Tuesday, March 31, 2009


"You sound so much like your mother!"

These are words that I am used to hearing, especially coming from my dad. I am constantly reminded of how much I look like her, sound like her, and even sing like her. It doesn't really bother me as much as it used to, and I couldn't even explain why it would. I love my mother more than I have loved any person on the planet, and I miss her every single day. I think sometimes it is hard to know that I am a reminder to my dad, a reminder of all the things he lost when my mom died.

I heard this particular phrase from him on Saturday; We had lunch before he left town, and were discussing my aspirations for school. I expressed my frustration at having to take classes that I felt were worthless, and how I felt that regardless of the degree I held my intelligence wouldn't change. I mean this in a completely non-obnoxious way, but I am a very smart person. I think people often under estimate just exactly how smart I am (which I am thankful for most of the time, I like to fly under the radar) but occasionally I would like people to acknowledge it. He said that my mom often felt the same way, and that he thought she never actually gave herself credit for how smart she was -- another thing that I have apparently inherited.

I've decided that my earlier post about Foo Foo is all I'm really going to say on the subject -- it's a very personal one, and everything had a greater impact than I expected it would. I'll just say that I had a fantastic time hanging out with my sisters, and getting pedicures where people make really pretty little designs on my toes.

Sunday, March 29, 2009


These last few days have been a roller coaster of emotion. As Foo Foo says "You got all the crying genes in the family". And I did. And I utilized them quite frequently over the last few days. It's what I do.
Despite my best efforts, I was not fully prepared for visiting my little sister on the base that she spent eleven weeks being turned into a Soldier, becoming "Army Strong". I was not prepared for the formations of youth in unflattering fatigues, or the Army Motto that they would loudly recite, putting themselves on the bottom of their lists. Country and Fellow Comrades win everything. I was unprepared for the deceleration that these soldiers, these sisters/daughters/brothers/mothers/lovers, would in any situation destroy their enemy. Regardless of the fact that I have known my little sister is in the military, I believe I failed to grasped what it meant. She signed a contract that she would sacrifice her life for her country... that she would follow orders of combat when necessary. Now, Foo Foo's job shouldn't put her in combat situations, but it is the thought of this person who I have known always, my sister who has been an avid pageant participator, is now capable and trained to defend herself and her brothers and sisters in the military. Wow.
Ok, before I get too depressing on the situation I will also state how immensely PROUD I am of her dedication. Completing basic training is no small feat, and the responsibility and loyalty that she is showing is amazing. Regardless of how I feel about what battles we as a country are fighting, I am proud that my little sister, and all the other brave soldier out there, are choosing to protect and serve their country, and the rights of those in the country. (I'm fairly certain I've never made such a patriotic statement...)
Alright, I'm closing out before I get too weepy again... I'll give a more detailed description of the craziness and pedicure time that I spent with my sisters when my crying genes are under control!

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Foo Foo!!!

I am super, duper, schmooper excited about Friday. Why? I get to see my Foo Foo! For those of you who don't already know, Foo Foo is my little sister who recently joined the Army. Friday is her graduation from Basic, and so I will be getting to see her and spend some time with her. Because of this joyous occasion Big Sister, my Dad and Foo Foo's "friend" are coming to my place. While my townhouse is really not ready for the company, I don't care... because I get to see my Foo Foo! She has bee in Fort Jackson, SC -- which is killer because it is less than an hour and a half drive from my place! So, knowing she's right here, but not being able to see her has really sucked. Sadly, we only get Friday with her, as Saturday she is off to Texas to begin her AIT (job training). I am very proud of my little sister for what she is doing, even though I maintain that she is much too gorgeous for the military.

Monday, March 23, 2009


Just a warning to those who read this blog -- I am not usually so serious, nor quite so personal. If you have questions, please ask. If I can in any way lend support to someone, I would be more than happy to. I am putting this out there as my way of challenging myself to open up, to become a better writer, and to move towards my goal of writing a personal, heartfelt book.

