Have I changed?
Well, you can certainly take your nickel back.
8.2.06
5.2.06
Malicious Mirabel
Mirabel, believe it or not, is a boy's name. He used to be my floor's RA, but after tonight, I don't think I'll be seeing Mirabel anymore.
Alex and I were sitting on my bed, trying to watch Donnie Darko, but we had just watched Flightplan and probably weren't ready for another movie. Then, we hear Mirabel pounding on my suite-mate's door, drunk as all hell, yelling, "Open the door. Open the Fucking door, Bitch! Open the Fucking door, Bitch." He repeated this, over and over again. I'm very close with my suite-mate Paulina, and I know that she was not doing anything in her room that would have made Mirabel so aggressive. Plus, Paulina is a quiet girl, and had hardly ever spoken to him. I cut across the bathroom to see what was going on. She started screaming back at him, "No I don't have to open the door. This is ridiculous and disrespectful. How dare you call me that...etc." and he eventually walked away.
I give Paulina my phone to call campus public safety and she files a report. Shortly after she does this, Mirabel comes back to her door and starts pounding again. This time, he was dumb enough to talk to someone on his cell and actually admitted to being on duty. This sent Paulina over the edge, and I called public safety to file another report, and they assured me that officers were on their way.
At this point, Alex and I, plus Miranda (a friend of Paulina's) are all in Paulina's room, waiting with her for the campus cops to show up. They come, ask Paulina a few questions, and the search for a missing Mirabel began.
Now, according to Bailey, the black man that sits at the dorm's front desk late at night and can't type to save his soul, later told Alex and I that the only reason the campus cops found him was because he slipped on the ice outside while he was smoking and cracked open his head. They asked him some questions, and took him to the hospital, for both the cracked head and his blood-alcohol level (that's university protocol).
Paulina is pressing charges against him (which means that real police made their way to our dorm) because God knows what could have happened if she opened the door. I don't think she'll get very far, but Mirabel's career as an RA is OVER, which actually makes me a little sad. He was a nice guy, and other than this one incident, he'd never been mean or belligerent.
On a side note, it was a good thing that my door was locked for the reason that my roommate and her boyfriend were out in the study lounge and had no key with them...
But after Paulina screamed at Mirabel, he tried to open my door to get in.
Such drama!
Paulina is ok, though. She's a little shaken, but she'll be just fine.
And because every story must relate to me, I was excited to give my witness statement to the Chicago cop. I might get to go to court too! Yay fun!
Alex and I were sitting on my bed, trying to watch Donnie Darko, but we had just watched Flightplan and probably weren't ready for another movie. Then, we hear Mirabel pounding on my suite-mate's door, drunk as all hell, yelling, "Open the door. Open the Fucking door, Bitch! Open the Fucking door, Bitch." He repeated this, over and over again. I'm very close with my suite-mate Paulina, and I know that she was not doing anything in her room that would have made Mirabel so aggressive. Plus, Paulina is a quiet girl, and had hardly ever spoken to him. I cut across the bathroom to see what was going on. She started screaming back at him, "No I don't have to open the door. This is ridiculous and disrespectful. How dare you call me that...etc." and he eventually walked away.
I give Paulina my phone to call campus public safety and she files a report. Shortly after she does this, Mirabel comes back to her door and starts pounding again. This time, he was dumb enough to talk to someone on his cell and actually admitted to being on duty. This sent Paulina over the edge, and I called public safety to file another report, and they assured me that officers were on their way.
At this point, Alex and I, plus Miranda (a friend of Paulina's) are all in Paulina's room, waiting with her for the campus cops to show up. They come, ask Paulina a few questions, and the search for a missing Mirabel began.
Now, according to Bailey, the black man that sits at the dorm's front desk late at night and can't type to save his soul, later told Alex and I that the only reason the campus cops found him was because he slipped on the ice outside while he was smoking and cracked open his head. They asked him some questions, and took him to the hospital, for both the cracked head and his blood-alcohol level (that's university protocol).
Paulina is pressing charges against him (which means that real police made their way to our dorm) because God knows what could have happened if she opened the door. I don't think she'll get very far, but Mirabel's career as an RA is OVER, which actually makes me a little sad. He was a nice guy, and other than this one incident, he'd never been mean or belligerent.
On a side note, it was a good thing that my door was locked for the reason that my roommate and her boyfriend were out in the study lounge and had no key with them...
But after Paulina screamed at Mirabel, he tried to open my door to get in.
Such drama!
Paulina is ok, though. She's a little shaken, but she'll be just fine.
And because every story must relate to me, I was excited to give my witness statement to the Chicago cop. I might get to go to court too! Yay fun!
