What kind of change is irreversible? Knowing you can always go back makes it easier to leave in the first place.
I'm reconsidering.
What kind of change is irreversible? Knowing you can always go back makes it easier to leave in the first place.
I'm reconsidering.
I'm advertisement free over at the UK edition of AOL.
Come visit Marissa's New Journal
I've also got a new screen name I'm trying out, but am keeping this one for a short period of adjustment just in case I don't like change and get uncomfortable.
Egg, it's been fun. <3
meloncholy | Aimee Mann
Okay, so here's my take this whole situation.
Apparently since my updates have been far and few these last weeks, I haven't noticed the oversized banners flashing and running amok on top of my journal's head. But the greedy AOL execs using my collection of thoughts as a form of advertisement has been brought to my attention through some of my favorite journals that were formerly located in our close-knit little community. These journals packed up their thoughts and words and what was left of their hope and moved on to different non-AOL journaling services. I will be doing the same.
I will leave my new address when I get there and settled in.
Am I sad to leave this journal behind? The one I wrote in for 2 years and 2 days?
Absolutely.
But this just shows me that it's time for a little change.
nothingness | Aimee Mann Invisible Ink
I feel like updating but I don't feel like I have much to say.
I went to the movies last night with my friend Megan to see "Derailed." Let me just say, the previews were totally misleading. The movie was horrifying. P.S. Clive Owen = hawt.
Has anyone else caught the inane one-word pseudonym for Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn and thier coupling? Grab a hose, folks, 'cause Vaughniston is heating up! As if Bennifer wasn't bad enough. What's next? Brangelina?
Ree-diculous.
I've been listening to Aimee Mann on a loop. I love her voice. I love the words. Her music and lyrics have made me miss writing poetry. I don't know why I haven't written in so long. Lack of inspiration, I suppose. And laziness.
I've found that doing stuff interrupts my laziness.
And as of late, I find myself becoming more and more of a Depresserella. I don't like it. I don't know if it's because I'm just bored with everything or if I'm still upset about John or if I've been thinking too much. Nothing feels worth it.
And let's face it. Nobody likes a Debbie Downer. I'm the fictitious cheese that stands alone. So on top of just feeling all-around morose, I feel a heavy sort of shame, too, toward my friends who have to listen to me and to my family, who have to live with me.
I'm not sure of what to do, really. What other options are there aside from medicine and therapy? My mom told me to go out for a walk and boost my seretonin levels. I think my seretonin level has been a steady 0 since the age of 5.
I'm pretty positive that nobody wants to date someone who is a complete basketcase. (what exactly is the functional purpose of a basket case? is there such a thing?)
I'm also quite sure that none of you want to read someone's depressing blog, either.
I have made the conscious decision that one day, when someone asks me how I'm doing, I would love to say "can't complain," and actually mean it.
Work has been stressful. It's Christmas time already there, so I've already had my fair share of potted silk poinsettas and light-up snowmen with high speed blinker setting. I've also been butting heads with one of my coworkers that I hate. My boss and I, however, totally bonded recently and she told me what a great worker I was. It made me giggle like a schoolgirl again.
In speaking of school,I would like to proudly announce that I have transferred to a college that I will start full-time at in January! I am quite excited.
Okay. This is the time in the morning where I have to talk myself out of bed. "Come on, Marissa. You can do it. There's a whole day ahead of me. And hopefully somewhere in that day there's a cup of coffee with your name on it..."
sad | Aimee Mann
So I haven't been feeling chatty lately. That Seasonal Affective Whatever may have kicked in. And it's kicking my butt.
I can honestly say, at this juncture, I am very unhappy. (suprise!) It bothers me to the very core that this is happening again. And the fact that I know I'm on the verge of a possible depression is enough for me to scream.
John and I are over. As quickly as it began...it's done. I'm not sure if it's over forever over, but for now it is.
The whole thing, while it lasted, seemed like a tease. How nice it was to be with somebody again. I'm sad it's over and I'm reallllllly going to miss him. (you can tell by the multiple lllll's that I will miss him allllllllot.)
I've been sleeping on this old-but-new-to-me antique couch I bought last week. And in honor of my ex-boyfriend's engagement to the girl he broke up with me for, I bought a nice TV to go with it.
Yep. You read that right. The boy I was sulking over when I started this journal two years ago is engaged. To a girl my age.
"The future bride has a degree in dance and exercise physiology. The couple resides in Albany."
HOW NICE FOR THEM!
God oh God am I bitter about this. My stomach is all in knots.
And inevitably I've began to question my self-worth because of it.
Picture it: Breakfast this morning with Anthony. I calmly sit at our table and open the paper to the Wedding Announcements.
Me: Ready for this?
Anthony's always ready for this.
I slide it over to his side of the table. I can see the happy couple freaking glowing from behind my sunglasses. I vomit a little bit in my mouth.
Anthony: So? He's engaged. Big deal.
Me: Big deal!? It is a big deal! She's my age! I want to get married!
Anthony: You don't want to get married.
Me: So? It'd be nice to be asked! It's not like John would marry me. Of course he was engaged before...
Anthony: Why are you even talking about this? Why do you want every guy to marry you?
Me: I don't want every guy to marry me. I just want one that would like to. I don't think I'd be bad tobe married to. I'm fun. (getting teary-eyed)
Anthony: You're so unrealistic. Not every guy is going to be the one.
Me: Why not? Why is everyone getting married and having babies? And I have a couch and no one to share it with. Besides, I never said I wanted to marry him.
Anthony: Bullshit! I can remember countless times you said you'd move to Albany with him and marry him. AND! I specifically remember an occasion when you said you would get a tattoo of his initials on your body!
Me: Did not!
Anthony: Did so! Shut down!
Me: I hate myself.
Anthony: Why? Because he's getting married? He's not even good looking! His head is HUGE, Mar. You can do better.
Me: All of the relationships I have been in that haven't worked out all had the common denominator of me. Maybe there's something wrong with me.
Anthony: Um, maybe there's something wrong with all of them. Don't blame it on yourself, sometimes things don't work out.
Me: Things never work out.
Anthony: Look at who you've dated! That boy when you were 13...
Me: We were 15 and very much in love! We dated for 2 years!
Anthony: Well whatever. And then you dated (name withheld to protect the gayness) and you don't ever have to worry about him getting engaged since it's illegal in the USA anyway. And now John...
Me: Don't forget Mario.
Anthony: You guys were never official.
Me: True. But I did really think he was the one.
Anthony: I've known you for a long time and you always felt someone was the one.
Me: That's because I want someone to be the one.
Anthony: Why?
Me: Because...it'd be nice. Not to have to do everything alone.
Anthony: You idealize these guys into being people they're not. Maybe Mario was great when you first met him but he certainly wasn't like that at the end. You wanted him to be that same person, but he never was.
Me: (head bowed in shame) Guilty as charged.
Anthony: And John. Please, don't waste your time. You're never going to be what he wants you to be.
Me: I know.
Anthony: So why feel bad about it?
Me: Because I'm alone again.
_________________________________________________
....and very unhappy with everything. Namely myself. I'm not sure I'm on the right track anymore. I need to reassess.
That's where I'll be.
Don't forget to congratulate the happy stinking couple. I hope you and your big head have a nice life filled with aerobics and jazzercise.
I keep going round and round on the same old circuit
A wire travels underground to a vacant lot
Where something I can't see interrupts the current
And shrinks the picture down to a tiny dot
And from behind the screen it can look so perfect
But it's not
So here I'm sitting in my car at the same old stoplight
I keep waiting for a change but I don't know what
So red turns into green turning into yellow
But I'm just frozen here on the same old spot
And all I have to do is to press the pedal
But I'm not
No, I'm not
People are tricky, you can't afford to show
Anything risky anything they don't know
The moment you try, you kiss it goodbye
So baby kiss me like a drug like a respirator
And let me fall into the dream of the astronaut
Where I get lost in space that goes on forever
And you make all the rest just an afterthought
And I believe it's you who could make it better
But it's not
No, it's not
No, it's not
It's Not - Aimee Mann
d.c. - drinking coffee | Jack Johnson
Ok, so I'm cheating - - - updating before I even get home!
It's my last few hours in D.C. and I had some time to spare before I hop a wee jet home tonight at 10.
I had a great few days...and I even accomplished what I set out to...made my decisions for the next few months, got a lot of thinking done. And alot of shopping, naturally.
I'm gonna miss it here, but like they say, it's a nice place to visit but I wouldn't wanna live here. Marissa's not the big city kind of a girl. Marissa is not one to talk in first person, either. I'm gonna miss Brian and the roomies, too.
Nina, his girl roomie, is FABULOUS. Wouldn't you know there was another Marissaling out there somewhere shopping in a parallel universe?! Our closets are almost identical! We have the same zebra jammies so Friday night we had a girls night and we wore our pjs and drank wine and knitted and talked about the boys and how lame they are.
