I'd rather die.

I woke up this morning feeling like I could conquer the world.

I started typing away on what I though was going to be the best journal entry ever...you know the kind, the ones where the words just flow together, creating this literary art and I had gotten really far...it was about home, the invisible state of mind and stories about growing up in Utica and travelling in Switzerland.

And now, its gone.

By some swift, fluid motion. A quick accident. It's gone.

I am not going to conquer the world.

I am going back to bed and mourning the loss of my sanity.

These Days

Today I did something I've never done before.

I called into work.

Was I really sick? It's debateable. The way I felt a couple of days before would make it seems like yes, I was actually an ill girl. But truth is, I felt a little better today and am sure if it wasn't so freaking hot out at night I would've been able to sleep, thus get up for work in the morning. But alas, central air does nothing for me.

I don't how I got sick. It could quite possibly be the onset of mono (thanks Tracy! greatest friend ever!) or a bad allergy to the mosquito bites all over my back or just some third-world summer flu. In any case, it sucked.

Between all the running around I've been doing the last week, I must say it is nice to have a day off.  It all started last Thursday...

Thursday turned out to be the greatest day off ever. I had plans to go to Syracuse for the day because I had to pick up Steph (!!!!!) at the airport that night. So my friend Steve and I decided to hit it up beach style. We went and laid out in the sand, waiting for tancer to implant itself in our baking skin, then we swam, laid in the sand some more and then went to eat. Steve and I try to do this three times a summer. It's our thing.

After we ate we went to the amusement park where proceeded to spend about $15 in quarters on Ski-Ball! Did I ever mention I was on Varsity Ski-Ball in high school? I've got the skills. We won over 300 tickets (which evens out to $3.00, respectively) and got to pick out cool prizes. I got a train whistle and a Dino Land setup that comes with little dinosaur figures and rocks and trees and stuff. So cool. Then we thought it might be fun to go on rides. So, for only $14.50, you too can ride two rides! Our choice? The Galaxy! The scariest roller coaster ever! No, it's not the HUGE drops or the corkscrew turns (or lack thereof) that makes this a helluva ride. It's the fact that it's ancient and probably has only one maintenance date a year. The other ride we chose was the "scary" kiddie ride. You know the one. Every amusement park has one. You go in the little train and choo-choo your way through Laughland. So we went on it. And we laughed and laughed at the stuff that used to be scary when we were 8. When all of a sudden...BAM! out of nowhere! Our little car does a quick turn and headlights flash in your face and a car alarm goes off! I don't remember that as a child...good thing I took my Bayer that morning. Otherwise I'm sure I would've had a heart attack.

After that we drove out to Syracuse to go to some record store opening and I met a few of his friends. There was this one I thought was extremely attractive and a little gay, but hey! Obviously that doesn't stop me! I was all flirty-flirty until I found out how old he was.

Smells like statutory rape.

Finally it was time to go pick up Steph, so Steve and I hugged goodbye and I drove to the airport. Don't know if I've ever mentioned it on here, but one of my favorite places in the world to be is in an airport. Her plane was delayed a bit, so I walked around and learned how to pilot an airplane.

I walked to the waiting area near her gate and stod against a wall. I'd look over at all the different people and wondered who they were waiting for. Together we all stood just collectively in anticipation of the hugs and stories and company we were in for.

Her flight was later than even the delay expected, so I sat down next to a nice lady who smiled at me. I was getting tired so I closed my eyes for a while and thought about flying and travelling and how much I love it. I remembered my last few times in airports...the ones in Florida where I cried the whole to the gate and the next time where I kissed him goodbye outside for the last time...the one in New York City with the giant escalators I refused to ride and the one in Switzerland where I was drunk and suggested we have a rave on the monorail and where I saw a real life giant.

I thought about my suitcase and how it was filled with bottles of wine I smuggled from Italy and how I carried my emergency clubbing clothes and white heels with me on my carry-on just in case of, well, a clubbing emergency.

