored him. We used to play video games, he'd take me through excursions into the woods and surrounding areas (which we got in a lot of trouble for), went fishing, to the movies, late night runs to Sonic... a summer 'romance' at its finest. It wasn't until the last time I saw him, when I was sixteen, that we kissed for the first time. I only remember being incredibly nervous and wondering if my hair was messy.

So now, I haven't seen this boy in roughly six years. Chatting with my Grammy the other day, I learned that, last August, Jeremy got married! What!

Naturally, in my surprise, I asked a lot of questions, which set Grammy off into a bit of a rant about his wife (oh god, he's only 21, he can't have a wife). Apparently, this girl is a horrible beast monster. From what I am told, she is super controlling, demanding, and pushy. She won't let him have any friends, won't let him visit my grandma (she doesn't like some of the people that live around her), and she pushed him to marry her. I know how that sounds, but Jeremy is a bit of a pushover, and this girl clearly saw this and dug her claws in deep.

I can't really feel bad for him, because if he really didn't like it, he is fully capable of leaving her, so whatever -- he's digging his own grave.

My problem is that I want to go visit Grammy, and if I am down there, I am most certainly going to want to see Jeremy and his brother, Josh. BUT, I don't want to meet the wife-beast. I'm pretty good at holding my tongue normally, but I have a feeling I would cause a huge scene if she bitched at him in front of me. I'm not sure why; I just think I would flip my lid.

I'd do it anyway, except that hey, it's their marriage, and I don't want to show up after six years of no contact (Jeremy doesn't use computer much and he's very bad at answering letters) and cause a bunch of issues between them. I don't want to be that girl. S'none of my business. Plus, if I piss her off, she definitely won't let me see him next time I'm around.

I'm so much more troubled by this than I expected.

/rant

Other things I want to mention today:

Humidity is a sticky, sticky bitch, and I hates it (and my hair hates it more).
I got almost 8 full hours last night, and I am falling asleep at my desk.
We are out of sugar, so I cannot make coffee.
I've been waking up really miserable lately, and I think it's because Redheaded Boy makes me laugh so much when I am with him that it just drains the happy reserves and afterwards I am dead inside.
I think we are planning a mini weekend vacation in the early fall to these little cabins that my mom used to bring me to each summer. That is super exciting to me.
Friday is my 'last day' at this job, though I plan to stay here on nights and weekends for the extra cash and to get these stupid files done.

Apologies: better late than never?

2008-07-21T11:49:00.005-04:00

This here is my best friend, Mike. Mike is also my ex-boyfriend; my high school sweetheart, to be more specific (plus, I just like the phrase).

I have called him Mikee for as long as I've known him. No, not Mikey, but Mikee. I wanted it to be different. Typically, when I talk to him nowadays, I refer to him as Moo or Loo, but that's kind of a long story.

Anyway, I was discussing this relationship with Redheaded Boy the other night, and I got to feeling guilty all over again. Y'see, I was an awful bitch to poor, sweet Mikee. Take the opposite of everything I am now (laid back, trusting, thoughtful, agreeable) and that's what I'm talking about. He put up with that for three years, probably because I was his first real girlfriend and he may not have realized that OH HEY he didn't actually have to deal with a crazy woman.

Around 3 months is when the crazy sets in. I was cool with everything until then. All of a sudden, I was all quit smoking and don't smoke pot and no drinking (for the first year, at least) and oh my god if you even look at another girl I'll cut your eyes out. Oh man, that was the worst. We had so many, many arguments over me accusing him of "staring" at other women. I don't know why I was so insecure - he was super sweet and always tried to reassure and compliment me. Ah, the insanity that is estrogen.

And not only did I put him through hell for three years, but when I broke up with him (that's right, I somehow decided that I was unhappy in the relationship), I started dating someone else almost immediately afterward. Because I am a terrible bitch.

Somehow, we still ended up friends after all this (that was at least four years ago), and I'm really thankful that he doesn't appear to hold any of it against me. I suspect that he will remain one of my lifelong friends, even if we maybe move away from each other, thanks to the power of the interwubs.

Dear Loo,

I am sorry I was the worst girlfriend ever. Your next one will be awesome (as long as you don't pick up another crazy Athol girl). If she is not awesome, you will know better than to stay with her, because you do not want another insane uterus. If you do not know better, then I will tell you, because you ~~let me get away with it~~ presumably trust in my opinions, or are willing to listen, at least.

Don't rush into anything, don't lower your standards, and don't settle. You are a nice, handsome, smart boy, and there is no reason for you not to have exactly what you want. I recommend dating around a bit rather than jumping into another relationship. I know it's been a long time, but relationships are like traps sometimes.

You'll do well in life; there's no reason to think you won't do well in relationships.

It would be the most boring movie ever.

2008-07-21T09:38:00.007-04:00

Man, I wanna go to Thailand someday (the picture there). Then again, I also want to go to Greece, Ireland, the UK, France, rural Japan, Germany, Switzerland, Russia, Italy, Brazil, Egypt... well, you get the idea.

Anyway.

Last evening, Redheaded Boy and I were sitting outside his house in my car, as we typically do before I head home. This is the only time I actively support his smoking, because it gives a good excuse to remain in the car to chat.

I want to paint a couple of pictures for you here.

It has been ridiculously humid this summer, and the weather has been all kinds of wonky. While we were sitting in the car, it began to rain something fierce. Figuring we had some time to kill, we reclined each of our seats and played 'Tell Me Something I Don't Know about You' as the rain beat down on the car. Us being thermoregulatory creatures, the windows decided to fog up. Throw in the quiet classical music I had thrown on and the mild glow from the radio dial, and you have a pretty cheesy scene going on.

Before I could blurt, "Holy shit, this is fucking romantic," he waited for a quiet moment, then commented on how much it felt like we were in a movie. I agreed, we made vomiting sounds, there was laughter.

After a while, the car got much too hot, so I suggested we stand in the stupid rain. He had a better idea and we went to stand in the doorway to the barn. The barn that houses a Corvette. On a warm, rainy night. Yes, we even did the whole girl-leans-on-boy-who-leans-against-door-frame-with-arms-around-each-other-while-he-smokes-a-cigarette thing. Seriously. It was disgustingly cute. In a comfortable lull, I actually entertained the idea of what the world would look like in black and white.

He remarked about how this was also like a movie scene. There was more pretend vomiting.

"Skip to the end..."

All I'm saying is I'm glad my life is not a movie -- SO. BORING. Honestly. It would probably turn into a cult film and be hailed as so terrible that it's good (something like Snakes on a Plane), and I'd be famous.

I don't want to be famous. I like blending in.

This is a terrible idea all around, s'all I'm saying. Please, no one approach me with a script. Unless it has dinosaurs. I'm down for that.

And so it has begun.

2008-07-18T09:12:00.008-04:00

I have a cup of coffee sitting next to me again. It cooled to a drinkable temperature, and then somehow, 3/4 of it disappeared down my throat in two minutes. And this time, it actually tastes... dare I say it.... good (though, really, that might be the seventeen teaspoons of sugar in it).

This is terrible. I am already trying to plan out my next cup, and I am quite horrified by the fact that we appear to be just about out of sugar here at the office. I will later try to talk the redheaded boy into a trip to Dunkin Donuts when I see him later -- he is going to laugh maniacally, because coffee is one of his things. Also, he finds amusement in corruption. Either way, my response will be mock anger, which will probably change to ill-contained joy when he agrees to go with me.

The Devil's Cup. I know absolutely nothing about this book other than the title is quite apt for this awful stuff. Good work, Mr. Allen.

Stay tuned for updates on my energy level, inevitable crash, and slow leveling out. Yesterday, I had about three full hours of hyperactivity, followed by an hour of yawning and dropping eyelids, and then I came back to normal for the rest of the evening. We'll see how it goes on a full night's sleep.

Edit (10:12 AM): About an hour after I wrote this, I was lamenting the lack of sugar here when a little voice in my head piped up with, "Hey, hey, yo, hi, hey! Woman, there is a Dunkin Donuts right down the damn street." And I was all OH YEAH, I'M RETARDED! I'm so going there for lunch. And for lunch, I mean my very first store-bought coffee ever. Oh muh gah I'm excited about that, and that makes me cry a little. On the inside.

Edit #2 (11:35AM): I'm starting to calm down now, but it seems really gradual this time. I'm perfectly okay with that. I'm a bit concerned, though, because now I just keep glancing at the clock, waiting for an acceptable hour to make the DD run. Like a crack addict. If they sold crack at Dunkin's. Hmm.

Edit #3 (12:51PM): I just returned from Dunkin Donuts with a medium cup of coffee. Yes, seriously. This is a bad sign. Did you know they make coconut coffee? Yeah, it doesn't really taste like coconut, but it is hella tasty. Also, please slap me for my use of "hella."

It's the Devil's juice...

2008-07-17T10:39:00.007-04:00

Let me tell you a story about a little girl. Said little girl lived with her mother, but used to spend every other weekend over her grandfather's house. Grandfather was a slave to several vices, including gambling, smoking, and a funny little thing called coffee.

Little Girl was a curious little creature. She and Grandfather would watch television in the evenings, and when Grandfather would leave to make them some awesome buttery popcorn, Little Girl would steal a sip from his unsupervised coffee mug. Grandfather would pretend not to notice, despite Little Girl's ~~shit-eating~~ mischievous grin when he returned to the room.

Over time, Little Girl sneaked bigger and bigger sips, finally getting to the point where a half full coffee cup would become mysteriously empty. This may explain why she only grew to be 5'2", but that is another tale. Eventually, Grandfather took his mug with him, because he believed caffeine was unhealthy for sweet Little Girl.

I was, at most, five years old when this occurred. Since then, I have never had another drop of coffee... until today. Today, I decided that since I'd had only 3 hours of sleep and quite a few glasses of wine last night, I would choke down a cup of awful, awful coffee. And I grudgingly admit that I feel pretty good after having it.

But now I want another.

Look at it. Just sitting there, trying to be cute, trying to lure you in. Don't let it fool you. It's the Devil's juice, that stuff! It's all, "Yeah, you wanna drink me. Yeah, I'll make you feel good. Yeah, I taste pretty awful, but you get used to it. Yeah, do it. Have another. Dooooooooooooo it."

Well, you shut up, you monster! I don't have to listen! I can cover my ears and sit on the floor, rocking back and forth and singing under my breath to drown you out. Don't think I won't -- you don't know what I'm capable of!

To all non coffee drinkers: don't be tricked by the tricky coffee's tricky trickery. It's all a clever ruse for a conspiracy that I don't dare pretend to know what it is. Also, beware of tea -- I began drinking tea only a few months ago; it is a gateway beverage. It opens you up to other beverages. Consider this your warning.

Trust no drink.

Edit: It is now 12:06PM, and I am SUPER hyper. Like, bouncing my leg 75 times a minute hyper. ~~This is awesome~~ Beware the side effects!

Now I have to pee again.

"You put your tongues in each other's mouths?! Gross!"

2008-07-16T12:27:00.004-04:00

The title of this post is a sentiment that I related to one of my friends back when I was fifteen or sixteen and in high school. My friend loves to ~~embarrass me~~ tell that story to new boyfriends. What can I say? It seemed pretty gross to me at the time.

I didn't actually have my first kiss until I was almost seventeen, probably because my middle school and early high school years were ~~full of fashion mistakes and bad haircuts~~ my super shy years. It just so happens, I'm still not big on the whole use of tongue.