I got over my phobia of escalators. And Metros. I still don't like Metros. if you asked me before my trip I would've said Metros? Isn't that a MLB team? And FYI, in case any of you plan and riding the wild Metro anytime soon, make sure NOT to laugh. People will give you DIRRRTY looks. There's no laughing on the Metro. This is Bob Dole's chair.
And I got Brian to watch 4 episodes of Sex and the City with me! Hahaha!
The weather wasn't so great. But hey! It's better than the week of snow predicted at home! It poured on us for 4 hours while looked at all the touristy stuff.
Yesterday I spent some time with Todd, the other roommate. He got me hooked on the Most Amazing Police Videos. I watched it for 5 hours straight. And ate Slim Jims. Thankfully Nina came home to rescue me before I started to grow a penis.
She took me out shopping and for coffee to get the testosterone out of my body and to regulate my estrogen levels by trying on shoes.
Somewhere between Metros and shoe shopping and touristing, I messed up my foot pretty bad. I don't know what happened but it KILLS. I felt like an old lady as I winced trying to hold my shopping bags and cross a busy intersection, without falling on my bad foot. I can't believe I have a bad foot! I'm only 20!
Alright people. Time to get offline. This is the last leg (or bad foot) of my trip and I'm not spending it sitting here! If you happen to be driving through Chevy Chase (Maryland, that is, hahaha.) and see a short girl hobbling towards Saks Fifth Avenue, don't honk, you will more than likely scare her.
do i really need to say? | Easy Ride Madonna
So I found the perfect place.
3 bedroom, washer & dryer and ONLY $750/month. It's in the cutest little neighborhood.
So I had this great little idea that maybe, just maybe, a few of my little 20-year old friends that live with their parents would like to maybe, I don't know, NOT live with their parents anymore?
Well at least I got to entertain the thought for a few hours before it was squished. It made me happy while it lasted.
: (
So other than the mega-disappointment...
I'm going to D.C. tomorrow.
intuitive | One Love Hootie & the Blowfish
The weather is absurd. It's affecting everybody. I don't think I've come into contact with one happy person in the last week and a half. My mother and I went for a drive today in the pouring rain and I saw a teeny tiny patch of blue sky and felt a little glimmer of hope well up in my chest. It was a major tease. And then it poured some more.
The weather in combination with EVERYTHING else has got me in quite the pickle. I'm starting to understand that every aspect of my life has some weird connection or parallel to every decision I find myself unable to make.
Deadlines for college applications are approaching...I think it's November 1st for most places. My heart was really set on Art History, but nowhere around here offers it. And I'm sure I won't have time in the next week to visit and apply to any colleges really...and to get all sorts of scholarships and financial aid. There's just no time. I need someone to hold my hand and guide me through the process apparently.
I merely mentioned I was thinking about going away to school and John throws a huge shit fit.
I don't know what I think or feel. About anything. I tried looking deep into my heart and all I find is black uncertainty. This is not where I wanted to be. I've been doing this indecisive bit for close to 3 years now. I think I think too much. That's what I think.
There are some things I know I want, but just don't know how to get to them. I want my own apartment. Preferably alone. I don't think there is one person that I could live with and tolerate for a long stretch of time, aside from Stephanie. But Stephanie just bought a house with her tempermental boyfriend. And she never calls me anymore.
Or maybe John. But it's too soon for that. And with John lately...I just don't know.
I'm torn between these decisions and its extra frustrating that I can't really talk to any of my friends about it anymore without feeling I'm being judged by them.
And I've started to wonder how many of my friends are really true friends. Alot of them, I've realized, are sort of temporary. But maybe there's nothing wrong with that? I just wish I had someone that was always there for me and the comfort of knowing that they always will be, and that I could do that for them.
And I feel like so much of my pending decisions are already made for me and cut and dry, in a sense. Like I know what I should or what society thinks I should do...and in regards to the ultra-radical feminism that has replaced societal and gender roles today, I feel like if I chose to stick with my relationship instead of maybe going away to school that I'd be somehow reverting everything that women have fought for.
And it's not like that.
There is a reason that some things are traditional. And what is so bad about that? Why does everything and everyone have to prove something? It's like, OOH! LOOK HOW FAR I CAN GO!
And all of these thoughts lately have been tying into my different theories and philosophies of the world and of the human condition and I'm beginning to form these thoughts and opinions that some "democrats" (using the term VERY loosely here) would consider "republican" or "conservative."
I believe that the further and further we get into this huge pissing contest of what is more shocking or the next big thing, that the term democrat has been replaced with liberal, thus making democrat more "republican" than a liberal. And just uttering the word republican in public will earn you looks like you just killed a puppy.
What it boils down to is this: If I decided that my relationship was important enough for me to stick around and get an education here, would I be shit upon by everyone and judged because "standing by your man" is too traditional for the nontraditional society?
Doesn't anyone see anymore that it is nice to have someone around? Or is everybody just out to prove that they can do it themselves and be entirely self-sufficient? I call that the "Look ma! No hands!" syndrome. And wholly speaking, if everyone only had their own interests in mind (which most do) wouldn't that just create a war for power or he who with most wins attitude?
What I want for me is to know that I could make it by myself if I had to. And I'm pretty sure I could. But I don't see the point in living this whole wonderful life without having someone there to share it with.
And I'm not necessarily saying with John. But with a somebody. And I don't think it shows a weakness in character. I think it shows integrity and strength that two people who are willing to be with each other and share their lives together. It's something that is majorly lacking in the world today and probably why everyone is bitter and cynical and miserable. Most people are too concerned with themselves and are too tied up in thier own lives to realize that there's a whole group of people out there in the same position. That we're all in the same little lifeboat floating away from the sinking ship. And that by fighting and rocking the little boat, we aren't getting rescued any quicker.
Just some things that were on my mind.
dude, sweet | Sarah Mclachlan
On a lighter note......this is too great not to share!
Last night, I got a phone call during my dad's birthday dinner.
Wait, before I get to the really good part, let me tell you about my dad birthday din-din. I made reservations for 9 of us (annoying grandma who hates me, uncle, mom, sis & her woman, brother & his woman, me & dad) for the restaurant my dad really likes. He invited his friend, Craig, too....so 10 of us.
Let me just say. Wow. How hot is Craig for a mid-40s guy? Me and my mom even took a bathroom break together to discuss how HOT he was. He was Tom Selleck circa Magnum P.I. HOT.
And he's a grandpa!
I bet his liscence plate on his HARLEY (because he rides one) reads 1HOTGPA.
He's absoultely the most charming guy ever. Even my Gram was flirting with him. (I think she was just feeling sexy because she just got new teeth and wanted to show 'em off.)
So I upstaged her. "Oh, Craig! My teeth are real!"
Hahaha. I'm kidding.
Throughout the meal, my mom's tolerance for Budweiser got lower, as did her shirt. I haven't seen her show off so much cleavage since the Bush Sr. Administration, when she was breastfeeding me.
------------back to the originial story------------
Alright. So we all know at this point that my favoritest movie ever (recently, anyway) was WEDDING CRASHERS.
So last night, during my dad's birthday dinner, I get a phone call from my ultra-fab friend Heather.
You're what? You want me to what?! Dude, I am SO there!
She was at a wedding in town! And wanted me to crash it! OPEN BAR!!!!!
Wooooooo!
So, an hour or so later, after pecking Craig on the cheek goodbye (he was going home to his wife, lame) I show up at the Radisson in a pair of jeans with holes in the knees (haha, no time to go home and change when there's OPEN BAR!) I meet up with a very tipsy Heather, who hands me a Cosmo (she knows me so well) and drags me onto the dancefloor just in time for the electric slide!
I was a real-life wedding crasher!!!!!!!!!
I hung out with the groom for a while at the bar after the reception. His oh-so-tired bride passed out upstairs before they could ...you know, do the "electric slide," if you will. He was bummed, so I bought him a drink. (Actually, I ordered him a drink and left before I could pay for it! Ha! Smooooth!)
Get this. Bride and Groom were 22.
22!
The insanity!
Later that eve, when I untipsy-ed myself, we drove to Wendy's for some 99 cent menu goodness.
We walked up to the doors, doin' the potty dance, to find the doors were locked.
As I turned to walk back to the car, discouraged, Heather begins pounding on the windows!
"I GOTTA PEE! AND I WANT SOME FREAKIN' BURGERS, DAMN IT! LET ME INNNNNNNNNNNNN!"
I love her.
discouraged | Sarah Mclachlan
So I thought I had it all figured out.
I finally decided not only on a college, but on my major and possible minors. Woohoo! Right?
Wrong.
Me and Murphy (from Murphy's Law, of course) have become best buds in these last few years. When when when will something work out?!
