In Case You're Ready to Go...

How to Leave the Planet

1. Phone NASA. Their phone number is (713) 483-3111. Explain that it's very important that you get away as soon as possible.
2. If they do not cooperate, phone any friend you may have in the White House - (202) 456-1414 - to have a word on your behalf with the guy at NASA.
3. If you don't have any friends in the White House, phone the Kremlin (ask the oversease operator for 0107-095-295-9051). They don't have any friends there either (at least none to speak of), but they do seem to have a little influence, so you may as well try.
4. If that also fails, phone the Pope for guidance. His telephone number is 011-39-6-6982, and I gather his switchboard is infallible.
5. If all these attempts fail, flag down a passing flying saucer and explain that it's vitally important you get away before your phone bill arrives.

~Douglas Adams, Intro to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Of A Revolution

..and I said 'Johnny whatcha doing tonight?'
he looked at me with a face full of fright
and I said 'how about a revolution?'
and he said 'right'...

Don't mind me, I went to an OAR show last night. Definitely felt old - don't these college kids today know that OAR is my generation, not theirs? Casey and I agreed that OAR beats Phish and Trey Anastasio, hands down, any day. I'll take 17 year olds acting stupid over cokeheads asking to borrow my car keys to bump lines any day of the week...

A Healthy Dose of Feminism

If you have knowledge, let others light their candles in it.
--Margaret Fuller, Feminist and poet

Cautious, careful people always casting about to preserve
their reputation or social standards never can bring about
reform. Those who are really in earnest are willing to be
anything or nothing in the world's estimation, and publicly
and privately, in season and out, avow their sympathies
with despised ideas and their advocates, and bear the
consequences.
--Susan B. Anthony, Abolitionist, Suffragist

Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations.
I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their
beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead.
--Louisa May Alcott, Author of "Little Women"

Pre-Coffee Musings

1 - Why is there so much more traffifc on Thursday mornings than the rest of the week?

2 - Why is Matthew McConaughey the sexiest man alive? I'm sorry, but I do not agree. I can pick 5 right of the top of my head that beat him out, hands down. 5 non-Texan, non-Republican sexier men...

Link Myself

Is it obnoxious to link to my own posts? Because there's this one and this one that I just found today while reading (yes, I am so bored that I'm reading my own blog) that are really kind of funny...

Sidebar: Could it please stop raining for 10 minutes so that I can get to my car without getting DRENCHED?

Milestones...

Today is my 1-year anniversary of freedom. Singlehood. Dumped-ness. Whatever you want to call it. The point is, a year ago today was the day I thought my life is over. [Drama queen, I know.] I don't really feel like re-living the humiliation while providing a play-by-play (and considering my penchant for self-flaggelation, I'm going to take this as a positive improvement over my previous state) but suffice it to say that it was bad. The good news is, it's finally starting to feel like that night was a really bad dream... one of those dreams that just takes a while to shake off. In my case, it apparently took the better part of a year... but hey, who's counting?

We'll All Float On...

For the record, I know I haven't been doing much actual writing lately... it's been a lot of quotes and whatnot. Rest assured that my brain hasn't shut off - I've still got lots and lots of ideas swimming around in my head (especially right now, fresh from an almost-3-mile run) that I'd like to talk about, I'm just having trouble capturing and tacking them down on paper when I actually have the time to do so.

I will stop a moment and say this (but bear with me, because I don't know if I'll articulate it in a way that makes much sense): Lately I've been feeling... alive again. In the last few months, the parts of me that felt alternately crushed, sad, dead, and numb seem to have come back with that feeling of pins and needles, like when your foot falls asleep and then wakes back up. I feel like this huge weight that I've been lugging around that I didn't know how to get rid of seems to have evaporated, and I'm feeling much lighter. The only phrase that comes to mind when I try to describe what I've been experiencing is the name of a book by Milan Kundera - The Unbearable Lightness of Being...

