Bitch Pulled Out My Weave!

i moved...again

2008-08-13T19:58:00.003-04:00

what can i say, i like to relocate...so from here on out i'll be over here getting my bitch on.

nobody wants to know him, for they think that he's just a fool but the fool on the hill sees the sun going down and the world spinning round.

2008-03-18T11:24:00.004-04:00

To Whom It May Concern:

Although I’m certain it neither has ever nor will ever concern the wholly bombastic synaptic reflexes that occur haphazardly in your weary little head that exists only in a realm of all things that perchance may serve you some kind of purpose or that requires the most minimal amount of effort on your part, I am not so fortunate. Laziness is a dish best served by someone else, and I was cast-off from that categorical servitude with not so much as even a breadcrumb to satiate my overactive mind.

I should have guessed a disconnect would have happened, after all it has so many times before; and yet this oh-so-commonplace dissociation seems so much more difficult to grin and bear than the rest. Honestly, at this moment in time, I really have no idea why since you have always clung to this creed of elementary and clairvoyant when it comes to dealing with people. You thrive on the path of least resistance, it’s a state of being you embrace in all facets of your life, so I suppose it’s mostly my own hurt and umbrageous nature that thought for so long perhaps things could be different.

Bottom line, I know full well that the old saying “out of sight, out of mind” has few caveats and when the majority migrated onto greener pastures I really didn’t care, but for some unbeknownst reason, I thought you would be different. I thought the six years of friendship forged between us and based on an undeniable kinship and understanding would conquer all. How foolish I must have been, no? I, of all people, should know that a friendship cannot exist merely by will alone, and a friendship certainly cannot exist absent the two required to tango. I understand that keeping in touch in this modern world has become increasingly more difficult, what with e-mail, instant messaging, and text messaging, but you would magically find the time to “speak” with me when it was in your best interest. Meanwhile, like the dolt I am, I would initiate everything: I called, I e-mailed, I texted, I visted, I planned and implemented vacations. It’s a laundry list of me, me, me, and it’s a laundry list that has finally solidified into the undeniable fact that whatever friendship, relationship, or acquaintance we might have had was wholly my own creation.

I’m not sure what I expected. I was the only one who didn’t stroke your ego continuously and cater to your desire to be placed on a pedestal: while others would engage you with how beautiful you supposedly are even if you are overweight, I’d simply invite you to the gym with me; while others would coddle your stupidity with regard to the internet and men, I would simply roll my eyes and say nothing more than “he’s an asshole,” and, while others would tell you how you can achieve anything, I would be the one telling you to get on top of things and actually work to get to where you want to be. I never quite fit the mold of the company you so obviously chose to keep, and so, in retrospect, I really shouldn’t be shocked that whatever existed between us was wholly a figment of my own imagination and doing, but I am.

It’s been nearly two years since you last bothered to acknowledge my existence, and for some reason I can’t seem to let go. In part it has to with the fact that there are so few genuinely good people in this world that when you do find one you hold onto them, and I just can’t seem to jump the hurdle that “genuinely good” is a description that never should have been assigned to you seeing as you lack even a hint of common courtesy. And yet, for some reason I just can’t get you out of my head. When my family asks about you, I pretend as if I don’t care we don’t speak, but I do. When my husband asked me what I did to cause our rift I yelled at him for assuming it was my fault, but I was secretly wondering if maybe it was something I did. When people asked if you would be my maid of honor I acted as if it was the most absurd idea I’d ever heard, but I’d always assumed you would be filling that role.

What’s absolutely pathetic on my part is that, even though you cast me off, I’d pick up things where they left off as if nothing happened were I given the chance. Lucky for me I’ll never get that chance. Without question, I really must thank you for striking me off the list of people you give any surmountable amount of a shit about because with friends who have no interest in you or your well being, who really needs enemies?

Respectfully Yours,
E.

tried to give you summer, but i'm winter. i wish i could give you spring, but i failed. i failed so hard.

2008-03-16T05:06:00.001-04:00

today i'd like to share with you [i.e. absolutely nobody] why my vacation pretty much sucked and is seriously contending for the top spot on my "worst vacations ever" list pending how absolutely insane i shall get during the one-way twenty-four hour traveling time of a trek to get to russia [and back.]

oh, and before you get on my ass for being the maven of pessimism and negativity, i'm by no means saying i didn't have fun on my vacation. i mean, c'mon! i got to snowboard for a week and i got to spend a week in a romantic little cottage with my husband [yea yea, close enough], two things that are totally bomb ass. i even ventured back into the world of normal eating habits and, dare i say it, ordered dessert on our last night there, oh my! nevertheless, there are those instances where the good cannot possibly outweigh the bad and that's what's'a'goin' on here.

so, uhhh, yea...let's get on with it shall we?

10. we got snowed in. i knew it was absolutely idiotic to stop off in cleveland for one day, but who am i to deny him visting his hometown, his friends, and his family? just so happens that cleveland was slammed with fucking snow on friday and saturday and our flight on friday was canceled, and then our flight on saturday was also canceled. shit happens, i know, but that's two days that were subtracted from my vacation and that also happens to be two days that i had to spend calling continental airlines because, apparently, even if the state forces airports to close and flights to be canceled they aren't responsible for for rectifying it in any way, especially not in a gratis kind of way. best part of the whole experience? for the first hour i called continental it was busy...but it wouldn't be busy right away, oh no! it would be busy after you went through the menus and entered in all the information they asked for. coming in for a close second, though, was talking to four different fucking people and hearing four different fucking things regarding fees and available flight times. you'd think a company as big as continental would get their shit together, jaysus!

9. the cute little cottage had a few issues with it when we first arrived. it reeked of cigarette smoke, there were actual boogers stuck to the shower curtain, the blanket on the bed had what appeared to be a big ol' period stain in the middle, and, though not a problem per se 'cause i can't really complain about it, the jacuzzi tub took fucking forever to fill. all pretty gross, but once everything was taken care of, it was allllll gooood.

8. we went snowboarding in utah. have you ever been to bumble fuck utah? no cell phone service anywhere, no regular cable tv, no alcoholic beverages served in the normal places like the restaurant or a bar, and the internet at the hotel was mandated by state law to exercise parental controls and limit the pages we could view. i shit you not, i could look at more web content on my work computer, and they fucking block weather.com. there's nothing there but a mountain, ski lifts, a few cabins, and a "mall" consisting of a tiny market, a sub shop, and a gear rental place. basically, if you weren't snowboarding, bathing, sleeping or eating, you were pretty much sitting there twiddling your thumbs bored as fuck.

7. he set it up so we had a romantic bath and massage at the spa, which was pretty fucking awesome. so why is it on the list? i happened to be allergic to the lotion/oil/whatfuckingever the masseuse used during the massage leaving me with a full body rash. i was relaxed..but i was also itchy like a mother fucker.

6. i'm not a big mexican food fan, naturally mike knows this and naturally his face reveals the complete shock when at dinner i ordered fajitas; however, brian head has one restaurant and after four days i was running out of shit to try. so, he gives me the whole "you hate mexican food, what the fuck are you ordering fajitas for?" shpeel, and then tells me i'm going to regret it. fucker, i hate it when he's right. montezuma had his revenge on my ass, literally, and all i ordered was americanized mexican cuisine. i spent the entire night going from the toilet to the sofa, all the while he slept like a fucking baby in the middle of the king size bed.

5. we landed in vegas, then woke up at 5am to drive to utah...add daylight savings into the mix and monday was the longest fucking day ever. we got to utah at 9am, get geared up and hit the mountain....conditions aren't powder heaven but they aren't horribly icy either, so i decide to fuck around and do some tricks...naturally, i underestimated the ice-if-ication right before i do a jump, and suffice it to say the landing wasn't pretty. i say, nay nay! the landing involved me landing on the side of my head...and, even though i had a helmet on, i wound up biting through a piece of my upper lip. yummmmmy, huh?

4. even with spf 15 on, i managed to get a goggle tan. it looks totally stellar, trust me. even more stellar is the fact the tip of my nose ended up burning..so...i was rocking the rudolph look for most of the trip.

3. the vet called and told me that lulu, my kitty cat, isn't doing very well. apparently, she's as much of an anomaly as i am: her BUN and CRE levels are elevated indicative of renal failure, but her urinalysis is absolutely normal. that said, they have no idea what is wrong with her and on tuesday she goes to a specialist. it's been a dark fucking cloud over my head since the vet called last thursday. hopefully she's okay-i can't imagine going to sleep at night without her laying next to me, and i really can't imagine sitting on the couch without her purring in my lap.

2. we went snowmobiling, which was totally baller...snowmobiling is pretty fucking awesome. we had a four hour excursion set up, and, seeing as i can't ever learn my lesson, i decided to try doing a little bit of a jump pretty much off the bat, bad idea. i went up, i went down, and inertia kept my torso going down...and inertia didn't give up until i smacked my head onto the handlebars. luckily, i had on a helmet, unfortunately the helmet visor got slammed into my chin creating a pretty big cut, and i somehow managed to split my lip completely open. oft course, after my little incident, the guide decides it's a good time to tell the group that conditions are terrible for doing jumps...little bit to late for that, asshole! anyway, not much for being a pussy or an attention whore, i suck it up and do the entire tour with nothing more than a piece of paper towel to attempt to soak up the blood. of course, one of the snowmobile's breaks down and we're stuck in an open area waiting for someone to come help, and i decide to putz around...while i'm off the six other people in our group--all couples with the chick riding in back--asks mike if we had planned to ride separately or if it just happened that way, to which he says "why wouldn't she want to ride on her own?"...and then the guys ask me the same thing as if i'm some kind of idiot for wanting to ride on my own snowmobile and not behind mike...i guess they were intimidated by the girl with bigger balls then them, huh? the tour finally ends, and, seeing as the bleeding hadn't stopped, i figure it'd be a good idea to get stitches. simple enough right? yea, no...remember when i said there was absolutely nothing in brian head, utah except a mountain and a few cabins? i wasn't kidding..we had to drive an hour and a half to the next town for the nearest mom'n'pop facility to give me stitches.

1. we left utah and got back to vegas at noon...and my flight wasn't until four mother fucking thirty, but, being the somewhat good girlfriend i am i opted to be dropped off at the airport and wait for my flight so that he could go spend time with his friends and get the bachelor party festivities under way [not his bachelor party, his friends]. no good deed goes unnoticed, so i had the joy of not only sitting in the airport for four and a half hours by myself, but i also had the joy of having my flight delayed a half hour as a result of a late inbound aircraft, then delayed for another hour due to mechanical issues, then delayed for another two hours as a result of the mechanical issues needing to be fixed, then delayed for another hour because the part they needed to fix happens to be the most obscure airplane part in the world and instead of fixing the plane they decide we get to wait for another aircraft to fly in for us to take. so instead of leaving at 4:30pm we left at 8pm...i didn't land until 4am...i didn't get home until 5am. so, i spent eight hours sitting in the las vegas airport going absolutely insane with a stitched up lip, the non-goggle covered part of my face peeling, only to get home at 5am so i could wake up at 6am for work.

yup. vacation pretty much sucked...at least i'm still alive and not in jail...and at least i'm not pregnant...i hope. hmmm.