I sat down to fill out an application to my tenative school and, while flipping through the course catalog and list of majors, I found they didn't have mine! Suprise!
Soooooo....
I hop online to go to my back-up school, this time a school that specializes in my major and! SUPRISE AGAIN! It's a great school....to get a 2 year degree! But wait! I already have one of those!
I am so discouraged.
I know I could go away to school, but at this point in my life...it's not EXACTLY what I want to do. If I went away, I wouldn't be able to keep my job which would allow me to pay some of my college off while still attending and blah blah blah...
I could be flexible and just go away, like sometimes I feel I want to.
This really really really sucks. After this semester, I'm done with all of my classes. And come January, if I am not in school, WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO!
Work part time? NO WAY!
socially disturbed | The Dresden Dolls
It's my day off (and a rainy one at that) soooooo....I indulged in a little Dr. Phil. Normally, Dr. Phil isn't my usual cup of tea. Sure, he tells it like it is and in many cases, he's right, but to be honest, I'm not a HUGE fan. The show itself upsets me. It shines light on the jerks and basketcases of society, although some more authentic than others.
Today the topic actually interested me. He was holding debates on some recent "hot" issues and was having a guest on each side of the fence showcase their opinion in a representation of sort of the public opinion.
First came the topic of breastfeeding in public.
What do you think? Is it okay for a fine dining resteraunt to become a fine dining breasteraunt?
My opinion on this is...
No. It's not okay to lift up your shirt, baring your breast and sharing more than an appetizer with any one else at the table (or the resteraunt for that matter). However, it's a non-issue if the mother uses discretion by placing a blanket or a throw to cover herself and her child, at the table.
And No. It's not okay for a resteraunt (or any other public domain) to insist that the breastfeeding mother sit in the BATHROOM to feed her child. The act should be regarded and a special room or area should be designated specifically for it. There is nothing okay about having to sit in a grimy restroom to feed an infant.
It should be accepted by society as long as it's kept polite and respectful. Whipping out your breasts to make a statement is not saying "I have to feed my child," it's saying "I'm being an over-activist." Which most activists are.
Moving along....
The second topic of the show was passing out condoms in school. A do or a don't?
On this issue, I have to agree with the Philmeister. He believes that, if coupled with a sex education class, condoms should be available to students.
And I would also like to add that it is very much the parents responsibility to talk to their children about sex. HOWEVER. It is the school's responsibility to teach their children about sex. Parents have been known to be quite biased. Especially mine.
And the third and last issue...Do strangers have the right to discipline someone else's child that is publicly misbehaving?
No.
But they do have the right to be respectful to the parent on the issue. "Your child is disrupting (insert event here), could you please take care of it?"
Dr. Phil gave the example of having a nice meal that you are paying for or tickets you bought to a show, then being interrupted by an unruly child. Of course that is not okay. Remove the child from the situation. That is the parents responsibility that comes with having a child. Dr. Phil calls it "social sensitivity" and I believe that it should be taken into consideration, instead of being in rude in public because you have the right to do so.
It's not a matter of having and overtly exercising the right to do something. It's a matter of appreciating that you have the right to do something and to use some discretion while doing it.
I think that's a big issue with society today. Most people have become unappreciative toward their rights and have begun abusing them in order to make a "statement." There's always someone wanting to make a statement.
Wanna hear my statement?
Play nice.
religiously frustrated | Hootie and the Blowfish
Ok. I do admit I was very annoyed in the last entry. You have my sincerest apologies.
I'm not going to lie. Initially, when John and I stumbled onto the topic of religion the night we met, I was disappointed. Not necessarily that he was a Christian, but that he wasn't too understanding about mine.
So the other night after the fabuloso cd release party, I was John's d.d. so he could celebrate. On the way back to my house at 4:30 for french toast, conversation somehow shifted from the creepy guy at the bar who hit on me and told me I had a mouth like a sailor, to religion. A topic I told him from the start I didn't want to cover. After all, it's not like we're having a baby together and want it baptized. This was, up until recently, a very fun and relaxed relationship in the zygote stage and I was thoroughly enjoying it. There was no need for this serious of an issue...and inevitably, that serious of a fight.
After an hour or so of him talking about things that I didn't want to listen to and I sat silently on the bed, I told him "I think you should go."
He left my room without a word and I heard the door open. I didn't cry and wasn't too sad, just disappointed that he, of all people, wouldn't listen to a word I had to say on the subject without being called "ignorant."
But before I could even get up to close the door behind him...and us...he was back in my room and sat down next to me on the edge of the bed. "You know, I really don't want us to be apart."
I told him that I really liked him and that I didn't want us to be apart either. However, there was a compromise to be made.
I told him he did all he could do for me for the time being. And that IF (big IF) and when I decide I want to LEARN anything about it, or hear what he has to say, that I will come to him. And also, it's important for both of us to not denounce or deface the other's beliefs and to not criticize. AND! That in order for this to work, he must also have FAITH in me and in us as well.
Then I told him I was tired and to get out of my face. (It was 6:30 in the morning, damn it. Religion was the LAST thing I wanted to talk about.)
I woke up the next day just in time for work, but was miserable. I knew after the way things went last night that it'd never work out between us. His faith is too important to him and my lack thereof would never satisfy him. He said when he's with someone, he wants be spiritually with them as well. (Apparently "spiritual" to him means Christian. To me, spirituality has little to do with religion and can still be achieved without humping bibles.)
So all day at work, I planned how I was going to break up with him. Even though I really really really really didn't want to. But I just couldn't see any common ground.
So I called him after work and he asked how I was and all I could say was, "I want my Nintendo back."
I don't know what happened. But something did. And we're still together. Very HAPPILY together, I might add.
And last night, I brought the topic of religion up. And I asked him a question about his faith. We got into it a little bit, I'm sure we only scratched the surface....have you ever seen the size of that book? Well anyhow...he answered my question and was very tactful in doing so, and shut up the minute I told him "enough."
If there is some greater unseen force, I can see why he brought us together at this point in our lives. We both could use a little balance.
But that's a big if.
annoyed | Extraordinary Machine Fiona Apple
The last entry I told you about the good stuff....so here's the inevitable...The Bad.
After witnessing someone get hit by a car, I began having panic attacks every time I get behind the wheel. This is the first time I've had panic attacks since high school. I didn't miss them. I'm okay behind the wheel now, but the panic attacks are still very much present for different reasons.
Like the impending winter. The impending miserableness of it. The cold, the snow...the Mother Nature f-ing with your plans. I want to cry just thinking about it.
Even though it's been less than 2 months, John and I do have our issues. And my, what BIG issues they are. Who woulda thought that one night of great impromtu scromping would turn into heated discussions (to say the least) on whether or not God exists...who woulda thought that the hawtie band singer is a slight bible thumper, wanting to turn me into his very own bible case study.
We've finally reached a compromise after some brutal arguements....but....
I'm not sure I can get past it.
I accept who he is and his faith and all....but I cannot accept that he "will pray for me on his own time that one day I will see the light."
Just get me a gun, please.
I will be damned the one day that things will actually work out for me.
I still really like him. But when he's like that, it's impossible for me to. I feel like he will never see me as a good person unless I somehow become a Christian. (Not happening, FYI.) And considering all the things I do for him ...like cooking for him because he's homeless and poor...taking him to school when I can, so he doesn't have to walk. But all of that aside, if I'm not Christian, I'm no good.
I'm very fortunate to have him in my life, because I really do care for him and enjoy helping him out when I can and spending time with him...I just wish something that means so little to me and means the world to him didn't have to come between us. My brain doesn't think in terms of serving some greater unseen force. And it kind of scares me that he does.
To be completely honest.
I don't know.
All I know is that it hurts. And it sucks. And I can't see what to do from here. With him. Or with me. Or with anything.
Where'd my other shoe go?
Oh, it seems to have dropped.
sleepy | Her Space Holiday
I just finally got to sit down in front of my computer...I hadn't realized how messy my desktop (both of 'em) got.
I have pay stubs and bank slips in a pile with reciepts and shirt tags (just in case, you never know) ... bandaids and Dr. Scholls, to get rid of that pesky wart on my foot...a stack of books that I started reading. I'm a total Gemini (if you believe in that stuff...or if you just think it's cool, like me) I start one, I start a bunch...let's just see if I finish now. I'm reading "100 People Who Are Screwing Up America (And Al Franken is #37" (c'mon, who isn't reading it?) "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" (I'm a little behind) "The Miracle of Jimmy Carter" (I'm dying to know what the actual miracle is) "Survivor" by Chuck Palahunik (I'm reading this on accident. A coworker of mine left it in the breakroom and I picked it up and started reading it and WHOA! (said like Joey Lawrence) it's dayum good!)
Kat left me a cd on my desk..."Her Space Holiday" ...loving that.