I've had a fair amount of different boyfriends since that first kiss, and I've noticed that they all have one thing in common -- each one of them kisses differently.

Have you ever experienced that person that seems really intent on licking your tonsils? I've had him, and it's the most awful thing ever. I think the sailor in that picture was going for the esophagus. I mean, who ever taught them that choking your date to death is a good idea?

I find that the only way to handle this is to pull your head back. I absolutely do not recommend kissing them while laying on your back -- then you're trapped! Beware accidental suffocation!

How about the type of kisser that just kind of puts their ~~slug~~ tongue in your mouth and it just lays there, like it's dead? I have never actually kissed anyone who does this, but I've heard stories. And been grossed out by all of them. I don't understand the reasoning behind it, myself; how could that possibly be a pleasant sensation?

Then there's the non-participating kind of kisser. You know the type: they don't really open their mouth much, don't turn their head when you do, don't put their hands on you, and do not react at all if you do manage to get your tongue involved. They're always tense, too, like they're scared of what you're doing to them. It's super creepy because it feels like you're making out with someone very inexperienced (i.e. a child).

Or, there's the kind that opens their mouth far too wide ~~and eats your face~~. THAT is also very unpleasant.

Of course, on the other hand, there is my favorite type of kisser, the relaxed type that just sits back and enjoys the ~~inappropriate groping~~ making out. That would be the one that sticks mostly to lips-only kisses with a half-open mouth, changes head positions (right? left?), gets hands involved with the neck, hair, and... et cetera, varies speed and pressure, and makes it generally clear that they are enjoying it and having fun, which is really the whole point.

I don't really have a point to make here. I've just been ~~fantasizing about the boy's lips~~ bored at work and thinking about the subject.

NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT

We're having a little goodbye dinner for my friend tonight. He is moving all the way to Chicago to go to grad school for public administration. Apparently, the appropriate goodbye is a plateful of fajitas (Fah Jee Tas) with a small group of your close friends.

I am very proud of him and think the path he has chosen is a great one, but it really blows that he's leaving. We have all come to a consensus on this. So to him, I say good luck, and also, if you don't come back I'll ~~break your legs~~ be upset.

A boy I know.

2008-07-15T12:01:00.007-04:00

There is a boy I know who is sweet and helpful and funny and smart. He loves his family very much and does his best to take care of them and be there for them when they need him. This boy is artistic and polite, creative and caring, hilarious and thoughtful, all at the same time.

As you may have ascertained, I think very highly of him.

Unfortunately, this boy has an awful lot on his shoulders at the moment. From my perspective, it almost seems as though he is the adult of his household, and things are sometimes expected of him that shouldn't really be his responsibility. He appears to be expected to take care of things that he shouldn't be, or blamed for things that are not his fault. His family is working through some issues now, and I really feel like he is getting a lot of flak and unnecessary stress from everything going on around him.

Of course, I know very little about the situation, as I am not involved. I could easily be wrong -- and I am most certainly biased -- because I don't know the situation other than what I have seen recently with my own eyes. I want this to sound like a disclaimer, because it is.

All I am trying to accomplish here is to let this boy know that I am one hundred percent there for him if he needs someone to talk to, or just lend moral support. I will not ask questions that don't need asking, I will never judge, and I will always lend an ear, arm, or shoulder without hesitation. He has many other wonderful friends, as well, and I'm sure they would all do the same.

I just want him to know that I will be right here if he needs me, and there is absolutely no need to apologize.

Fuses and breakfast and cloudy days.

2008-07-14T10:56:00.003-04:00

I set my alarm for 6:30am, as I always do. But when it went off at 6:22am (I set my clock to be 6-8 minutes fast for some reason), I did not get up. No, I reset it for 7am and went back to sleep for a useless half hour.

I realize for most people, that's not a big deal, but I, while not being a morning person, am one of those people that's on their feet the moment the alarm sounds. So for me to reset it to a later time was very unusual, and only means I was very, very tired ~~because I was out being irresponsible until 2:30am~~.

Anyway, this development has, thus far, thrown my entire day off. Whenever I don't sleep enough, I wake up famished, so my first thought after some angry, I-hate-life-right-now cursing was FOOD. I stumbled downstairs, filled a mug with water, threw in a teabag, and popped it into the microwave. Before I could even push the 2 button, ~~the electromagnetic static jumped from my finger to the machine and~~ the power suddenly decided it wanted to fuck with me, too. Everything in the kitchen turned off.

I've only had a frown to rival this morning's once or twice ever.

I lean to my left and reach around the corner to flick the bathroom lights. Nothing. Is it the whole house? No, definitely not, I can hear the fan in the living room still on. The 'fridge is still running ~~so I went to go catch it~~. I go back upstairs and find that EVERYTHING in my room is off. Everything, even my computer (a surge protector won't save you from power outages).

At this point, I am pissed. No microwave for tea, no computer for entertainment while I drink it, and no power for the flatiron so I don't look like I stuck my finger in an electrical socket (the humidity does it to me). Everything I start my morning with is out of service.

I have realized by this point that I have blown the fuse that controls the northern side of my house. Problem is, I'm a super chick when it comes to matters like this -- I have no idea how to change a fuse.

..... *Continues being pissed and eats cold cereal*

As it turns out, in our house, you don't even have to change the fuses, or something. There's a switch that you flick once, then flick back on, and magically the lights return. That's it. I almost missed my morning tea, left the house late, arrived at work less early than usual, and now cannot focus on anything (it's seriously taken me forty minutes to write this little post). And all I had to do was go into the basement and flick a stupid switch.

Seriously. I'll never be able to live alone.

Note: I realize that I changed tenses at least once or twice. Here's the thing: ~~I don't care~~ I'm tired and cranky. Leave me alone.

Just a brief note...

2008-07-11T11:18:00.004-04:00

See this? This place houses a company called Athena Diagnostics. This, my friends, is the place where, in two weeks, I will be WORKING FULL TIME AND FOR GOOD MONIES (and how cool is that building?!)! I went in for an interview at 9am this morning, left at 10am, and got a phone call about coming on board literally a half hour later. The lady was all, "Yeah, [the interviewers] just loved you, and they told me to call you right away, and our benefits are AMAZING and there's even a signing bonus and we'll pay you an absurd hourly wage will you please work for us?"

Of course, I was all, "~~FUCK YEAH, LADY~~That would be wonderful, thank you very much!"

I may elaborate more later. Or not. Who cares, I'm wicked (yes, wicked - I'm from Massachusetts) excited!!

Here's why Stephen King is amazing.

2008-07-09T22:22:00.005-04:00

So yes, I'm actually going to post a quote from a book. Trust me, though, it's a good one. This man is a genious - hell, the title of this blog is something I stole from his Bag of Bones (really good, by the way).

Anyway, if you have the same copy of Lisey's Story, this is from page 17 to 18. I don't think I even have to say anything about it. It's just so... perfect.

"She lay there for a long time, remembering a hot August day in Nashville and thinking--not for the first time--that being single after being double so long was strange shite, indeed. She would have thought two years was enough time for the strangeness to rub off, but it wasn't; time apparently did nothing but blunt grief's sharpest edge so that it hacked rather than sliced. Because everything was not the same. Not outside, not inside, not for her. Lying in the bed that once held two, Lisey thought alone never felt more lonely than when you woke up and discovered you still had the house to yourself. That you and the mice in the walls were the only ones still breathing."

Interviews, interviews.

2008-07-09T14:09:00.005-04:00

I've been busy this week. Well, busy for me, which means just slightly more obligations than work alone. As a matter of fact, at 7:30am today, I had one interview (Job #1). Tomorrow, I will be calling my high school to get transcripts for the nursing program at Quinsigamond (WHY ON EARTH they want high school transcripts when they have my final college transcripts, I do not know) in the morning before work and also plan to scout out the place of my Friday morning interview (Job #2) if I don't today. Plus, I have to attend a 'Health Session' for Quinsig on Tuesday morning, even though they're not accepting people to the nursing program until Fall 2011. (Yeah, three years. Seriously. How much does that suck?)

I also have a friend's I-finally-quit-my-job celebration cookout and another friend's birthday party this weekend, but those are ~~good opportunities to get drunk~~ fun things, so they don't count. I'm also hoping to get some ~~make out~~ chill out time with a certain redheaded boy (I need to come up with a good nickname for him) and possibly get some semblance of a tan at my friend's lakehouse while I'm at it.

Poor, busy me.

Anyway, the interview this morning went quite well, and I am relatively positive that I will be offered a position fairly soon. It pays more than my current one and I get to interact with people instead of the ~~horrorshow that is the~~ Internet. They even have some part time positions, which would be awesome, because then I could talk my current boss into letting me turn this job into part time as well, so I could have both and make money and not be guilty!

YAY HOORAY WOOT so what's the problem, lady? Weeeeell. Let me just tell you.

I don't want it.

Yeah, that's right. Good job, probably not too hard, pay isn't bad (I get a $1.25 raise after 3 months, too), MUCH closer to home (goodbye 45 minute commute) very good experience opportunity. Why wouldn't I want it?

Because I want Job #2! I haven't interviewed for it (Friday at 8:45am), I don't really know what I'd be doing, I'm not even exactly sure where it is. So why would I want this mess? Oh, because it's a big company and they have AMAZING benefits! Health, dental, vision - I haven't had that kind of insurance since... forever! There's vacation time, sick leave, and even personal days. On top of that, they do 100% tuition reimbursement including money for lab costs and textbooks as long as you're going for something related to the job - hellz yeah I'll go back to school for them! I want to have, like, 4 different degrees. ~~Show 'em what else they've won, Johnny~~AND, as the cherry on top, they put 4% (based on your earnings) into an automatic 401k plan... even if you don't put any money into it! I might be the only person really, honestly impressed by this.

Also, I suspect that they have cubicles. I've never worked in a cubicle. I am also the only person on earth excited by the idea of 'personalizing' my cubicle. I have issues. I, apparently, am some kind of corporate whore (but I swear, only for money and power). Perhaps it is the kind of job with promotions. I've never had a promotion before.

...... Promotionnnnnnnnnnsssssssss.

Self realization?

2008-07-08T15:49:00.013-04:00

I've been learning things about myself lately that I didn't realize before. For example, it turns out I have a thing for redheaded boys. This preference did not actually occur to me until I discovered how much I love [boy's name]'s hair. Obviously, he is a redhead. Following this discovery, I put the pieces together and realized that I have adored reds since meeting ex-boyfriend's redheaded brother. I don't know if that triggered my sudden magnetic pull toward redheads, but I can't remember having a preference before him. Either way, I can confidently admit that I dig redheads (mainly male, but there are many hot redheaded females, as well) without throwing in an "I think" after saying so.

Somewhat in relation to that, it has occurred to me just today that I am an incredibly stubborn person. See this?:

Yeah, that's me. I'm not so much talking about little things -- I can admit when I am wrong, usually, and even apologize for it. But I am most certainly the kind of person that, if pushed, will refuse to budge. Push harder, I'm going to fight harder. Pull on my face... well, I hope no one pulls on my face like that.

I don't care what it is, I just hate to be pushed on anything, even something I'm interested in. If you said, "Jamie, you have to go play in that pit of plastic balls and then come have a seven scoop ice cream cone," I'll claim that ball pits are retarded and I'm not hungry. The former statement is a bald-faced lie, and the latter is illogical -- you can NEVER be too full for ice cream.