31.1.06
Irresponsible? Probably
Well, my camera is broken, and now my iPod has joined the ranks of broke-dom...
I'm not sure what to do. I believe it's still under its year warranty, but ALL MY MUSIC IS GONE!!!
It's ok. IT'S OK! IT'S ALL GOING TO BE OK!!!
Obviously, I'm panicking a wee bit.
In other news:
Jesse Jackson spoke at DePaul. I caught the end of it, but I'll be honest, I was a little turned off. He had everyone repeat his words, but I was told that that's just "his thing." You GO poor people!
I hate my English teacher. She wastes our class time by making us do elementary English assignments, but that might just be the fact that many of the people in my class can't write for beans. I had a meeting with her today to discuss my writings...worthless. At least she said that I could communicate clearly. Thank-you Mrs. Page.
This week is mid-terms. I'm crying inside.
I'm not sure what to do. I believe it's still under its year warranty, but ALL MY MUSIC IS GONE!!!
It's ok. IT'S OK! IT'S ALL GOING TO BE OK!!!
Obviously, I'm panicking a wee bit.
In other news:
Jesse Jackson spoke at DePaul. I caught the end of it, but I'll be honest, I was a little turned off. He had everyone repeat his words, but I was told that that's just "his thing." You GO poor people!
I hate my English teacher. She wastes our class time by making us do elementary English assignments, but that might just be the fact that many of the people in my class can't write for beans. I had a meeting with her today to discuss my writings...worthless. At least she said that I could communicate clearly. Thank-you Mrs. Page.
This week is mid-terms. I'm crying inside.
22.1.06
Weird dreams
I've been having the strangest dreams these past two nights.
The most disturbing dream occurred two nights ago. It started out with me sleeping in my bed in my dorm, and my roommate with her boyfriend in her bed on the other side of the room. Her boyfriend had to get up and leave so he started putting his clothes, only to realize he had no clean underwear. This is where things get a little fuzzy. I'm not sure if he saw a pair of my panties and decided to wear them, or if I offered them to him. No matter. He started to put them on. Now, Ashley's boyfriend is a bigger guy. He couldn't easily fit into my underwear, but in the dream, he managed to squeeze them on, and continued to taunt me. "Hey, Diana. Look, there's a crotch in your panties. How do you feel about that?"
I couldn't tell if I was laughing or crying in the dream, but I was in hysterics.
The most disturbing dream occurred two nights ago. It started out with me sleeping in my bed in my dorm, and my roommate with her boyfriend in her bed on the other side of the room. Her boyfriend had to get up and leave so he started putting his clothes, only to realize he had no clean underwear. This is where things get a little fuzzy. I'm not sure if he saw a pair of my panties and decided to wear them, or if I offered them to him. No matter. He started to put them on. Now, Ashley's boyfriend is a bigger guy. He couldn't easily fit into my underwear, but in the dream, he managed to squeeze them on, and continued to taunt me. "Hey, Diana. Look, there's a crotch in your panties. How do you feel about that?"
I couldn't tell if I was laughing or crying in the dream, but I was in hysterics.
16.1.06
My baby is in the shop
Last week, I broke my camera. It was in my backpack along with a water bottle. Later, I discovered that my bag was wet as well as my camera.
Fortunately, my mother had the smarts to buy an extended warranty, so I can get it fixed free of charge.
Well, it'll be shipped to the manufacturers tomorrow, but it'll take 4-6 weeks. That's 4-6 weeks without a camera! 4-6 weeks without new buzznet pictures! OH NO! WHAT WILL I DO WITHOUT BUZZNET?
My little camera needs lots of prayers, guys. I want it back as soon as possible, but without your help, I feel as though I'll never get it back.
12.1.06
So much to cover!
Tyler and I met online about a year ago. He started reading my blog, and I checked his out. Then suddenly we started an e-mail correspondence that continues to this day!
He just recently moved to Chicago and we finally met up.
He met me at the "L" stop closest to him. I'd seen pictures of him before, so I knew what he looked like, but had no idea what he would sound like, which is actually what I was concerned most about, for some reason. He has a nice mellow voice. I was glad.
I wouldn't say that things were awkward between us, but things were a little quiet, but things only got better as the evening went on.
We went to a coffee place near his apartment in Andersonville. Nice place, nice atmosphere. More talking, more getting to know a person I already knew.
There will certainly be more meetings for Ty and I. Alex and I are going to take him to H&M soon and help him get some new clothes for job interviews.
Hooray for meeting people!
He just recently moved to Chicago and we finally met up.
He met me at the "L" stop closest to him. I'd seen pictures of him before, so I knew what he looked like, but had no idea what he would sound like, which is actually what I was concerned most about, for some reason. He has a nice mellow voice. I was glad.