The role of a writer is not say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.
-Anais Nin

In life there are many moments which define who we are, who we will become. It is impossible to know just when these moments will occur, as they usually do so with little-to-no fan fare. A casual run in with a stranger may become the making of your life long partner. A simple statement, offered in truth, maybe become the breaking of a long friendship. No one is able to know or calculate just when these moments will happen, or whether or not they should be taken note of.

These thoughts have come to mind recently when trying to categorize the terms "victim" and "survivor". With the recent media coverage of the "alleged" abuse of a certain celebrity, these terms have been slung all over the place. I believe that in our lives at some point we are both of these things -- but what qualifies the difference, and how do we recognize what we are in which moments. Is it our reactions, the way in which the situation is being described, the intensity to which one is violated? At what point does one become a victim, or a survivor, and how do you know that you have gotten there? As someone who has had the misfortune of experiencing verbal, sexual and physical abuse in my life, I would not classify myself as a victim. I suppose at some point, someone did. Especially when it came the the sexual abuse -- I was much younger and it took me many years to not only stand up for myself but to come to terms with all that had happened. When it came the physical abuse, I left. I have never considered myself a victim in that situation, but others may certainly have a different point of view.

I suppose I am just trying to reconcile these two things, as they seem to have significantly different meanings. The way I see it, this is what image these two terms perpetuate:

Victim - One who has/is experiencing a negative verbal, physical or sexual relationship and responds by simply staying in the situation. The person would take little to no action to remove themselves.
(out of personal interest the random house dictionary defines victim as - a person who is deceived or cheated, as by his or her own emotions or ignorance*, by the dishonesty of others, or by some impersonal agency)

Survivor - One who has/is experiencing a negative verbal, physical or sexual relationship and responds by rectifying the situation, rising above it, and turning the negative energy created into a positive life force.
(Again -- 1. a person or thing that survives
2. a person who continues to function or prosper in spite of opposition, hardship, or setbacks ** See end of blog)

Now these are not necessarily my opinions, just how I perceive that these two categories are portrayed. In reality I think most people who experience abuse are some where in the middle. No one, no matter what it is they have overcome, can display the survivor mentality 100 percent of the time. We all have breakdowns. Even now, almost 14 years later, I am still occasionally haunted by the sexual abuse I experienced. This is in spite of years of drugs and therapy, along with the best support system anyone could ask for. I feel that I in no way define myself, my life by these acts, in fact many of you may feel uncomfortable or surprised at reading this. I've done what I can to conceal these facts from most people, however at this point there is no reason to continue to do so. In my wildest dreams, if what I have to say could help one person, I would put it all out there. This is the start of me breaking down the wall, the persona, that I have spent a long time building.

Ok, I'm getting a little off track here.

I guess what I'm saying here is that I don't think anyone, in any situation, should allow themselves to be defined by the terms or labels that people/a person/society/whomever choose to use in reference to them. While I may be "an abused/victim/survivor" that is simply one instance of an entire person. I am also "a lover", "a learner", "stubborn", "a writer", "a comic", "a friend", "a sister", "a daughter", and so on. When looking at a snap shot of someone's (possibly your own) life, it is easy to only consider only the position of victim/survivor. Remember the other beautiful and wonderful facets of yourself, or those around you. The weight put on the labels may just be the weight that is keeping you down.

* I think this is an important point -- it is easy to allow ourselves to be deceived, certainly in cases of verbal abuse -- words are only words, right? It is the ignorance that we allow ourselves, as well as the ignorance of the abuser, that makes it ok for us to stay in these relationships -- our ignorance is our rationality. *

** I find these two definitions to be unique. The first merely means you continue to live. The second qualifies as continuing to function or prosper. I felt these were notably different -- there is an enormous difference between simply being alive and actually living. **


Haven't really had the time to sit down and do a good update recently... I feel like they have mostly been random streams of consciousness, with no purpose to them. I will try to rectify this at some point, but this morning will probably just be more babbling.

It was a jam-packed weekend, Big Sister left Saturday and another friend showed up shortly after. Spent Saturday at the Ophthalmologist getting new contacts, glasses and allergy eye drops, and spent that evening continuing my weekend-o-food and playing Rock Band.