"Jamie, you have to go to college." Fuck college. "Jamie, apply to grad school." Screw that. "Jamie, write a fucking story." Stories are for assholes. "Jamie, take this free money and go buy a Ferris wheel to keep in your yard." ... Okay, no one actually said that one.

The good news is that I almost always come around if it is something I want to do or think will be good for me to do. Obviously, I did go to college, and I did apply to grad schools. I still write when I want to (the only reason I don't love school is that I hate being pushed into doing homework and papers), but at least I'm writing.

And who wouldn't want their own, personal Ferris wheel?

I do the same thing in relationships. I dated a guy for a short period (a month or two) who was always accusing me of not putting enough effort into things. He tried to push me into contacting him more and spending more time with him and being generally more aggressive. Needless to say, when I rebelled and did the opposite, we didn't stay together much longer. You just can't do that to me.

You know, I think this could be related to how pissed I get if a guy pushes on the back of my head during a blowjob - not that anyone likes it, but most women settle down after a bit. Not me. I get angry and defiant and that's that.

I guess, in conclusion, I'm just saying: don't tell me what to do and don't choke me with your penis. I am fully capable of making my own decisions (and deep throating), but I will do so on my own terms.

Sweet, cute, innocent... death metal?

2008-07-03T10:53:00.005-04:00

I am at work right now (there is a reason I don't deserve a raise). I'm sitting at my desk, in the office that I have all to myself, with ~~torture devices~~ files to my left, tea in my hand, and my iPod in my ear. I can almost imagine my brother's picture smiling with me when some heavy Shai Hulud comes on. It occurs to me that any coworkers who happen to notice the iPod will likely assume I'm listening to some ~~Paris Hilton~~ girly pop songs. Those of you who know Shai Hulud will see how ridiculous this mental picture is. Those of you that don't, well, picture this:

You work in a very small office (5 people total). You and the other three people have been there for years, but in February, you decided to hire someone to enter all the files into the database. This girl is quiet and shy. She generally only responds to conversation, never initiates. Today, she is wearing a fluffy skirt and her hair down. When you bid her a good morning, she turns and, with a sweet little smile, squeaks out the same to you. You happen to notice she's listening to her iPod.

Now, think about Shai Hulud. If you don't know them, think of heavy guitar, fast bass, and the singer screaming, "I'm prepared to fight humanity every day FOR THE REST OF MY LIIIIIIFE!"

I had Shai Hulud on during my morning commute, and was happily singing along to A Profound Hatred of Man. Cheerful, upbeat, childlike me was singing/screaming at the top of my lungs, "If these hands could only kill, I'd cleanse the world with IT'S OWN BLOOOOOD!" Good morning, Massachusetts.

I just think it's a funny that people think I'm so ~~boring~~ innocent and naive. People, I am not.

Possibly the best conversation ever (slightly abridged).

2008-07-03T10:00:00.001-04:00

Friend: What are those round candies?

Me: ... What, like Lifesavers?

Friend: No, no... they're all round and in a stack in the packaging

Me: ...... Gummi Lifesavers?

Friend: No, hard candies.

Me: Creamsavers?

Friend: Smaller than those. Different colors.

Me: ......... I don't fuckin' know.

Friend: Oh right, they're Smarties!

Me: ..........

Friend: This kid has a belt that holds about 20 or 30 packets of them.

Me: .......................... That is awesome.

The speed of light society.

2008-07-02T19:20:00.008-04:00

There's no doubt that the one recurring theme in today's America is ~~obesity~~ speed. Everything has to be fast: fast cars, fast service, fast ~~sex~~ food. People are always in a rush, even when they have nowhere to be (I've admittely been guilty of such). We exceed the speed limit, tailgate, get angry when our waitress forgot something small and has to run back to the kitchen to get it, complain loudly when our meal takes more than ten minutes, and make those annoyed sighing sounds when someone takes too long to pay for their groceries and holds up the line all of four seconds. Look, lady, I don't care if you're seventy and have a broken leg but still have to take care of your ailing husband and your granddaughter's year old love child -- I GOT SHIT TO DO!

Okay, so I might be exaggerating. A little. Maybe.... or maybe not at all. Either way, food and driving and such are not the only things that are moving too fast for my tastes. There are also the big Rs.

RELATIONSHIPS.

Remember back in the sixties? Women used to wear those stupid poodle skirts and short-sleeved sweaters (who ever invented those ridiculous things?), and guys used to slick back their hair and dress nice:

(This picture is not actually from the sixties, and I didn't get him to sign a release, so let's hope he doesn't deny the verbal agreement and sue me. Handsome, though, ain't he? :-D )

Back then, people used to do this thing called dating. I know that may sound kind of foreign to some of you, but listen here: it exists! No, no, it's not the same as "going out" -- going out suggests an exclusive relationship. See, dating is just what it sounds like - going on dates! You go on dates, get to know each other, and then decide if you want to begin an actual relationship.

Yes, yes, I realize that sounds old fashioned and boring. But let me tell you -- it's a lot easier to stop seeing someone you're not interested in if you're just dating, as opposed to having to go through the break-up process. Easier and less emotionally messy.

All I'm saying is slow the hell down, people. There's absolutely no reason to leap headfirst into a relationship with someone you hardly know just because you "kinda had fun together that one time." I'm just saying it's a little quick to go out once, then talk about moving in together and all the children you'll have and where you'll live and what the wedding will be like.

Puke sequence activated: *gag*

What ever happened to taking the time to get to know someone? To enjoy their company for a while before putting all the pressure of a relationship on the two of you? I happen to find that taking things slow makes me like a person so much more than if we jump right into it (in all honesty, if things move that fast, I often lose interest). A little mystery adds an element of excitement to everything! Not knowing when you'll see each other next adds a bit of sweet longing for that next meeting!

Does anyone follow me? At all?

Eh, screw you guys. You're all dirty whores.

Life is...

2008-06-29T19:40:00.003-04:00

There are a million words or phrases you could use to complete that sentence: shit, being alive, death, art, makin' babies, consciousness, yadda yadda. I wrote today that I think life is "just a series of let-downs combined with a perpetual hope that the future will bring something better."

If you think about it, doesn't that make sense? Especially for 20-somethings in lower middle class suburban New England like myself. Got a new job that it turns out you hate? No worries, you'll get a better one eventually. Really like someone but find out it's pretty unlikely you'll ever have them? Oh, whatever, someone better will come along.

Is this existence? Is this really what it's supposed to be? You just constantly strive for better things, better jobs, better boyfriends or girlfriends? Then what, you have kids and strive for better things and lives for them?

I'm not sure I see the point in any of it. What if there isn't anything after this life? If there's nothing to look forward to, why bother with anything at all?

What if there is something after this? Is it just a pointless circle that you go around and around forever and ever? Or is it like Buddhism's Nirvana, a state you only get to after you have perfected your soul throughout your many reincarnations?

If there's an ultimate goal... what's next? What comes after that?

I guess I'm having a mini-existential crisis. I've had a real one before, and let me tell you, that was not a good time. I'm pretty sure that's why people commit suicide.

Have you ever seen the early evening, post-rain glow of a cloudy sky? That light makes me feel lonely and nostalgic, but it's not really a bad feeling. I'm calm and relaxed, and I don't mind being alone, but it makes me yearn for all the things and people I've lost. The people others have lost. What kind of life is this, where we just lose those we love and move on?

I can see my brother's picture on my nightstand, and I can almost hear him trying to reason out answers to some of my questions. I know by the end of it, I'd have my hope renewed all over again, and wouldn't have another dive into the world of Nihilism for a couple months. He was always good at that.

I do apologize for the dismal post, but hey, it's my freakin' blog.

Some things you never, ever cared to know about me

2008-06-23T11:11:00.011-04:00

I don't try to fool myself into thinking I have a blog audience here. If I did more to promote it (on sites like blogcatalog.com, maybe), I probably would. Really, though, it's just a place for my to vent and occasionally send a friend a link so I don't have to explain something again.

On that note, I've been reading Rura and Miss, a pretty awesome little blog about a pretty awesome little lady. She likes to keep up with blog trends and the like, so I've decided to steal '100 random things about myself' (her first half est ici) from her because I'm bored at work.

Here goes.

