Wishful Thinking...

My new little passtime is to browse online for apartments and daydream about the hazy future that involves me NOT living in my parents' house. Since I have no concrete time frame as to when this is going to actually happen, I've decided to distract myself by not only shopping for apartments, but also miscellaneous art, music, movies, books, and furniture that will reside in my fictional new apartment. I made the mistake of mentioning this hobby to my mother last week. Bad idea. Now, every time I go online to check my email (or blog) I get a snide, "shopping for overpriced apartments again?" when she walks by. It's funny, because up until that point, I had no idea it would bother her for me to move out... in fact, I figured she was just counting down the days. Meanwhile, with each passing day, my family annoys ME more and more... and more... and more..

Oooohhh... this print will totally go great in the kitchen, right over the coffee machine. When I have my own kitchen. And my own coffee machine...

Dream Journal

Last night I had the pregnant dream again.

This is the most absolutely twisted dream... and I keep having it. In my dream, I look down and all of the sudden I'm pregnant - like SUPER pregnant, and have no idea what's going on. All I know is that it needs to be gone, and it needs to be gone NOW. Even in my dream, I'm fully aware that there's no way I could actually physically BE pregnant, because I haven't had anything close to intimate contact in over 6 months [both in dream life and real life... and by saying 6 months, I'm being nice]. Then, my friend Michelle (who is pregnant in real life, and is as happy as a pig in shit to be that way) shows up and explains to me that it's too late to get rid of it, and I'm just going to have to deal ... I realize my life is completely over and that somehow I've ruined it - without actually having done anything 'wrong' to begin with - and I start to hyperventilate... and then I wake up. I grope myself; flat (relatively) stomach. Not pregnant. Thank God. And then I'm freaked out for the rest of the day.

Of course, after that I had a dream that my cat was living in technicolor. She shed her tabby brown color and became black, then charcoal... then blue and red... then gray and pink. Gray and pink was a good look for her.

If I knew more about dream analysis, would I feel better or worse about my reoccuring nightmare?

Eavesdroppers

After living in Manhattan for a year (which was more than long enough, thank you very much) I would just like to say that I can not appreciate this website enough. The incredible stupidity that humans are capable of never ceases to amaze me.

Overheard In New York

It's just funny. And sad. And very frightening...

Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons

"...when a gnarled old man shuffled from table to table selling roses, I bought one, thinking that life was like a flower - showy and colorful and indescribably delicate, and even if aphids or worms or mildew destroyed it, still couldn't change the fact that it had been a flower..."

~Lorna Landvik

Pet Peeve # 6,3491

I hate it when people [90% of the time they're men] tell me to "smile". I know I've had this conversation with someone, but I feel the need to reinforce how much I really, seriously hate it.
A) Who the hell are you?
B) Don't tell me what to do.
C) How do you know that what's going on in my head or life right now is worth smiling about? Maybe I'm thinking about a parking ticket, or the death of a family member... or how BAD you SMELL. Maybe my cat has rabies.
D) People who walk around smiling all the time for no reason either look mildly disabled, or like they're WAY over-medicated. Ever read the bumper sticker that says, "I smile because I have no idea what's going on."? No one wants to be that guy.

I am not a particularly morose person. While I'm prone to moodiness and sarcasm, I'm no Debbie Downer... and generally speaking, I try to be pretty upbeat. At least, in public. In fact, when I used to waitress, I was often asked how I managed to be so perky or energetic all the time. [I was, not to toot my own horn, a kickass waitress.] So, new rule: if you ever tell me to smile when I'm not, I'm going to rip your heart out and feed it to you. Okay?

[insert big, toothy smile here]

QOTD 7/21/05

Never say there is nothing beautiful in the world any more.
There is always something to make you wonder, in the shape
of a leaf, the trembling of a tree.
--Albert Schweitzer (1875-1965)

I'm No Carrie

It's funny... I never used to love Sex and the City, but it's definitely grown on me. I watch it now [sanitized repeats on TBS] and think 'they are SO right'. Maybe as my single girlfriends and I get older (and remain single) it becomes more relevant. Who knows? What I do know is that I find it very ironic that my ex-boyfriend bought me the final season on DVD for my 23rd birthday. At the time, I wasn't much of a fan... and also found it to be an extremely lame birthday present. When we broke up, it was the first thing I gave away.

Along that vein... SO ready for "Wedding Season" to be over already. I'm going to OD on wedding-ness.

I Hate Britney Spears

Britney Spears is not pregnant with twins, she's just a fat slob. Can we drop the subject about her useless existence and talk about something that MATTERS for 5 minutes? War, famine, AIDS, the appointment of a new Supreme Court Justice, biases in the media, global warming...? Maybe if we stopped feeding into celebrity psychoses and their twisted need to be loved, they'd stop going all freakin' insane and get the hell out of the media.

Bloggerchicks

Verdict is in: Lucky Spinster is fabulous. Check it out.

So is This Girl. It's an extremely well-written blog, and a good word of warning. I agree with LS - The NYTimes should be ashamed.

I've had a really rough, unexpected 24 hours. More on that later.

QATD 7/15/05

He who can no longer pause to wonder and stand
rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are
closed.