Yesterday was very nice -- took a long nap and went for a hike with new friends and had sushi. I also procured some new reading material -- The Tao of Pooh and The War of Art (which is a suggestion I swiped from a fellow blogger)

Again -- haven't really been in the updating mood -- maybe later i'll feel up to it.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Food, Food.

Apparently Big Sister visiting means I should be prepared for a weight gain.

After the corned beef dinner, she and I decided we were going to get a glass of wine at a Wine Shop that is nearby. We ended up also getting dessert. Wow. What a dessert it was... Flourless Chocolate Cake and Bag of Doughnuts (which only made me think of Joey Bagadoughnuts - Birbigs!). These delicacies, if they may be called, were paired with a lovely little dessert wine. After stuffing our faces and imbibing I felt exhausted and enormous, and so headed home for some sleep.

Today I met up with Big Sister for lunch -- at The Cheesecake Factory. If you have not had the fortune of dining in this fine establishment, you should go out of your way to do so. I am not usually a proponent of chains; may this be the exception to the rule. They have every type of food you could imagine, plus they have the 2nd best cheesecake I've ever had. (The 1st honor goes to Ms. Topper) After gorging my self on chowder and pizza, I managed to scarf down half a piece of banana cream cheesecake. Yea. Wow.

So basically, I feel like a fat ass, especially since I've been eating so well the last few months. I suppose a splurge every now and then is alright.

I would also like to say that I love my job -- I am currently sitting next to my Boss (who is also on her laptop) drinking a beer. At work. Seriously. She's drinking one too.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Family, Beef and Vespas

I'll get to the picture in a moment... for now I'd like to update you on life events.
First off Hub is scheduled for surgery for April 1st -- they are going to remove the gall bladder and take a liver biopsy to make sure that there is nothing underlying going on, since his appendix just quit on him, and his bilirubin levels have been high since before that happened. He's got to be on a low fat, low spice diet till that happens, and he is not too happy about it, although I think it really hasn't affected his diet as much as he thinks it has. Whew.
My Big Sister is here!!!! YAY! She's on her spring break and so decided to load up her Beagle and visit :) Which is really nice because she's coming back down this way next week for our little sisters Army boot camp graduation! Oh, Sisters. How you enrich my life. Anyway, she's here till Saturdayish, and we're going to go out tomorrow night and have sisterly fun. I'm also making corned beef at her request (she called me the other day to ask if you could make corned shrimp -- I guess you could), which the Hub can't eat because of that whole low fat diet thing. I decided to just be irish about it and make cabbage and mashed potatoes as well -- so I'm looking forward to all that.

Ok. The Vespa. I don't know a lot about them, really, other than they are awesome and get kickin' gas mileage, but I've decided I want one. For real. I doubt this will happen anytime in the near future, but I know I want one that can go at least 60, and other than that I don't know enough to have requirements. I like the paint job on this one (it was a special edition Gap/Vespa collaboration for the holidays) and would generally like to find a quirky looking one.

I don't care what you say, I think they are awesome.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Oh, and that...

While driving earlier today I had the radio on, as I often do, and a song caught my attention. Now, it is not a particularly musically memorable song, kind of your typical power ballad, but I really liked the lyrics, and felt that they were extremely relatable. So, I looked them up. Much to my surprise (and I'll admit, embarrassment) the song is written by Jessi Alexander and Jon Mabe, but sung by.... Miley Cyrus. No, I'm not joking.
Anyway, I liked the song and the lyrics enough to post some of them here... if you'd like to

There's always going to be another mountain
I'm always going to want to make it move
Always going to be an uphill battle,
Sometimes I'm gonna to have to lose,
Ain't about how fast I get there,
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb

The struggles I'm facing,
The chances I'm taking
Sometimes might knock me down but
No I'm not breaking
I may not know it
But these are the moments that
I'm going to remember most yeah
Just got to keep going
And I,
I got to be strong
Just keep pushing on

The video -- in case you're interested. This also apparently goes with a movie she just put out.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


Reasons I know I must be getting older, or leaner to act my age:

1) I didn't know that it was St. Patrick day today.
2) Now that I do know, I don't care
3) Hearing about all the crazy green-beer parties just makes me want to go to sleep.