I began to miss everywhere I'd been. And everyone I was there with. All the people I met and the stamps on my passport. I missed Italy and Switzerland and Florida and California...I missed George from Romania and the lady from London and the mean kebap man from the grocery store in Basel. I missed spaghetti in Florida with a boy whose gone and shopping trips with Stephanie when I'd buy too many shoes.

When I opened my eyes again, the plane was unboarding and little by little I began to see who everyone was waiting for. The girl across from me cried as her boyfriend picked her up and hugged her. The grandparents near the gate were thrilled to meet their new grandson for the first time. The husband took the bagsfrom his wife as they walked hand in hand down the stairs. The two friends reunited.

I was so happy to see her. It had been too long and daily phone calls didn't quite cut it anymore. Everytime we'd talk, I'd hear her voice shake as she'd say she wanted to come home. Now she was home.

 

Good Story.

I'm glad there's only 45 more minutes left in this day. Could it have been anymore shittier? (I'm sure it could've, but allow me for this one time to digress.)

I started the day off by going to pay my very first parking ticket. Good story.

The other night I thought it'd be fun to visit a friend I hadn't seen in a long time. This friend at some point over the duration of our friendship became a sort of "cuddle buddy," if you will. So I park my car on the street and meet him at the door. We hugged for awhile and it was nice. It was a long time since I was in those arms. We hung around for awhile, watched a movie (that I slept through) and yadda yadda yadda... (you all know what those yadda's mean, don't make me explain. I might get TOS'd.) And halfway through we decided, well, maybe we've outgrown this and...*gasp* just be friends. Fine by me. We fell asleep for a little while and when I awoke it was almost daylight. So I searched in the dark for my clothes, put on my shoes and said goodbye before I left. And as I walked to my car, I noticed a little white envelope blowing in the early morning air.

I didn't even open it.

It's like I was being summoned for wanting to get laid.

But wait---it gets better!

When I did open it the next day, I noticed it said "Personal Appearance Required." Great. I remember wondering if I could pay my Old Navy bill there, too.

The court was in the town I parked illegally in. And I didn't know where it was. So I called Tracy, seeing as how she lives there and all, to come find it with me. Wouldn't you know...as we drove there, it all looked really familiar...I think the conversation went a little like this:

Tracy: Take the right before the light.

Me: Why? That's the street I was parked on...how'd you know?

Tracy: Because that's the courthouse.

Both: (dumbfounded silence)

Tracy: You parked after 2 a.m. in front of the courthouse? Why didn't you just get on your knees and beg for a parking ticket?

Me: I can't believe I'm paying $20 for could've been sex.

It's like I'm paying for a layaway lay.

So I go in and I pay. End of story.

We go to lunch before finishing my errands. I give her the keys to my car because I am utterly exhausted of driving. I hate it. So she's driving me in my car to go pick up my dry cleaning. Good story.

I went shopping last Saturday (as if I didn't shop enough on my vacation) and mosied my darling little self into the Gap. Don't know if it's happening in a Gap near you, but there was a GINORMOUS clearance rack that I raped and pillaged. I picked out this fabulous dress and proceeded to bring that, amongst other heaven sent marked down items, into the dressing room. First things first, I strip down to my skiv skivs and slide the dress over my head. Just as I'm looking around for a zipper or some other gadget that will fasten in order to cover my breasts, I notice a tag that reads "Damaged Merchandise: Extra 40% off!"

Me: (thinking to myself) What the hell is damaged?

I find the zipper. I zip it up. I do a little twirl. I fall in love.

I reread the tag. "Damaged Zipper."

Me: *scoff*! No it's not! It zipped fine!

I try to unzip it. It will not unzip. I tug and pull and begin to panic. I flip my head over and reach my arms out and try to pull it over my head. Still stuck.

By now I'm turning red and getting really hot. If only I had my cellphone...I would've called Fashion Emergency.