'til the day your heart explodes or the day that you get old i will carry you 'til then from the beggining to the end. i wish you the best.

2008-03-05T09:40:00.006-05:00

1. is there something about inclement weather that is so daunting to people that logic evades them and they must do all things that would cause the adverse effect of their intention? it's not the first or the last time you'll be driving in snow people...and the laws of physics are pretty static: objects in motion tend to stay in motion and an object met with resistance can only pervade force in direction of least resistance. in other words, if you slam on your breaks, you will fish tail, and if you slam on the gas while changing lanes you will spin out. your car technically can't do two things at once when it's sunshine kisses and fairytale skies, what the fuck makes you think it can do two things simultaneously when there's snow on the ground?

2. is "one"-ply toilet paper that is so thin and coarse it makes you feel like you just took some bark off a tree and opted to wipe your goodies with it, really that much cheaper than the softer more substantial two-ply's of the world? i've been to costco, i've compared the bulk prices, i'm still not convinced it really is a money saving choice. nay, i say it's a choice that simply deters people from using the facilities in a manner they would were they at home..well, at least women. i somehow don't really think men care.

3. i am addicted to call of duty 4. no, really...like, i get moody when he sits there and plays for hours on end and i'm not allowed to..and i actually look forward to days when i get to come home early and get play all by my lonesome. that game is audiovisual crack.

4. smart phones are the most nonsensical thing in the world to me. remember the days when you weren't responsible for e-mails and work related shit because you didn't have access to a computer or the internet? remember when you didn't have a twenty-four hour portal to yourself and you could just relax and deal with work things when you got around to it and not in the middle of a romantic dinner for two? it was the bomb diggity, wasn't it? it'd be pretty awesome if you could do that stuff again, wouldn't it? and yet we idiotic and counter-intuitive individuals go out of our way to have the hippest most up-to-date smart phone out there so our work day can go from ten hours to twenty-four. seems kind of stupid huh?

5. wanted: a flamboyant and flaming gay man to plan my wedding with carte blanche for all things decorative and showy with the exception of the bride's veto power and the designated theme dictated by the above mentioned bride. details include flower arrangements, table center pieces, seating arrangements, overall look and feel of the room, hair and make-up of women involved in the wedding, and will involve assisting with the choice of bridal gown as well as dealing with a high-strung detail oriented perfectionist who must have things the way she wants and her even more high strung detail oriented perfectionist of a mother who also demands on having things the way she wants. applicants must be twenty or over and have proof of their fairy status.

6. in other wedding news, registration has begun and the overall gist of it goes a little something like this: "which one do you like?" "i don't care" "what about this one?" "no, that's ugly." "this one?" "no, it's still ugly. i like something like this. it's classic and won't ever go out of style. that's what we should be looking for." "so you do care." "no, if you want something else that's fine" "okay, so then what about this?." "absolutely not." yup, he's the most stubborn and insistent on his way apathetic guy ever, huh?

7. in an effort to show we chitlins the fatherland of our heritage, my family is taking a trip to eastern europe--latvia [where my mom is from], belerus [where my dad is from], st. petersburg [for no other reason than, why the shit not?] and moscow [ditto]. aside from the twenty-five hour and seventeen minute travel time both ways, i'm pretty stoked to go on the trip...or i should probably say i was. to go to russia you need a visa, and to get a visa you need to have an invite to visit russia...where do you get an invite? you pay a russian company an extraordinary amount of money to give you a slip of paper that says your invited. moreover, aside from the fact the application to get a visa is more probing than the applications i had to fill out to enter the ohio and new jersey state bars, you must document and prove why, if your parents or ancestors were once citizens of russia, you are not. how the fuck do i document and prove that? on top of spending close to three hundred bucks to just get a visa to enter this so-called democratic country in addition to the cost of plane tickets and hotels, now i have to explain in a diplomatic and poetic way that my ancestors were perhaps citizens of russia because russia decided it needed a little bit of cushion from the evil, evil democracies of the world and therefore opted to simply reach out and grab the nearest countries like a child who has no clue what the difference between his toys and anything else around him is, but most likely my ancestors weren't because jewish people were not afforded russian citizenship to begin with, and it all doesn't matter because my parents were never russian citizens and are not united states citizens ..and document this whole "transgression" against the fatherland? you're fucking kidding me, right? oh, and if you don't register your visa within three days of arriving within russia, you are detained in the country in some prison until they think you should leave...where do you register? no one really seems to fucking know. fuck this trip. seriously.

8. to have an aura of sarcastic, quick witted, darkness around you, you have to have the right type of personality and manner of carrying yourself. whether i have that personality and manner of carrying myself, i have no clue..but i do know i have that aura pretty much down to an art. it's a skill to be able to bitch, moan, complain, and express an overall disgusting and disdain for the world and people who inhabit it in a way that doesn't make you seem like a condescending, stuck-up, elitist swine. it takes a certain panache to pull it all off and make it seem comical and like nothing more than a simple commentary. a girl who works in the building with me tries her hardest to act like she's got it, but she doesn't. she lacks that total disquietude and complete irreverence to pull it off and she just comes off like someone who just complains and whines about everything. i'm not sure why she wants the aura to begin with, but girl doesn't got it and i think someone should really tell her before everyone she comes into contact with refers to her as "that annoying whiny girl."

9. there comes a point in everyone's life when they just can't party like they used to...or maybe they can but bastard maturity and wisdom actually make you sit down and outweigh the pros and cons rather than just doing it and dealing with the fallout later. with my ascent into this period of being i am proud to assert my place among the old folks of the world and hope, undeniably, that i may still act without thought in the future.

10. i understand people have their own political beliefs, and i also understand that people have reasons for their political beliefs no matter how unsubstantiated those reasons may be. i further admit that the democratic presidential primaries mean absolutely jack shit to me seeing as i'm, oddly enough, fairly conservative in my political views...but i have to say, the current state of the democratic bid for president scares the bajeezus out of me. i could care less that one is a woman and the other is a black man, and i won't even bother going into how the substance of their campaigns is a bit retarded because i realize i'm in no position to speak seeing as i am a conservative, but the overall tenacity of obama's supporters kind of ignites a fear in me. it's been pretty much proven that his speeches are plagiarized and yet people put their fingers in their ears to the old "la la la, i can't hear you" and zealously support away. there's a big difference between having someone write your speeches, and taking someone else's speech, don't you think? one, in theory, involves your own forethought while the other has nothing to do with what you think but rather has everything to do with what someone else thinks and you are taking credit for it and garnishing support from that other persons thoughts. it's bothersome, to me, that no one seems to give a shit that he's done this and/or is doing this. plagiarism is grounds to be thrown out of a university or fired, and yet it's perfectly okay for a potential future president to do it...yea, that makes total sense. really. meh.

you're up here with angels, you look like hell, i'm not going down with you now, bu baby you wear it so well.

2008-03-03T09:51:00.005-05:00

religion.

seems like such a bullshit thing, doesn't it? everyone waxes poetic about the need for religious tolerance, about the equality of all religions, about how no single religion precludes friendship or love, and even though we all claim to not care about the religious beliefs of someone else, we all sit with a smug superiority because no matter how non-religious we may be, we really do believe that our own religion is better.

me? i'm jewish. i rank up there among those people who are extremely proud to be jewish. i can laugh at my religion and its stereotypes of the big shnoz, being cheap, being short, being a nerd, and having horns [trust me, some countries still think jews have horns], but i also take it to heart when people deprecate or mock my religion. i admit to feeling a serenity that was completely unknown to me before i set foot in israel, and i'm content in knowing that, while roughly two percent of the world's population, jews remain in the realm of some of the most intellectual and brilliant people in the world.

you guessed it: i love being jewish

i think when you belong to something that is as defining as a religion you internalize its very essence, and i think when the mere definition of being a religion has been grounds for genocides, pogroms, and multiple attempts for world extermination, you go a step beyond and that essence attunes to your very mortality.

that harmony is something i don't think anyone can understand until someone attempts to take it away: it's only then that that smug superiority comes into play, and it's only then that people realize just how deep that religion runs within them.

cue my boyfriend.

the extent of his religious affiliation is christmas, which, to him, has nothing to do with jesus or christianity. nope, to him christmas is a holiday everyone can celebrate and enjoy, and is simply a time to be with family and the people we love. i have no problems with that--i spent the entire day with his family and i even put up a christmas tree so the house would be more festive for him.

he is also completely clueless when it comes to those lovely hot button issues and is completely inept when it comes to dealing with them in a delicate manner. after being with me for this long, he knows i'm proud of being jewish and he also knows that the idea of completely abandoning traditions to accommodate him and his religion is difficult for me; and, yet, he still has no problem with being a complete dick to me when i point out someone is jewish, or anything relating to judaism comes up anywhere.

oh, and before you actually go there and say that i have issues with him being catholic and want him to convert, the answer to your ideology, other than the traditional "fuck you," is "absolutely not." i've tried to compromise my ass off when it comes to religion, especially the religion of our non existent kids, but he's like a dog with a bone when it comes to it-he refuses to see things from my point of view at all and he absolutely refuses to exist in a world of gray. he thinks it should be all or nothing--full fledged judaism and christianity complete with baptism and bar mitzvah or we have no religion what-so-ever in the house.

case in point: saturday night, while he was looking through all the wedding shit i've found he found a checklist for the traditional jewish wedding. he read through it, out loud, asking me what certain things are, all the while making little jokes and poking fun at things and their pronunciation. then, he got to a yamaka, read it, looked at me, and said "i'm not wearing a fucking beanie on my head." "yes you are, why wouldn't you?" "i'm not jewish, why the fuck would i wear one?" so, while i launched into a diatribe of how wearing one is a sign of respect and really has nothing to do with being jewish, he effectively put his fingers in his ears and went off on me for not giving a shit about his religious beliefs and how i would never do anything out of respect for his religion. so, while he went on and on and one about how completely selfish and one sided i am, i took the dogs for a walk, and during my walk my thoughts went haywire:

is it always going to be like this?

am i signing up to spend the rest of my life arguing about religion and having someone who obviously could care less about my own religious standings continually making me feel like shit and like some sort of authoritarian simply because i'm proud of being jewish, i want elements of judiasm to not only be present at my wedding but to be present throughout my life, and because i want him, at the very least, to respect my desire to retain my beliefs and traditions much like he does?

what about when we have kids? is he going to go off anytime i bring up something jewish and have such an ongoing blatant disregard for my beliefs and my feelings and therefore parlay that sentiment onto our kids who will think its okay to do the same thing?

am i really being that selfish and one sided? am i being totally non-understanding of his point of view?

am i consenting to place every ounce of tradition and religion i was brought up with into a corner of my being for the rest of my life so as to keep the peace?

is this grounds for going our separate ways before we're legally bound, or am i going to start resenting and hating him for his black and white view of all things based in religion?

is he ever going to understand that being jewish extends farther than this ridiculous opinion he has that i have this stupid need to be different than everyone else and realize it's actually an integral part of who i am? will he one day wake up and realize that he's marrying someone who is jewish, and therefore is going to have elements of it in his life just like i'm going to have elements of christianity in mine?

are we ever going to find a happy medium?

i'm just a little girl you see, but there's a hell of a lot more to me. don't ever underestimate what i can do. don't tell me what i'm meant to be.