Whoa! Sorry for the brief disappearance... I was out of town for the weekend, and then everything exploded, which is often a hindrance to blog writing.

I don't even know where to start, but I guess I'll tell you about the enjoyable part of my weekend first...

Hub and I ended up going to Atlanta (I say Atlanta, but it's actually a suburb, Woodstock) for the weekend. We left with the pug Saturday morning to hang out with some friends. Did the usual, awesome, relaxing and entertaining things while there. Got CiCi's. Sat and talked for hours with Mimo and Bob. The boys came over and we played balderdash.

Sunday morning we went to J. Christopher's for brunch, and as always it was delicious. Afterwords we played a card game called squidge, that I am TERRIBLE at, but that is lots of fun. Okay, I realize all of this seems mundane, and while it might be, it was exceptionally fantastic for me. I love these people a whole lot, and it always makes my life better to see them. Besides, the next part is so far from mundane, I needed the comparison.

The Hub and I decide the head out around 3:30, after visiting the boys place, and this exit time should have put us home around 7. We did not, in fact, arrive home until almost 5:30 the next morning. The events are as follows:

- Stop to get food, I am hungry.
- Oh, Sonic, how we have a love/hate relationship with you
- Hub orders Bacon Cheeseburger, I order French Toast sticks
- 20 min later, Hub has "indegestion"
- 10 minutes later I am running into a waffle house off 85 asking for the nearest hosptial, because Hub is on knees in pain in back seat of car
- 15 min. later arrive at the worst hospital in the history of hospitals
- Hub is actually taken to a room fairly quickly.
- 3 hours later, Hub gets pain medicine. At this point NO ONE has introduced themselves, washed hands or been pleasant in any way.
- 1 hour later, blood work is done.
- 2 hours after that, Hub finally gets ultrasound of gallbladder and kidneys. Still, no introductions, no one has informed us of anything (ie, bloodwork results) and my call bell ringing has been ignored.
- We are informed it would be about 45 minutes for the results of the ultrasounds.
- 2 hours later, we are moved to another room because they are shutting down the wing. Still no ultrasound results.
- 1 hour later, we are informed that Hub does in fact have gall stones. And that we can go home.
-2 1/2 hours of a rainy/foggy/exhausted drive later, come home and collapse.

REALLY PEOPLE?! 9 freaking hours for bloodwork and an ultrasound?! It's fine if we had to wait. I understand that Hub was not dying or anything. However, the HIPAA and Joint Commission violations that I observed while there were completely unacceptable and the fact that NO ONE was pleasant the entire time we were there is just ridiculous. Hub had his appendix out only 4 months ago, and we spent about 7 hours in the ER before finally figuring out what was going on, and that was totally fine, because everyone was pleasant. I didn't feel angry or irritated. People apologized for the delays, and generally tried to make sure that Hub was comfortable, and even went so far as to extend that hospitality to me. I am appalled that this place is not only up and running, but they are actually Joint Commission certified. Me and my pissy self are working on a letter to send the hosptial administrator, as well as Joint Commission.
Take that, assholes.

Alright, long rant, but I am STILL thouroughly traumatized by the experience, and am only thankful there wasn't something more wrong with Hub. He is meeting with a surgeon this morning, and will most likely be having his gall bladder out within the next few weeks.


Thursday, March 12, 2009

Truer Words...

One of the frustrating things about writing is that I will have the best ideas when I am not in a position to write something down, and then I'll forget about it later. Sometimes I feel like these nuggets that get away from me are the very reason why I get stuck. If I could just hang on to these tidbits my writing would be increasingly more productive, although this could just be lie I'm telling myself to make up for the fact that I have been sucking at writing anything decent lately. Just this morning I had a thought and managed to get it on my notepad in my cell phone -- prompting me to consider the need for a tape recorder, however lame that may be. It's much faster and more convenient to speak the words, even if it is only a thought or a fragment, then it is to carry around the essentials for writing.