By some grace of an unseen outside force, I got myself unstuck. I let out a relieved sigh. And a pout because I knew that that was the only dress they had left in my size. I did some mental math a figured that the dress was on sale for $29.99 from $72.50. Plus the extra 40% off would make it like $18.00-ish. And that I could always take it to the cleaners to get the zipper fixed. So I bought it.

I bring it to the cleaners and proceed to have small talk with the owner while I was in line. "Just curious," he asks, "what do you have there?"

Giddy to show off my new dress I rip it out of the bag and put it up to me and twirl. "Isn't it fabulous? I got it like a million percent off!"

"Are you getting it cleaned?"

"No, it actually has a broken zipper...see, that's how I got so much off for it."

"I hate to tell you this, but you'll probably be paying alot for the zipper."

"Like how much?"

"$30."

So I essentially was paying more than the original sale price for the stupid dress, which, oddly enough, I didn't think was so pretty anymore.

On the way home we saw an ice cream truck. On the side it read, "Huff Ice Cream." So I did.

I dropped her off and went to work for my second day as Front End Supervisor, which is alot better than being the Rear End Supervisor, no?

My duties as FES:

- I get keys.

- I can initial my name in the FES spots on paperwork.

- I can do returns.

- I can take shit from relentlessly crabby customers.

- I have to close registers.

- I have to print reports.

- I have to clean the 5 rows of floral, which are always a disaster. While watching register to make sure I have no customers.

- I have to make the closing announcements.

Doesn't seem too bad, right? Wrong. What I didn't know about this shady promotion was A.) I cannot leave up front. B.) It's nearly impossible to finish floral since there is always one lingering customer being indecisive over which piece of candy she wants to clog her artery, C.) I hate using the P.A.

So three times a night, I have to announce:

"Attention Michaels shoppers, the time is now (8:45, 8:50, 8:55)and we will be closing in (15, 10, 5) minutes. Please make your final selection and bring it up front where registers (even though there's only one) are still available. We will reopen tomorrow morning for your shopping convenience and as always, thank you for shopping at Michaels."

This is where I'd usually type *slits wrists* but since I have no health insurance anymore, I can't be tinkering around with a little idea called suicide.

So after work, my frustrations began getting the best of me and as I pushed away tears, I drove to Tracy's work, sniffling and feeling ultra self pity. I even brought a date so I wouldn't have to sit alone. Meet Billy Fucillo. I doubt you non-New Yorkers know of the wonder that is Billy Fucillo. He's a C-list car dealer in the area who finds it inherently necessary to advertise during every type of show on every different network. He even has his own catch phrase. A big ol' obnoxious IT'S YUUUUUUUGE! So yeah, anyway, he was my date. Pathetic, huh?

So I get there and find Tracy and proceed to be a total girl (which I hate) about everything.

Tracy: What's wrong?

Me: ...Nothing.

Enter: Tears.

I get up and leave and walk out to my car where I cry for the next half hour.

I cried because I hate my job that I used to love.

I cried because I have no degree.

I cried because Erin is moving and Tracy is leaving and Stephanie is never coming back.

I cried because the f-ing cheese stands alone.

I cried because every girl I know can find a million guys to date her and I can't even find one.

I cried because a boy in the resteraunt reminded me of someone whose memory haunts me.

I cried because I can't move to Rochester to work in the thrift store, because I have no car and no roommate and no money.

I cried because I can't blame crying on the PMS I had a week and a half ago.

I cried because Switzerland isn't outside of my door.

I hate being a girl sometimes. I hate being so emotional and at times feeling utterly helpless. If someone were to jump out and attack me what the hell would I do? I certainly can't defend myself, unless of course, I am armed with a pair of spiked heels. But in those rare scenarios when I'm not, I'm totally useless.

I feel totally stuck, though a different stuck from the day in the dressing room at the Gap. This is a bigger stuck.

At least it's a new day.

More than just hot cocoa and cheese.

Being back here, it's hard to believe I was ever really away. It all seems unfathomable. Maybe when those pictures get developed I'll believe it.