2008-02-28T05:35:00.002-05:00

in the journey of relationships there comes a point where good old comfort rears its ugly little head and things shift from a state of courteous and wrought with manners to farting continuously.

let's just get one thing straight: it's not me doing all the farting. i'm not "allowed" to because i'm a girl. nope. it's all him...and yes, i do curse the stars repeatedly not for making him "the one," but for making "the one" the single most gas ridden man in the entire world. and please be forewarned, i have a brother and a father who, individually, can definitely hold their own if not reign supreme in a battle of the proverbial cutting of the cheese.

so, all of this has led me to come up with a theory upon the notable differences between male and female flatulence. simply put, the theory is as follows: if men were forced to comply with the decorum women must, men wouldn't be so apt to let 'er rip.

i suppose i should explain.

women, from a very young age, have it drilled into their heads that girls must act a certain way. what is that way? well, like girls....little, dainty, flowery, frilly human beings who are filled with sugar and spice and everything nice...blah blah blah. basically, from the moment we're potty trained we're taught that girls don't fart, girls don't shit, girls don't do anything disgusting...and for some reason boys are told just that on top of the fact that boys are disgusting, vile, creatures.

compare the differences between a group of guys living together and a group of chicks..and lets say each group is comprised of good friends who have lived with each other for two years. both groups are chilling out and lounging in their respective living rooms watching tv, there are no guests over, and it's just a traditional lazy sunday [chronicles of narnia!]. now let's say that one member of each group, dick and bobby joe sue, respectively, has got a case of some horrible fucking gas.

bobby joe sue will sit there, ass clenched, letting the gas build up in side of her until she can't hold it anymore. at that moment, she will get up...she will go to her designated bathroom [admit it, there is one bathroom you absolutely love and use as exclusively as possible], where she will then let loose...and, because as we all know a fart is simply the cry of a trapped terd, she will most likely have turned the faucet on. she will shit as quickly as possible, and will return to her spot in the living room as if nothing happened. if she, completely by accident, let one slip...the rest of the ovarian squad will glance at her with the infamous woman death-stare...or, they will act like nothing has happened at all, which really is worse than the death-stare because it just compels the air of embarrassment to thicken that much more.

dick will sit there and sound off like a machine gun. his ass will bear resemblance to a scene from any vietnam war film or documentary. he will revel in his stench, and his friends will laugh uncontrollably. he will then put his ass right in front of another guys face, and expel the most noxious and thunderous poot from his bunghole that has yet to occur, all the while laughing like a school girl.

i know i'm babbling on a bit and doing a huge circumlocution...but, see the difference? the penis-clad mongrels of the world grow up stewing in their own brew with nothing but minimal social constraints limiting the marination; whereas women develop what can only be described as the most toned and tight sphincters of the world.

if men were required to learn a little sphincter control and weren't constantly told that "boys will be boys" as they sit around and launch sensory grenades, perhaps, when the time came that they were around a woman and felt comfortable, they wouldn't drop ass without hesitation or apology only to say "it's natural."

it wouldn't be "natural" if i were to sit there and drop ass..no, that would rank up there with one of the most vile things he has ever experienced. nope...it's not natural for him to sit there and hold it so he can get bloated...it's not natural for him to take a gasx...and it's really not natural for him to get his ass up and walk to the bathroom, but it's natural for me to do all of the above, all because girls don't fart.

i demand we change these bastard social perceptions and rise up, oh women folk of the world and shirk this shroud of sugar and spice and everything nice...let us unite and fart with the freedom and lackadaisical frame of mind with which men do. let our gas finally be deemed equal!

or lets just stop letting them let go without a ball tap and an ass smack.

either, or...fine with me. and yes, i am well aware that i'm delirious from lack of sleep. very well aware.

i'm giving up because i know everything sucks and this won't be the last time you'll hear me complain.

2008-02-25T20:11:00.000-05:00

i just spent..well, more like wasted...over three hours yelling at some dumb fuck at another corporation that clearly doesn't seem to understand what and whom he is dealing with as far as the company i work for is concerned and clearly has no clue about how stubborn, bitchy, and all around shitty i really am...and he really doesn't give a fuck about any of that, why?

he's got a juris doctorate degree, a contractual draft, and the iq of the typical lawyer.

a strange thing happened when i graduated from law school...that strange thing being that i realized i'm way better at this than most people and, as my boss so generously pointed out, that fact rests gently on the shoulders of the simple fact that i don't think/speak/act like a lawyer.

law school basically swipes your hard drive of any inquisitive and distinguishing features you may have in your thought processes in an effort to teach you how to "think like a lawyer." they fill your head with the notion that attorneys serve a critical purpose to societies well being and without us the world as we know it would run itself into an anarchaic state of blah.

sure, laws are important, but in all the shpeels of self importance, in all the talks of the virtuousity of being an attorney, in all the lectures where in professors would spout of how much more intelligent and skilled lawyers are than those piddily common folk and therefore lawyers must always boil things down to layman's terms so those poor little common folk can understand the comlicated workings of what it is lawyers do....in all of that bullshit, no one really mentioned the fact that the need for lawyers is purely self created.

lawyers make laws which require lawyers to do certain things, and lawyers are the ones who enforce such laws. you may think it's the police, but all they are doing is ensuring that prosecutors and defense attorneys have jobs.

law school made lawyers out to be on the same level as a medical doctor, but the huge distinction between a lawyer and a doctor is that the need for doctors is created by forces wholly outside the medical field, and lawyers systematically create societies need for them. perhaps law schools should have professors hand out a yellow pages, flip through it to see how many fucking lawyers there are and, rather then sit there and say how wonderful and amazing lawyers are, say "if you don't want to be like them and have to take out an ad in a yellow pages, don't lose yourself and follow the herd."

i really think that if the entire profession would just get over themselves already and admit that they aren't the pinnacle of intelligence and an integral asset to society, the profession, as a whole, would go up a few notches in the respect meter. self respect is great, but there really does come a point when the only respect a profession has is self generated and that is just pathetic. you here that you self piteous attorneys? the legal profession is at a level of pathetic not even perez hilton has reached [yet]--at least he admits to garnishing his "fame" and "fortune" from belittling the very people who gave it to him, why can't you?

maybe then i wouldn't have to waste my time with dealing with douchebags that cling to their law degree and the sheep-like lawyer mentality rather than taking the dick out of his ass, using it to clean out his ears, and listening to the words coming out of my mouth.

maybe i'm to strong to let go, maybe i'm to weak to let it show, maybe i'm to stubborn to say no, whatever the case i can't take it no more

2008-02-24T23:37:00.005-05:00

here's the deal: i'm not here, you never saw me.
we clear?

good.

it's not to say i'm not back, or here, or whatever...it's mostly just to say i'm here for the moment, and i know it's mostly to say...eh, fuck it. i'm sure no one even bothers to check this place out anymore..and quite understandably so...it died, like a tasty little flan in a cupboard....a flan with a creme fraiche and fruits on top....mmmm

pardon that slip. nothing makes you avoid putting anything into your mouth like wedding dress shopping. i look like jessica rabbit in most of them, it's really an amazing thing to see...really.

anyway, i guess i should provide some sort of update, huh? let's see: i moved to new jersey for a job...i'm getting married....and that about covers it.

i'm no closer to accepting myself, liking myself, or really even tolerating myself...and though i'm extremely happy [most of the time] in the love department, i'm pretty much the same old bitch who's comprised of two diametrically opposed personalities that's going absolutely bat shit crazy trying to figure out how to placate one side without driving the other side into a fit of rage and vice versa....now the only upside is that i have a dude that constantly points out how big of a spazz i am and is generally getting the shit end of the stick when one side isn't very happy.

lately, the portion of me that thrives on vagaries has been driving me nuts, and i have to admit fairly rightfully so: i have no outlets. none. i wake up at 4am, i work out, i work from 6:30am to 8pm, i come home, i eat dinner, and i go to sleep..and my weekends are pretty much occupied with trying to plan this bastard wedding and looking for a home to buy. pretty much everything i've done for the past few months has been methodical and real-world driven...there's nothing whimsical or fun about any of it. don't get me wrong, i have fun looking at houses and doing my job etc, but there's a point in all of those aforementioned activities where the humor and imagination stop because there's a huge wall of good-old reality obstructing the view of the other side.

point blank: the creative side of me is going ape shit for something..anything..that has no road blocks, that's void of rules and requirements, that has no necessity and purpose, that lets me do me in the most pure and unadulterated way possible.

the other thing is that i'm pretty much stuck in the sense the only people i have to talk to are my hubby-to-be, my family, and my co-workers...and obviously, there are just some things that you can't talk about to them, and let's face it..co-workers are in that category of people who exist in that realm of "need to know" with regard to what information they get about the ol' personal life.

it's not like i can sit down, look into his gorgeous blues and say "my day was good, but while i was driving to work this morning and stuck in traffic a song came on and i had this uncontrollable urge to cry because i'm petrified you're making a huge mistake in marrying me because i'm not sure you can make me happy or if i can ever really be happy."

sure, you should be able to talk to your partner about everything..but just cause you should be able to doesn't mean you really should exercise that option whenever the mood strikes you....and i'm fairly sure preying on the underlying insecurities of someone you love would justify abstaining and keeping your fucking mouth shut.

so, i suppose that brings me here. i've got no one but my family and my betrothed to talk to and interact with..and in a culmination of how completely and truly pathetic the social and creative workings of my life have become, i'm here.

for now.

good riddance, though i'm sorry to say

2007-05-11T09:29:00.000-04:00

i thought i could continue to do this...but, the reality is that i can't.

it's not even that i can't...i just have no real desire to at all.

i have two shiny new degrees that tell the world i may just be successful, i have an intuition that has kicked shit into overdrive and is forcing me to pursue paths that i could only dream of in the past, and i have a boyfriend--yea, i said it--who i adore and really do love--yea, i said that too.

maybe i've grown out of blogging...maybe i've grown up...maybe i no longer need some virtual verification of my self worth...maybe i no longer need that that verification, period...maybe i'm actualizing my desire to shift my life from complacent onlooking to sprightly participation...maybe i just don't need this type of outlet anymore.

who the fuck cares.

i'm done with this.

i do want to thank all of you for being wonderful, supportive, and absolutely smashing specimens of humanity. i also want to say that should anything i have said in this little piece of shit on the web caused you to lose respect for or has caused you to think of me, the author, whom you know so little about, in a less than positive way...well? you can go fuck yourself.

and with that, i say:

it's been emotional.

a drop falls upon my face and the journey resembles a river utting a rock and that rock makes up my heart. i need someone to come help me.