I wouldn't say that things were awkward between us, but things were a little quiet, but things only got better as the evening went on.
We went to a coffee place near his apartment in Andersonville. Nice place, nice atmosphere. More talking, more getting to know a person I already knew.
There will certainly be more meetings for Ty and I. Alex and I are going to take him to H&M soon and help him get some new clothes for job interviews.
Hooray for meeting people!
6.1.06
Ryan
Ryan Barrows died today. I don't think many people in my circle know him, but he was a good kid, and certainly didn't deserve to die of cancer this morning at the age of 21.
I knew Ryan through youth group. He was kinda weird, I won't lie, but he was charming. The only way I knew how to describe him to people was that he worked at our local movie theatre forever.
We went on a missions trip together and I met his dad.
His older brother committed suicide about a year ago.
Ryan was diagnosed with cancer last year. I want to say it was a type of bone cancer. The doctors wiped out his immune system and he was in isolation for several months.
Did I mention he was 21?
I knew Ryan through youth group. He was kinda weird, I won't lie, but he was charming. The only way I knew how to describe him to people was that he worked at our local movie theatre forever.
We went on a missions trip together and I met his dad.
His older brother committed suicide about a year ago.
Ryan was diagnosed with cancer last year. I want to say it was a type of bone cancer. The doctors wiped out his immune system and he was in isolation for several months.
Did I mention he was 21?
5.1.06
Paulina's Pinch
Yesterday, my sweet-mate Paulina confessed that she had a mega-crush on a waiter that works at a local pizza joint.
"I think he's anywhere between 25-28 years old. Do you think that's too old? He's really cute though. He's tall and skinny with thick, black glasses. Dark curly hair on top, but not like a Jew-fro. AND he always wears the same white t-shirt, jeans, and red converse. I really want to slip him my digits. What do you think?"
I told her to go for it. Be fearless. Bait the trap then watch him bite.
So we designated tonight as the night when Paulina gives this man her number. I told her that no matter what happened, she was going to follow through.
We brought a posse to support Paulina on her mission.
He was pretty cute, I must admit. Skinny and tall like Morrissey, but nerdy like Elvis Costello. The red converse definitely sold me.
We ordered dinner and ate it casually, occasionally sneaking glances at him. Talking about him. Giggling. Eating. I kept telling Paulina to go up to the counter and give him her number when no customers were around, but she hemmed and hawed.
"I don't think I can do it, you guys. What should I do or say? I don't know..."
"Goddamit, Paulina. You are giving him that number or I will!"
The plan was that we were going to pack up, and then on the way out, she would go up to the counter and pass the note. But then pizza-man disappeared. He resurfaced wearing a trench coat. We all started to freak out. "Paulina, it's your last chance. Do it now!"
"No, I can't do it. I can't."
He went out the door.
"Dammit Paulina. Fine. I'll do it for you."
I grabbed the number from her and ran towards the door, but at this point he had already crossed the street. One of Paulina's friend was behind me and told me to go. And I did. I ran across the street to catch him.
"Hey. Wait! Wait up!"
He turned around and I gave him the napkin with her number.
"Ummm...My friend in there thinks that you're cute, and she wants to give you her number, but she was too chicken to do it."
"Oh really? Well, I probably noticed her. Where was she sitting?"
"At the long table, closest to the counter. She's the cute one with short, straight brown hair."
"What's her name?"
"Paulina."
"Oh yeah, Paulina. I remember her because she goes to DePaul, right?"
"Yeah."
"Ok, well is she going to be home later tonight? Maybe I'll give her a call. Tell her my name is Barry."
The things I do for my friends.
Actually, it wasn't a big deal. I no longer fear the opposite sex, plus this was a person I didn't even know. I didn't care. If I weren't already involved, I might have given him my own digits.
Now, we wait.
Hopefully, I'll have more updates. Now that I'm a part of this, I want to see this thing through.
"I think he's anywhere between 25-28 years old. Do you think that's too old? He's really cute though. He's tall and skinny with thick, black glasses. Dark curly hair on top, but not like a Jew-fro. AND he always wears the same white t-shirt, jeans, and red converse. I really want to slip him my digits. What do you think?"
I told her to go for it. Be fearless. Bait the trap then watch him bite.
So we designated tonight as the night when Paulina gives this man her number. I told her that no matter what happened, she was going to follow through.
We brought a posse to support Paulina on her mission.
He was pretty cute, I must admit. Skinny and tall like Morrissey, but nerdy like Elvis Costello. The red converse definitely sold me.
We ordered dinner and ate it casually, occasionally sneaking glances at him. Talking about him. Giggling. Eating. I kept telling Paulina to go up to the counter and give him her number when no customers were around, but she hemmed and hawed.