Another Song to Live By

Maybe I've been the problem,
maybe I'm the one to blame
But even when I turn it off and play myself,
the outcome feels the same
I've been thinkin maybe I've been partly cloudy,
maybe I'm the chance of rain
Maybe I'm overcast,
and maybe all my luck's washed down the drain

I've been thinking 'bout everyone,
everyone you look so lonely

But when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars I see someone else

When I look at the stars,
the stars, I feel like myself

Stars lookin' at our planet watching entropy and pain
And maybe start to wonder
how the chaos in our lives could pass as sane
I've been thinking bout the meaning of resistance,
of a hope beyond my own
And suddenly the infinite and penitent
begin to look like home.

I've been thinking bout everyone,
everyone you look so empty

But when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars I see someone else

When I look at the stars,
the stars, I feel like myself

everyone, everyone you feel so lonely
everyone, yeah everyone you feel so empty

When I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars I feel like myself

When I look at the stars, the stars
I see someone...

~ Switchfoot, Stars

What Is It Good For?

Of all the enemies to public liberty war is, perhaps, the
most to be dreaded because it comprises and develops the
germ of every other. War is the parent of armies; from these
proceed debts and taxes...known instruments for bringing
the many under the domination of the few. . . No nation
could preserve its freedom in the midst of continual
warfare.
--James Madison, Political Observations, 1795

It's Quote Time!

One needs something to believe in, something for which one
can have whole-hearted enthusiasm. One needs to feel that
one's life has meaning, that one is needed in this world.
--Hannah Senesh


If you were all alone in the universe with no one to talk
to, no one with which to share the beauty of the stars, to
laugh with, to touch, what would be your purpose in life?
It is other life, it is love, which gives your life meaning.
This is harmony. We must discover the joy of each other,
the joy of challenge, the joy of growth.
--Mitsugi Saotome

Hampster Wheel

I have a serious gym-related pet peeve.

If you are going to be on a machine at the gym, shut your fucking cell phone off. I'm serious. There may be nothing more annoying on the PLANET than a gym cell-phone talker. I'm on a treadmill running my ass off. My feet hurt, my legs hurt, my chest is burning and I'm hauling my ass, sweating like a pig and breathing like I'm... well, running my ass off. Sometimes I'm concerned that I'm even personally irritating others around me by BREATHING TOO LOUD. There are 20 other equally miserable - and equally SILENT - people surrounding me. None of us want to hear the tall, pretty, skinny blonde with her little beer gut strolling on the elliptical machine in her Tiffany jewelry not even breaking a sweat chit-chat with her BFF about their bar-hopping plans for the evening, and how Orlando Bloom is "oh my God, SOOO cute" and her vintage blazer is "oh my God, SOOO last spring". The endorphins and adrenaline coursing through my veins could, in fact, potentially cause me to think that strangling her with my own bare hands and drowning her in a pool of sweat might actually be fun. Never mind that I'm doing all of this running and am completely unsuccessful in getting away from the source of my agitation. This only manages to ADD to my annoyance.

So just shut it the hell off for your 20 minute "workout", okay? Thanks.

Silence

"A lot of things happen when you shut up."

~Mike Bologna

QOTD 10/21/05

If there must be trouble let it be in my day, that my child
may have peace.
--Thomas Paine

Pounding the Pavement

I decided yesterday that I wish there were a direct line from my brain to my blog while running. There's just so much... stuff... that goes on in there while I'm pounding through my neighborhood with Audioslave pulsing through my headphones. I go everywhere in my head while I'm out running, but when I come home to trap it all down into solid word form, it seems to disappear. Running has become such a catharsis... so much so that I wish that I could save just a little bit of what I get out of me. It would make for some good blogging, I think.



Time hasn't stopped for any troubles, heartaches, or any
other malfunctions of this world, so please don't tell me
it will stop for you.
--C.S. Lewis

A Modern Fairy Tale

Once Upon A Time...

In a land far away,
a beautiful, independent,
self-assured princess happened upon a frog as she sat,
contemplating ecological issues on the shores of an unpolluted pond
in a verdant meadow near her castle.
The frog hopped into the princess' lap and said: Elegant Lady,
I was once a handsome prince,
until an evil witch cast a spell upon me.
One kiss from you, however,
and I will turn back into the dapper, young prince that I am and then, my sweet,
we can marry and set up housekeeping in your castle with my mother,
where you can prepare my meals,
clean my clothes, bear my children,
and forever feel grateful and happy doing so.
That night,
as the princess dined sumptuously on lightly sautéed frog legs
seasoned in a white wine
and onion cream sauce,
she chuckled and thought to herself:
I don't frick'n think so.