I have my digital camera plugged in and uploading onto my pc...if you look at the pictures above you will see...
Me & Lauren....my new and fabulous friend.
Me & John...my new and fabulous boyfriend. or whatever. (see what being single for so long does to you?)
Someone get me a towel.
No, seriously.
John has a mangina. His crotch somehow ripped during band practice. He wore his pants like this when he met my dad for the first time. That went real well.
Me and my new and fabulous friend Maria.
He looks like he's smothered in Vaseline (tm).
I'm a real bad photographer. I tried to be discreet though, so I wasn't the girlfriend with trigger happy camera finger.
These pictures were from his cd release party. And allow me, if you will, to DISCREETLY name drop for a moment and implement the use of hyperlinks to direct you places.
Seriously, check them out. Idol Hands
The party was really fun. I got to dress up and be my fabulous self and play lead singer's girlfriend. Totally RAWKS, people.
That's the good stuff I've been up to. In a pile of thoughts.
sad | all of the noise in my head
Tonight on the way home from work I passed a body lying in the street. His bike was a few yards away, the back tire spinning. A car was parked with it's flashers behind him.
I called 911. I wished there was more I could do.
I went to John's a little while later, still really upset and he told me all I could do was pray for him.
I think that was the first time I really wished I could pray. And I tried it for a little while, while we laid in bed but I couldn't. My mind just kept listening to the ticking of the clock on his wall. It was funny I never seemed to notice it before. I closed my eyes and all I could see was his body and all the people standing around him. The back tire still spinning. My gasp. I finally gave up and got up and got dressed, told John goodnight and got in my car. I felt really small behind the wheel, all of a sudden. I drove back to where it happened only a few hours before.
As I suspected, it was like any other night...I was the only car on the road at 2 a.m. I wondered if anything really happened at all.
I turned around to drive home and saw a star twinkling in the sky.
I prayed.
reflective | "Beast of Honor"
For some reason, I woke up earlier than usual this morning. I rolled out of bed at the crack of 9:30 and found myself with a whole day ahead of me.
It was 10:30-ish by the time I left my house to go get coffee. And as I drove, for once not rushed to get to school or work, I noticed something.
The leaves are beginning to change.
And then I noticed something else. I had a sweater with me and my windows were only rolled halfway down. Fall is officially here.
Initially I was sad to leave my summer behind. My summer that was the best summer of my life. It started out perfect with a wonderful birthday and then a trip to Europe... and finally meeting one of my bestest online friends ever (I met Amber through AOL Journals!), taking Sean to Six Flags before he left for Florida and having a kickass time, getting to know and falling in love with the wonder that is Katarina...hanging out at the movie theater and seeing Wedding Crashers wayyyy too many times...not to mention being promoted and getting two raises. I got to go off-roading in my baby (allow me to introduce you to my fabulous truck!) ... Damn, this summer has been perfection.
I'm sorta sad to see it go.
However...
This fall is looking pretty good as well. I've already been baking, since autumn is the time for pie and have been feeding all my friends and coworkers. I've got my trip to D.C. in less than a month, I'm adoring my Art class and even more than that...I'm adoring John. *giggles like the TOTAL girl she is*
It's a time for change, corny I know, but it's very welcomed.
rolling my eyes | Auf Der Maur (seriously, what else is new?)
C'mon, really. Don't we have BIGGER problems?
Howabout that BIG problem over there in Iraq? Or that BIG problem-o down in Lousiana and the Gulf states? How about the BIG problem with BIGGIE-sizing everything?
Let's lay off the BIG SQUID. Just because it's BIG doesn't make it breaking news. Really people, work with me here.
I think we have BIGGER issues, no?
nostalgic | Auf Der Maur
Ok, ok. So it's not the Journal I promised. But I did want you guys to see my pictures, so here they are.
This group was from the 4th day in Luzern. We took a tram to the top of the Alps (Mount Pilatus, to be exact) where we had lunch before taking a trainride down the side.
After the tram ride up and the train ride back down, we got on a boat and cruised back into town. The boat ride was amazing. I took tons of pictures because every view was different, each beautiful in their own way.
We met a group of French men that were released from the Swiss Army that day and one of the guys who didn't speak very good English told me his name was Phil Collins. I snapped a photo of him and mentioned if he were to Google himself he'd find this picture. His friend translated to which Phil Collins replied with a look of disgust, "You bitch."
Phil Collins called me a bitch.
And that folks, is my grandest memory of my voyage to Switzerland.
going through the motions | Auf Der Maur
I've actually done this one before...
1. Go into your archive.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the 5th sentence of that post.
4. Post text of that sentence with these instructions.
5. Tag 5 other people to do the same:
Mine 23rd post goes as follows:
Tis The Season to be Disgruntled
I'm sitting here in the midst of piles and piles of Christmas presents. I do realize that I will drown in them until that fateful day which could come sooner if it'd like. I've almost had my fill of red and green and "Joy to the World" and of that so-called "Christmas Cheer." You know, that cheer that makes crazy mothers and fathers push and shove you into the giraffe display at Toys R Us, that same "Holiday Cheer" that makes the disgruntled sales clerks grit thier teeth if one more person asks for the "doll that poops all over," or "that video game with you know, that superhero."
And what I'm sick of most isn't the long lines or the hiked up prices or the crying little banshee children, what I'm fed up with is the actual term "Holiday Season." Last time I checked there weren't 5 seasons: Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall and Holiday. No. This is not the "Holiday Season." This is pre-winter, this is post-fall, but Holiday? Uh-uh. What makes Christmas more holiday-y than say, Veterans Day? The fourth of July? Because there's a fat man that rides around in the sky in a sleigh with velvety bags filled with gifts for all of those who were good this year? Or because egg nog is in season (the winter season, not the holiday season!)? Or is it just because there's a tree involved? Because you know, anytime there's a tree involved it makes it more of a holiday! NO! NO! NO!
Why the decorations? Why the profuse spending? Why the trees in the house?! TREES BELONG OUTSIDE! DUH!
So next time you're being tossed around in the aisles of a toy store, remember that you are only there adding to the madness. And that you should leave, IMMEDIATELY. Drop whatever inane gift you have in your hand for Aunt Polly or your daughter's college roomates boyfriend's parents neighbors and leave. Head out of the store, shield yourself from any flying carts and seek shelter in your car. Then, drive home, open some canned cranberry sauce and wish it was Thanksgiving everyday.
Have a lovely day and watch out for any loose shopping carts falling from the sky.
And my 5 invitations to do the same are:
1- Kathleen (who can totally just substitute pictures of her adorable son, Isaac)
2- Leslie (who has been MIA from Journal Land forever!)
3- Amber on her Xanga account
4- Kat on her LJ
5- Anthony on his LJ
hungry | Duran Duran
And so continues the year of the travelling girl.
October 20th, it's all about D.C., baby. : )
It's about time I had another vacation.
And tonight, I'm thinking about Kathleen, who is more than likely in labor...stop by and leave her and her new son Isaac some lovin'.
sad | when september ends Green Day
Still not feeling better.
My mom even suprised me with presents this morning to try and cheer me up, but to no avail. She bought me 4 boxes of tissues for my room and a calendar of Italy.
I talked to Mario last night out of nowhere. He's still that same fucked-up, ever so melodramatic trainwreck. He made his bed, let him lie in it. I just wish I hadn't wasted so much time and energy on such a lost cause. I was certain he was the one, but last night I realized that my one would never treat me like that. I guess it is true what they say, you can't choose who you love. Or loved.
I just hope I never have to see or hear from him again. I want to move forwards, not backwards. And I want to do it with someone who deserves me. He never did.
I was thinking about sending him a singing telegram. Just to say that I think you are a huge piece of crap. With warm regards, Marissa.
I'm just sad. Not really about any of that bullshit, but just with other things. Alot of my friends have let me down...and I have let myself down alot, too. I wish September could be over.
My parents are leaving for Thanksgiving, which means....POTLUCK T'GIVING AT MY HOUSE! Whose in charge of the potluck keg?!
When my sister moved out, she took all of the Sex and the City dvds with her. I'm TOTALLY going through withdrawals. I could really use something to boost my seretonin levels...
sad doesn't begin to describe it | Clock Milla Jovovich
I seriously think I am going crazy.
My mom picked me up from work today and as soon as I got in the car, I started crying. She asked me if I would go into the grocery store with her and it made me cry harder.
I cannot believe the shitstorm that has been sent my way. And I further cannot decipher my emotions - - - it's too soon to be PMS, it could be the anitbiotics for my obnoxious UTI, could be the change of the seasons....could be PEOPLE. Like family people. And ex-people. And people who like to post internet outreaches instead of big grand movie-like gestures. People who are fickle and selfish and indecisive and MEAN. People who are arrogant and overly-stuck on themselves and talk down to people. People who don't pay people back! People who get mad at you for not wanting to kiss them! People who send you explicit pictures without warning! And customer people. Crabby customer people, for that matter. (sorry about that. just had some things I wanted to vaguely get off my chest.)