1. I have an unnatural obsession with cats.
2. I also have an unnatural obsession with my bangs - they have to be straight all the time, or I'm angry.
3. I seem to have a penchant toward being obsessed with things in general.
4. My obsessions are usually short lived, but I don't think it ever goes away, just switches from thing to thing.
5. I'm just realizing how hard this thing is going to be.
6. One of my big toe nails is always, inexplicably cracked. It doesn't seem to go away and I find this weird.
7. I love my car.
8. My car is actually my first car ever. It's a maroon 2001 Dodge Neon.
9. I only got it last May, when I was 21.
10. I didn't get my license until I was halfway to age 19.
11. I've been in countless car accidents, but never while driving.
12. My mother and my high school friends were/are terrible, terrible drivers.
13. I get really, really angry at bad drivers.
14. My high school sweetheart was a good driver!
15. He was from Washington (state) and claimed that Massachusetts is the worst driving state he's ever been in.
16. Everyone in my office is awesome.
17. I have a secret crush on my boss.
18. I want a new job because this one doesn't pay enough (though it is easy) and the long commute sucks.
19. I don't want a new job because I don't want to tell my boss I'm quitting.
20. Harvard, MA is a very lovely town.
21. Sorrento's is a pizza place in Harvard that makes the best pizza I have ever had. My friends agree.
22. I hate rain because it makes my hair frizzy and wavy.
23. I love the sun.
24. I get A LOT of sunburns. I will likely have skin cancer not far in the future.
25. I drink much more often between May/June and September than I do any other time of the year.
26. I'm afraid of heights.
27. I have a weird, debilitating fear of large objects in water. It's hard to explain. Shows on the Discovery channel that go deep into the ocean to explore ship wrecks make me cower away from the television. Titanic was a horror movie for me, with its underwater iceberg shots and sinking and all. I'm even afraid of big rocks in the lake.
28. I really, really hate icebergs.
29. I have just learned that, according to this spellchecker, 'est' is a word.
30. I use dictionary.com all too often.
31. I use thesaurus.com when I'm writing and I can't think of the particular word I want to use there.
32. I believe women begin to display their crazy around 3 months into a relationship.
33. I really hate files at work that have an obscene amount of pages. Especially when they all say the exact same thing, or nothing important or relevant. I have to enter them anyway.
34. I know all the words to the Habanera in Carmen. I used to think it was spanish, but it is french.
35. I don't know what a latte is. Nor the difference between the kinds of drinks at Starbucks.
36. I've never been interested in cigarettes. Never even curious. I'm not sure why - I always want to try everything once.
37. No actor will ever be better than Simon Pegg in my eyes.
38. I like to pretend I don't ever want to get married or have a baby.
39. I just got a really strong craving for strawberry ice cream, and was surprised (and a little confused) to find I associate it with my mother.
40. If I say that I'm on a diet, it means I'm not eating any food for as long as I can manage - usually a few days.
41. I'm very bad at resisting temptations, whether it be food, sex, or procrastination.
42. I'm both lazy and very active. I wish there was a word for this.
43. I really do believe that, in general, I am awesome. Awesome friend, awesome girlfriend, awesome person.
44. I also have very, very serious self-worth issues, which seems illogical coming after number 43.
45. I develop crushes SUPER easily, but I only pursue those that I really am impressed by.
46. I'm incredibly impatient and hate waiting for anything (I want what I want and I want it right now). This results in lots of impulse buys and spontaneous ideas and plans.
47. I do not mind waiting for the boy I am pursuing now. He's amazing. I really want to know how his lips feel, though.
48. I'm 95% sure that he is interested me.
49. Regardless of number 48, I overanalyze everything, so I go back and forth when we are not hanging out. Sometimes, I'm sure he does (then the issue is why hasn't he made this crystal clear to me yet? Because I dated his friend?), and other times I'm sure he doesn't (he doesn't seem to try too hard to make time for me).
50. I drive myself insane in my own head, and I hate it.
51. I love all my friends so much. They are the funniest, nicest, smartest, and best people I could ever hope to know.
52. I want to move to the south for two reasons: Southerners are much friendlier and kinder than northerners, and rents are half the price.
53. I have a repeating trend in my overall contentedness. I latch onto a new interest or passion, which makes me happy, but over time, it descends until I am miserable. Then, I find something new, and I'm happy again. I need a job/hobby/trend that I can be passionate about to be really happy. I sometimes wonder if I have mild ADD.
54. I get scared thinking about what will happen if I run out of new things.
55. I like fast, upbeat music. A Wilhelm Scream is the absolute best for that.
56. Hardcore is my favorite, but I also listen to everything else, and sometimes that embarrasses me.
57. I get very annoyed at people who think hardcore is like death metal. Hardcore is short for hardcore punk, assholes. It's not growling or ridiculously technical guitar riffs or double bassing -- it's a faster, heavier form of punk.
58. This one's gross -- my current mouthwash, ACT mint fluoride rinse, leaves an aftertaste that reminds me of the way my mouth tastes after kissing someone who has been performing cunnilingus.
59. I am bisexual and think women are beautiful creatures, but I'm not a big fan of the vagina itself. I think they're weird-looking. The clitoris is awesome, though.
60. I really, really miss a girl I dated the summer before last. It's been 2 years, and I still miss her. She stopped answering my phone calls ages ago, and to this day won't answer my MySpace messages. I'm sorry, Armeny. You were great and I was stupid.
61. I like taking showers at night so I can straighten my hair the next day without having to blow dry. I hate blow drying.
62. I find marijuana to be a huge waste of money and time for me. It just makes me tired.
63. Once, I had some really good stuff and seriously thought I was going to float off into the sky. I asked my friend Mike if I could hold onto his arm.
64. I actually really liked my job at the Texas Roadhouse before I started serving. Serving sucks. But I was making $11 or $12 an hour as a To-Go Host. Super easy job, very fun atmosphere. I wish I hadn't quit. They would probably take me back, but I am much too prideful to try.
65. I hate being talked down to or patronized. Few things make me as angry as quickly.
66. My last boyfriend pretends to be unemotional and uncaring, still refuses to say he ever loved me (after 2 years), and claims that he hates everyone and wants to be alone -- but he's jealous that I am interested in someone else.
67. I do not feel bad because he was the one who chose not to resume the relationship after I came out of the three month depression following the loss of my brother.
68. My tongue piercing might have been the best decision I've made in the last several years. I love it so much.
69. Seeing this number still makes me laugh. I'm both mature and unbelievably immature at the same time.
70. Shows and songs about sex (like Californication and 'Closer' by NIN) turn me on. TLC's 'Red Light Special' makes me feel sexy.
71. Most kinds of touching with someone I'm interested in turns me on, including arms brushing, hugs, hand-holding, and the like.
72. I really, really like when men touch or kiss my neck, when they grab my ass with both hands, or when they press me up against something. I like aggressive men because I know that they want me, but I also like respectful, gentle men. I know, it's confusing for me, too.
73. I like animals more than I like people. I would most definitely save a dog over a human (anyone get the reference, there?).
74. I disagree with the concept of organized religion. People can believe whatever they want, but I don't want to hear about it. Too many people use it as an excuse to hate or do stupid things. I like that it gives hope and can bring people together, but it's definitely no good in the hands of the scared and stupid.
75. I try to give my significant others their privacy, and get really annoyed when they don't show me the same courtesy. DO NOT go through my phone or computer. I don't have anything to hide (usually), but it's incredibly rude and uncomfortable. And you don't trust me, which pisses me off.
76. I also believe I have been taken for granted in the majority of my relationships. I also find that once I leave, they tend to want me back, which is puzzling.
77. I have a lot of trouble not thinking about this boy I'm currently pursuing. He's just so awesome in so many ways. I swore I would never date another smoker, but it doesn't even bother me with him.
78. I don't do much work at work (clearly). Again, love my boss, but I just can't take it seriously.
79. I still live at home, and I'm not ashamed. When I have a good salary job, I'm all about my own place, but for now, rent-free is the way to go.
80. I'm an expert at waiting to go pee. I once held it for three full hours. I know it's not healthy, but it's so god damn annoying when I'm trying to drink a healthy amount of water.
81. I don't really think I'll ever write a novel.
82. I'm scared of thunderstorms, sharks, bugs, bees/hornets/wasps, car accidents, being in Worcester late at night, and an assorted jumble of things that I'm always surprised to find that I'm afraid of.
83. I'm also very jumpy. Loud noises and quick movements are frightening to me.
84. I think I like redheads. But not ~~what are they called~~ gingers.
85. My ex's brother is the sexiest redhead I've ever known. The new boy is about a half step behind him, and much sweeter.
86. I've always liked the idea of a steady, 9-5 job with a desk and a computer. I've always wanted to put pictures of my friends and family on my desk. I got a new lamp and a framed picture of my brother for this one.
87. I hate finding out people are ticklish, because then whenever I want to touch them, I tickle them. I know it's annoying, but I can't stop myself. This occurs mostly with non-touchy feely types - it's the easiest way to put my hands on them and get a response.
88. I think sitting on a couch and watching a fire in a fireplace while it's snowing outside would be the most romantic, relaxing date ever.
89. The hardcore show in March was one of the most exhilaratingly fun things I've ever done.
90. I really like snowboarding, but I hate the cold, so I don't go often. I always get really strong urges to go in the summer.
91. I like talking about myself. It's a terrible trait to have. I also talk to myself an awful lot.
92. My grandfather nicknamed me Squeaker when I was a baby. He claimed I made squeaking sounds in my sleep. It is my favorite nickname to date, though I can't remember anyone ever using it.
93. I think it's hilarious when people use the strike tag to cross words out. I also didn't know how to do it until I tried it in number 84.
94. I think suffocating/drowning or burning to death are the worst possible ways to die.
95. I think if I was pregnant, and ever had a miscarriage, I would probably not be able to handle it. Same with if I had a baby or child that died.
96. My friend Mike's lakehouse in summer is my number 1 favorite place of all time. Purgatory Chasm State Reservation in Northbridge, MA is my second favorite.
97. I love any food that involves bread, cheese, or a combination of the two. Also, pasta.
98. Chewing gum is much easier than I thought (I was afraid it would stick to the piercing or something). I'm a chronic gum-chewer because I'm paranoid about my breath.
99. This didn't actually get difficult until right now. I told you I like to talk about myself.
100. I'm very bad at concluding things.

Sorry that was so crazy-long.

This is ironic because it's in my blog.

2008-06-18T11:13:00.003-04:00

So I just discovered, while slacking at work, that Californication, my second favorite show ever, is definitely making a Season 2. Shut up, that's really exciting. They also have a pretend Wiki page, and on there, I found a page of top Hank Moody quotes. My favorite from there:

"[People] seem to be getting dumber and dumber. I mean we have all this amazing technology and yet computers have turned into basically four figure wank machines. The Internet was supposed to set us free, democratize us, but all it’s really given us is Howard Dean’s aborted candidacy and 24-hour a day access to kiddie porn, you know. And people don’t write anymore, they blog; instead of talking, they text; no punctuation, no grammar. LOL this and LMFAO that. You know it just seems to me that it’s just a bunch of stupid people psuedo-communicating with a bunch of other stupid people in a proto-language that resembles more what cavemen used to speak than the king’s English."

Hank Moody is the fucking man. I wish I was him, except me, and female. Actually, scratch that. I just wish I was him.

Side note about HIAs.

2008-06-16T22:40:00.005-04:00

Further studies have found that Heaven in Aviators may also cause prolonged feelings of "butterflies in the stomach," as seen in the midsection of the patient of the board game, Operation.

Research scientists (i.e. me) studying these amazing creatures in vitro have found this side effect to be a most pleasant one, making waking up in the morning easier and giving the infected a pleasant demeanor. It even has the ability to bend time and make work days fly by at twice the speed of a normal day.

... I've never had butterflies before.

2008-06-09T07:11:00.002-04:00

So I got my nose pierced. Then my tongue. It didn't really hurt.

Also, I didn't think I was sunburned from yesterday, but I woke up this morning and almost passed out standing at the sink. It was either from the pain, or dehydration. First, I thought I was going to puke, then I felt really dizzy, then my eyes rolled back into my head and I had to hold onto the counter. I stood there for a good five minutes before moving. It was scary.

June 21st!

2008-05-30T15:37:00.005-04:00

June 21st is a big day for Project Z - we're having a big party in a creepy (but fixed up) barn for a showing of our first three films!

(We will not be doing this, and no one knows all the steps to Thriller except me)

Our makeup lady decided we should serve Zombies -- the cocktails -- and I love her for that idea. We're going to project the movies onto one of the walls, and we (or at least, I) are telling everyone we invite to bring whoever they want. We want it to be big.

So if you're reading this, you probably already know me and how to get into contact with me. Let me know if you need directions or have questions or whatever. No lame excuses -- I'll break your legs if you don't come.

Sidenote (really kind of a footnote, as it is at the foot of the text): In my spare time, I have been crushing on a very, very cute, funny, creative boy. So, rather than being productive and writing scripts, I've begun this. I have ever-so-cleverly disguised his name :)

Heaven in Aviators - an essay question.

2008-05-28T13:52:00.005-04:00

Answered by Leia, who was cheating off my paper.

"HIA: Heaven In Aviators. Discuss.

After much research and scientific study, the brilliant minds of Wolf & Phoenix have joined together to share their findings with the world.

As Heaven In Aviators are well known, we do not need to discuss exactly what defines them. It should be known that though some believe that they can only be males, we have recently found proof that there is a female variety as well. Though for today’s discussion we shall stick to the topic we known far more about, the male sector of HIA.

Common Side Effects:

Goosebumps
It is very common for one to get goosebumps not only when they see but think about HIA.
Loss of Speech
Though some do not feel or have overcome this side effect, it is still a very common occurance so it must be listed.
Loss of Clothing
One of the most common side effects when one encounters a HIA.
Often occurring to the subject but also includes the HIA on occasion.
Random Fantasies
These fantasies can occur at work or at any other time of the day.
Do not be alarmed. They are normal and not dangerous.
Though if they continue and begin to distract you from every day life it is suggested that one fulfills their fantasies with the HIA of their choice.

Sadly HIAs are not sold in stores and must be found. It often takes years to find a true HIA but once found, it is suggested that one immediately grab them fast as they are a rare and valuable commodity."

Accomplishment!

2008-05-25T02:16:00.003-04:00

Project Z just finished our first movie! We haven't done any editing or anything yet, but it looks fantastic as is.

The premier is on the 30th (Friday), assumed to be at Jarret's apartment. Everyone should come and see how awesome we are. More details and links to come.