2007-05-04T11:25:00.000-04:00

1. [sarcasm] i love construction. love, love, love. [/sarcasm] not only is an entire half of a street ripped up for miles upon miles, but the result of that ripping has created none other than a mud pit that has made fucking the decree of the orange cones and fencing and walking straight through damn near impossible. to add to this awesomeness, they are now starting construction on the facade of my school which means the entire grassy area my dog [and all the dogs in my apartment building] use to shit and piss to their merry delight is now fenced off completely. it also makes it impossible for me to walk to class because they blocked off the only way to get from euclid to the law building with the aforementioned fence. now, instead of walking around just construction i get the joy of walking around the entire fucking building's construction and the biggest fuck-up cleveland's transportation department has yet to undertake to get to the library to enter the building, to climb six flights of stairs, to be able to access any class rooms. FANTASTIC! [sarcasm] construction=intelligence, for cereal y'all!! [/sarcasm]

2. nothing is more attractive than watching someone snot rocket. seriously. what could possibly beat watching someone shoot a stream of snot out of their nose because god forbid they use a tissue, or, wait 'til they can use a tissue to effectively clear their nasal cavity. the attractiveness is only amplified when the stream of snot being shot out of someones nostril lands right back on them.

3. apparently hating yourself enough to literally kill yourself with insane amounts of working out and limiting your amount of food intake drastically to loose enough weight to so that you're mildly okay with your body but not nearly okay enough to be comfortable with it does not go without it's consequences...well, other than, arguably, your health. somehow four chicks that "go" to my gym--conveniently the same four chicks who are coincidentally dating the guys i train with--asked me to help them loose weight. how i'm going to do this i really have no idea. it's not like i can go in there and say "look ladies...you have to basically do some form of a work out in every second of your spare time, and when you think of food..you have to find something to replace that urge all but two times a day...for me, it was smoking and gum chewing..for you? well, you decide." i may have to just completely back out of this "honor."

3. i'm okay with the fact i have take-home finals...i'm just not really understanding why we have to check out the test and have a set time frame to do them. why not just make it due the day that specific class was scheduled for a test? would make life a lot easier, no? not to mention giving us seventy-two hours from the time we pick up the exam to complete the exam is totally superfluous...i mean seriously, twenty-four hours is probably more than enough time. who does this shit before the last minute? honestly!

4. a new company has apparently bought the building i live in, which doesn't really matter much to me; however, they are going through every apartment in the building to assess undocumented damage etc...also, not a huge, huge deal...except for the fact i have an "illegal cat". say it with me: fuck.

5. speaking of the aforementioned "illegal cat"...she now has the premier kitty litter box. yes, that's right, she has the ultimate in kitty shitboxes: the cat genie. i have to admit, it's pretty bomb ass...and i've had to fight the urge to piss in it just for shits in giggles....the only problem is i had to turn the water pressure on the guest toilet all the way up and am now petrified to flush that toilet. to add insult to injury, my puppy--who happens to sleep in the guest shower [no, seriously..she sleeps in the actual shower]--is petrified of the machine when it runs. this shall be interesting...but at least my apartment will no longer have a hue of kitty litter stench. wahoooozie!

6. the lease on my beloved hailey--a 2004 civic ex--is up in august, which puts me in a position to beg my father to get me a new car...and yes, i'm well aware that makes me sound like a complete fucking brat but it's either he shells out cash to buy my civic [which i make the lease payments for, mind you], or he can help me lease another car. i love hailey, she's a fantastic car...but taking into consideration that i have a dog and that plowing it purely optional downtown--and conveniently an option they choose against--it would be nice to have a car that was better suited to the shitty city of cleve. i mean, honestly...it's not that i don't adore having my car stall every time she has to traverse more than two inches of snow...and it's certainly not that i don't love having sofie sitting next to me in the passenger seat all the while sticking her head out the sunroof, standing on my thighs so i can't see the fucking road, getting her snot all over the dashboard, and forcing me to do the soccer-mom arm every time i break and turn...it's just that..well? i don't love it. so, my sights are now set on the audi a3. i'm not crazy about how it looks...and i know it's not going to help my i-don't-want-to-ever-be-a-soccer-mom cause, but it's all wheel drive, has a trunk for strategic sofie placement purposes, comes in a six-speed manual, and is fairly reasonably priced. wish me luck, my beloved heschers, in my endeavor to convince my dad that nothing says "happy 25th birthday e! we love you" better than this car.

7. i have outright determined that living in my apartment is totally ridiculous. why? because there is no possible way for me to open my windows. aside from the fact that i can't open them because they have no screens, which means everything outside is now inside my apartment and my cat who remains inside will be outside my apartment, i can't even fucking open the goddamn windows to begin with. i'm serious...i physically can't open the bitches. i tried yesterday...numerous times...just to slightly crack them open to get a bit of a breeze in my apartment and it just wasn't fucking happening. so, while it is a perfect sixty degrees outside with a nice breeze...i'm sitting in my apartment with the air conditioning on. sucks balls.

8. for anyone who is interested in working out at home and still getting a fan-fuckin-tastic work-out, may i introduce to you ms. jari love. she's about as entertaining as a piece of toast, but the work out is awesome. it's circuit training, in a matter of speaking, and i was sweating my balls off after the first five minute interval. i've only done the work-out five times in the past two weeks, but i can see results and am definitely more toned. it's pretty fuckin' sweeeeeeeeeeeeet!

9. people always look at me like i'm a fucking freak when i casually say "i hate my birthday," and i really have no idea why. for starters...it's just a fucking day. that's it, another day in the year...so, what's the big deal? "ohh, it's the day you were born! it's your day!".....okay, and? it's not my day....it's other people's day to make about me, and that adds to my birthday loathing as well. last year my birthday present was getting side swiped by a semi truck, totalling my car, breaking my ribs, having to rent a car, and driving sixteen hours to spend three hours in the office....see what this years has in store for me, outside of another reminder of how disassociated i've become.

10. i'm not sure how, but ryan must have preyed on me in a moment of absolute weakness--and by weakness i mean drunkenness or being drugged up on benadryl/ambien/tylenol/marijuana--and somehow he convinced me to join match.com with him. eh, least i don't have to pay for it..but still, total waste of money on his part. anyway, they have a chemistry test you're required to take and i found it rather interesting because it does seem to suit me in a matter of speaking...not to mention it's totally flattering and that makes me feel warm and fuzzy on the side because i'm tired of feeling like the bad guy lately:

You are an EXPLORER/negotiator

You are a highly spontaneous person who always likes to try new things. Novel and unpredictable situations don't bother you; instead you find them challenging and exciting. You tend to be focused and resourceful and you are able to juggle a lot of projects at the same time; as a result you are sometimes a whirlwind of activity.

You have a firm grip on reality and enjoy living in the present tense. But you have a keen imagination that enables you to lift off from time and space to be remarkably creative.

You are humorous. You are able to laugh at yourself, and you like entertaining others.
You have a deep sense of compassion. You can show genuine insight into the needs of others; you are good at listening and talking; and you express a genuine desire to be helpful.

Yet you are easy-going. Your tolerance for others and their beliefs, your lack of prejudice, your ability to compromise and your occasional antics make you popular with others and a great companion.

How Your Personality Breaks Down

Explorer - 30% of your personality: Known for high energy, high creativity and spontaneity. Seeks novelty, risk, and pleasure. Intellectually curious and not easily swayed by opinion.

Builder- 21% of your personality: Usually very popular. Deep attachment to home and family. Clam demeanor and low anxiety. Often consistent, loyal and protective.

Negotiator- 26% of your personality: Excels at seeing the pig picture, long-term planning and consensus building. An intuitive thinker who is flexible, verbal and socially skilled. Imaginative, empathetic and nurturing.

Director- 21% of your personality: Daring, original, direct and inventive. A non conformist. Skilled at abstract thinking and short-term planning. Often assertive and quite competitive. Tough-minded and efficient.

have a good weekend guys.

have i still got you to be my open door? have i still got you to cross my bridge in the storm? have i still got you to keep me warm?

2007-05-01T00:13:00.000-04:00

it sometimes amazes me the way my family seems to work.

no, i don't mean the way my family and i always seem to be at diametrically opposed positions on completely antithetical spectrums....rather, i mean how things always seem to happen in rapid succession.

my grandmother [my momma's mom] died on december twenty-first in nineteen ninety-six after battling multiple myeloma for four years....which was exactly three years and nine months longer than any doctor gave her to live when she was diagnosed....meanwhile, exactly nine months later my other grandmother [my daddy's mom] decided that handicapped was no way to live, and neither was being completely unable to to do anything for yourself...so, using the chord of an iron she took it upon herself to do g-d's work. you can assume from there.

rather odd that things happened in such a way. nine months, and then next...you know?

what's more odd is that my grandfather [my daddy's dad] decided it was his time to go on february fourteenth and that no matter what the cost it was going to happen that day. unfortunately, that cost was my mother--who fought with him for the gun, and who my father literally had to scream at--over the phone no less--to leave my grandfather because he swore he'd shoot her so long as it meant he got to shoot himself....so, she left...and she got to see the whole thing, and my dad got to hear the whole thing. not cool.

for some reason i think my grandmother told him to do it and literally possessed him...otherwise they couldn't be together again...and i know that's crazy talk...but you never know. everything about the situation goes against the basic grain and personality of my grandfather and coincides perfectly with my grandmother...including the disregard for my own mother's life.

what can i say...i believe in spirits.

anyway, both my father's parents committed suicide and that's some crazy shit...but that's not what i find so odd. what i find inexplicably odd is that my other grandfather [my momma's daddy] passed away on april twenty-sixth.

that's each set of grandparent going immediately after the other...and that? that is odd.

my parents are now both orphans...and an entire generation is now absent in my family.

what's more strange is that i'm much more heartbroken over my mother's parents deaths than i am over my father's parents deaths...and i'm not sure if that has to do with the fact that i grew up with my mother's parents, or if it stems from the way that my father's parents decided to take their leave...but when i was fourteen and i had a dream with my grandmother looking extremely young but with empty eyes telling me to tell my mother that she's okay and that she is happy, and then woke up to my father telling me that we have to go to florida because grandma passed away...i was heartbroken.

it was the same heartbroken i felt last thursday when my brother told me that grandpa passed away.

i was my grandfather's favorite grandchild....hands down...he let everyone know....and that sentiment was completely mutual. i looked forward to every weekend when i would spend the night at their place...i would look forward to all the times he would come over and babysit me because my brother and parents were going out where little ones weren't allowed. i loved the times we spent deep sea fishing on his tiny boat and how proud he was of me for catching a fish...even if it was a fucking dog fish. and, if anything, i owe my greenish eyes and dark skin tone to my grandfather...thanks to him, i know i'm not the milkman's child.

i admired how proud he was, i respected his work ethic, i adored his ability to take absolutely nothing and build a masterpiece out of it, and i thank him for teaching me what conviction is.

sadly, i couldn't go to the funeral because, in a matter of speaking, when my grandmother died, he died...he moved back to latvia, and that's where he is and there's no way i can go on account of having finals [fucking school...always fucking up my life]...and it's been six years since i've seen him last.

it's hard not being able to say goodbye to someone properly, it's even more hard not to be able to pay your respects to them, but on saturday night i opened my eyes at five in the morning to see a women with long flowing hair that vaguely looked like my mother, and a man standing behind her.

i may have been dreaming, i may be schizophrenic....i may just be delusional...but for some reason i don't have to question who it was: it was my grandmother and grandfather coming to see me. they were happy, they were free....and more importantly, they were together.

i'm glad he went peacefully, i'm glad he wasn't in pain, and i'm glad he's finally happy again.

i always assumed that my grandparents would be at my wedding...that they would spoil the shit out of my own children...they they would be around forever.

i was wrong.

i just hope they know how much i love them.

and maybe i'm all locked up inside and maybe my tongue is always tied, but when the devil dances next to me i don't give a shit what you believe.