I feel like everything I worked so hard to put back together is falling apart. Just call me Humpty Dumpty. (The Dumpty's could've used an updated baby name book.) My summer was so beyond unforgettable and utterly amazing...and here comes fall...ing apart.
I feel like time is the wet blanket to my fire.
awful | would if i could Auf Der Mar
I sometimes forget that I am writing this journal for me. I feel like I want to be entertaining for the few people who actually do read this and I feel guilty for being bad at updating and for not finishing things....I don't know.
Today was weird.
I keep having these images of myself running ...not like a marathon or anything, but more like away from everything and from everyone. I have this need to GET OUT. I want to be ALONE. I can't have my parents prodding at me for useless tidbits of information and I can't have them knowing everything and questioning my existence. And it's that stupid car. The one they let me drive. That's the nail in the coffin.
Kat and I are starting to look at places (and by look I mean too lazy to look) so that maybe we could move out and in together. But we wouldn't have a car. And I don't mind the Utica Transit Authority at all, it's just I don't wanna be riding that shit at 10:30 at night when I get out of work. Everything is an effing trade-off. I want something to be easy. For once.
I feel like I want some sort of resolution.
I'm starting to really like John. And it's absolutely scary. I'm still unsure of calling him my boyfriendorwhatever. I liked it when he was just the guy I was sleeping with. I didn't really think it'd be anything more than gettin' our honk on in my truck. But now it's the holding hands and the actual SLEEPING together. I find myself really happy to see him. And it's nice having someone say they like you and not treat you like absolute shit. And allow me to reiterate that he's totally HAWT when he sings.
I feel like there are so many things I need to accomplish but can't with my parents breathing down my neck every 2 seconds. And they take such a offense. "You wanna move out? Why? Are we that awful?"
BUT THATS NOT IT! YOU GUYS ARE NOT LISTENING! KEY WORD BEING LISTENING!!!!!!!
I want to be alone. I don't want to answer you questions. I don't want to live off of you my entire life. I want my own life. I want my own kitchen so I can use my own plates and cook the kind of food I want. I want to have friends over. I want to get my honk on. I want to be an ADULT. There, I said it. I want to be responsible for me. And I think I'm at that age where it's time I learned so I don't end up living in this house for 20 more years with a part time retail job. I don't want to need you guys anymore. I want to need me. And you just don't get it.
I feel SO guilty. They give me everything, including $65/week to fill up the truck that they let me use. And they feed me and give me a roof over my head. I'm the last one. My brother and sister don't come around much anymore and my mom doesn't have any friends. I'm her buddy. The thought of her sitting alone day after day hurts me. And the tought of my dad coming home to a quiet house after working 10 hours breaks my heart. Is this all there is? Without their kids, what else do they have? They aren't exactly the kind of people that go out to dinner with friends or have card games at the house. They have their kids over for big dinners. We're their people.
I'm not trying to be ungrateful. I'm not being selfish. I'm simply wanting to grow up. My everything is telling me it's time. It feels so big inside of me.
And I can tell my brother is not okay. His girlfriend lost the baby. She moved in and he hasn't really been around much. I stopped by yesterday and neither of them had much to say about anything. I'm not crazy about her. She's rude and gives my family dirty looks.
Today would've been my brother's 4th wedding anniversary. She took everything and ran, left us with $100,000 in debt. I never saw her again. I never said goodbye. But something tells me I wouldn't have been able to. It was too much.
Neither my brother nor my sister call me. I always do the calling. And the planning. It's too much for just me to hold this family together. And what would happen if I left?
I'm just so...sad. I'm sad here. I want to misplace it. I want it to get lost in a truckful of moving boxes. Twenty years seems like too long to still be living here. To still be doing this. I'm still a fucking student. ...But that's a whole 'nother chestnut.
I hope this funk leaves me soon.
For today Im lost without you,
Forgot the way to be without you.
Yeah you know I would stay alone,
Yes i would if I could stay alone.
But for today Im lost without you,
I need a way to be without you,
Need a way to find just a few of you.
Yeah you know I would stay alone,
Yes I would if I could stay at home,
Dont you know I would if I could?
Remember the day I was lost without you?
I found a friend who laughs just like you.
Yes I would stay alone,
Yes I would if I could.
Brr, it sure is cold here in hell since it froze over | I'd like you to meet my pet unicorn
Let me just say...oh my god. What's next? Hanson's 401k? ...(wow, that is so not the equivalent)...
It's going to be a great looking baby. And by great looking I mean totally ugly.
Someone go find Ross Perot and tell him I thought he was a great President.
...someone pinch me.
orgasmic | The Ramones
7 Things I Can Do (in no particular order)
1- sing all of "Genie in a Bottle" by Christina Aguilera backwards.
2- bake pies
3- wear a fabulous outfit that costs less than $20, including shoes.
4- play guitar
5- drop it like its hott
6- and consequently, shake it like a Polaroid.
7- not resist getting Sno Caps at the movies.
7 Things I Can't Do (in no particular order)
1- parallel park
2- spell PARALLEL without looking it up.
3- keep secrets
4- listen to screaming children
5- throw a Frisbee properly
6- update my journal with a decent entry. (hence why I'm doing this. FILLER! FILLER!)
7- go one day without hugging my best stuffed animal friend, Fluffy.
7 Things That Attract Me To The Opposite Sex (in no particular order)
1- ARMS.
2- good kisser, and I've had my share of bad ones.
3- sense of humor
4- sense of humility
5- respectful
6- good HAIR!
7- must find me AMAZING.
7 Things I Say Most Often (in no particular order)
1- F*** around and get shot.
2- Kemosabi is gonna get some flavor.
3- homeskizzy
4- I heart you.
5- Thank you for calling Michaels of New Hartford, this is Marissa speaking how may I direct your call?
6- Cruskie out.
7- sketchy stoner!
7 Celebrity Crushes (in no particular order)
1- Vince Vaughn
2- Ray Romano
3- Natalie Portman
4- Jon Bon Jovi
5- Milla Jovovich
6- Bam Margera
7- Josh Groban (yeah, I said it.)
frustrated | Sam Cook
I've reached my breaking point.
I am 20 years old. It's time to MOVE OUT. I seemed to have outgrown the parental penitentiary.
Now the only question is how.
congested | Auf Der Mar
I'm feeling a bit antisocial, I suppose.
I've been meaning to post the rest of my pictures and stories from my trip but I never seem to get around to it. I'm an asshole, forgive me.
So this someone that I mentioned...
He's a someone. I like him. Alot. His name is John and he's the lead singer of a band. How cliche' am I?
We met a few weeks ago at one of his shows. His best friend is dating one of my coworkers and I guess one night he came in the store and saw me and thought I was the female equivalent of a stud muffin. Then he saw my truck. Vroom Vroom.
The night of his show we talked and had drinks and talked some more and...one thing led to another, yadda yadda yadda....fast forward two weeks and ready, set, relationship.
He even called me the G-word.
...and I TOTALLY freaked out.
I can't be someone's girlfriend. I'm out of practice. I'm scared. I have future plans that don't include someone else.
But he's so much fun. We have sleepovers and play Nintendo and watch Conan together. And he's so unbelievably delicious when he sings. And when he comes over all sweaty and gives me a big kiss and hug right when he's done. How lucky am I?
And he's SMART.
There are things about him that initially I wasn't so crazy about. Our religious and political beliefs are strikingly dissimilar and going into it I thought these things would become dealbreakers, but they haven't. I accept him for who he is and he accepts me for who I am.
And when we're together we are a SUPERPOWER.
I'm sorry. I needed to gush.
How's that for a G-word?
Beast of Honor - Auf Der Maur
I’m a taste test, at the beast fest,
Got your crest on my breast
Take one look at your cook
Feed yourself, I'm on a hook
(At this feast of ours)
The feast taste, you could say
Paints my taste on his face
(I’m in disguise, at this feast of ours, hours of devours)
Fall into the arms
Of a souvenir of healing
What a weak feeder, oh oh oh
Fall into the arms
Of a souvenir of healing
What a weak feeder, oh oh oh
I’m a harm healer
Such a weak feeder
What a gut teaser on a hook
I’m on a hook, I'm on a hook
Smell that cook
No more ditch dealer
I’m your dream digger
At this feast of ours,
I’m the beast of honor, Honor
Fall into the arms
Of a souvenir of healing
What a weak feeder, oh oh oh
I’m in disguise,
At this feast of ours
I'm baaaack. My computer is fixed.
And damn, I have ALOT to say.