It's been a while, shoot me. No, really.

2008-05-23T11:03:00.003-04:00

So for those of you that still occasionally check out my poor, neglected blog, I figured I'd give you a bit of an update to what I've been doing lately.

For those of you that talk to me often, I've been clamoring to get the hell out of this state, so when Jarret got accepted to NIU, I figured I'd move on out to Illinois, too - at least I'd know someone, right? So I threw my resume up on Craigslist, applied to several jobs, and looked up countless apartments. So far, I've been offered two separate jobs, one of which sounds like a really good fit for me, at least for a while.

And then, yesterday, I changed my mind. No, I'm not moving. Yet. Instead, I'm going to Quinsig for an associate's in Nursing Education, so I can be an RN. Yeah, from psychologist to cop to administrative assistant for the rest of my life to RN. After that, I'm hoping to get a position down in Nashville (the rents down there are like $400 a month, no lie). My grammy lives down there, too :)

On top of the RN thing, I still have that pesky life-long dream of being a writer. So today, I submitted this little number to Gore and Shock Provoked, or G.A.S.P., magazine. Here's crossing my fingers.

Okay, one last thing: Jill, my favorite person in the world, decided to make her own blog. It's called From the Land of Jill, and is on my Tasty Links bar over there. Go visit, say hi. She's great!

Alright, that's all. See you in another month or two.

Dear idiots...

2008-03-30T10:18:00.005-04:00

Okay, I'd like to start with some personal outrage: How do you not believe in evolution?! You can't just decide not to see all the evidence in the world all around you! Selective sight doesn't give you the right to discredit the theory of evolution, and hope anyone who thinks so will accidentally put both hands into a meat grinder.

So, I just read about this movie called Expelled. It was originally supposed to be called "Crossroads," because it was intended to explore the "intersection of science and religion," and even had the consent of Dr. Dawkins. Apparently, though, the title and production company changed, and the people that were interviewed were not informed of this.

To me, this is kind of like when I walk outside of a bar or restaurant and get a faceful of smoke, I think, People still smoke? This time, it's just getting an eyeful of things like this:

And I have to wonder, People are still arguing about this stuff?

For God's sake (pun quite intended), take a damn biology class.

I think the worst thing is the movie. I haven't seen it, but I've watch both the trailer and extended trailer. This movie isn't about the difference between Intelligent Design and Darwinism; no, it's about how society attacks and discriminates against anyone that believes in Intelligent Design. Look:

Ben Stein warns you in the extended trailer that by watching this movie you may lose your friends or your job. I wouldn't be against it if it was an actual intelligent film that explores two different views, but it isn't. It's fine that the ID people want to have their say, but it isn't fine that they make everyone else out to be bad guys. "Oh, you believe in evolution? You'll probably discriminate against me because I don't."

Maybe it's true. Okay, fine. Then why aren't you advertising a movie that talks about the hardships of ID believers in society? Why are you claiming to discuss the similarities and differences of two different theories?

I <3 Hardcore

2008-03-01T13:10:00.008-05:00

So last night, a friend reminded me that I had made plans to go to a hardcore show - Firestorm Fest 2008 at the Palladium in Worcester - with him. When he told me, I was still at work, trying to pretend I didn't have a throbbing headache and occasional waves of dizziness. I ended up leaving early, and all I wanted to do was go home and go to sleep. Then again, this was a friend I had neglected to see for quite a while for no good reason, and besides, I wanted to see Shai Hulud live!

So he picked me up, paid for parking, and found a place far from the mosh pit so I wouldn't get hurt. We showed up about 2 hours after the show had actually started (we missed On Broken Wings, Randomshots, Rick Whispers, Since the Flood, and Unholy), and walked in right as one band finished. We stood through Down to Nothing and Recon, which weren't bad but I had never heard of them, and instead of watching the performances, I was entranced by the pit. The hardcore dancers weren't being assholes and beating the shit out of each other as I had expected -- they were doing it right and just dancing. As the bands went through their sets, I got antsy. I wanted to be down there.

So I expressed my feelings, but we hesitated, because we had a good vantage point where we were. When Shai Hulud came on, though, things changed. We hurried around the crowd to the edge of the people ringing the pit, then Jarret said he'd be right back and disappeared. I stood, surrounded by bodies and staring at the pit, until I felt someone tap my arm. Looking forward, I was greeted with a vision of my guide, holding out a hand to me from a spot close to the stage, with a bright white stage light shining in my face over his head. It was almost a holy moment. The next thing I knew, we were pressed up against the barricade, center stage, no more than five feet from where Matt Mazzali was standing, thrusting his mic into the crowd. Someone caught a picture -- it's like a Where's Waldo, can you find us?:

After Shai Hulud came Sworn Enemy, and the crowd got a bit rowdier. I loved it. We were crushed up against the barricade and had to always look around to make sure no fists or feet were coming our way, but I was right in front of an incredibly jacked, 6'5" bouncer, so I was all set (then again, later in the show, that was the same huge guy who got knocked forward and nearly cracked my skull with his forehead. Unfortunately, no battle scar remains.) If anyone crawled over the crowd, and I didn't push them over fast enough, the bouncer reached over my head and did it before they could get close enough to cause injury. I decided then that I like being the only chick near the pit at a hardcore show. Anyway, the band was fun, and though Matt had only stood on the barricade to our right, Sal Lococo was more than happy to move to other areas, including right in front of us, where I got a faceful of his crotch as people piled up, trying to get their chance to scream lyrics into the microphone.

Their set was good, but it was nothing compared to the show Terror put on. I swear that Scott Vogel was trying to kill me, because he kept telling everyone to move up and climb over everybody. I bet the bouncers didn't like it when he urged the crowd to climb right over the baricades; a few guys tried, and got tossed back like rag dolls. I also got a faceful of his crotch (I look thrilled right before my sight was filled with his camo shorts) and ended up at the bottom at yet another pile-up.

Finally, the reason everyone was there (well, I was really there to see Shai Hulud) showed up, after taking a freakin' half hour to set up. Earth Crisis was, by far, the best recieved band, which is cool, considering their stance on most issues. I find that I don't really like their music -- though live they're amazing -- but I do support their messages. I was pretty excited that I got multiple facefuls of Karl Beuchner's crotch, but there was a moment that scared the hell out of me -- one of the stage divers accidentally caught Karl and knocked him off the barricade. He was fine, but the bouncers kept their hands on his back to hold him up after that. Still, they were awesome, and I loved every song live even if I'm not a fan of the recorded versions.

I'm told that I have some bragging rights over the fact that, at the end of ECs last and biggest song, Firestorm, we were the base of the massive pile-up. You're jealous, I know you are.

And you should be.

So, I'm a writer.

2008-02-13T21:23:00.000-05:00

Well, actually I just like to write. I can't really claim the title of 'Writer' because A. I don't live in L.A. or Hollywood, and B. I can never seem to finish anything. Ever.

Sure, sure, every once in a while, I'll manage to force myself to the end of a short story. Once, I even won third place in a short story contest for this one. Sometimes I churn out complete thoughts, usually inspired by songs (for example, Sanctuary by Utada Hikaru produced this, and Lacuna Coil's Comalies brought about one of my longer stories).

Still most of my ideas dissolve before I finish the first page. I could absolutely force myself to continue writing, but I've always thought (and was thrilled to find Stephen King felt the same) that forced writing is the kind that produces wooden characters and dull plots. If it isn't itching at the tips of your fingers, there's little reason to put it on paper.

It's pretty frustrating. I love writing, creating characters and worlds, sometimes making them feel as real as the people I see everyday. And why couldn't they? You don't know anything about the people you pass in traffic, or that guy sitting in front of you on the bus. How do you know it's not his or her or their story you're telling?

You don't. And maybe that's the draw of writing. Still, a writer doesn't really have control over their characters. I know most of you probably don't believe that, but it's true. The characters, in a way, are unique entities -- everything that happens in a story happens because of them, not the writer. The writer is just a channel.

Ask Mr. King.

Either way, I don't know why I can't follow through with anything (and I wish it was only my writing aspect of my life that that applied to), but it drives me nuts and sometimes I want to tear my hair out and put mustard in my eyes. Yes, mustard.

My latest half-work is this little bugger. I love this one. No exaggeration. I think, finished, it'll be an amazing novel. I'm generally modest, but I have never doubted my writing ability, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that. If I could actually sit down with no distractions and just write, I think I could have a cushy life in store. Unfortunately, though, I can't, and that, so I'm stuck working full time in an office that's forty minutes away. Do you know how much I spend on gas each week?

I guess, in conclusion, I really recommend that you do what you really want to, and do it well, or else you won't do it at all ("What is she even saying?").

In my fear and flaws

I let myself down again

All because

I run

'Til the silence splits me open

I run

'Til it puts me underground

'Til I have no breath

And no roads left but one

I miss my brother.

2008-02-12T21:01:00.000-05:00

Is that a Corona, Matthew?

Those of you who have been around for a while will remember my post a few months ago. Well, for some reason, tonight has been particularly hard. It's just so unfair. At his wake, they said something about him being in heaven now, that God had decided to take him back. You would think this all-mighty "God" figure would've had the foresight to realize that I need Matt much more than He does. What does a deity need with a 24-year-old kid? Maybe He knows my brother was the coolest, funniest, and most intelligent 24-year-old there ever was. Well, maybe He should stop being so damned selfish and give him back -- there are an awful lot of people down here that miss him and need him and would give anything just to see him one more time. Maybe people should just stop telling me that things happen for a reason -- what reason could this have happened for? Nothing good has come out of this; I dare anyone to tell me otherwise.

Yeah, I know what's coming. "Oh, you'll get through it, and you'll be stronger, and you'll appreciate life more-" and blah blah blah bullshit. That's hardly worth anything, even if it's true. I wouldn't care if I was the weakest, most unappreciative little bitch in existance -- at least I would have my big brother to take care of me when I lost it, and love me even when I was being stupid. It was unconditional, you know. Sure, sure, lots of people say they love unconditionally, but that's rarely true outside of parent-child relationships (and even then, there are cases where you wonder; would someone be neglectful of or abusive to a child they loved?). But my brother always loved me, even on the rare occasions when I got on his nerves, even that one time in the woods behind the house when he punched me in the arm (I think he was about ten at the time).

It's really frustrating to know that there's nothing I can do. "But you could volunteer or donate money in his name, or-" Blow me. That's not what I mean. I don't want to just remember him ("Remember him for the good things, not-" Jesus Christ, fuck off), I want him back. Memory isn't good enough. It's my fault that we didn't see each other more over the last few months he was alive -- I never put it out there, I just let him come visit me at work, or suggest that we do this or that. Okay, so I took him out once. Okay, so I invited him out once or twice, but he had to work or was already otherwise engaged. We didn't know that we didn't have all the time in the world, did we? Does anyone?

I guess, if anything, I can take solace in the fact that I seem to have progressed through another stage of the Kubler-Ross model, i.e. the five stages of grief. I think I got them mixed up, though. They're supposed to go like this:

1. Denial: The initial stage: "It can't be happening."
2. Anger: "Why me? It's not fair."
3. Bargaining: "Just let me live to see my children graduate."
4. Depression: "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"
5. Acceptance: "It's going to be OK."

Personally, instead of going 1-2-3-4-5, I think I started in 4, moved to 1, and have now evolved into 2, with one foot still over the line in 1. I'm definitely angry, but I was whispering to myself about how he can't be dead just a little while ago.