~Albert Einstein

I'm an Audioslave addict

Be Yourself


Someone falls to pieces
Sleeping all alone, someone kills the pain
Spinning in the silence
She finally drifts away
Someone gets excited in a chapel yard
And catches a bouquet
Another lays a dozen
White roses on a grave

To be yourself is all that you can do
To be yourself is all that you can do

Someone finds salvation in everyone
And another only pain
Someone tries to hide themself
Down inside himself he prays
Someone swears his true love until the end of time
Another runs away
Separate or united
Healthy or insane

To be yourself is all that you can do
To be yourself is all that you can do
To be yourself is all that you can do
To be yourself is all that you can do

Even when you've paid enough
Benn put upon or been held up
With every single memory of
the good or bad, faces of luck
Don't lose any sleep tonight
I'm sure everything will end up alright
You may win or lose

But to be yourself is all that you can do
To be yourself is all that you can do...

Breeders

It's 9:20am. There is a child screaming its head off in my office. I am never, ever having children. Someone needs to muzzle it or duct tape its mouth shut or something - just MAKE IT SHUT UP AND GET IT AWAY FROM ME!

Pacifist on the Roof

Why do I have so many high-maintenence friends? And why can't they cut me some f---ing SLACK once in a while? How is it that, in my attempt to extend friendship and kindness, I get thoroughly and constantly CRAPPED on by people? I'm starting to understand why postal workers go... well... postal.

Last Time I Did Not Receive A Piece...

Why do random work events (ie: the "ice cream social" today) remind me an awful lot of that scene from Office Space where Milton doesn't get any birthday cake?

BlogPower

I just found about 5 different "Girl Power" blogs while clicking through Waiter Rant (mostly because I lack the attention to actually READ posts today... I need reading glasses) and thought I would share them with you. Not sure how I feel about The Ass Chronicles or Lipstick Graffiti yet (the former being a little shallow and the latter... strange), but the other two look like they're worth 5 minutes...

Beatrice Petty

Lucky Spinster

PS - Casey and Dan threw their bass player out of the band recently - a Long Story Short coupe, if you will. Hence... they need a new name. If I win the 'Name Contest' I get a free shot at the gig tonight. Anyone have any suggestions...???

Like Gumby

I hit the 2-mile mark last night! Yes, you read that right - I ran 2 solid 10-minute miles. And actually, as Casey pointed out, in sheer distance I went about 4. I won't bore you with the math, but I'm really impressed by myself. For the girl whose mantra has been "I don't run unless I'm being chased" since... birth... this is a big deal. The race is on July 23, so that gives me 12 days to be able to go 5k (about 3.2 miles for those of us non-metric folks). Keep in mind, my ability to go 2 miles is SOLEY on a treadmill... I'm probably going to drop dead outside in the 90 degree heat. But maybe not. I've never felt this way about my body before; like it can handle what I throw at it. The idea that I can push myself and not break is a novel one. All my life, I've felt... infinitely breakable. These days, I feel a little more... bendable...

That's Why They're The Writers

"Love isn't something you feel - it's something you do. And if the person you're with doesn't want it... save it for someone who does."

~ 6 Feet Under

Sister Cities

I feel like I really need to say some things about the attacks on London yesterday. It was my home for 5 months... the Edgeware Road Tube stop? a 10 minute walk from my apartment. London was (and still is) a magical city... my father described it when he visited as "like Disney World without those stupid rides". The history, the culture and the people were like nothing I have ever experienced before or since, and every single day I am glad that I had the opportunity to be there.

It was also where I was the day the World Trade Centers were demolished. I stood on the bank of the River Thames on a bright, sunny day - exactly like the one in Manhattan, London's "sister city" - and watched the tv footage. I was miles and miles away from my friends and family, and I looked around in awe as the British continued on about their daily lives. British television took breaks for commercials. Public transportation continued to run. The world around me continued, while 5 hours away, it stopped.

This is the exact same viewpoint that we Americans, "safe" at home, have on the tragedy across the pond. Our instinct was to be critical of European insensitivity after 9/11, yet here they are, now experiencing the same horror. I'm not sure what my point is here... just that now we get a chance to see what they saw. YOU get to see 9/11 through MY eyes. The loss of life in sheer numbers might have been greater, but proportionately it's very close.

The single, most important thing I remember from that experience was the kindness, gallantry and graciousness I felt extended towards me - an American living in London - by the locals. I suppose my sincere hope is that those of us here remember the pain we felt and extend the same courtesy to the British suffering their own personal tragedies here on American soil.


Okay, now I feel better. That's about as "patriotic" as I get.

Watch Those Lbs Melt!

Me: what the hell would I do without this calendar
Me: it looks like a war zone
Me: when did I get a life?
Casey: when you lost the best 200 lbs you ever lost

(I informed her that it was closer to 250lbs)

QOTD 7/8/05

This morning's quotes:


Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try
to love the questions themselves. Live the questions now.
Perhaps you will find them gradually, without noticing it,
live along some distant day into the answer.
- Rainer Maria Rilke


True, we love life, not because we are used to living, but
because we are used to loving. There is always some madness
in love, but there is also always some reason in madness.
- Friedrich Nietzsche


I think I'm going to have a lot to post about today...

To Post or Not To Post

So I'm having an inner debate. I wrote a lot (okay, a little) in a journal during my vacation - mostly while sitting bored in the airport or stuck on the plane. I ended up having hours and hours to kill. Should I post my "travel log"? Do all 3 of my "loyal readers" find that it may be worth reading? If so, should I post part or all of it? Comments, thoughts, suggestions? I guess it all depends on how bored I get at work in the next few days.

I will tell you this:
While I was on vacation, my father hit my 3 month old car with the lawn mower. THE LAWNMOWER. HE HIT MY CAR WITH HIS STUPID LAWN MOWER!!! The one person on the planet who probably understands my psychoses the best and knows EXACTLY what my reaction would be, thought it was a good idea to go anywhere withing a 1-foot radius of my new car with his lawnmower. How much do I want to kill him right now?