What else is new?
disturbingly giddy | Auf Der Mar
I know, I know. It's been way too long. The thing is, my laptop had a little bit of an eSTD and I had to pay a visit to the Geek Squad over at Best Buy to give my baby a 'lil checkup. So now I'm trying to get used to dial-up on top of the weird keyboard on Fath's computer.
My journal entries and account of my trip will soon hopefully resume. And as for me, well...I've been keeping busy. You read it here first...I met someone. Or someone who could maybe be a someone. But shhh...
Keep it on the DL.
Me? I'm just gonna enjoy this one while it lasts.
See you in a few.
: )
far from fabulous | Talking Heads
Ow! I hurt myself jumping on the bandwagon!
Let's Play A Game!
The game: ASK ME ANYTHING
Here's how we play:
- Ask me 3 questions. Any 3, no matter how personal, private or random.
- I have to answer them honestly. I have to answer them all.
- In turn, you post this message in your own blog or journal and you have to answer the questions that are asked of you.
I'm ready. Hit me with your best shot! (That's what Tina said...)
sad | the cranberries
Everytime I go to write something I backspace it. I'm never pleased with just rambling...I don't have a specific direction for this entry...or life.
Warning: Rambling Ahead, Proceed With Caution.
- Everytime I get enough motivation to go look into a college that I may be interested in, I feel like I've been kicked in the lungs. I know it doesn't have to be that big of a decision...it's not like I'm...picking out a college. Hmm. That old adage seems to have failed me this time. I went to a friend for advice, but found it more unsettling than anything.
Friend: "Having a Bachelors degree doesn't ensure you a good job anymore. A Masters does."
'Spose I didn't realize the shelf life of a 4 year degree. Whats next? Can't be a janitor until you have a PHD? Gimme a break.
For a long time, it was the money that bothered me about going away to school. I've always planned on going to a state school since its cheaper (and since my parents spent my college fund on my brother and his inconvenient lifestyle choices) and I even got accepted to the one I thought I really wanted to go to. But I went and visited and hated it.
My friend goes to a University that I really liked when I visited. Trouble is, it's well over $30,000/year. And as much as I would LOVE to be in debt the rest of my life with a yellowing piece of parchment saying I've had the proper training to sit on my ass in a cubicle all day and get paid for it, I still cannot get myself to get the ball rolling here. I applied once two years ago and got accepted, I just have to reapply now and send my transcripts and $40 for some unknown reason. This education bullshit is really quite the expensive ordeal. If you ask me, I think it should be free for everyone so we all have the equal opportunity for the same good ol' American education. But that would mean that everyone would be the same. And there's always some prick in the group that has to be better than everyone else. Ladies and Gentlemen, Capitalism.
But I digress.
Soooo anyway, the thing is...do I dig myself an early financial grave by going to the school I really want to go to (basically for the atmosphere) that doesn't have a strong concentration in my intended major OR do I suck it up and go to a crappy state school that hasan alright department in whatever it is I decide to do with my life (because you have to define it early on...is there a major in LIVING? Because that's all I really wanna do with my life) ?
How do I even go about trying to decide what I want to do? I know the first and foremost important thing to me is travel. Do I want to be a stewardess? Negatory. How about a travel agent? Nope.
I'm not good with computers, I could care less about the stock market, I hate children. I like antiques, food and art. I've taken the computerized tests that give you different options of which career path to take. My dreams of becoming a professional cabinet builder have been shattered by the wretched truth that I am not a skillful craftsman.
And working in a craft store isn't exactly rewarding. If the only other option to being treated by customers as a slave to retail is going to school, then so be it. I'll go to school.
In speaking of retail (did somebody say Hell?) when did the entire world get their panties in a bunch? Okay, maybe not the entire world. Just the crafty sector. And when did it become okay to yell at a cashier for not having a sale ad out this week? Last time I checked, a 20 year old girl in Utica, New York wasn't in charge of printing fliers for a store based out of Texas.
How insanely stupid are people? ( insert personal accounts of many here).
Stuff like that really gets to me. It's not like I want to work. Especially for people that I don't like. This isn't what I want to do. And, I'm not gonna lie, the ONLY reason I have that job is so my mom would stop nagging me about getting one.
I could live without earning a measley $8.00/hour. If I really wanted to do nothing and still have a meal three times a day and a roof over my head I'd commit a crime and become a permanent resident in the clank, resting comfortably on many fine citizens' tax dollars from their shitty jobs that leave them feeling unfulfilled and regretful of their paths not chosen.
But it's getting late and I'm getting increasingly more sad and bitter.
Day 4 is soon to follow, although I'm not sure when. Eight straight days of retail hell and crabby customers awaits me. At least it's a good reason to procrastinate deciding on which institution to sign my life over to.
Life.
Sorry I missed it. I was at work.
sleepy | Wedding Crashers soundtrack!
June 3, 2005
At this point, I had not slept in two and half days. I wasn't even tired anymore. I was just...existing. Harles and I planned the day around our meals. We'd get up, join the group for continental breakfast (aka a fancy array of bread and mineral water, very "continental" jackasses) and hop on a random bus in hopes of getting lost in a foreign country. Everyday was a new experience. We never knew where we'd end up...or if we'd ever find our hotel again.
On this particular evening, Harley, David and I were laying in bed, unable to sleep AGAIN. We had no clocks in the room and not one of us had a watch, even. Nights seemed endless. If I wasn't trying readjust and get comfortable laying between the cracks of two single sized beds, I was staring at the ceiling. David sang dirty songs to me to try and entertain me, but I just got progressively irritated. At one point I rolled over and saw Harley snuggling with a pair of jeans.
My insomnia and boredom were interrupted by a knock on the door. I was nervous, so I made David get up to answer it. It was Amanda, one of the girls on the trip with us. Apparently she couldn't sleep either and was wondering if any of us wanted to go out. Oh, hell yes.
We figured out it was 2:30 a.m. We all got dressed in the dark and quietly walked down the stairs into the lobby and I snuck a purseful of truffles for the road. We decided we all wanted food so we put together our Francs and (made a frankfurter!) headed toward the train station, hoping something in there would be open.
The four of us circled around a vending machine trying to decide what to rot our American teeth on when a voice from behind us echoed "You speak English?"
We turned around and saw two girls sitting on a bench, one was sleeping in the others lap. "Where you from?" She asked.
"New York."
"I'm from Minnesota. And she's from California." She motioned to the now slightly awake girl in her lap.
"What are you guys doing here? Vacation?" We asked, walking over to the bench. I was so happy to find English speaking people that I walked away from a vending machine full of American candy.
We sat and talked for about an hour or two. They were backpacking through Europe as a graduation present to themselves and had been all over. Switzerland was their last stop before home. They explained to us that they had missed their train and that there wasn't another one until 6 in the morning, so they had been waiting there since 9 or so for the next one.
After a while of more talking, the four of us, sans our new friends, decided to go out and explore some more before it got even later. Walking the empty streets we realized it was going to be damn near impossible to find anything open. We walked through the park and past the big cement wall of teacups and saucers and found another little Kebap shop with a little beam of light pouring out the open door. We have arrived! Food!
If you can't sleep, eat!
We walk in and order our food and sit at a booth in the back. In fact, the entire wall was one booth and we were sharing it with everyone else in there. I sat next to a southern looking lady who wore too much makeup, but smiled at me when I sat next to her. We watched the Swiss version of MTV and I was mesmerized by all the energy these Europeans have in their music videos. It was insane. Everything was so upbeat that you'd wonder whether or not any of 'em ever had a bad day in their life. Not to mention, obesity is not really an issue for non-Americans, so that explains the energy level, I suppose.
Other than the music, the four of us were quiet while we ate. I could feel myself getting increasingly more tired, yet I knew no matter what I tried, I wouldn't be able to sleep. We walked back through the park and toward the train station where wanted to make a little delivery before going back to the hotel. We brought the girls some food for their trip home.
When we got to the room we changed back into our jammies and put on the TV. It was rumored that you get 10 minutes or so of free porn before they start charging you for it. Turns out, moaning is universal. Just wanted to clear that up.
10 minutes of free foreign porn and the Swiss version of Mannequin starring Kim Catrell later, the sun was rising and it was time for another cruddy breakfast compliments of the Weiner Salon. (I kid you not, that was the name of the resteraunt in our hotel. And if food is their business, I suggest they stick to weiner hairdressing, as the name implies.)
For our last day in Basel, Harley and I thought we'd try something new and - - -shop. Again. So we hop a train without knowing where it's headed and hope it's not to a slum. We end up on the other side of River Rhine which is also shopping central. At first glance, this part of Basel has a strikingly similar feel to SanFransisco, with the cable cars and the close, parallel streets lined with shops and cafes.
We shopped for a few hours, most of which were spent in the extremely large H&M. I hit about 20 shoes stores, on average. Around 2, Harley and I finally felt like we could sleep. We hopped a bus back to our hotel (that's a lie. We hopped the wrong bus at first and ended up somewhere that was not our hotel. So we actually hopped 2 buses to get where we were supposed to be. I am no conquistador.) and I slept! For 4 whole hours! Not bad for 3 days!