I almost want to say sorry for the emotional post... but then I remember that it's MY blog, and anyone who doesn't like it can eat me.

Where the shit did everyone go?

2008-02-11T20:17:00.000-05:00

When Bob's site used to be on Blogger, like mine, he had a following (and I piggybacked off of it). Now he's got a new site that looks a hundred times better and is 200% more awesome, and everyone suddenly disappears? What the shit!

I know some of you are still looking at the site -- christ, he's getting 200+ hits a day. So fucking comment! Look, look:

He's got all kinds of stories, like
Grammy Pictures (you jerks all love the Grammys, don't lie)
Kim Kardashian and her sextape (I know you all love porn, too)
Gemma Atkinson's tits (she's not that pretty, but her body's fantastic)

Plus an assload of other stuff -- you've seen it, you ought to know.

All I'm saying is trolls/lurkers are homos. So stop being a homo and start commenting. 'Cause seriously, no one likes to be a homo.

Edit: JP, nice work on the commenting. You are not a homo.

Weekday mornings (suck)

2008-02-07T18:46:00.001-05:00

All I have to say is getting up early is the worst thing ever. Way worse than the clothes.

Blog Review: What Would Tyler Durden Do?

2008-02-04T14:35:00.000-05:00

If you don't know who Tyler Durden is, then you're a flamer and you need to see Fight Club, because it's fucking Brad Pitt -- what else do you want? Then again, I don't really know what he has to do with this blog, other than being in the title.

What Would Tyler Durden Do? is, to quote the writer, "a blog focused on bringing you the latest gossip and news about rich and famous celebrities. And then making fun of them. Why? Because fuck them, that's why." Very similar to Life Misled in some ways, but a bit on the gentler side -- in other words, you're less likely to cringe after reading an article. Still funny, though.

WWTDD is written by Brendon Donnelly, a guy who certainly looks like he doesn't take any shit. Apparently, he also used to write for IDon'tLikeYouInThatWay and was head writer for The Superficial.

Anyway, I've been meaning to review this site for a long time, because I've been following it for months. It's funny and well-written, and what could be bad about anyone who writes something like, "For the first time, I'm on Britney’s side. That tubby bitch can acquire food, I assure you. She's like a polar bear. You could put a cake under 2 feet of ice and Britney would stick her nose to the ground and find it. When asked for a comment, Britney said, "food goes in my tummy". I'm not technically a doctor, bet she's right on that one."

In conclusion: read it... or Brendon will kick your ass.

Conflict of Interest

2008-02-03T19:24:00.000-05:00

Please do not ask what's going on in this picture -- I don't think I'd want to explain even if I could.

Okay, so by now, I think it's pretty obvious that I'm a bit of a tomboy. I'll certainly admit it without hesitation.

To the left is a picture of me from this past December, at a party Bob threw for his brother. I am holding the Christmas pig, whose wing was later broken. It was a tragedy.

Anyway, the point of my rambling is to point out how I am dressed here. Jeans and a long-sleeved tee shirt (which was not actually mine, hence why it was a little over-sized for me). You can be sure I was wearing sneakers underneath it all, too.

Skipping along...

Here's a picture of me from two summers ago. Note the Volcom hat, ONeil boardshorts, and Vans sneakers (please do not note the black bra -- I don't know what possessed me to do that). This is the style I ultimately prefer. I know it's not the most figure-flattering, attractive outfit, but I'm not aiming to look good; I just want to wear what I like.

So for my new job, I'm supposed to wear "smart casual." I cringed when I heard the phrase. I like doing cross-sections and comparisons, so here we go:

What I like.........................What they want

One more, just for fun, and because this amuses me, if no one else:

Good.........................................................Bad

You see my conundrum, don't you? Dressing nice is lame. Why go out and spend hundreds of dollars on nice clothes, when you can get something comfortable for like $50? I guess I'll just never understand fashion. Or people.

Oh well. You do what you gotta.

Skateboarding: Rune Glifberg

2008-02-03T17:40:00.000-05:00

Ol' Runie Rune is my very favorite pro-skater, and has been for ages, though I will admit I started with Tony Hawk (who is still amazing on a board, but a little too media-centric for me now).

Either way, Rune isn't as well known, but I've seen Tony Hawk fuck up, which is not something I can say of Glifberg. Here's a video of him in Paris way back in 2000:

MotoX: Pastrana and Deegan

2008-02-03T16:58:00.000-05:00

So, I was thinking, since I've shared my musical tastes, why not continue the trend and throw up some things pertaining to my other interests?

This post is all about dirt bikes and freestyle motocross. I'm sure everyone's heard of Travis Pastrana -- he was a big name a few years back, and still remains totally awesome -- and Brian Deegan is also a big name in the sport. Anyway, somebody put together a video displaying both of their most impressive tricks (and a few of their hardest falls).

In relation to that (sort of), here's Deegan backflipping over a pool of sharks. I recommend skipping to the last ten seconds of the video, when he actually does the trick; the rest is just MTV bullshit.

A Wilhelm Scream and Comeback Kid

2008-02-03T05:14:00.002-05:00

... Are my two favorite bands. If the two went on tour together, I would sell my blood to get tickets, and if that wasn't enough... well, I have other things I can sell.

So, as I was saying, it appears I'm on a bit of a music kick this evening, so after the last post, I decided to search for some videos of AWS and CK to post so you can all see how awesome they both are.

I'll do A Wilhelm Scream first, since they're a bit gentler and more melodic. Plus, they're from New Bedford, MA -- that's only about an hour and a half from here! I couldn't pick just one video, so you get two, you lucky dogs:

A Wilhelm Scream: The Kids Can Eat a Bag of Dick
Yes, that's the actual title of the song. This one was (according the the YouTube description) put together by one of the people who toured with them last February. I bet they put on a kickass show.

A Wilhelm Scream: Famous Friends and Fashion Drunks
This one, from what I can tell, at least, is the official video for the song. It's not live clips like the last one, but it's really the song itself that matters.

Hope you liked them; they're my favorite. On to my other favorite, Comeback Kid. They're a bit heavier and a little screamier (I don't care if that's not a word, Bob), but just as rawkin' as AWS. Plus, they're Canadian, i.e. instant awesome.

These are the two bands I listen to when I go running.

Comeback Kid: Wake the Dead
The first CK song I ever heard -- and I was hooked immediately. Maybe you will be too :)

Comeback Kid: Die Tonight
Quite possibly my very favorite CK song, as hard as it is to choose. I fuckin' love this one, though. I want to run over a mass of people like that! Note the synchronized moshing at 2:22.

I do indeed apologize for the ridiculous amount of media in this post, but really, why the hell not? Makes it easy for you to see it, and my only goal is to expose you to two badass bands you may not have heard of. Win-win thing, really.

I'm kind of on a roll, here.

Finally (I swear this is the last), since I mentioned moshing earlier, I thought I would end with the video made for CK's song Loreli. Think moshing is ridiculous? Try taking it out of context:

P.S. If you learned nothing from the Sick of It All video, that is not the correct way to mosh. Then again, if you're in the middle of the pit, you might as well flail like an idiot -- standing still won't do you much good.

Sick of It All explains NYHC

2008-02-03T04:19:00.000-05:00

Per Jarret's request (and because I, once again, can't sleep), I have decided to post the video he introduced me to. I'm a fan of Sick of It All, and of what I know of the New York Hardcore scene, as well. Anyway, the video goes over a few of the more popular types of moshing:

I'm a fan of the Pizzamaker, myself.

Pick your fave:

I love Comeback Kid, but they're a little weird

2008-02-02T20:19:00.000-05:00

On Comeback Kid's official website, they posted journal entries while on tour in Europe. I couldn't resist copy+pasting this little blurb.

On November 18th, 2007, Casey wrote:

"Paris 12.11 - Possibly the most fun show of this tour. The backstage room had a large TV that was showing the stage in the next room so we could watch the bands as we all sat around being dorks. While This Is Hell was playing, Johnny made a dramatic gesture while shredding a bass line just as the intense strobe lights came on. It gave the illusion that he had turned on the strobe lights with a magical power, thus making him a Wizard! As the night went on the "Wizard" joke was gaining momentum and by the time Parkway Drive went on, more attention was given to casting spells on the crowd than playing their instruments. When it was our turn to play we had to do our best to top them of course so any chance we had, we pointed wicked fingers at the kids hoping the bands in the other room were watching. I'm sure the crowd thought we were out of our minds. Also to up the ante Kevin gave a heart felt speech to the effect of "Ya know, you guys got a great scene here. Keep supporting the venues and local bands. And always remember, you are all wizards and you all have the power!" Andrew added "I AM a wizard!" and we went into another song. Maybe it wasn't that funny but we all had a good time that night. Kids were stoked went crazy so what else could you ask for?"

So they're a little weird. I would be too if I was young and got to tour the world while kicking ass in the best Canadian hardcore band of all time, too.

Life Misled

2008-02-01T16:07:00.000-05:00

For those of you that aren't yet aware, Bob has finally got himself a new site. I updated the RSS feed on my sidebar, so it should updated accordingly. Anyway, the new site is a thousand times better than the blogger one -- separate pages, links, contact forms, no rules? Go check it out.

In other, lesser news: I was just hired for a full-time position with Ideal Wave. I start Wednesday, and I'm very excited.

Weird Video: Wacky Soccer

2008-01-29T15:11:00.000-05:00

Most people who know me are aware that I used to play soccer; I stopped when I tore a tendon in my knee. I was reminded of this during my interview today (Matt Corbett is a delightful man), and realized, not for the first time, how much I miss playing. So here's a video in tribute to a sport no one really likes anyway.

Also, I'm aware that I haven't been posting anything of substance for a while, and I apologize. That should change soon. Or not. We'll see.

Weird Video: Some stupid Japanese soap opera

2008-01-29T08:51:00.000-05:00

I wouldn't recommend watching this whole thing, because it's ten minutes long and stupid, but at least watch the intro. You may also notice that it's the sixth in the series -- some asshole made seven of these.

Weird Video: 300 (PG version)

2008-01-27T20:37:00.000-05:00

This is the stupidest, yet funniest thing, I've seen today.

What the Shit?!

2008-01-27T18:49:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, for some reason, a human being is subjected to terrible things that are good cause for a "What the shit?!" exclamation. For example, there exists such thing as the hideous coconut crab. According to that Wiki page, it's the largest land-living (don't crabs normally live in the ocean?) arthropod, and it's related to the hermit crab.

Like Bob, I'm terrified of the ocean and the things in it. That said, I present you with this picture, and my feelings on it:

What the shit?!

The Penny Arcade Remix Project

2008-01-27T15:59:00.000-05:00

Now, this is a little old, but I rather feel that it didn't get enoufg attention. See, though the Yukihime.com blog has been shut down, they left the archives up, and that is where you can find the Penny Arcade Remix Project. In short, a guy in Japan gave his high school students blank PA comics and told them to add their own english dialogue. He even took the time to mark the ones he found funniest.

Either way, I stole three of my favorites, and threw them up here, just for you. They are scanned photocopies, so they're a little hard to read. My apologies.

Tycho is confused

The Son of God is a writing utensil

Gabe feels under appreciated

Weird Video: Bambi just wants a strawberry

2008-01-27T15:53:00.000-05:00

I couldn't resist putting this up -- I can't stop giggling whenever I watch it. A friendly warning: it's obnoxiously loud (and maybe just regular obnoxious, too).