As anyone who is a writer knows, you can't force yourself to write well, and once you try it's all over. Inspiration comes at 2am when the rest of the world is sleeping, or in moments that others view as difficult or ugly, but we as writers view as inspiring and true. That is what kind of writer I feel that I am (or that I want to be) -- a truth writer. And not to say that everything I write is real, but I want there to be an element that people can read and think "I know exactly how that feels". I want to capture the moments that seem mundane and make them memorable. I want to help people realize the intricacy of everyday life, the beauty that emerges from the pain and the depths to which they themselves are capable of discovering.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Internet Friends

It has recently come to my attention that there are tons of people that I check up on daily who I only know by means of the interwebs. I have a strong, unhealthy obsession with being online, and follow way more blogs/comics/vlogs than is probably really normal for a sane person. So, I've decided that when the mood should strike me I'll be be posting "People I am Friends with (only on the internet, not IRL, but if they wanted to be my friend I totally would be)". Yes, the title needs some work. I'll get there. I will be begining this segment with the person who is probably my most favorite... Liz Feldman. She currently has a vlog on afterellen.com in which she acts completely adorable and interviews other people I would also like to meet. After doing a little bit of research I found that I have actually been a fan of hers for about 15 years -- I just didn't know it at the time. You see, she was a writer on All That, a show that I am not ashamed to say I watched avidly as a pre teen. (C'mon, you know you did, too) I mean, we all remember Lori Beth, right? Oh, Nickolodeon. I digress.

Aside from All That, she has written for the Ellen Degeneres show which I love, love, love. She does stand up comedy, and is just basically awesome. So, she now does this Vlog for AfterEllen called "This Just Out with Liz Feldman" and I can't stop watching it! She bascially drinks alcohol and talks about whatever the hell she feels like. She has incredibly endearing facial expressions, and always giggles at her own jokes. Plus, she wears an amazing blazer. ::Swoon:: She has hillarious interactions with her celebrity (or celesbian, as she says) guests, often carrying out ridiculous jokes in which she only refers them as a character, or ends up with 7 minutes in heavan behind a curtain. One of her friends, Raimy, always makes an appearance and enlightens watchers with current and hip music choices. Overall, I think she is absolutely adorable and would like to make the proclomation that she is, in fact, my friend. Even if it's just online.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


I can write my way through anything.

Social Contract

One of the only TV shows I have managed to stay loyal to for several years has been House, MD. I like this show for many reasons, the most recent being the addition of Olivia Wilde to the cast (when will she get rid of Foreman?!). I think that a lot of the episodes make good social points, and I love House's surly demeanor.

Last nights episode was no exception to this rule, and really made me examine what it is I like most about House (both the character and the show). In this episode a man has frontal lobe disinhibition (Similar to Phineas Gage) and goes from being a mild mannered, loving husband and father to... well... House. It really explored (as much as one can in an hour) the ways that people censor or inhibit themselves to remain socially acceptable. The episode was, appropriately, called Social Contracts. Apart from the governmental meanings of this phrase, it is interesting to consider how this applies in everyday life. What kind of contracts do we make with our employers, our friends, our families? If we have thoughts, but hide them, what kind of person are we -- the person we pretend to be, or the person on the inside? This then comes down to who decides what is socially acceptable, your relationships with people, etc.

For instance, I definitely censor myself at work. I don't think my personal views on religion, politics, abortion or gay marriage have any pertinence to my job. This means that my employer could think that I am an entirely different person than I actually am. I still think and feel the same way I always do, I just supress my usually vocal stances on certain topics.

With friends it definitely comes down to how long I've known you, or what kind of situation we meet in. Whenever I meet Twenty's friends they always get a huge dose of what I am actually like, because I know her so well and have no inhibitions around her. On the other hand if I am meeting a stranger for the first time at Yoga or at a bar I'll present myself in a more subdued manner.

I'm not really going anywhere specific with this, I just thought it was an interesting show that sparked some interesting thoughts. I feel that in the coming days I will pay closer attention to my interactions with people and when I do feel the need to make myself more "socially acceptable".