We woke up around 7-ish and Mama had yet another hair crises. Mama's chi was still seemingly broken and I was getting really good at convincing him that nobody, other than himself, cares what his HURR looks like. So around 8:30 we left the room and hopped another bus to hopefully a resteraunt somewhere.
I'm not really sure where we ended up but something tells me it was the Manhattan of Basel. Designer stores, fancy resteraunts...I was home! We settled on a place to eat and Mama and I shared a nice meal together. We had $22 antipasto. And the best ice cream ever.
Trying to get back to the hotel again was another project in and of itself. Apparently the trains and buses stop running at a certain time. And apparently bus drivers are accustomed to abandoning ship without checking if people are still on it. For long periods of time. Yeah.
Mine and Harley's conversation on the back of the bus can be described like this: "You say something." "No, you say something." "Oh my God. I'm so scared. What are we gonna do?" "Do you think that guy looks like Dustin Hoffman?" "Yeah, a little."
Finally by the grace of some unseen force, the bus starts moving again. I don't know if it was the driver or if it was some random dude off the street, but I didn't care.
When we got back to the room, David was nowhere to be found. I decided that I didn't want to share a bed with him anymore. Waking up with his arms around me was enough to make me gag at this very moment just thinking about it. The sleeping arrangements needed an adjustment, quick, before he got back.
Aha! We would sleep in the bathroom! Capital idea!
So we take our feather bed and some blankets, pillows and a lamp and set up shop in the loo! This ought to teach him, we thought. He can have that whole bed to himself and we'll sleep on the cold tile floor!
"Girl, mama is not comfortable."
After all our hard work setting up a master suite in the master bath, we both realized that, while sleeping in the bathroom is funny, it's not the most comfortable. So we came up with a better idea.
We pretended to be asleep on the bed when David came in. And when he peered over at me, on his side of the bed, drool POURING out of mouth, he decided it might be better to sleep on the floor. So thats what he did.
I never slept better in my life.
politcally disgusted | Green Day
My thoughts on the matter : AOLNews Prince of Pot Seeks Support
-Doesn't America have bigger issues to be dealing with? Aren't we at war?
Here's a list of the negative effects of pot smoking from : WebMD
What they inherently fail to mention is that these side effects can also be found in alcohol and cigarettes, both of which are LEGAL.
It is said that marijuana is the source of moral decay of today's society. But that's bullshit. People are the moral decay of today's society. People that are power hungry and have their own self-serving interests in mind not that of their fellow people and of their country, are the moral decay. People trying to teach limmericks from a million year old book as a basis for a modern world, are the moral decay. Regular, ordinary, everyday people shooting each other and raping each other and stealing from each other are the moral decay of society.
No, it is not POT that is ruining the world.
And I know it's hard to believe, but there are more important things going on in the world than a coupla' kids getting stoned. Besides, can you blame them? Look at this hellhole we live in. Is it such a crime to want to escape it once in a while?
It outrages me everytime I see a nonsensical topic being tossed back and forth between newscasts. But I realize it's only being done in lieu of showing the real news; innocent American soldiers and Iraqis being blown to bits for no reason at all, appendages laying in the debris of battleground, rotting for no good reason. If they showed that stuff on TV instead of Jennifer Aniston's broken love life, I think we'd have a better shot at a revolution.
But there's no telling these days. It's so easy to lose hope.
AND FURTHERMORE! Who cares if it gives you cancer! Everything gives you cancer! I'm sure all of the people who are rollin' up a fatty realize what it's doing to their lungs, just the way those who can't live without a bottle of booze in their fist know what it's doing to their liver. Thanks for all of the ink and breath wasted on the constant reminders! But really, it's unnecessary.
Marc Emery, baby, you've got my support. You are so money and you don't even know it.
perfectly fine | Led Zeppelin
It's been one of those days. My first day off since Tuesday (haha) and I've just been relaxing all day. You know, taking a break from the lunches out and shopping trips. My life seems like a never-ending vacation sometimes...can't complain.
My mom is on vacation for two whole weeks and I am lost in sea of housework! Now I know why I gag a little everytime someone mentions marriage! Yuck! I even baked a pie in order to lure my brother to come over so he could take out the garbage. I am so bad.
I drove off as he was coming down the driveway, recycling bin in hand. "You're a serf!" I yelled, "A serf!"
Hahahhaa.
Work's been kinda crappy as of late, been doing a whole bunch of store duties wrong and making my boss's ears turn red. *sigh* I can't be a people pleaser ALL the time. It's a demanding job.
Sean left for Florida a week ago and I really really really miss him. He was my buddy. But what can you do? (I know! Buy a ticket and go on yet another holiday! Duh!) We used my truck to move him out one night, looked like we were robbin' the place. Good times.
Looking into schools, trying to decide which one to enslave myself to for the next two years. Hopefully one with a good atmosphere and awesome people. Maybe a Salvation Army or coffee shop nearby. And a cowboy or two, strollin' down the street. ...Now I'm getting too idealistic.
My Wedding Crashers-athon is continuing tommorrow night...this makes five. One of my friends works at the movie theater and gave me a Wedding Crashers poster that I got framed at my lovely place of employment. That was a good day.
My brother and his girlfriend and I decided to have an impromptu garage sale next weekend in which I am cleaning out all of the random things I acquired throughout my 20 year life. It's all going, sombreros, beaded curtains, dolls with missing extremities- - -it all goes!
Oh- and I'm gon' be an aunt. Brother and his new chick are p.g. He couldn't even wait 'til the divorce was final. Kids these days.
Aside from the aforementioned, nothing else is new. Day 3 is on its way...
Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.
dreadful | Sheryl Crow
June 1, 2005
Due to the lack of sleep on the flight in combination with too many alcoholic beverages, by the time our plane landed in Zurich at 11 o'clock local time, I was exhausted and sick to my stomach.
In the airport, I searched high and dry for the nearest bathroom. First culture shock: unisex bathrooms. I had zero problems popping a squat next to my fellow group leader, Scott.
We grabbed our bags (mine adorned with a last minute hot pink thong to differentiate between everyone else. Really, how common is a black suitcase on wheels?) and headed to yet another way too air conditioned bus that would drive us an hour away, to Basel, where we were staying.
We arrive, I'm too tired to be impressed and become overly unenthused when the non-English speaking Swiss hotel clerks inform us that our rooms will not be ready until 2 o'clock. I begin making a checklist in between popping complimentary swiss truffles into my grill.
- I am tired, cranky and hungover.
- Contemplating overdosing on free truffles. Stomach ache ensues.
We finally get our rooms and to our dismay, Harley and I found out we would not be rooming together. So we go to our respective floors and:
- Get to my room. Tries to jump out the window after discovering to single size beds pushed together with a huge blanket thrown across it. This is where I sleep?
- Attempt to shower, keyword being ATTEMPT. Now I know why Europeans have hairy armpits...a handheld ONLY showerhead makes it near impossible to shave while getting a sufficient amount of water.
- Shortly thereafter, I move in with Harley and his roomate. This makes 3 people in the makeshift sleeping quarters, Harley and I and David, the kid who sings dirty songs in a dutch accent.
I rested up while Harley aka Mama took a shower. I opened the windows and felt a nice breeze come in. We decided to go out for a little while, exchange our money and grab something to eat. Our hotel was right next to the train station, which had little shops and food stands and a bank inside.
Mama decides he needs to straighten his HURR before we go hit it up Switzerland style. So we tear open the package for the adaptor we bought and attempt to plug it in, every which way. It has like 80 different prongs, none of which match up to the ones in the wall. Finally, we find a suitable connection. He tries to plug in his ultra expensive Chi but to no avail. It appeared that Mama would not be straightening his HURR that day. But he didn't give up that quickly.
Before I knew it, it was nearing 4 o'clock. Thats 2 hours of hair crises. He tried my straightener. He tried sticking his hair between two books. I was becoming beyond infuriated. IT'S HAIR! I wanted to scream. CAN'T WE JUST GO?!
I finally finally finally got Mama to leave the room. We walked outside into beautiful weather and headed towards the bank. It was at that moment that I seemed to have misplaced my ability to speak Swiss.
I don't know what I was thinking that I never bothered to even learn a WORD of Swiss or Dutch or German or French. And if I thought about it, I wished I had used my Italian while in Switzerland, seeing as none of the people there understood English except for the term AMERICAN, which, upon hearing, made them treat you badly. (Sad, but exceptionally true.)
After almost 2 days of nil food, I was feeling like a bottomless pit. Harles and I toured the train station, figuring we were in position to venture off too far on our first day, and I decided on a little middle eastern run Kebap stand. (Kebap is a psuedonym for a Gyro, in Swiss.) I'm not sure the Kebap man spoke Swiss and he definitely didn't speak English. I figured I'd just point at what I wanted.