2007-04-30T09:59:00.000-04:00

this cracks me up:

'cos i'm a brat, and i know everything and i talk back, and i'm not listening to anything you say.

2007-04-25T10:32:00.000-04:00

i'm a bit of a glutton for the mighty online quiz. we're not just talking online iq tests and personality tests, but also shit that tells you what percentage masterbator you are and actually rates your gaydar. thus, it comes as no real surprise that i joined okcupid...i mean it's free, there's tons of tests, and the worst thing that can happen is i get an e-mail from someone who isn't a total moron...which is wishful thinking to begin with.

anyway, i did get an e-mail from a guy who was moving to cleveland from los angeles...which is something that is vaguely familiar to me seeing as i pretty much made that same trek three years ago. we e-mailed back and forth a bit, chit chatted on instant messenger a bit, and no where in that time did i hide the fact that i was seeing boytoy, and no where in that time did i express the desire to go out and get my date-on with anyone other than boytoy.

that leads me to sometime last week when said guy, whom we shall now refer to as el-douch-o, and i were talking and he was teasing me about how i'm going to marry boy-toy and i expressed my uncertainty concerning boytoy and i making it much past the weekend...but never mentioned why, which was because we had hit a rough patch and i was at my wits end as to how to solve things without having an actual confrontation...because, for as fiesty and shitty as i am...i really do hate talking about my feelings and making people i care about feel less than fan-fuckin-tastic.

he pretty much shut me down, then followed up his desire for me not to "dump" on him with the completely casual phrase "well, you're a waste of time aren't you?"...so, i figured that was the end of our conversation, muttered "hah, asshole" under my breath and went on my merry way. no real loss on my part...it's not like i knew the guy in anyway, and it's not like i gave a shit if he talked to me or not.

but, there's always more. so, when i wake up on saturday and check my myspace e-mail there's a message sitting there from el-douche-o. goody goody gum drops! the e-mail read as follows:

Elle,

Normally I would never do this but since you were (usually) nice to me and taught me a few things about CLE I will. Consider yourself lucky. You may learn something. I get the impression that you’re looking for a guy friend. The reason why girls befriend guys (that they haven’t fucked/had realtionships with) is that they don’t find them attractive. So to me that’s a waste of my time. I have other tail to chase. I don’t need a girl to cry on my shoulder and whine about her b/f problems to me. Especially since I’m normally that guy who other girls whine and cry to others about.

Anyway, you did seem vaguely interesting. Your looks are ok but your attitude and style interested me a whole lot more. Too bad. Might have been fun to go on a date with you. Nothing special mind you, just a normal date. Oh well. Your loss. Not mine really. Good luck and I hope someday you find happiness or whatever the hell it is you’re looking for. Later.

MG

i read it and had the most confused and "what the fuck?"-ish face ever, according to my friend who was sitting next to me. i know i always go out of my way to e-mail someone an explanation for why i think they're a waste of time in my opinion, especially when i don't consider the loss mine in any which way.

riiiiiiight.

so, never one to not at least get a jab in, i e-mailed him back:

Mark,

Normally I wouldn't do this either but you seem disturbingly unaware of how things seem to work in a realistic sense. I consider myself lucky because I have four best friends--who are all male, mind you--who adore me, love me, and who are there for me no matter what and no matter where I find myself. I also have a wonderful family--so, in reality, I have no real reason to go out of my way to make a "male friend" so I have a shoulder to cry on--so, you were wrong on that count.

Now, you may learn something-so pay attention. I get the impression you think that simply conversing with someone in a purely internet forum entitles you to have some kind of date with the individual you're talking to, wholly disregarding the fact that the basis of any relationship--dating or not--is getting to know someone and judging from there. I'm sorry if you honestly thought you had a shot of getting something more than verbage from me, but I suppose that goes to your "waste of time" postulation about the entire situation. Obviously upon talking to you online I was supposed to make my life 3,000 miles away completely stop and sit around in eager anticipation for your arrival and our subsequent date. I'm also orry that at the ripe old age of twenty-nine you are still so fucking jaded that you can't see past your own insecurities and bullshit experiences to not simply pass someone off as a "waste of time" because you can't immediately hope into the saddle and get right to dating. I'm even more sorry that you honestly think you were being a big, kind-hearted person by going supposedly out of your way to e-mail me your bullshit excuse for the way things work in this world, and honestly thinking you could actually teach me something in that deleterious diatribe.

Wait, I take that back. You did teach me something-you're inconsiderate, selfish, washed out, and egotistical--all the things I absolutely loath in people. I didn't find you attractive, but at least I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt in every sense of the phrase, unlike you who cast me away as a waste of your time simply because I'm seeing someone at the moment.

I would wish you good luck in your journey to find someone who is enough of a dullard to put up with you, but it seems you've already found yourself and you're in love.

Don't bother replying.
-E

i swear...i'm a douchebag magnet.

_________**UPDATE**__________

a "reply" e-mail from el-douche-o with the subject line: "Nice fuckign blog entry bitch"--which, no doubt, further proves that i'm the one with the issues, the insecurities, and the one who bears the loss.

Elle,

Oops I bothered. You really left me no choice. I always get the last jab. Hey I’m kind of sorry I hurt you. I might even feel kind of guilty about it. Obviously, it bothered you a lot since you FUCKING POSTED IT ON YOUR BLOG! Yes I’m a step above the retards and plankton you probably date or fuck. I’m smart and I’m cunning, much wiser than you could ever hope to be. Once again you’ve proved that lawyers aren’t necessarily wise.

I wasn’t trying to give you a bullshit excuse. I really did enjoy talking to you. You do have some awesome qualities that I really like but you’re also Jewish. I did learn something. Date one large breasted, neurotic, unstable, Russian/Jewish chick you’ve pretty much dated them all. You have so much in common with one of my ex’s I wouldn’t be surprised if you two were related. And I’ll be damned if make that fucking mistake again. Unlike you, I learn from my shitty relationships.

As far as insecurities go, I really don’t have any. Admittedly I’m bitter after living in flaky so cal for so damn long (Note: I lived in Orange County, not LA, bitch). But I’m hardly insecure. As far as your male friends go, don’t be so naïve. Guys are only interested in one thing and you should know quite well what that is. If you disagree with me try calling one of them, flirt, and ask if he’ll come over and pound you tonight. Most likely he’ll be ringing the doorbell before you hang up the phone. Anyway, I know I’m easy to talk to but it does get old when everyone brings/dumps all their problems on me.

You may joke about putting off your life for someone 3,000 miles away but my last serious g/f did just that. Might have worked out too. But I turned my back on her. Hmmm kind of like I did to you. Anyway, I do give you props for pissing me off in ways that only my ex-g/f’s have. You truly are one cold, evil Jewish/Russian bitch.

MG

haha!! i love it when people have no idea who i am and how i operate...i also love that he still manages to put himself up higher on a pedestal while trying to berrate me in some way that's wholly unknown to me. i'm sure he'll read this, seeing as he finds me a total waste of time and has no intention of ever talking to me again yet still reads my blog...so to him i shall say: you're truly pathetic..but, honestly? thanks for the laugh..i'm near tears over here. woo! i needed that.

i'll be the switch he turns on, i'll be his too--i'll get off. i'll be the fuse that he blows, and even with the lights off we'll glow.

2007-04-22T00:36:00.000-04:00

let's have a little discussion about embarrassing, shall we?

boytoy...whom i suppose i should refer to as my boyfriend but i'm not too keen on doing so and thus boytoy he shall remain...

right, so boytoy and i, we've been in a bit of a rough patch. it's to be expected when you have two people who are staunch commitment-phobes, and, of course, leave it to me to go for the guy who's never been in any form of a real relationship that's lasted past a few weeks...so, yes...i was expecting a bumpy road. said bumpy road came to a head on thursday night, and i think we're attempting to partake in what is dubbed the "smooth sailing" portion of our april. he will attempt to deviate slightly from the "i'll do what i want, when i want" ideology, and i got the verbage i needed that signaled to my little feeble female mind that this is a bit more than casual and some pretty fuckin sweet sex.

regardless, i agreed to help him build his boat's trailer on friday night...so, being the total fucking spineless fuck i am who constantly feels guilty for making people feel less than bomb-ass even when there was nothing really wrong with what happened/was done on my part... i decided it would be a great idea to do something special.

what was that something special, i hear you ask?

well! let me tell you.

it involved me, my louis vuitton raincoat, and a picnic basket of food.

yup. smart little me decided to wear nothing more than a raincoat and stilettos over to see him [sorry, but the idea of having sex on his desk was just too good to pass up, and i brought clothes to put on afterwards so i could get to painting and pneumatic tool operation], and bring him a tasty din-din.

not really a big deal, and i didn't think it was either...i thought it was a cute little thing to do...especially given the amount of "discussing" we've done in the past few weeks...so, i implemented my idea without thinking of any possible repercussions.

yup, i got blessed with a quaint little sobriety checkpoint on the way to his office...yup, my raincoat was barely covering my cooter up. [thank god i shaved..phew]..yup, the cop noticed that fact very quickly...and yup...my face was the most violent hue of red a human can turn.

i did pass the sobriety test with flying colors...and the cop winked at me with a sort of. psycho-stalker smirk and said "you have one very lucky boyfriend" before he let me pass...but jesus christ, talk about fucking embarassing.

thus, i advise you all: if you want to surprise your man/woman/it/thing with a little sumthin' sumthin and that sumthin' sumthin' requires you to have nothing more than a single layer of clothing separating you in all your nekkid glory from the rest of the world...be sure to check and make sure there are no mandatory police stops on your merry way, and if there are--eschew, eschew, eschew.

my silver lining, at least, is that we did it on his desk, in the office kitchen, on one of the warehouse work tables, and then again before bed. shaaaawing!

i don't know why you always have to question my heart, and it's so much easier to stay far apart then get close just to be told i'm not good enough.

2007-04-19T00:58:00.000-04:00

i had my first mental break down this past weekend and let me tell you it was a smashing good time. i cried, i wallowed, i flipped out, and i seriously think i freaked out the random spirit that i'm convinced lives in my apartment

hey, you may think i'm nuts...but i will get digustingly frigid at the most random times, and other people in my place have noticed the random freezes as well.

anyway, i held out for nearly twenty fives years, so i suppose that's rather good....and well? that's enough about that.

enjoy my ugly mug courtesy of none other than a webcam. w00t.

might as well start scrap booking my complete fall from sanity, huh?

love's strings have attached to me, but i'm not sure who i'm supposed to be when the puppet master's ignoring me and prasing you constantly.