"I don't think I can do it, you guys. What should I do or say? I don't know..."
"Goddamit, Paulina. You are giving him that number or I will!"
The plan was that we were going to pack up, and then on the way out, she would go up to the counter and pass the note. But then pizza-man disappeared. He resurfaced wearing a trench coat. We all started to freak out. "Paulina, it's your last chance. Do it now!"
"No, I can't do it. I can't."
He went out the door.
"Dammit Paulina. Fine. I'll do it for you."
I grabbed the number from her and ran towards the door, but at this point he had already crossed the street. One of Paulina's friend was behind me and told me to go. And I did. I ran across the street to catch him.
"Hey. Wait! Wait up!"
He turned around and I gave him the napkin with her number.
"Ummm...My friend in there thinks that you're cute, and she wants to give you her number, but she was too chicken to do it."
"Oh really? Well, I probably noticed her. Where was she sitting?"
"At the long table, closest to the counter. She's the cute one with short, straight brown hair."
"What's her name?"
"Paulina."
"Oh yeah, Paulina. I remember her because she goes to DePaul, right?"
"Yeah."
"Ok, well is she going to be home later tonight? Maybe I'll give her a call. Tell her my name is Barry."
The things I do for my friends.
Actually, it wasn't a big deal. I no longer fear the opposite sex, plus this was a person I didn't even know. I didn't care. If I weren't already involved, I might have given him my own digits.
Now, we wait.
Hopefully, I'll have more updates. Now that I'm a part of this, I want to see this thing through.
How about those UTI's?
Last night, I pissed and there was blood.
That's not normal.
I had to wait until this morning to receive medical care, so at 10:15 (as instructed) I was at the medical center ready to fill out paper work and pray to God I get an appointment.
To my surprise, there was only one girl in front of me... a girl I knew. We were both in the Discover Chicago class together. I never talked to her much, mostly because she had designated someone as her best friend in the class. Plus, we're not exactly compatible. She's from Wisconsin, plus she's tall, blonde, trendy, and a business major.
We got to talking after filling out all the forms. As we're talking, I'm trying to figure out her symptoms. She didn't have a scratchy voice, or visible bleeding. She wasn't hunched over in pain...
My God. She was there for the exact same reason I was!
My guess wasn't confirmed until I gave one of the nurses my urine sample. There was the exact same cup filled with pee with her name on it. She also saw me turn in my pee.
"I had to do that too," she said.
"Yep. How about those UTI's?" I said.
She rolled her eyes and sighed. She knew EXACTLY what I was talking about.
I'm still giggling because I saw someone else's pee.
That's not normal.
I had to wait until this morning to receive medical care, so at 10:15 (as instructed) I was at the medical center ready to fill out paper work and pray to God I get an appointment.
To my surprise, there was only one girl in front of me... a girl I knew. We were both in the Discover Chicago class together. I never talked to her much, mostly because she had designated someone as her best friend in the class. Plus, we're not exactly compatible. She's from Wisconsin, plus she's tall, blonde, trendy, and a business major.
We got to talking after filling out all the forms. As we're talking, I'm trying to figure out her symptoms. She didn't have a scratchy voice, or visible bleeding. She wasn't hunched over in pain...
My God. She was there for the exact same reason I was!
My guess wasn't confirmed until I gave one of the nurses my urine sample. There was the exact same cup filled with pee with her name on it. She also saw me turn in my pee.
"I had to do that too," she said.
"Yep. How about those UTI's?" I said.
She rolled her eyes and sighed. She knew EXACTLY what I was talking about.
I'm still giggling because I saw someone else's pee.
4.1.06
The same beginning
Yesterday was the first day of class at DePaul, and I was happy to be back home.
My classes are mostly the same, but now instead of Discover Chicago: Music Scene, I have a comp. and rhetoric class.
I want to tell a quick funny tangent about this English class. I've never been in a class with so many people with ESL (English as a Second Language) or unique first and last names. My favorite name is a girl with the name of Skysta. That's probably not how she spells it, but that's how she pronounces it. Sky-Sta. I want that to be my name. That's a sweet name.
I'm concerned about the amount of homework I'll get this quarter, especially with this English class. I'll get it all done, but it will definitely cut down on the amount of time I spend dickin' around with my husband.
Oh wait. That's a good thing, especially since yesterday was a reenactment of every other day we've spent at DePaul.
My husband and I, plus two other vocal students (Meatloaf and Ptaaaak!)went to our favorite Thai restaurant and then rented Wedding Crashers.
Same as it ever was.