Monday, March 9, 2009


May I just say that this was a fantastic weekend? I spent the entire weekend getting to visit with friends I've known forever, and made some new friends as well. I must reiterate the fabulousness that was Maya Angelou, I honestly feel like her talk was on the life changing level - just a shot of encouragement, wisdom and respect.

After the lazy, lazy afternoon on Saturday (where we watched Clueless. Really.) everyone prepared to go out. Jizzy attacked my eyebrows at my request, and might I say, she should be a professional. At the amazement of the only male in attendance, all 4 women were ready to go on time. EARLY, even. I know, it must have been a miracle. Ryan's Daughter was pretty cool and Jizzy had a birthday cake and balloons ready for Twenty, which was a fabulous. One of my favorite people on the entire planet was there and we spent most of dinner talking and catching up on things, and him mocking my snort. or telling me it was endearing. or something.

Brewer's was packed (as usual, i am told) and so I managed to procure a couple souveniors. Quite legally, I assure you! Then, the gaggle of increasingly drunk birthday celebrators moved on to Central. Twenty proceeded to become sloshed, as she should, and I ended the night only a bit tipsy, although I almost fell flat on my face in front of several policemen thanks to my inability to walk properly. The car ride back generated several interesting conversations, which shall not be posted here for the protection of everyone involved, and ended in the dissapointment of closed fast food joints.

I, reluctantly, left early on Sunday. After grabbing breakfast with RAR I drove the long drive from Glen Burnie (where'd I'd left my car) to Charlotte. Now, I don't know if any of you are drivers, but I am. I mean, really love driving. People are always appalled at the distances I'll drive instead of getting plane ticket, but I adore the feeling of cruising with the music on... having time on my own with my thoughts. I also find that going on long car rides with people will almost always end in you knowing a considerable amount more about the person than you could learn in years of friendship. Anyway, the weather was gorgeous, and so I was able to keep my windows down, music blaring, collecting awkward looks for my tendancy to dance while driving.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Just the start...

Last night was amazing! Hearing Maya Angelou speak was incredible. I think I gained more from the hour and a half of hearing her speak than all the years I have spent in various therapy sessions about self confidence, self respect and how to honorably remember the women you may have lost in your life. That alone was worth the drive up here.

After the talk we walked to Akbar and had some great Indian food, ordered enormous beers, and ate some sort of Indian desert which resembled bread pudding. We had planned on hanging out and drinking a bit, but it turned more into just watching some tv and passing out. I was snuggled by the adorable Andy (Twenty's kitty), and woke up ridiculously early. I am never able to sleep late, and it's even more problematic when I'm not at home. Looking forward to a possible nap this afternoon before heading to Ryan's Daughter for dinner.
I bombarded Twenty at about 7:30 for our venture into DC. Sticky Fingers, as expected, was amazing. RAR came with us and we met up with an old friend... it's nice that on top of getting to spend the weekend with Twenty, I've been able to see several people. After gorging ourselves on their wonderul pastries we dropped RAR off and stopped in Hampden at Sugar, which was a very educational visit, to say the least!
I'm now lazing about, looking forward to the debauchery that will ensue later!

Friday, March 6, 2009

Ode to KHT

This weekend will be wonderful. I can feel it, and I love that feeling. The start of something long anticipated, with people you really love. Coming into Baltimore on the light rail (something I've never done) was fantastic -- it gave me a little bit of time to reflect, while reminding me why I love Baltimore : It's gritty. Real. Dirty. Eclectic. I'm ashamed to say I don't remember the last time I actually went out in Baltimore, it may have been this weekend last year, but I am excited to rectify that situation.

I've arrived a bit early (I'm obsessively early) and so I have a few minutes to pound around my keyboard before meeting an old friend for sushi, then heading on to hear Maya Angelou speak.

This whole weekend is brought to you in part by Twenty's birthday... Her 7th 21st birthday (Yes, you read that right, I think she's in denial)... because of this I'm going to take the time to dedicate this entry to her.