2007-04-14T00:41:00.000-04:00

i hate being unsure, i despise uncertainty, and yet here i am with both adjectives glaringly present in my day-to-day.

it would be magical if there was a crystal ball you could look into and have your entire life told to you. it would be surreal to waltz through life with the finer things in live being the only enigma. it would be fantastic if there was no guess work involved with this proverbial game of life.

it would be easy.

too easy.

so, instead, we get to sit and ponder, and plan, and become inherently involved with the intricate details of our life that pan out to be an absolute nonentity in the grand scheme of things, because just when you think you have shit figured out and you think things are going to go your way, a tempest of inconceivable proportions comes and knocks it all to fucking hell.

it kind of begs the question: what's the point of dreaming? why have aspirations? if the only thing that results is a broken heart, a bridled spirit, and a enigmatic explosion in the self defeat and self loathing sectors, why fucking bother?

there's so little variation, there's too many complications, there's so much desperation it's wafting and everything reeks of mephitic melancholy and hopelessness. it's to the point where the lulls between the storms just aren't long enough to let you forget, and the affliction becomes so commonplace that it's starting to feel like home.

home is where the heart is. my heart is a bleeding, unconsolable mess.

i lay each sleepless night and click my heels together in the hopes that maybe i'll find that one place that is like no place i've been...a place that's brilliant and scintillant. instead i roll over and stare at twenty-five years of static emotion that's packed so tight i think i'll explode, but instead i implode, destroy, and exhaust myself.

i'll never be what you want...i'll never be what i've convinced myself i want...i'll never be what i truly want...and it's killing me.

i don't deserve to be happy.

in my dreams i'm dying all the time, then i wake to my kaleidascopic mind. i never meant to hurt you, i never meant to lie..but this is goodbye.

2007-04-07T16:55:00.000-04:00

before we start...yes, i'm well aware that i'm sucking at this blogging thing. it's like riding a bike, i just need a few run arounds to get into the swing of things again.

that, and it's finals time...and it's also snowing. definately feels like april.

anyway...on with the proverbial show.

last weekend marked the first "fight" that the boy-i-am-dating-but-refuse-to-admit-it's-anything-serious-and-shall-hereafter-ever-be-called-boytoy had. i say "fight" because i'm really not much of a fighter when it comes to matters of my heart and/or feelings. i'd pretty much rather roll over and play dead than have to actually voice the goings-on in my head.

basically, i was rather pissed that he didn't talk to me all weekend. we never made definitive plans, but he was planning on spending the night saturday and, thus, i planned accordingly. he never called...and with regard to the plans we had on sunday, he said "well, i'll feel like shit if i don't go, but if i do go, it's only because i'll feel guilty for not going so i'm screwed either way."--can you say ouch? so fine, i did things on my own...left him alone. he called later sunday night, and made me talk.

he made me talk about what was bothering me, what he did wrong, and what he could do to fix it.

it turns out he just had a horrible day at work on saturday and didn't want to deal with anyone [read: me]...and i flat out told him to just tell me that in the future, rather than just not bother talking to me at all. if he wants alone time, i'm completely okay with that and more than understanding of that.

so fine. we achieved resolution...he will do me the justice of explaining why he will now ignore me, i will do him the justice of smiling, nodding, and not giving him shit over it.

righteous.

this brings me to last night. he came over, which is always cool with me. he watched the baseball game, i went to pick up sofie, i came back to make dinner, and he puts on golfing. c'mon now people...who the fuck actively watches golf? so, i said "there's no way in fuck i'm watching golf."...and he said "well you don't have to watch it. you're not watching it i am."

excuse me? you're sitting on my couch, in my apartment, watching my tv...and you're going to tell me what the fuck is going to be played on that tv? why the fuck did you come over if all you wanted to do is your own fucking thing?

did i say that? 'course not. i just shook my head and continued cooking...and let him choose whatever the fuck we watched and i did it with the greatest of indifference...which irked the shit out of him. complacency never worked so well.

then, later that night...after he got his, i got fairly close, and we both had a fairly good time...we started talking about the future.

we always talk about our future...and i'm sure most women would be ecstatic to hear them being factored into the dude's future, but i'm not a huge fan on it....mostly because it leads to me getting pissed off...because we're both stubborn but i'll be amenable to keep the peace.

i especially get pissy when he starts getting into how we'll raise our children. he's catholic, i'm jewish...he wants absolutely no religion...but we can celebrate channukah and christmas.....and when i bring up the possibility of having a brisk, or a bar/bat mitzvah...he gets huffy, and puffy. basically, it's an all or nothing thing with him....either we do all of the catholic and jewish shit...or we do none of it, and to me that's absolute bullshit.

but my thoughts on his take are neither here nor there, why? because we don't have kids...we aren't married...we haven't even been dating 6 months....or much over 2 months at that. why do we have to talk about it? why do we have to discuss it?

why do i have to sit there and figure out how to explain that i want to expose my children to judaism, not for the religious aspects of it, but because more than three-quarters of my family died for simply being jewish...not being religious or practicing. how do i tell him that their deaths seem in vain to me if i throw my hands up and say "okay" to throwing everything with a religious overtone outside of christmas and channukah completely out the window?

regardless..i'm dismissing most of my anger as the sum of being on the diet from hell for a week, the full moon, and ovulation and subsequent leaking.

but...why do we have to discuss it anyway?!

i swear, though...if he brings it up again i'm going to ball tap him.

i'm in the court of the elite exposing my fleshy parts. maybe the king'n'queen of hearts will let me in their royal flush and the cards'll read my way

2007-03-29T12:12:00.000-04:00

so, i've been gone for a few weeks...and it was a refreshing few weeks, let me tell you...not that blogging is something that i worry about or that i'm obligated to do...but, it was nice having one less thing on my plate to deal with.

and lets face it...we all sort of feel obligated to keep at it, no? okay...maybe it is just me.

regardless...here's a little update of what's been going on in my wee little shit-tastic life

1. i joined a band...and than i got kicked out of said band. perhaps saying "kicked out" is taking things a bit to far, seeing as the fuckers never even did me the courtesy of telling me i was out; rather, i wrote an e-mail explaining how it felt like they didn't want me in, and they never even bothered to speak to or negate that little feeling i had. can you feel the respect? i know i'm out because i asked for my pa system back and they told me when i could pick it up. i don't even care that i'm out per se...i mean, yea, it fucking sucks a big one...especially 'cause i have no fucking clue why i'm out, but i do care that people have such a lack of respect for others. it's not like i'm some random bitch, i actually spent two months hanging out with and working with these guys and i did put a lot of effort into writing what they wanted, even if i thought it was ghey as shit. o-well. off to the next project, right?

2. i actually am dating a guy right now. isn't that fucking shocking? yes, i too fear the apocalypse given that fact. regardless, i've been seeing him for a little over a month or so now..and things are going pretty well. he's by far the sweetest guy i've dated...which really isn't saying much come to think of it, but, a few examples are in order, right?

the day my gramps died--circa valentines day for those playing at home--there happened to be a blizzard here in cleveland...and he and i were talking, i brought it up briefly, then changed the subject...and said how i'd kill for a pizza. much to my shock, a few hours later i got a phone call from him saying there's a box for me waiting outside downstairs. at first? i didn't buy it...but, curiosity always gets the best of me so down i went, outside i went in the blizzard, and there was a box with my name on it. in the box? a medium pizza with my toppings of choice, ice cream, my favorite candy bars, my beloved diet coke, and a bouquet of tulips--my favorite flower. considering i'd never met the guy at this point and we were talking for less than a week, my little tears of sorrow turned to tears of joy, because that is seriously the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. ever. let alone the first time i've ever gotten something on valentines day from a guy that isn't related to me. and i need to stop talking about it because i'm tearing up again

i felt like shit a few weeks ago...and what did he do? he showed up at my door with half the counter of wallgreens. call me a cheeseball, but that's fucking sweet. he also brought over treats for sofie and lulu...[fyi-he fucking hates cats] so, that was also shocking to me

i was passed the fuck out one morning, he was up. what did he do? he took sofie out for me. i'm serious...my face is still portraying the pure shock weeks later.

i like to sleep with noise going on, so much to my surprise he picked me up from the airport and handed me a box. it was a sleep machine [with ipod hook up, woot!]...so, that rocked my socks off. what further rocked my socks off? i'm probably the only human being that completely passes out when she hears city sounds, so i, naturally, put the "city sounds" option on and pass-the-fuck-out. he couldn't sleep at all with the horns honking and subway sounds...but, he laid there the entire night and didn't once change it, wake me up, bitch, or moan. when he told me in the morning, i told him he should have changed it, or woken me up to change it...but he just looked at me and said "you were sleeping, that's all that matters." yea...it's vomitous, i know.

we made dinner...he showed up at my door with, i shit you not, a field of tulips. i swear, it's like he raided a field before he came over...the bouquet was HUGE..i couldn't hold it one hand...i needed two vases for it. yea..i loved it =0)

i'd say that's enough nausea inducing smut for now. what happens when to rather anti-commitment people get together? guess i'm about to find out.

3. in addendum to how sweet he is, he's also the first guy to give me an orgasm...oh yes, my rubics-cube of a vagina has been solved. it's really simple...go figure.

4. march twenty-sixth marked the fourth year my dog has been existence, and the fourth year--for all intents and purposes--that i've been a proud puppino owner. i know understand what my parents mean when they say it seems like they just blinked and i was the lovable hedgehog-esque blogger half-ass-edly blogging before you. they just grow up so fast..*tear*

5. in an effort to be a good daughter, i've decided to do a diet with my momma, who coincidentally should lose weight before surgery...no big deal right? i try to burn seven-thousand calories a week to ensure that i, in theory, lose two pounds per week and can eat whatever the fuck i want whenever i want...and, that extreme amount of cardio is thus my habit. this diet only allows me to eat one thousand calories a day.....i foresee falling over in a blaze of sweet in my future.

6. i am on the cusp of becoming a full fledged lawyer [scary isn't it?], and i'm no closer to being okay with that conclusory fate. i know it makes no sense, i know i'm being a shithead, and i know that i'm nearly twenty-five years old and i'm still absolutely clueless about what i want to do with my life, and that just ain't right. moreover, i'm pretty much clueless about whether i'd be a good lawyer or not..but i suppose i shall find out.

7. continuing on with the academic, unbeknownst to me my masters program requires students to maintain a 3.3 average before they are put on academic probation...and guess which student got *gasp* two "B-"'s fall semester? imagine how absolutely pleasureful that phone call to my parents was? not only did i have no clue about that rule, but i had to tell them i was kicked out of the program for a semester. who's mommy and daddy's shitheaded child? oh yes, dats me...queen of the dee-dee-dee.

8. i am once again a proud apple owner. that's right, i took all the money i don't have and decided to buy a macbook...and before you get all "you can't be that poor if you can afford a macbook," let me just add that i bought it off craigslist from a guy who didn't want it anymore because the battery was wonky...so, for six hundred bucks and a new battery, i had a fairly new fifteen hundred smackaroo machine. okay. i'm done defending myself. anyway, mac's have this bomb ass program called garageband, and i am addicted to it. if you ever want to prove your musicial inability, this is the program for you! hey..just 'cause i'm hoplessly devoted to music doesn't mean i'm necessarily musically inclined or skilled at it.