Wedding Crashers was a funny movie, and I know at one point, all of us were laughing hysterically at something, but whether that was the movie or something Ptaaak! did, I'm not sure.
Then of course my roommate's boyfriend came over and I listened to loud music on my iPod while they made out on her bed. But that's fine because I didn't wake her up this morning until 15 minutes before class started. Oops...
So we're all back in the swing of things. I just hope that this time around, I'll do more work than play.
EDIT
The thing I was laughing hysterically about didn't happen while watching Wedding Crashers. It happened in my room. Ashley's boyfriend saw a box of truffles that he had given her. One truffle was left. He takes the chocolate, turns to me, and says, "I gave her this box of four truffles several months ago and there's still one here. I force fed her two of them to her."
Let's just say that the delicious Godiva chocolate truffle was fed to her like a dog taking its medicine. Shove the pill down his throat, then rub his neck to make him swallow.
I nearly died, the spectacle was so funny.
My classes are mostly the same, but now instead of Discover Chicago: Music Scene, I have a comp. and rhetoric class.
I want to tell a quick funny tangent about this English class. I've never been in a class with so many people with ESL (English as a Second Language) or unique first and last names. My favorite name is a girl with the name of Skysta. That's probably not how she spells it, but that's how she pronounces it. Sky-Sta. I want that to be my name. That's a sweet name.
I'm concerned about the amount of homework I'll get this quarter, especially with this English class. I'll get it all done, but it will definitely cut down on the amount of time I spend dickin' around with my husband.
Oh wait. That's a good thing, especially since yesterday was a reenactment of every other day we've spent at DePaul.
My husband and I, plus two other vocal students (Meatloaf and Ptaaaak!)went to our favorite Thai restaurant and then rented Wedding Crashers.
Same as it ever was.
Wedding Crashers was a funny movie, and I know at one point, all of us were laughing hysterically at something, but whether that was the movie or something Ptaaak! did, I'm not sure.
Then of course my roommate's boyfriend came over and I listened to loud music on my iPod while they made out on her bed. But that's fine because I didn't wake her up this morning until 15 minutes before class started. Oops...
So we're all back in the swing of things. I just hope that this time around, I'll do more work than play.
EDIT
The thing I was laughing hysterically about didn't happen while watching Wedding Crashers. It happened in my room. Ashley's boyfriend saw a box of truffles that he had given her. One truffle was left. He takes the chocolate, turns to me, and says, "I gave her this box of four truffles several months ago and there's still one here. I force fed her two of them to her."
Let's just say that the delicious Godiva chocolate truffle was fed to her like a dog taking its medicine. Shove the pill down his throat, then rub his neck to make him swallow.
I nearly died, the spectacle was so funny.
30.12.05
28.12.05
Nothing brings a smile to my face more than a gay man
Two gay men make my day even better!
I had to go to the mall today and buy a birthday present for the B-man. While I was in this particular store, I happened to run into a fellow DePaul classmate who worked at the store. I said hello to her, and then she just so happened to check me out. Glad to be leaving (not because of her, but the store's overwhelming atmosphere), I scampered to the exit, only to hear a man's voice call my name.
"Hello, Darling."
"Brandon! Good to see you again." Brandon looked at someone else from his party approaching. "Alex! Oh my God! I haven't seen you in FOREVER! How's it going?"
Alex and I were in the very first Limelight Theatre production together. Every once in a while, I'd see him over the summer while he was living with his dad in the area. Alex (19) is Brandon's (20?) younger uncle. Funny family.
They weren't doing anything special, so I suggested we chat over some coffee.
It was such a good time. They ranted and praised the life-changing experience known as Brokeback Mountain. Brandon and I booed and hissed at our high school choir director. He also told me that I had not yet lived until I see Kapote. Alex is as wonderful as ever and still doesn't blip on my gay-dar. He has turned into such a movie buff and has a really good voice. It's too bad we never went to high school together. We always got along pretty well.
They really cheered me up, though. You might try and take a jab by calling me a fag-hag, but there's nothing better than having a good talk about the arts and people we hated in high school and, of course, scoping out attractive men.
I had to go to the mall today and buy a birthday present for the B-man. While I was in this particular store, I happened to run into a fellow DePaul classmate who worked at the store. I said hello to her, and then she just so happened to check me out. Glad to be leaving (not because of her, but the store's overwhelming atmosphere), I scampered to the exit, only to hear a man's voice call my name.
"Hello, Darling."
"Brandon! Good to see you again." Brandon looked at someone else from his party approaching. "Alex! Oh my God! I haven't seen you in FOREVER! How's it going?"
Alex and I were in the very first Limelight Theatre production together. Every once in a while, I'd see him over the summer while he was living with his dad in the area. Alex (19) is Brandon's (20?) younger uncle. Funny family.