Part of me really misses it.

It was weird. Since I was away from everything familiar and thrown into this whole different way of life, many things that were once important to me took the backseat. My mind was at ease and I was no longer thinking of all the things that made me feel shitty. I had no concept of time. I was cellularly single for the first time in 2 years. And I could say honestly, save for Tracy, that there isn't one person that I felt the urge to talk to. And up until the last leg of the trip, there wasn't one thing I missed.

I threw myself right into the newness of it all and I reveled in it. In Switzerland there was the huge language barrier but that didn't stop me. I would go out in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep and walk around, soaking it all in. I wasn't worried about being alone of getting lost, I felt safe there, I felt home. In the mornings, Harley and I would walk down the street to get some fruit for breakfast at the grocery store and then hop a train with every intention of getting lost. We got lost in some of the most beautiful places. My philosophy on getting back was hopping the next train. I'm suprised we didn't end up in France.

I was different there. I was really happy and carefree. Harley said he had never seen me so happy. I felt great! There was not one thing that could ruin my days there. I took it as it came and I went with it. Each day would hold a new adventure for me and I was more than willing to embrace its spontaneity. I was meeting new people within the group, getting closer to Harley (who is affectionatelt referred to as "mama") and living life outside the box.

I've decided that I will work to travel. I want to see everywhere. I want to meet everyone.

My favorite souvenir from the trip is undoubtedly my passport. It's stamped. It's getting filled. I can't wait until every page is stamped.

Graduation Constipation.

The pressures of trying to decide is beginning to bog me down.

And while I was away, I recieved a lovely letter from the school in the mail. After much internal debate, I've decided to tell you all the truth instead of hiding it.

(Editted and reformatted so it's not too boring)

Dear Marissa,

You didn't graduate. You need a three credit elective.

Love,

The school who loves screwing people over. XOXO

 

Initially I wasn't too mad. I figured I'm probably staying around here through the summer since I was promoted at work, so I started looking for a class to take over the summer. I went through the whole list and only found one. American Literature. (Can you believe it? It's like the only English class I didn't take.) Then I see it's meeting time. Tuesday and Thursday nights. Yeah, that sounds great. Let me go to work at 5 and somehow manage to get to the school at 6-8:30 for this class and back to work by 9:30 to punch out...hopefully they don't notice I'm gone. Besides, when I took another glance at this class I noticed it already started. 3 weeks ago.

Moving on.

They also said I can take it somewhere else and transfer it back upon completion. Knowing the school that loves to screw people they probably would reject my credits from the 12 step program.

 

So I am degree-less. And slowly falling into all the bad habits I encompassed before I left.

I wrote an e-mail to one of my friends today and part of it is worth posting here:

...I've been so back and forth these couple of days since I've been back...happy one minute, sad the next. I wish I would just pick one mood and stick with it. I've been trying to keep my mind off of things and my chin up, though it gets a little hard sometimes. I'm still trying to decide what the hell to do this fall...go back to school, move to CA or to Rochester...or stay here. I don't know what it really is that I want. I sometimes have these visions of myself in the future and what it is I would like to do and the type of setting I'd like to be in. I want flea markets and open air markets and mom & pop owned shops, low crime, stable weather and a shoe store around thecorner. A small apartment for myself with lots of closet space, internet connection and friendly neighbors. And, if it's not asking too much, someone to share all of that with.

 

I guess that's what they call it dreaming.

 

La Dolce Vita

So, yes...I am back home :)

 

I am promising pictures once I get them developed and onto a cd...I took over 250! And 5 rolls ontop of the Swiss Alps!

I kept a journal of everyday there and will post them along with the pictures in hopefully a week or so.