It's also a little sad to think that some guy was doing that to his kid brother. But what are siblings for, right?

Saddest Picture Ever

2008-01-26T17:01:00.000-05:00

Since no one can see it on Bob's page, here it is:

I love it and hate it at the same time.

Video: Crysis

2008-01-26T02:24:00.000-05:00

PLAY THIS GAME. Period.

Web Comic: Wondermark

2008-01-22T23:44:00.000-05:00

Now, I know this might be a little hard to take in, but I am a bit of a... well, a geek. I know, I know -- it seems totally counter intuitive that a female should hold such a title (along with "new age punk," apparently), but it's true. I love computers and video games and I've recently been getting back into my old favorite -- web comics.

This evening, I found myself reading one of the very best comics of all time: Wondermark. It's created by one very strange David Malki ! (yes, the exclamation is necessary), and is made with endless amounts of antique-looking artwork. I won't lie, while all the strips are hilarious, some (most) of them can probably be classified as fucking weird. To demonstrate, I have uploaded my all-time favorite comic, which is also probably the very weirdest:

Now, just so the oddness of this one doesn't turn you off, I've also included one that's a bit easier to follow:

Love it. You know you already do. Go on, go read the archives. I promise I won't tell anyone.

Video: Tom & Jerry

2008-01-22T23:05:00.000-05:00

I've been watching a lot of Youtube videos this evening, and a friend reminded me of my favorite Tom & Jerry scene of all time. I loved that show growing up.

Does anyone else remember it?

Weird Video: KP vs Batguy

2008-01-19T16:12:00.000-05:00

I just wanted to share my favorite video of all time, made by Attack of the Show when it was worth watching. It stars my only celebrity crush, Kevin Pereira, and a mysterious, masked stranger who's watched far too many of the Batman movies far too many times. It's hilarious.

Have you ever...

2008-01-17T18:19:00.000-05:00

Have you ever stood back and taken a good look at yourself, at who you are, at what you've done and your motives... and been absolutely disgusted to find that you aren't who you believed yourself to be?

In that moment, shock does what it does best and time seems to stop. In this impossible, physics-breaking eternity, you take a good, hard look at yourself. Did you really just do that/say that/make that decision? Why, why would you do that? That's not at all like you.

Well, let me tell you what happens next. You get angry. Not the typical someone-else-just-fucked-my-significant-other angry, but a burning, deeper anger. A helpless anger. There's no target to lash out at, no one to aim your rage at. There's only you. If you're anything like me, that's probably the scariest place to be, alone with yourself. Most people are far from kind with their own person, and when there's no one else to blame, there's only you, naked and unable to hide.

This is not a pleasant view. I suppose it differs for everyone. For me, I just saw a scared little girl. She was cowering, though there seemed to be no overt threat. Just afraid of everything, I guess. Afraid, perhaps, because she was weak.

In high school, my friends always used to insist that I needed to learn to stand up for myself, to learn to say no. “Jamie,” they would say, “if you don’t want to do it, just say so. That’s all you have to do.” I never really did learn to do that; I still feel the need to make up excuses whenever I’m not inclined to say yes.

I wonder if that works the other way, too. I rather think it does. If I want something, all I have to do is try. Well, why wouldn’t anyone be capable of that? I always thought I was. It seems, though, watching that little girl tremble and hide her face, that I am not.

Ever watched something important slip through your hands like water? Most likely. Now, have you ever watched something slip through your hands like water… after you purposely spread your fingers? All you need to do to keep the water there is form a cup. So why didn’t you? Why didn’t I?

The question, “Why?” is probably the hardest to answer. You can try to reason with it all you want, but it doesn’t go away. Not until you figure out the real answer. The real answer is generally the most painful one, the one you try to push away, to keep buried. You don’t want to see that answer. It has the potential to reveal something about yourself that you don’t want to be shown. You’re happy not knowing the truth – ignorance is indeed bliss.

Even now, I don’t really know why. Why I’d rather just give up than pick up a god damned phone. Why I can’t just put more effort into something I really wanted. Why I ultimately decided to let go, rather than fight for something I know – have always known – would be great.

I suspect that that little girl is flawed. She’s flawed, and maybe she puts her face in her hands because she knows I can read it in her eyes. She doesn’t want me to see it because I don’t want her to show me. No one would. Coming to terms with something that will surely cause you to lose faith in yourself is hard. It’s tough to realize that you’re disappointed with yourself, as a person.

Is there anything more discouraging?

Weird Video: Tiny Sharks Suck at Hunting

2008-01-14T17:07:00.000-05:00

Some of you may have seen this video if you checked out the related videos after Bob's Crayfish Proof video. For those of you that didn't, I thought it was pretty awesome, so I decided to share it with you.

Blog Review: I Can Has Cheezburger

2008-01-13T23:44:00.000-05:00

Anyone that has never been to I Can Has Cheezburger should be shot. Now, I know I already said Gaijin Smash is my favorite blog to read, but I check ICHC generally every day. No joke.

For those of you unfamiliar with the concept of LoLCats, they are pictures of cats in odd poses or places to which grammatically incorrect captions are added for amusement. There are other types of LoLthings, including the LoLrus and LoLBots (particularly nerdy). Sure, plenty of people don't find these poorly-spoken felines as hilarious as I do, but those people were likely raised in strict, hypocritically religious families with fathers that beat the childhood out of them at a young age, so they unfortunately grew up without any sense of humor and a stupidly opinionated disposition.

Another neat feature on ICHC is their LoLCat Builder, where you can make your very own LoLCats! I lack the wit this very delicate procedure requires, but you can always try -- the only downside is that mods screen all sumbissions, and they may take some time to get to yours. It ensures that there aren't any "Cockz lulz" submissions, though.

That said, I leave you with a few of my favorites:

Random post: Song lyrics

2008-01-08T01:27:00.000-05:00

I've been listening to two songs on repeat in the last few weeks; the first, of course, is New Found Glory's "Sonny" (lyrics posted previously). The second is one I had forgotten about for some time. I listened to it often two summers ago, when I came home to an empty house the day my grandfather was rushed to the ER. Luckily, that time, his open-heart surgery went well, and he's been home and fairly healthy since.

Either way, I suppose this song touches on some of the things I've felt since I heard about my brother. This is "Should've Been There" by Earshot.

I hope I'm not too late

I hope that you're ok

I left in a hurry

As soon as they told me

So I prayed for you

Hang on till tomorrow

Just don't leave me here today

I'm coming home to you

(Should've been there)

Should've been there, I wanted to

(Should've been there)

Should've been there right next to you

(Should've been there)

Should've been there to comfort you

(Should've been there)

Should've been there to sing to you

(Should've been there)

Should've been there to hold your hand

(Should've been there)

Should've been there to be with you

After all that we've been through

Yes, it's hard to say goodbye

And what I wish right now is to somehow turn back time

With all of the love

And respect

That I hold right here for you

Hang on 'til tomorrow

Just don't leave me here today

I'm coming home to you

The funny thing is, Matt would've kicked my ass for being so whiny over losing him, always the protective big brother. I just still can't believe he's gone -- I feel like I should be able to call him and hear him pick up on the other end.

The sun will set for you.

Blog Review: Outpost Nine

2008-01-07T02:04:00.000-05:00

Since I did Gaijin Smash, I feel obligated to do the original site that the Japanese Schoolteacher series was posted on. Outpost Nine is another editorial blog, also maintained by Azrael, that isn't Japan-focused. Since the guy lives in the country, there's naturally some crossover, but there are many neutral yet hilarious posts, such as Mating Rituals (clubbing) and Anti-Valentines Day.

If you'd like to read honest cynicisms from a talented and entertaining writer, check out the site. He just recently started updating it again, after taking a break to move the Schoolteacher editorials to Gaijin Smash, and he's just as good as he was before.

Especially amusing are his "A Picture's Worth" set; where else can you find things like the Poopy Picker?

Yes, that's a real picture.

Blog Review: Gaijin Smash

2008-01-04T12:24:00.000-05:00

My original intent for this blog was to be a review site for other blogs. Obviously, I have strayed a bit from this idea, but I don't think it's a bad thing -- my previous posts have been well-received thus far, so I'll probably stick with the amalgamation of the things I have so far, plus whatever else I feel like throwing in.

Anyway, here's the first blog review:

Gaijin Smash is my most favorite blog to read when I'm bored. It's a non-fiction blog, which may sound dull, but I'll honestly say that is the last possible thing it could be.

It's about an American man living in Japan. Doesn't sound exciting? Well, then you probably don't know how absolutely fucked up Japanese culture is. Now, before you start calling me racist and culturist and whatnot, try reading some of this guy's posts. You wouldn't believe some of the things he's seen/heard/experienced/been horrified by.

Reading Azrael's (the author) posts will educate you in the following subjects: the game of Kancho, Dodgedick and Dodgedick Sense, the meaning of Gaijin/Gaijin Powers/Gaijin Perimeter/ect, Massive Melon Tits, porn on trains, and much, much more.

No, I'm not kidding.

Either way, Azrael is very articulate and very, very funny. I have found myself in silent computer labs on campus, reading the blog for lack of anything more productive to do (usually when skipping a class), and I'll suddenly surprise myself and annoy everyone else with a loud laugh. The angry looks are worth it, though, and I just keep reading, so the cycle continues.

In conclusion: It's funny, and addictive. Read it.

Happy birthday to me

2007-12-28T15:34:00.000-05:00

I just want to thank everyone that left a comment on my post for my brother. It means a lot to me that you all took the time to share with me, even if we don't know each other.

I just don't want him to be just another name on the obituary page.

Subjective rant on the subject of: death

2007-12-25T14:50:00.002-05:00

Death -- what is there to say? It sucks. It always sucks. It's inevitable, unavoidable, and unwaverable. Death cannot be argued with. It's non-judgemental -- it takes the deserving, the undeserving, and the just plain unlucky. Death is a natural part of life, and we all have or will experience it. We're all going to die, in time.

Some deaths, though, are much harder to handle than others. Take this past weekend, for example. Friday night, Bob from Life Misled had a big party for his brother's return from the Navy. Lots of people showed up; there was beirut, plenty of alcohol, and even snowball throwing. A really fun time, all in all, and I didn't even get to sleep until about 7 am (getting up at 10 and working a double shift was awful, but totally worth it).

Anywho, the following night after work, I returned to my boyfriend's empty apartment -- he left that morning to visit family in Chicago and New York for the holidays -- turned on the television for background noise and plopped down at the computer. One of my closer friends IMed me, telling me to call her because she had something important to tell me and didn't want to do it over the internet. I moaned and groaned a bit, because I'm not big on phone chatting, but eventually I agreed.

I thought it was strange when she asked me if the guy "Munky" on my top ten MySpace friends was my brother. "Yep, that's him," I said with a grin, thinking she ran into him somewhere and had a story about it. I was holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder and trying to dump some water out of my Easy Mac without spilling any of the pasta when I heard her say, "Sweetie... your brother... he died last night." Thinking back now, I actually laughed a little, one of those exhalation laughs that come right before you say, "... What?"

She explained what had happened and expressed her repeated condolances, along with many offers to come comfort me and suggestions to go home so I didn't spend the night alone. I promised I would and quickly had to get off the phone, because I was starting to choke up and hate anyone witnessing my tears. Afterwards, I returned to the computer to check my brother's myspace, and was shocked to see R.I.P.s and "we'll miss you"s littering his comments.