They weren't doing anything special, so I suggested we chat over some coffee.
It was such a good time. They ranted and praised the life-changing experience known as Brokeback Mountain. Brandon and I booed and hissed at our high school choir director. He also told me that I had not yet lived until I see Kapote. Alex is as wonderful as ever and still doesn't blip on my gay-dar. He has turned into such a movie buff and has a really good voice. It's too bad we never went to high school together. We always got along pretty well.
They really cheered me up, though. You might try and take a jab by calling me a fag-hag, but there's nothing better than having a good talk about the arts and people we hated in high school and, of course, scoping out attractive men.
22.12.05
I need a holiday hopper
Sorry for lack of updates, kiddies. I started writing a post a few days ago about the size of my family's Christmas tree, but I never got around to finishing it because then I realized that I'd have to take a picture of it and I didn't feel like doing that because then I'd have to update my Buzznet as well. I have a ton of pictures that I just haven't felt like posting.
Sigh...
What's wrong with me? Limelight is done now. I don't have that excuse anymore. Christmas is here. I'm excited to see my family again. My cousin Josh is back from Spain. He'll have a lot of stories to tell. I went to Alex's Christmas party last night. That was lots of fun.
So why don't I want to do anything right now? After all my complaining about not having anything to do, now all I want to do is stay at home and be with my brother and sister.
I still don't have my Dekalb hat back. Oak Park Mastermind must want to keep it for good. This makes me very sad.
I go back to school January 1. I can't tell if I'm excited or dreading.
Sigh...
What's wrong with me? Limelight is done now. I don't have that excuse anymore. Christmas is here. I'm excited to see my family again. My cousin Josh is back from Spain. He'll have a lot of stories to tell. I went to Alex's Christmas party last night. That was lots of fun.
So why don't I want to do anything right now? After all my complaining about not having anything to do, now all I want to do is stay at home and be with my brother and sister.
I still don't have my Dekalb hat back. Oak Park Mastermind must want to keep it for good. This makes me very sad.
I go back to school January 1. I can't tell if I'm excited or dreading.
12.12.05
The age old question
What do you want?
Since infancy, we have all been asked this question.
What do you want?
Answers are usually one of the following:
[Crying and screaming]
Chocolate.
Money.
success.
Love.
I don't know.
Usually, the last seems to be my answer, even if I just want something to eat from the kitchen. I don't know what I want to eat or what I want my life to be. Are we supposed to know what we want? The power to choose and to reason supposedly separates us from other animals, but what good does that do us when we can't come up with an answer?
All of this thinking is spurred by something Brian said to me this past week.
"I'm almost 34 and I don't even know what I want."
This concept nearly floored me.
We can go through our entire lives without feeling satisfied with ourselves. I guess I always thought that at some point in our lives, we would eventually reach a nirvana of sorts, a complacency with a career or living situation or relationship. And if one does not find this happy place, then she is a failure, a vagabond, a gypsy in life with little hope of really "settling down."
This pinnacle should start to be reached during the college years because that's the time you're supposed to "find" yourself.
Well, I've decided that my previous beliefs are shit.
College is nothing. It's fun and you learn a trade and you learn to be independent, but at this point, we're all too self indulgent and starry-eyed and wet behind the ears to really learn anything about ourselves, except maybe our alcohol tolerance.
And most of all, it confuses the hell out of you. If you're not confused, then there's probably something wrong with you, or you're too motivated for your own good.
Do I know what I really want to do with the rest of my life? I haven't the slightest clue, but I'll get a degree in vocal performance and see where that gets me. Maybe later in life, I can go back to school and learn something really cool, like Russian history.
I know I don't want to be aimless forever, but I don't think I'll be concerned if I can't find the perfect job right away or get upset if things don't go according to my original plans.
What do you want?
I don't know. What do you want?
Since infancy, we have all been asked this question.
What do you want?
Answers are usually one of the following:
[Crying and screaming]
Chocolate.
Money.
success.
Love.
I don't know.
Usually, the last seems to be my answer, even if I just want something to eat from the kitchen. I don't know what I want to eat or what I want my life to be. Are we supposed to know what we want? The power to choose and to reason supposedly separates us from other animals, but what good does that do us when we can't come up with an answer?
All of this thinking is spurred by something Brian said to me this past week.
"I'm almost 34 and I don't even know what I want."
This concept nearly floored me.
We can go through our entire lives without feeling satisfied with ourselves. I guess I always thought that at some point in our lives, we would eventually reach a nirvana of sorts, a complacency with a career or living situation or relationship. And if one does not find this happy place, then she is a failure, a vagabond, a gypsy in life with little hope of really "settling down."