Discover...Nitrous Oxide

I have decided that there must be something in the water that Discover Card feeds its employees. Every single person I've ever spoken to that was affiliated with Discover has been frighteningly perky and chipper. Either they drug the crap out of the peons, or it's just a really really REALLY great place to work!

I'm putting money on the drugs.

In Honor of Yom Kippur

Power always thinks it has a great soul and vast views
beyond the comprehension of the weak; and that it is doing
God's service when it is violating all his laws.
--John Adams

Just One More Mile...

What's the difference between running and running away?

Late Shift Blues

I work the 'late shift' on Wednesdays. This means that I come in at 9:30 instead of 8 and stay until 6 instead of 4:30. I don't mind the late shift. In fact, I kind of like it. Traffic isn't as bad (both ways), the morning goes by fast, and usually it gets very quiet after 4, which means I can be productive. The problem with the late shift is parking. As in, there never is any (especially when the weather sucks). Students and faculty snap up every available inch of space by 8:15. The lots are full, the streets are full, even the handicapped spots are full... today I spent 25 minutes driving around in circles to find a spot, each circle bringing me a block further from where I need to be.

When we were together, The Ex moved into a 1-bedroom apartment 3 blocks away from the office I work in now. Correction: I moved Ex into that apartment. This morning, I found myself on that street, in the rain, in front of that building, desperately hoping for a parking spot. What I saw instead was that the porch was empty of sports equipment, trash bags, lawn chairs, and there was a giant American flag fluttering from the front window. Ex clearly doesn't live there anymore.

This didn't make me sad or make me cry... but it did give me a very weird feeling. One day he's just no longer there. He no longer lives in an apartment that holds memories of us... in fact, he probably now lives with his new girlfriend [whom I fondly refer to as The Bride of Frankenstein] somewhere else. A year ago, I thought it would be me he'd move in with after the apartment on Ridgefield. It's like he's started a brand new life and been wiped off my radar... but I know he's still floating around the area. Who knows how long he's been gone from that place. Now, strangers live in an apartment that was practically my second home.

The way people's lives and paths cross and continue forward is so interesting... and in some ways, sad. It's been almost a year, and I think I can say that I know I'm going to be alright. I can't remember the last time I cried myself to sleep over him, or over a song that reminded me of him. I still get sad and miss the relationship, but I'm okay with it being over. I just wish sometimes that there could be a way to avoid amputating people from your life so unceremoniously. Or if so, they could be amputated from your heart as easily. Sitting in my car, in front of a stranger's apartment was a warped reminder of how nice it would be if things were that easy.

Life... Or Something Like It

It's a dreary Monday morning - dark and gray. What's worse is that it's Columbus Day, and everyone in the world is sleeping in... except me. Granted, I don't really want to celebrate the takeover and eventual exploitation of an entire race of people, skewed by American history to appear noble instead of barbaric ... but it's still depressing to be one of the few at work. I even got a spot in the "good" parking lot this morning.

Wow, is this what my life has become? Ecstasy over a new work computer and switching desks, angling for a spot in the "good" parking lot, looking for conveniently sized photos of my loved ones to stare at while I get verbally abused for my $10 an hour every day? Making sure I have "sensible" shoes and my shirts are "work appropriate"? Looking forward to Friday Jean Day? It's like Office Space, only more pathetic.

Then again... was my life any more meaningful before? Getting drunk and having empty interaction with other college students, searching for the latest trend and hottest shoes, seeing amazing women create endless drama with boys who never really cared about them, watching The Bachelor every week? Practicing quadratic equations that I would never again use after the open-notebook open-textbook exam? Pretending to read deep and meaningful literature, fibbing my way out of late grades on assignments?

It's funny... my generation complains about feeling stifled when thrown into the workplace to work the 9-5 grind, as if our worths have been compromised and our intellects marginalized. As if that hadn't happened ALREADY... we blame"growing up" as the cause. I wonder, however, if the growing up is instead the force that peels the veil of self-illusion back, forcing us to come to the realization of our own lack of meaning.

Maybe I'll just go for a run.