9. this pretty much sums up my view of things lately:

1o. i finally went to israel. oh yes. FINALLY! only took a good eighteen years of begging my parents to let me go, them going for my birthday last year, and the few friends i had dropping off like flies leaving my schedule open for spring break. so, i went...i saw...i had the joy of seeing it snow in jerusalem and freezing my balls in none other than the middle east...and i fell in mother-fucking love, people. as soon as a certain someone who shall remain unnamed because i promised i would stop bitching at him to send me pictures *cough cough*, i will post pics of the most beautimous holy land.

and, it is thursday...so here's a crappy pic

eitan insists that the above exhibited outfit does not match...i see nothing wrong with dark brown pants, a very light orange tank top, and a black sweater. am i wrong? and wow, that is really not a flattering picture at all.

when everyday the forecast calls for i hate myself again, i don't think there's much else to say except i'm begging for something to change.

2007-02-15T11:13:00.000-05:00

my grandfather died tuesday night.

i'm not allowed to discuss the details of the whole situation and it's killing me. the details of the situation pretty much haunt me...

not as much as they haunt my mother, i'm sure. she may have been a nut case before, but after this she's bound to be a total basket case....and?

rightfully so.

my father i'm sure is too.

if i've talked to you during the past few days and i was less than courteous, sweet, or even have been a darker, more sadistic version of my naturally un-sunshine self...well, sorry. i'm trying really hard not to let things get the best of me and my overall mood, but i can only keep myself so busy...and the thoughts have a strange way of creeping up on me.

i'm going to take a break from this blogging thing, i think. this place went from being an outlet of my thoughts and general personality to a constant reminder of how i can't stand myself...and i don't want that. i think removing myself for a bit may bring back the original intent behind this little shithole on the net. i'll post...but not nearly as frequently...which isn't even that frequent at all.

i do love you all, cherish you all, and thank you all for all the help, strength, courage, advice, and general warm fuzzies you all have given me. i really do appreciate you guys.

if you'd like to keep in contact with me, the e-mail's over on the left...
if not...until the next time we meet in cyberland...
i love y'all.

i'm so strung out on this mandolin of my self hate, and if i wrote down the words of my heart, would you still tear it apart?

2007-02-12T01:53:00.000-05:00

i'm tired.
i'm disconsolate...i'm drowning in the sea of my own anathema...
i feel fatuous.

how do you know if you have good intuition or not?

how can you tell if it's your intuition screaming with each and every beat of your sinking heart or just the sick perverted voice of your underlying concupiscent pipe dream?

when is it okay to put all of the chromatic, chimerical, vivid eggs into the basket of all your endeavors and escapades and abandon the surefire way to garnish the doleful look of acceptance in the eyes of the onlookers that you've struggled to catch a glimpse of for what seems like eternity?

twelve years is a long time to have your heart set on the same fucking thing, isn't it? you'd think eventually things would shift as the prowess of maturity and age progressed to shape your thoughts and aspirations enough to make those pesky teenage desires transform into something a bit less implausible and a bit more realistic and "real world."

do you know what it's like to want something so bad that it replaces the blood coursing in your veins? it's something you're so infatuated with that the possibility of it's nonoccurrence isn't a factor even in your most cogent of thoughts...not until someone wakes you from the narcosis of your opiate...your fantasy...your remedy.

what do you do when your intuition's supposed clairvoyance is screaming in your ears and the glitterati spectating the debacle of your existence demand selective hearing?

what's left when all is written in the little black book of palpitation as "to be" and is discernably torn out, page-by-page, by everything, every factor, and everyone standing around you?

i'm decided...
i'm zealous...i'm floating on a cloud of my own percipience

i'm hopeful

this feeling will burn forever.
and so will i.

i'm running out of reasons, so here is the one thing i'm asking for: when you leave could you shut the door. i don't want to get hurt again or anymore

2007-02-08T18:32:00.000-05:00

yea, i suck.

i totally forgot it was thursday. in fact, i have no concept of time at all lately...and i'm down in my tiny little hole and i'm thankful i was a swimmer...otherwise i'm not sure i'd stay afloat.

anyway...i'll babble more when i don't have to be at practice ten minutes ago [yes, that makes sense if you think about it] so...

umm

guess i'll share something that amuses the fuck out of me. ta dow:

alright...aside from the ghastly look i'm giving and how horrible i look without make-up on...pay close attention to the color of the shower curtain and the color of my hair.

you see that?

yea, they fucking match. my natural hair color matches the irridescent redish shower curtain...funtastic! and people wonder why i dye my hair almost religiously.

you're not strong enough to fix me, you're too weak to be my cure, oh darling it gets better-you're living your murder

2007-02-05T00:06:00.000-05:00

i'm sure some of you are wondering what's going on with me..and honestly, it's not the most horrible of things...it's just one of those difficult things

basically my grandfather has liver failure, and he has for nearly the past twelve years and things are starting to reach critical, so-to-speak. they found a large tumor on his liver which is, coincidently, bleeding. so, basically, he's bleeding out...slowly but surely. he was in the icu all last week, and he was transferred to a more apt hospital a few days ago. he's not in pain or anything...and other than the fact he wants to go home, he's doing pretty well...

still, it's never good when reality smacks you across the face with something as banal and inherent as human frailty, the human condition, and the selfless yet selfish heartache associated with the inevitability of loss.

anyway, i wasn't sure if i'd be going to florida last week or not, especially since my brother said my grandfather has a month left...and i'm not sure when i will have to make the trek down there to see him prior to receiving another education on mortality...so, i'm pretty much laying low and finishing up all my work immediately after i get it.

in somewhat good news, he seems like he's ready to be reunited with my grandmother...in his own words.."it's time."

anyway..onto something a tad bit more uplifting...like say...ohh, i don't know...yea i really have nothing. i have to be up at the ass crack of dawn so i can go to court and contest a ticket i never got at eight in the fucking morning. lets hope i'm home in time to go to the gym. my fat ass could use it.

before i go though...i'd like to say YAY COLTS! and let y'all know that i want this car:

there were few words between us, but i knew you'd always be there for me. i need to let go and i need to let you become one of my fondest memories.

2007-01-29T13:19:00.000-05:00

all is not well in the little land of e, so on account of a big family emergency/fiasco/crisis, i'm going to be mia all week.

figured i'd let y'all know so no one worries...not that anyone would, but...yea. okay.

have a good one y'all.

i'm stuck on this island called "my anathema" and no one knows to help rescue me. i'm existing in my mind as the waves of the past suffocate me.

2007-01-25T12:23:00.000-05:00

i have this mysterious fucking way of completely fucking myself over in ways that i have no control over in any way shape or form.

before i got into any of that, let me just get a few things off my chest:

would it fucking kill downtown to actually, oh i don't know, plow the fucking streets? i realize that plowing snow off the road is a lot to ask for--afterall, the shit melts after a while, right?-- so i'll settle for some salt action..just do something so i'm not playing a continual game of chicken with everyone on the road and praying to me-mother mary-and-joseph that my a-b-s breaks are enough to make me stop as needed.
ever sit there, lying in bed, at four in the morning...staring up at your ceiling with only one thought in your head: what in the fuck could they possibly be doing up there to make so much goddamn fucking noise? the fucking building is cement...they've got to be playing fucking basketball up there or something for me to hear it so fuckin clearly.
going along with the "what the fuck are they doing vibe?", i'm going to say this as nicely as i can: dearest shithead[s] who live upstairs--pick up your fucking feet when you walk....unless of course you're actually the weight of an elephant, in which case...well? well done and carry on.
first, let me admit that i still wear uggs...but before you berate me on this lovely fact, just know i never wear them with a skirt nor do i ever tuck my pants in them...basically, i only wear them if it's ensured that ninety-five percent of them are covered...anyway, would it fucking kill them to maybe, and i know this is far fetched, put traction on their winter boots?! i might as well be wearing ice skates lately because doing anything but sliding around is guaranteed to land me on my ass.
is it necessary to waste my tax dollars to keep putting up an orange plastic fencing between barrels when in reality the construction comes no where near that area of the road/sidewalk and people continually break that area of fencing down anyway? and is it absolutely necessary to honk your horn at me while i crawl underneath said fence as i walk to class, because it's snowing and it's cold and walking straight across the street just seems like the more logical course of action over walking three blocks north and two blocks south? you're sitting in your car honking, obviously you aren't constructing..back the shit off.

right, so back to what i was talking about before...i seem to get into situations that are, for lack of a more appropriate word, fucked. so, i present to you:

ninety-nine problems and for once
this bitch ain't caused one.

in this week's addition, we have none other than me playing the part of the bad ass mother fucking protagonist and "the man" playing the dick sucking antagonist.

circa my birthday last year i lost my califronia license...naturally, that's a pretty big deal; however, my license was expiring on my actual birthday so i figured there was no point in calling california and getting all that shit straightened out on account of getting an ohio license in a few days. so, on may 30th i got an ohio license...funtastic. just what i need...verification and codification of the fact i do, in fact, live here.

regardless, unbeknownst to me, on that same day in a city that will live in infamy within the preface of all things falling under the category of "fuck that place," i got a speeding ticket in a ford. naturally, i never paid that ticket...i didn't know i got it, and i never got anything in the mail saying i had a ticket of any kind. nothing. i got nothing to that effect.

not. a. fucking. thing.

so imagine my complete and utter shock at three in the morning this past tuesday when i got pulled over for an illegal u-turn at a stop sign....which for the record, i'm not sure why a stop sign would still be controlling half way up a street, but that's neither here nor there...and after what seemed like a lifetime of sitting in my car with the unecessary beacon light shining in my car blinding the fuck out of me, the cop approached my car and said "are you aware you have a warrant out? now why would a girl like you have a warrant out?" to which i sat there probably doing the most dead on impression of a deer-in-headlights possible all the while looking completely mortified and totally aghast. the cop continued to look at me and say "well, you're too cute to have a warrant out so i suggest you figure this out. i'm not going to book you."

total aside before i continue: is there a reason why everytime i've gotten pulled over in this shithole state i've gotten hit on, in a matter of speaking, by the cop? are they that desperate?

so, i call to figure out what is going on with this whole warrant situation...which is coincidently when i found out there's a speeding ticket in my name received on the same exact day i got the codification of ohian status in a ford f150, and while talking to the [sarcasm] oh-so-fucking pleasant [/sarcasm] receptionist at the court i asked how to go about clearing it up. the procedure is as follows:

go to atm machine, take out two hundred and fifty dollars in cash
go to the township police department and explain the situation
get finger printed and get a mug shot taken
pay the two hundred and fifty dollar bail
receive a court date
go on your merry fucking way

seems easy enough, no? minus the fact i don't exactly have two hundred and fifty dollars sitting around just waiting to be used for something as fucking lame as posting bail for something i didn't do so i don't get dragged to jail. oh, and then there's the tiny detail concerning the fact that i can't drive myself for it is illegal for me to drive until this warrant and ticket are cleared.

so, now i have to find someone to pick me up and drive me to the police station so i can do steps one through six...and i realize, that also doesn't seem like a big deal; however, you're not taking into consideration the hours of operation...which, if you're wondering are monday through friday nine in the morning to three-thirty in the afternoon.

anyone with a job is pretty much occupied during those hours, and anyone in school is also pretty much occupied at that time. and anyone who is wondering, yes..i am proper fucked.