This pinnacle should start to be reached during the college years because that's the time you're supposed to "find" yourself.
Well, I've decided that my previous beliefs are shit.
College is nothing. It's fun and you learn a trade and you learn to be independent, but at this point, we're all too self indulgent and starry-eyed and wet behind the ears to really learn anything about ourselves, except maybe our alcohol tolerance.
And most of all, it confuses the hell out of you. If you're not confused, then there's probably something wrong with you, or you're too motivated for your own good.
Do I know what I really want to do with the rest of my life? I haven't the slightest clue, but I'll get a degree in vocal performance and see where that gets me. Maybe later in life, I can go back to school and learn something really cool, like Russian history.
I know I don't want to be aimless forever, but I don't think I'll be concerned if I can't find the perfect job right away or get upset if things don't go according to my original plans.
What do you want?
I don't know. What do you want?
8.12.05
Dentist
Normally, I don't dread going to the dentist like some people. My dentist is a good friend of the family, and she's nice, doesn't give me too hard a time for not flossing.
But there are factors beyond the dentist's control.
My appointment was for 11, but I got there nearly 20 minutes early. So like a normal person I sat in the waiting room, reading a trashy magazine, and I barely notice the man sitting at the other end of the couch.
"Hello. How are you today?"
Shit. He engaged me, and I was obligated to return the favor.
"I'm fine."
"My name is Charlie."
My god, it had to have been the most awkward 20 minutes of my life. It was like talking to a friend you never really liked, but for some reason or another, you have to be nice to them.
He was CLEARLY gay (the speech impediment was a clear give-away), but worked for a video production company that filmed for Maxim Magazine and Budweiser. He would giggle uncomfortably while describing the "scenes" he had to set up for half naked girls to play on.
At the end of our little chat, he invited me to watch the Chronicles of Narnia with him and his dad.
"No, that's ok. Sounds like a family thing I wouldn't want to intrude upon."
Then I sat in the dentist's chair while the dental hygenist brutally scraped away the enamel on my teeth.
When my real dentist came into the room, I smiled at her with my gums bleeding.
I have to go back next Thursday to get a cavity filled.
At least next time Charlie won't be there.
But there are factors beyond the dentist's control.
My appointment was for 11, but I got there nearly 20 minutes early. So like a normal person I sat in the waiting room, reading a trashy magazine, and I barely notice the man sitting at the other end of the couch.
"Hello. How are you today?"
Shit. He engaged me, and I was obligated to return the favor.
"I'm fine."
"My name is Charlie."
My god, it had to have been the most awkward 20 minutes of my life. It was like talking to a friend you never really liked, but for some reason or another, you have to be nice to them.
He was CLEARLY gay (the speech impediment was a clear give-away), but worked for a video production company that filmed for Maxim Magazine and Budweiser. He would giggle uncomfortably while describing the "scenes" he had to set up for half naked girls to play on.
At the end of our little chat, he invited me to watch the Chronicles of Narnia with him and his dad.
"No, that's ok. Sounds like a family thing I wouldn't want to intrude upon."
Then I sat in the dentist's chair while the dental hygenist brutally scraped away the enamel on my teeth.
When my real dentist came into the room, I smiled at her with my gums bleeding.
I have to go back next Thursday to get a cavity filled.
At least next time Charlie won't be there.
4.12.05
Drunk Dialed...Again!
At least someone is having a good time.
For the past two nights one of my friends has drunk dialed me.
Now, normally this wouldn't be a problem, but due to my sick circumstances these phone calls have come at very inopportune times. (There is a mountain of dirty kleenexes by my bedside. If one didn't know better, they would think that someone has been furiously masturbating.)
I'm not mad at my friend. I think it's hilarious that I have been chosen as the designated drunk dialee. But it is a sign of the times that we are now in. No longer are we innocent, goofy high school kids. This is the beginning of something much greater. First come these random phone calls, then come marriage and babies and then death.
As far as I'm concerned, the combination of marriage and babies is fatal for at least the first fifteen years. Then, when you're 45 or so, you get to have a life again.
Literally, and symbolically, it's a wake-up call. This is life now, and all the playing fields are level. Whatever upper edge I thought I had over people my age is now gone.
Other people want the same singing career, so I have to be on guard at all times.
Maturity wise, I'm starting to feel no different. In fact, I have a sneeking suspicion that I have digressed.
It's not like this: Oh, I want to stay a teenager forever and have all my friends be the same so that we can live in peace and happiness and giddiness for the rest of our lives because I don't want to be old and jaded.
It's more like: Wow, this is really happening. We really are growing up and becoming (or not becoming) the things we once wanted to be. Some of us have changed a lot, and others not so much.