All I could think was that it was a joke, just an awful, cruel joke, and I'd have to kick his butt later for being such a dick. "That's not even funny, Matt!" I'd yell, and give him a girly slap or two in the arm, then I'd lose my facade and start laughing, too.

That's the way my big brother was, always happy and always good at making other people happy. It could be the worst day of your life, and my brother could make you feel human again without even trying. He was so laid-back, so easy to get along with, and -- even though I don't frequently use the word -- just so damn chill. I think that's the best way to describe him. My brother was really fucking chill.

The very worst thing about it was that he didn't do anything reckless or make any stupid decision -- it was his asthma. He's always had really bad asthma, but I guess lately it had been particularly awful. He even left me a myspace comment in August that went as follows: "yea actually things have been kinda bad lately...i had the worst asthma attack i've ever had in my life, i even had to call 911. i lost ALL lung function in my sleep and woke up to not being able to breathe at all. the doctor told me if the paramedics had taken 5 minutes longer i would've passed out from lack of oxygen and i would've died :( it totally changed my life, no more smokin, no more construction work, ima go back to school for computers and get an office job...what a close call..."

I guess this time, it was so bad that even his prednisone didn't help. Jenelle, his best friend whom he loved more than anyone, was with him, and she was the one who called 911. It was so bad that she called twice, the second time to tell them to hurry, because she was sure he was dying. She tried his nebulizer, but he couldn't hold it to his face, and shortly after, he collapsed on the floor. Jenelle said his face was purple, his fingers were blue, and he was foaming from the mouth. She kept telling him she loved him and he would be okay; he kept telling her that he was scared and he wasn't ready to die.

According to the girl, he was dead before they loaded him into the ambulance.

Now, I've dealt with family deaths before. My uncle Jerry, my aunt Shirley, and my mom. My mother's death was, obviously, very awful and entirely life changing, but I honestly think it was easier to handle because we had all been expecting it. She'd been diagnosed with sclerosis of the liver several years prior and, completely ignoring the doctor's warnings, she continued drinking her 101 proof peppermint schnapps. So while it was a horrible tragedy, it was easy to just be angry with her, because she did it to herself. She knew what the alcohol was doing to her, and she kept drinking anyway, knowing she would die and not caring.

(To be fair, I should probably mention that I think, in the end, she did regret it. It was in her eyes the last time I saw her, though she couldn't say so with the tube in her throat.)

Matt's death, though, was wholly unexpected and entirely unfair. Death doesn't take fairness into account. You can't negotiate death away by reasoning how awesome your brother is, how everyone loves him, or how it's just not his time; he has so much left to do, so much going for him in the future. Death is a bitch, and when my time comes, I'm going to fight hard and show the reaper that I don't approve of him sneaking up on people.

If I could please have everyone's attention (or at least, that of those who've lasted this long): I'd like you all to raise your glasses to my big brother, Matt. He was one of the better people in this world of assholes. Everyone loved him, and everyone will miss him dearly. It's not fair, and it's hit us hard, but we'll continue on, because that's the way he would've wanted it.

I'm sorry you had to go so early and in such a hard way, but know that we'll never forget you.

As for remembering him, I think he said it best:

"Memories....

I remember sitting in ur room playing Darius Twins...

I remember going to the beach and going swimming with u and mum...

I remember playing with the ouija board in our back yard...

I remember mum's delicious swedish meatballs....

I remember being inseperable and the best of friends, luv ya sis :0)"

And Matt, the next drink I order will be a Grateful Dead, just for you.

R.I.P. Matthew Paul Stebbins
July 2, 1983 - December 21, 2007
I love you.

I'm sorry
I heard about the bad news today
A crowd of people around you
Telling you it's okay
And everything happens for a reason

When you lose a part of your self
To somebody you know
It takes a lot to let go
Every breath that you remember
Pictures fade away
But memory is forever

An empty chair at all the tables
And I'll be seeing you when all my days boil down
But it's better where you're going anyway

I'm sorry
I heard about the bad news today
It's really hard to get through
Tough times and long days
But it really just depends on the season

For now we'll say goodbye
We know it's not the last time
I've lost the best part of my day
But it's better where you're going anyway

This is the last thing I
I will remember
It's better where you're going anyway

"Sonny" - A New Found Glory

A Glimpse into: The life of a wanna-be.

2007-12-19T16:58:00.000-05:00

That's right, I said it -- I am a wanna-be.

And just what is it I want to be? Well, here's a bulleted list for you:

Novelist
Child psychologist
Sex therapist
Police officer
Animal cop
Veterinary assistant
Vet Tech
Vet
Neurosurgeon

Jesus Christ, you might be saying. Jesus Christ, indeed. My problem is not that I am unambitious, no; quite the opposite. I'm far too ambitious, and I can't pick and choose just one thing and stick with it. It's really god damn annoying.

Right now, I'm clearly on the psychology path, what with getting my degree in it and all. Yet, is that really what I want, to listen to other people complain, pretending the whole time that I actually care and see them as more than just a walking credit card? That doesn't sound so appealing. And how about that writer dream I've had since I wrote my very first story when I was six (and it wasn't bad for a six-year-old, either)? Can't forget it. And I love animals, wouldn't it be great to work with them instead of insufferable humanity? Damn right. I'm not joking about the neurosurgeon bit either.

Lately, I've wanted more than anything to get into law enforcement. Problem is, even with frequent google searches and such, I can't seem to figure out how. The best I can guess is you have to have an associates or bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice ( allcriminaljusticeschools.com ), and either apply directly to a law enforcement agency that may have no openings, or hope a recruiter comes to you. After that, you have to attend a 12 to 14 week police academy program.

Come on. That's retarded. If I want to put my life on the line and ultimately get shot in the face by some kid robbing a fucking Honey Farms, it should be a hell of a lot easier for me to do so than spending two more years in classes I don't want to attend, followed by maybe getting into a police academy, and spending four months having the spirit beat out of me, and then maybe, just maybe be hired by an agency that'll probably be halfway across the damn country, forcing me to pick up my life and move away (not that I would mind leaving this state forever and ever).

Since when did it get so hard to have a goddamn career?

A Glimpse into: the Life of a Waitress

2007-12-15T22:04:00.000-05:00

As you may have seen on my profile, I work in a restaurant.

Now, the food industry is not for everyone. It's very stressful -- the work is fast-paced and people are really, really demanding. Some people aren't going to tip you well no matter how hard you work. Some people will go so far to tell you how great you were, that you're the best server they've ever had, and they're so grateful... then you get to the table to find a shitty eight percent tip. Some people think ten dollars on a hundred-dollar bill is an amazing tip! Hell, some people know you were great and know they're stiffing you, and just don't care.

But really, that's the gamble you take in this business.

Just to add a personal story in for everyone's amusement: I was working the lunch shift today and was sat with a party of two. The girls looked to be about eighteen, and one of them was rather large. Not monstrous, but clearly a big fan of food. This actually encouraged me a bit, figuring they would get appetizers as well as dessert to go with their meals (and I was right).

I greeted the table and immediately sensed dislike radiating outward from Chubs. She answered all my questions in a flat voice and acted as if it was far to much effort to actually tell me what she wanted, that I should be extricating it all from her mind somehow. In short, she was a bitch.

Anyway, I bit my tongue and stopped myself from pointing and drawling, "Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat," and eventually managed to take the orders for their appetizers and dinners. Apps came out fine, it was Chubs's dinner that was the problem. Her baked potato didn't have enough -- are you ready for this? -- didn't have enough butter. The two huge scoopfuls buried under the mounds of cheese and bacon weren't enough! Are you fucking serious, lady? You're going to die at the ripe old age of 28 from cardiac arrest when one of those chunks of butter gets lodged in your artery. And no, I won't feel bad.

Long story short, I gave the cow her extra butter, and everything else, including the giant brownie dessert, came out fine. I was courteous, I was quick with refills, I was on the ball. Still, at this point, I wasn't expecting more than a twelve percent tip, max, regardless of the forty dollar bill the two had racked up. So finally, I brought the check and to-go boxes over, thanked them as usual, and tended to my other three tables. Some time later, I picked up the plate they had placed over their money and...

Three dollars. Wow. Didn't even break ten percent. That hurts.

Another thing many people don't know (or just don't care) is that waitresses literally live off their tips. No joke. We get paid $2.63 an hour, usually just enough to cover the taxes the government takes out of our paychecks, and sometimes we still owe money at the end of the year. Because of this, people who tip like shit are essentially letting their waitresses go hungry (of course I'm exaggerating here, but really now).

Conclusion
To all you people who have ever tipped below twenty percent to a good waitress: eat me.

Introduction

2007-12-14T00:59:00.000-05:00

I'll keep it short.

Everything you ever wanted to know about me is on my profile. I'll have a degree in psychology at the end of this month.

I don't yet know what this blog will focus on.

Have a good night.

Logic like Dalí Clocks

Something to believe in.

(Sorry for being emo)

Very short update.

Days 1 + 2

Oh, the lives we lead.

One Glorious Morning

I must have done something really bad for karma to treat me like this.

An actual update

Good lord, I actually wrote something

It's been a year.

Do you recall what was revealed the day the music died?

Keep living your false life / please wake me up from mine.

Sometimes I stop and stare of blankly into the distance, and I wonder.

It feels like there is gravel packed in tight between my skull and brain.

More for the song than the video.

Pukeworthy.

So,

My very first meme (kind of).

My story, let me show you it.

Forn... for... fornica... sex.

Go press a cancer machine to your head.

Wednesday, Typing Day, Idea Day!

Dinner party pictures because I like to show off my friends without telling them about it (warning, gratuitous pictures).

Mr. and Mrs. Davis?!

Apologies: better late than never?

It would be the most boring movie ever.

And so it has begun.

It's the Devil's juice...

"You put your tongues in each other's mouths?! Gross!"

A boy I know.

Fuses and breakfast and cloudy days.

Just a brief note...

Here's why Stephen King is amazing.

Interviews, interviews.

Self realization?

Sweet, cute, innocent... death metal?

Possibly the best conversation ever (slightly abridged).

The speed of light society.

Life is...

Some things you never, ever cared to know about me

This is ironic because it's in my blog.

Side note about HIAs.

June 21st!

Heaven in Aviators - an essay question.

Accomplishment!

It's been a while, shoot me. No, really.

Dear idiots...

I <3 Hardcore

So, I'm a writer.

I miss my brother.

Where the shit did everyone go?

Weekday mornings (suck)

Blog Review: What Would Tyler Durden Do?

Conflict of Interest

Skateboarding: Rune Glifberg

MotoX: Pastrana and Deegan

A Wilhelm Scream and Comeback Kid

Sick of It All explains NYHC

I love Comeback Kid, but they're a little weird

Life Misled

Weird Video: Wacky Soccer

Weird Video: Some stupid Japanese soap opera

Weird Video: 300 (PG version)

What the Shit?!

The Penny Arcade Remix Project

Weird Video: Bambi just wants a strawberry

Saddest Picture Ever

Video: Crysis

Web Comic: Wondermark

Video: Tom & Jerry

Weird Video: KP vs Batguy

Have you ever...

Weird Video: Tiny Sharks Suck at Hunting

Blog Review: I Can Has Cheezburger

Random post: Song lyrics

Blog Review: Outpost Nine

Blog Review: Gaijin Smash

Happy birthday to me

Subjective rant on the subject of: death