Twenty and I have known each other for at least a decade. She and I have been through more shit (there is no better word) in that time period than most people would think possible. We've shared secrets, told stories, grown together and have even "broken up" for a short period. My relationship with her has grown more than any single relationship I've had in my entire life. We've been through the heartbreak caused by unfaithful lovers, and the guilt caused when we were the heartbreakers. We have both been through major family changes, and major changes within ourselves. She is someone who I know that, without a single doubt, I can call on. It has taken us many years to form this bond, but I would never trade our past tribulations as they are what have made us know the extent of our loyalty and trust for one another. She is my sister in all senses of the word, and I am proud to have her as a friend.

Happy Birthday and, as always, I wish you only the best.

Now let's get our drink on ;) !!

Wednesday, March 4, 2009


Thanks to Twenty I was recently perusing an apparel site and came across these. AMAZING. That is all there is to it!

That is pretty much all you're going to get in the way of an update. My brain is pretty mushy at the moment. Doing laundry late at night doesn't do much to stimulate me. I have the pug snuggled up next to me, and am burning CDs (all very very legal) to keep me company on the long drive to Charm City. I was going to bring David Sedaris' 'When You Are Engulfed in Flames' but it is almost 5 hours of book on tape! Thats a lot. I may still, because I'd really like to "read" it... but this would be my first real book-on-tape experience, and I'm not sure if this is a good one. It is, however, actually David Sedaris reading, which gives it MASSIVE points. I just adore him.

Ok I'm out.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009


Recently I've been very reflective. Along with my decision to go back to school, I have been evaluating the things in my life that make me happy and fulfilled. With this comes a lot of reminiscing, and so I decided to look up my old blog, which was on livejournal. HOLY SHIT, is all I have to say.
I started that journal back in 2004 (5 years ago?! wow) and the changes in myself are monumental. Obviously some things haven't changed -- I still feel insecure sometimes, I still feel like I never make enough time for my friends, I always wish I could travel more. My writing has definitely changed, although I must say some of the poems I wrote and posted aren't so bad. There are so many people mentioned in my previous journal who I just don't speak to anymore... it's a weird feeling.
The journal entries are random, and I just put whatever thoughts I had into the journal, without any real regard for my own privacy (I may just think this because I know all of the stories behind the entries). They are not particularly well thought out, and very few of them make good points, but it is crazy to be able to look back and see what I was thinking at what points.
Twenty has read some of it, as well, and makes the point of how young we were. Not that in the five years since I started that journal we have suddenly become wise, but so many things are different. She and I were college room mates and always acted ridiculous together (which we still do). Our relationship is much more mature, or at least more honest and open, and we as people want different things.
I guess looking back at all the insanity I wouldn't change the decisions I've made. I'm still not entirely sure who I am or where I am going, but I look forward to coming back to this journal one day and seeing the major changes in myself.

Monday, March 2, 2009


I'm going to write about something that is a little embarrassing to admit, but has become a huge annoyance in my life: I have a cockroach problem. Not like an infestation, but one every couple days or so. Apparently this is one of the problems with living in the Southeastern part of the US. And these are no wimpy cockroaches, my friends. These are enormous American Coackroaches. They randomly appear and gross me out and I always have to kill them.

For instance:

This weekend I was in the kitchen cooking. Imagine my surprise when I turn around and out of nowhere there was a cockroach the size of my thumb chilling on the wall. It was right above Simon's kennel, so after pulling that out of the way I grabbed the "kills on contact" roach spray. This spray LIED to me. After months of killing these cockroaches with a bleach cleaning product, I decided I would get an actual roach spray. Well let me tell you, the bleach worked better. After giving up with the "on contact kill" I just tried to drown it. It started to slow down, which is a plus because these fuckers are fast, so I stepped on it. AND IT DIDN'T DIE. Attempt nubmer 2 at squashing was MUCH more violent because, well, i was pissed. Finally, dead cockroach. Which i now have to pick up and continue to be disguisted by.

Basically these things are just gross and there is no way to stop them from coming in, especially when it is cold outside.

I hope I have sufficiently grossed everyone else out.