And this is only the beginning.
For the past two nights one of my friends has drunk dialed me.
Now, normally this wouldn't be a problem, but due to my sick circumstances these phone calls have come at very inopportune times. (There is a mountain of dirty kleenexes by my bedside. If one didn't know better, they would think that someone has been furiously masturbating.)
I'm not mad at my friend. I think it's hilarious that I have been chosen as the designated drunk dialee. But it is a sign of the times that we are now in. No longer are we innocent, goofy high school kids. This is the beginning of something much greater. First come these random phone calls, then come marriage and babies and then death.
As far as I'm concerned, the combination of marriage and babies is fatal for at least the first fifteen years. Then, when you're 45 or so, you get to have a life again.
Literally, and symbolically, it's a wake-up call. This is life now, and all the playing fields are level. Whatever upper edge I thought I had over people my age is now gone.
Other people want the same singing career, so I have to be on guard at all times.
Maturity wise, I'm starting to feel no different. In fact, I have a sneeking suspicion that I have digressed.
It's not like this: Oh, I want to stay a teenager forever and have all my friends be the same so that we can live in peace and happiness and giddiness for the rest of our lives because I don't want to be old and jaded.
It's more like: Wow, this is really happening. We really are growing up and becoming (or not becoming) the things we once wanted to be. Some of us have changed a lot, and others not so much.
And this is only the beginning.
3.12.05
I am deathly ill.
Not really, but I want to die.
I think I have bronchitis or something of the respiratory sorts. I'm shaky because of the medicine I'm taking, but I haven't seen a doctor yet. There's this awful thing called a breathing treatment. Basically, it's a bunch of liquid steroids put into a container, and then this machine that makes a lot of noise vaporizes the medicine and you breath in. It takes forever and makes you feel like you have Parkinson Disease.
The stuff works though. I can breathe slightly better now but I'm still coughing. That probably won't go away for a while. And I still have a sore throat. At least that can be solved.
So, if you're one of my true friends, leave me alone and don't call me. Even if I answer, you will not recognize my voice.
Let me die in peace.
Not really, but I want to die.
I think I have bronchitis or something of the respiratory sorts. I'm shaky because of the medicine I'm taking, but I haven't seen a doctor yet. There's this awful thing called a breathing treatment. Basically, it's a bunch of liquid steroids put into a container, and then this machine that makes a lot of noise vaporizes the medicine and you breath in. It takes forever and makes you feel like you have Parkinson Disease.
The stuff works though. I can breathe slightly better now but I'm still coughing. That probably won't go away for a while. And I still have a sore throat. At least that can be solved.
So, if you're one of my true friends, leave me alone and don't call me. Even if I answer, you will not recognize my voice.
Let me die in peace.
1.12.05
Gray Skies
I need a day job.
I love cleaning houses two days a week and judging speech meets on Saturdays, but this is ridiculous.
I'm hiding from my father but he has the day off today so it's a little challenging.
I should see what Chops is doing.
Hopefully something slightly more interesting than visiting blogs and buzznet all day long.
This is the dark side of frequent posting.
Hott Gurl hasn't given me my Dekalb hat back yet.
I'm too impatient.
Many things have been ruined because I haven't been patient.
This post is inspired by this one, but I spell better.
Boyfriend is visiting ex-girlfriend in Chicago today.
Shouldn't let it bother me.
I have little room to talk.
This post is going to piss off more than one person.
There's snow on the ground today.
What is that?
Chops, I hate you sometimes and why in the world would you have a crush on MJ?
I need a better life.
I love cleaning houses two days a week and judging speech meets on Saturdays, but this is ridiculous.
I'm hiding from my father but he has the day off today so it's a little challenging.
I should see what Chops is doing.
Hopefully something slightly more interesting than visiting blogs and buzznet all day long.
This is the dark side of frequent posting.
Hott Gurl hasn't given me my Dekalb hat back yet.
I'm too impatient.
Many things have been ruined because I haven't been patient.
This post is inspired by this one, but I spell better.
Boyfriend is visiting ex-girlfriend in Chicago today.
Shouldn't let it bother me.
I have little room to talk.
This post is going to piss off more than one person.
There's snow on the ground today.
What is that?
Chops, I hate you sometimes and why in the world would you have a crush on MJ?
I need a better life.
Honey Bear Ham wants you to stay in the city
Alex and I, of course!
Kids, the suburbs suck.
The city is where it's at.
According to some important people, we'll all be living in the city someday. Of course, I don't remember where I heard this fact and I can't give any real numbers, but we're all living in the city, in the slums.
Which I think is a better place to be than home right now.
Never come back home, kids. It only leads to heartache and dependency.
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