But he insisted on talking.
It took me close to 10 minutes to get a damn kebap, or whatever its called. It was one of the most frustrating and unnerving events in my life. And he wasn't even sympathetic to my "situation" (being American, that is.) He was mean. We named him the Kebap Nazi.
So I gather up my food, throw some francs his way and peace out. We find a place to sit and eat outside of our hotel. Apparently this too was not such a good idea. A blonde lady with a ginormous braid (stereotype) comes over and starts talking to us like we understand. Harley and I thought it'd be funny to talk back - - -in a made up language - - - to her.
Swiss Lady: BLAH BLAH BLAH LOOK AT MY BRAID BLAH.
Me: Dingle dumbledorf raisin bran triggle-y diggle-y lee dee! *takes HUGE bite of KEBAP*
She throws her hands above her head and walks away.
I am so American. I am evil at my very core.
- Less than 4 hours in the country and I buy a pair of shoes.
We decided to try and get some sleep around 7 p.m. That way maybe we could get into a normal sleep pattern. That wasn't the case.
Stay tuned for Day 3, or, the Art of Pointing.
nostalgic | Pink Floyd
May 31, 2005
After 5 hours on a way-too-air-conditioned bus, we arrive at JFK, 11 days worth of luggage in tow, passports in hand. Harley and I had entertained ourselves for the duration of the busride by doing impressions of ex-Pres, prestigious peanut farmer Jimmy Carter, reading random bumperstickers (who lit the fuse on your tampon?) and reading a gift I got the day before on my birthday, AMERICA by Jon Stewart. Dig the irony.
At JFK we are greeted by 3 floors of escalators, one of my worst phobias (it's right up there with vending machines and cheesesticks). After a teeny-tiny panic attack, I ditch my bags and head for the stairs. Some heavy breathing and asthmatic threat later, I am reaquainted with the group and my bags at the customs gate.
Customs Gate = Legal Rape.
It's not long after we arrive at the terminal that it's time for departure. We took SwissAir which dons the Swiss Symbol on its sides. I kept referring to it as Air911. No one thought it was funny
.
I was seated in the aisle seat next to the bathroom. Initially, I scoffed thinking "what a shitty flight!" but later I would be thankful that the bathroom was sooo close. Next to me, in the window seat that I would happily give an extremity for, was a Romanian man named George that would become my good friend during the 8 hour flight.
I flipped through magazines, sipping wine and occasionally glancing over George's shoulder to see the view. The sun was setting behind us and we were flying into dusky pinkness. I turned my head to look out the other side of the plane and saw that it was already pitch black. Unbelieving, I looked over George's shoulder again and still saw the glowing orange ball slip away into the distance. It still boggles my mind.
Over dinner, George and I began to talk. First about our food, next about our destinations ...and then he told me stories of his life in Romania and how different it is in New York City where he works as a doorman. Over wine, he told me about his children and their lives and asked me where I thought mine might lead to. The stewardess came and took what was left of our food and our empty wine bottles (all six of 'em!) I excused myself as I got up to use the bathroom and it was then I realized, "Damn! I'm drunk!"
When night finally hit, they turned out the lights on the plane and I grabbed up a pillow and a blanket and leaned onto George's shoulder to try and sleep. I drank all the wine hoping it would put me to sleep the way it does on dry land, but to no avail. I was drunk and awake on a plane of sleeping people. Luckily, I wasn't the only one. About 6 other people from my group were having the same problem and we decided that we should throw a party in the back of the plane in celebration of, what else, my birthday!
So the oh-so-trusting stewardess brings us underagers a plethora of mini bottles of alcohol. We popped 6 champagnes (or champagni?) and toasted to the wonder that is me. (And they just met me!) We played a game of virtual Who Wants to be a Millionaire, complete with Regis Philbin speaking Dutch!
Wie Wil Millionaire Zijn? Ik!
Before we knew it, it was morning again. Nightime lasted all of 2 hours.
Sleep: 0
Alcohol: too much
Me: not feelin' so hot.
I nudged George awake so he could get some good shots (he's a photographer in his spare time) as we flew through the Alps. It was amazing. There we were, above the clouds and poking through them were the tips of the Swiss Alps. You could barely tell the difference between the clouds in the distance and the snow covering the jagged rocks of the Alps. Despite my impending hangover and jet lag, I smiled. Just then, a day after my 20th birthday, I saw something that many people never get to see in their whole lives. And it rocked.
sleepy | Duran Duran "what's gonna happen tomorrow"
"...we try not to show how frightened we are..."
rated: PG-13, Parental Guidance suggested.
I've realized that its much easier to make lists of things you want to do, things you should do...than to actually do them.
So much has been going on around here lately and I find myself becoming increasingly numb to it all. I'm losing my direction and focus...ah, what focus? Never came up with one yet. Talk about procrastination...
For a long time now I haven't been able to write poetry the way I used to. I've become a dry well, so to speak. It wasn't until recently I decided that I've just merely switched my creative outlets from a pen and paper to an online journal.
Friends are coming and going, new friends are being made unexpectedly and old friends are moving on. It's a time of change.
I got to meet Amber earlier this week. We spent 3 days together, thrift shopping, antiquing, being moviegoers, hangin' at the DUGOUT. We made s'mores, yelled at kids in the lazy river, got anal raped by a waterslide, watched Amber on Jenny Jones circa 1998, had a breakfast bbq, listened to Blink182 & Social Distortion, stunk at bowling, took pictures inside of Paul Bunyan's crotch. You know, the usual vacation stuff.
I loved her. Very sad to see her go.
There are so many things I need to do. But everything seems so pointless sometimes. I'm getting sick of work, I think I need a new atmosphere. People are getting too close, I'm becoming suffocated.
I'm also beginning to question whether or not I'm a good person. I think real deep down I am, but on the surface I'm smudged just like everyone else. Bitter and jaded.
A big part of me wishes cellphones were never invented. It's just another excuse for the general public to be rude.
I feel like I'm just passing the time, watching it go by. Waiting for something. Always waiting for something.
Maybe one day I'll stop waiting and start living.
R.I.P Sal, until we meet again... 08.02.05
frustrated | "adam's song"
I wanted to share this piece of wisdom from Kathleen here:
Comment from: Kathlyna22
i saw this and thought of you...
"Women are like apples on trees.
The best ones are at the top of the tree.
Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because
they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead,
they just take the rotten apples from the ground that
aren't as good, but easy.......
The apples at the top think something is wrong with
them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have
to wait for the right man to come along, the one who's
brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the
tree."
To Marissa, a tip top apple
Kathleen
review-y | "existentialism on prom night"
My mother and I went to go see Must Love Dogs tonight. It was really different,to say the least, but cute nonetheless. It was your average chick flick, complete with John Cusack, who, by the way, graduated from his usual swingin' guy in his 30s movies to a forty-something lead hunk in a romantacom. (Like that word? I just coined it.)
I don't know when I became totally enthralled with movies, but it happened suddenly. After Wedding Crashers it's all been downhill from there. I've seen 3 different movies in the past week. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was sandwhiched between seeing Wedding Crashers umpteen times and Must Love Dogs.
Even the previews have been fantastic! Lookout out for Vince Vaughn's (orgasm) new movie Thumbsucker, where he plays a teacher to a young boy who has a bad case of ADD...And in speaking of totally hot men (Vince Vaughn) Paul Reiser has a new movie coming out! (I'm so being serious right now, the guy is a great lookin' jew!) And lest we forget the 4th Harry Potter is due in November and Tim Burton's The Corpse Bride in early fall. (moregasm.)
Back to the feature presentation...
Diane Lane played her usual role, the its-all-becoming-way-too-familiar harried divorcee' on her way to hagdom. Don't get me wrong, she plays the role well, (she played basically the same part in Under the Tuscan Sun although the setting was drastically more European, but I digress) it's just that seeing this figure of a forty-something woman turned suddenly alone/midlife crisis after her unfaithful husband inevitably leaves her for a younger woman, is becoming a bit unnerving.
Are all women destined to marry womanizers who like to trade-in the old for the newer model?
God, it's too sad to even think about.
And of course, (WARNING! SPOILER!) the frail and cynical heroine gets her guy...because, well let's face it, it's the movies. And in the movies, the girl always gets the guy.
The irony here is obvious. People are sucked into movies because of the distinct parallels of the big screen and real life, watching people experience the pain of loss through divorce and the always less than perfect and awkward first dates, but in the movies, it will inevitably work out. And in real life, we have no way of knowing.
Best line from the movie:
There is a guy out there for you who will appreciate all you have to offer.
musings and ruminations of a quirky little brunette who waxes poetic and her legs.