The trip was amazing...I saw things that most people never get to see in a lifetime. I didn't think I'd like Switzerland as much as I did and to be honest, I would've paid the $2200 just to go there. The 8 hour drive into the Tuscan region of Italy was to die for, just miles and miles of lush green land and farms and mountainsides, with the Swiss Alps still visible behind us (those things are ginormous!) Florence and Rome were both a bit on the ghetto side, that is, dirty streets with flooded with gypsies and pickpocketers (yes, they do exist and I have living proof.) Needless to say, I was a bit disappointed upon arrival, afterall it was the part of Italy they don't show in books. (Shitaly is more like it.) But after a few hours and witnessing things I have studied all my life in school (Michelangelo's The David, the Colosseo, St. Peter's Basilica), I forgave and forgot the crappy wrapping to an otherwise beautiful gift.

By the end of the trip, I was no doubt ready and actually looking forward to coming home. Who woulda thunk it? It's like the say, it's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. Although I kind of like to think that if I had to, I could easily live in both. Afterall, my Italian speaking skills were so stellar that I gave an Italian lesson over the microphone on the busride in. And alot of the kids from the group would try to hang around me when we went out so I could do all the talking. ...I even got hit on many-a time and flirted back in Italian. It certainly was the sweet life.

Now that I'm back and stunningly refreshed...and suprisingly sound and actually happy, for that matter, I am going through the decision making process of what to do next. I'm contemplating another 2 year school OR a big move. Two opportunities arose while I was away and I'm not so sure I want to let them slip away without giving them a try.

Prospect 1: My uncle bought a thrift store in Rochester (about 3 hours away) and needs someone to run it. Hm. Imagine that? I think I hear a knock...

Prospect 2: I don't know if any of you recall the time I spent last summer working with my aunt in California. (And for those of you who don't recall, I spent last summer working with my aunt in California.) Anyhow, since one of my major goals in life is to run an independantly owned business, I thought there's no better way to learn how than to witness it hands on. She's getting tired of running it by herself and would also like to open another different type of business on the side, but she can't really find the time or help she needs so...I'll take one for the team. Of course you can count on me to move California for the summer, sheesh.

But wait! Don't walk away now! There's more!

I got back Friday night, so Saturday morning I stopped into work to see what everyone was up to and wouldn't you know, by the alignment of the planets, things were going my way. Apparently they promoted me while I was away. Look out, Marissa's a supervisor!

Oh, and one last thing. If after all of this I still decide to stay home and maybe go to school, I won't be too lonely. It's pretty definite Stephanie is coming home :) :) :) !!!!!!!!!! And guess who she's living with!

We don't need no stinkin' men!

It's really nice to be back. This trip was good for me. My outlook has changed a little bit for the better and I am beginning to realize that things do have a way of working out and that most of life is dependant on a state of mind. I'm going to try to keep my chin up for a while and see the things I've been missing out on.

I'm also making plans for a trip next summer with Anthony. Lookout Russia! We are boarding the Trans-Siberian railroad! Next stop, Babushka!

If not, we'll just be a coupla' blokes in London. Tut Tut!

May 30th/31st - Travel days. The busride to NYC wasn't bad, only took 4.5 hours however, I am reassured of why I would NEVER go there. Ever. I don't see the appeal of the Big Crapple. We get on our plane and for the next 7.5 hours, I sat next to a sweet old Romanian man named George, who kept me entertained with stories about his life. After he fell asleep, I proceeded to get a little drunk on the airplane. And by a little I mean alot. We landed in Zurich, my head aching and ass dragging from the lack of sleep. An hour busride later and we were at the hotel in Basel, where we stayed for 3 nights.

I got to my room and took a shower ASAP. My supposed-to-be roomate was at a class, so I had it all to myself. When I stepped in the shower I had my first taste of culture shock...the shower head was ONLY handheld, making it near impossible to wash anything, let alone shave. Now I know why those Europeans have hairy pits. (Although I'm American and I have them, too.) After my shower I headed down to Harley's room and after checking out his fully loaded bathroom (fully loaded meaning a showerhead that was actually attached to the wall), I moved in. That's right, three people to one twin sized bed. This was going to be a fun night.

More to come.   :)