"but what about going to court and proving it wasn't you?" i hear you ask. ahh, my little butterflies...that isn't possible, for you see the way the system works is that if they send out letters and they are not returned, then they are assumed to have been received; therefore, i cannot use the argument that i never received anything documenting my receiving a ticket. moreover, i can't say that it wasn't me on account of the fact the cars don't match up...afterall, i could have been driving someone elses car, right? my only plausible course of action that won't require me relying solely on circumstantial, speculative, my-word-v.-the-record evidence and having to hire a lawyer is to plead no contest.

i'd like to say that our protagonist is going to live happily ever after, but we'll have to see what the antagonist is working with first.

the end
_______________________________________

anyway...

dear-in-headlights style gaze? check.
mug shot appeal? check.
what the fuck wrinkle exposed? check.
chewing on left cheek and
biting lefr portion of lip
all signs e is scared out of her mind? check.

book me bitches...i'm gonna be a star.

*never take extremely low resolution picture, you wind up looking a manequin.

when you feel your arms wrapped around you, you'll think of me and wish that it was me choking you instead.

2007-01-22T00:34:00.000-05:00

a new year, a new position in time, a new outlook
--afterall, 2006 was abso-fuckin-lutely terrible--

"a friend is someone who knows the song in your heart, and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words. "

people, as i'm sure i've reiterated more than enough times, never cease to amaze me.

sometimes it's the type of amaze that leaves me shaking my head with a goofy grin on my face and the simple words "you fucking idiot" ringing in my ears. othertimes, it's the type of amaze that makes me want to crawl further into myself and not deal with people at all.

this time around, it's the "retreat! run the fuck away!" type of amaze. i'd rather not go into the details of the entire fucking shebang--and there are reasons for my decision which extend to the fact that a few people may know the individual.

regardless, i'm not dwelling on the acrid actuality of it all...rather, i'm delighted that for the first time in my life i'm not only brutally aware of the fact that friendship entails effort on the part of both participants..and not half assed effort, but a paralleled and almost equal level of effort...but that i'm actually allowing that fact to rule my actions.

no more running after so-called "friends," no more making sure i'm somehow involved and aware of what goes on in their life, no more going out of my way to make sure i see them when and if possible, and no more fooling myself into thinking i can count on people simply because i know they count on me.

i'm no longer in the business of self sacraficing and being constantly available to those individuals who like to dubb themselves "my friend" but will never ever reciprocate the no-holds-bar attitude that forms the foundation of a true friendship.

"the family is a haven in the heartless world"

i sometimes paint my family into an aweful corner with a paintbrush wrought with my constant failures to live up to expectation and my apparently endless disappointments.

that's not very fair.

i absolutely adore my family, and i make no attempts to hide that. my family also drives me up a fucking wall, and, once again, i don't really hide that. yet, what i'm guilty of allowing my thoughts to wreak havoc upon that stems from their overall intention to ensure my well being, prosperity, and overall success via the avenue of seemingly turning my life into a game of risk-copulates-with-stratego, isn't necessarily worth me proverbially going off on them...in text...on the world wide web.

resenting your family is normal...resenting your family in the most clandenstine way possible is just fucking stupid. thus? no more. if i can't open my mouth about it to them, i can't bitch and moan about it in any other medium.

hopefully this will force me to expres my thoughts to them...or, i'll just repress it. whichever i'm strangely fine with.

"self is the only prison that can ever bind the soul"

i think i may hold the title for queen of existing within the confines of my own little mind. i refrain from doing a lot of things simply because...of, well? me.

i need to stop being my own worst enemy, as cliche as that is to say. i also need to stop making myself completely miserable by letting all my insecurities flourish and refusing to stray too far from the image i think i should portray.

i'd say on the cusp of twenty-five, it's time to start peering out from behind my own protective ways...and commence deconstructing this picture i'm seemingly stuck in.

i don't think i'm ready to go drop out of law school, give my parents a heart attack and the proverbial finger, and go off and figure my shit out while i snowboard and smoke pot for a while...but i'm taking baby steps to expanding my horizons and expanding other avenues of possibility.

i'm taking the band thing much more seriously, i'm taking a few web design classes on the side, i'm working out like a mad woman so i can finally get to where i want to be, and i'm trying to be less asocial.

see what else i can muster up.

your icicles of memories, frozen like glass, cut me into remnants of what we called our past. i'm shrouded, and i'm dangerously undermedicated.

2007-01-18T00:59:00.000-05:00

i'm thinking there's something going extremely wrong with the world right now.

why you ask? well, quite simply...my class on tuesday was cancelled, my morning class on wedesday was cancelled...which rocks because i didnt do the reading, oops...the guitarist and bassist of the band i'm attempting to get into love everything i've written, even if it's totally not what they had in mind and had envisioned...

now if tonight i can manage to find my balls long enough to not sit there and stare at the microphone while i should be making out with it, and maybe reaching a vocal level above a slight whisper that's audible enough to make it known something is coming out of my mouth...well then, i'd have to say that this whole world is going to absolute shit and the stars, planets, chakarah's , and whatever else are severely mis-aligned.

i'm not sure what my problem is...i belt it out at all fucking times with no real problem--shower, car, restaurant, bar, work, in my apartment, walking the dog. if there's music playing, i'm singing...and "playing" includes the tunes on loop in my wee little head. i partially think it's the fact that i've met up with these guys twice, total, and in large part because there are no melodies, and there is something insanely daunting about making one up when it's pretty much set in stone that the members of the band had something in mind, unbeknownst to me.

but, let me digress for a second and go back to the whole "it's totally not what they had in mind and had envisioned" comment i made about a paragraph ago because it's kind of been bugging me. it makes me happier than a nutsack on a chin that they like what i write and that they think it'll go along with the music...what bugs me isn't the fact it's utter torture writing shit out and having people read it with a critical eye, let alone having what's written out be a part of your heart because what's the point of writing if it has no meaning other than to rhyme legitimately enough to gel with the instrumentals?

nope. what leaves me somewhat scratching my head is the fact that almost everyone who has read what i've written has described it as "extremely dark."

and no, it's not just "dark"...the "extremely" or a close synonym is almost always used in succession...it's like a two-fer: you aren't just the cemetary keeper, you're the keeper of the crypt.

now, i'm not saying by any stretch of the imagination that "extremely dark" is a bad thing, i just never really thought of myself as the maven of caliginosity. i'm well aware that i'm not the happiest mother fucker walking this world...i'm also well aware i am far, far, far, far from...but i always thought of myself in the spectrum of normal with regard to the dark side: not swimming in a sea of constant delight, but not lying in a bed constantly six feet under, either.

so, imagine my delight when i was at a friend's house on monday [which marked the first time a male of the species has ever made me dinner, mind you] and while talking to a friend of the friend, the friend of the friend, within five minutes of actually being in my presence, said "you definately have a very, very dark side." "i do not." "it's not a bad thing" "how can you tell?" "i just can."

smashing! i went from normally being considered laid back and bubbly to the princess of nigritude, who wears her crown not atop her head...oh no!..but sticking out from her chest after piercing her heart with it, all in a matter of the ascent of a new year.

fan-fuckin-tastic. really though...do i seem that dark?

i have no idea why it bugs me at all...i mean i'm sure my inner former goth-punk teenager is jumping for joy, but there's something kind of daunting about having the inner workings of yourself being called "extremely dark"...it feels like i'm this deranged, twisted, sick,morbid, fucked up little girl who keeps it all pretty well contained...

which, for the most part, is pretty true. snarf.

maybe i've had too much freetime to sit and think about it...who knows.

anyway, i've been going insane this week trying not to get another tattoo...so...uhm...well? i'm using that as an excuse for having a non-risque hnt this week...and before you open your mouth and start bitching, don't forget that last week i practically bared all...so shut it.

what do you do when your friend draws a portrait of you?

make it into sixties style pop art and slap it on what would be a brick wall...thanks ry!

maybe if i could get the fuck over myself and stop being shy and maybe open my fucking mouth and let the good times roll out and vocalize...this could be a reality.

yea, definately not. i love playing in the shadows to ever stray that far into the limelight.

false pretenses, more so i can say. logic and obligation make it hard to stray away. all these thoughts are attacking me, and i can't find an answer

2007-01-15T02:17:00.000-05:00

i have notebook upon notebook filled with random things i write...so, i figure why not share a bit of it. ergo, i present to you:

randomness
'cause i'm one random little wench

...it's not until you break that you see all that's lying underneath.

...be my distraction, be mine.

...and when you can't sleep at night it's because you've ruined your mind.

...i'm out of breath from saying all these things i'll regret.

...we could be perfect together, so i'll admit that you really like me.

...i'd die to keep myself away from you.

...i keep things hidden so they can never leave.

...i want to be someone, i'm just not sure who.

...the color beautiful reflects in your eyes.

...i live in quotes and can't say anything right.

...optimism is a phase you grow out of.

...you're too weak to be my cure.

...don't judge me simply because i'm not you.

...i help you fix yours, why can't i fix mine?

...when do worthwhile girls get thier happily ever after.

...your love is so adorable.

...i'll leave the past where it should be because my future looks fantastic without you.

...close your eyes and see where the light takes you.

...draw the twinkle back in my eyes with serrated confetti.

...a warm cup of pretend soothes and calms me.

...seconds seem like a lifetime of unrequited relief.

...it's all so false, but i just can't seem to resist.

...memories echo for the remainder of your life.

...is it love or the memories that keep my mind creeping back to you?

...is it possible to grow up exactly as you imagined?

...when you look at my face don't use the reflection in my versace's to check yourself out.

...i need the healing hands of someone who understands.

...i stopped enough to never let it show, and i hid it so well.

...there's always that feelign you'd do anything to get back.

...we met. i wish i could forget.

...have faith, someday things will be different. hope whispers when you want to give up.

...i hope you can't breath so you turn paltry like me.

...don't try to drown your sorrows. sorrows know how to swim.

...i want to kiss the rain.

...i'm not important enough to have meaning.

...you want to be loved? darling it's too late.

...if you promise to follow, i'll run slower.

...people hurt you, they criticize you, and then turn their back and wonder what the fuck your problem is.

...hiding only alarms people when the real you peers out.

...never knowing what i want, but knowing i don't want this.

...abandon these walls you've spent your whole life building.

...i'll speak when i can fast forward and see if you're worth it.

...you look so beautiful with all these bruises on your ego.

...i'm sharing a drink with a memory, and this affinity revival army.

...carry me anywhere but where these walls mock my attempts; anywhere where the door slides left.

...second chances are just a chance to break the scab grown over this road rashed heart.

...i need this more than words could ever know.

...misery loving company is how we get by.

...tucked neatly on the shelf are all the times you should have asked for help.

...it's bound to go away; feelings never stay.

...misery is a shade and i wear it so well.

...empty eyes are bleeding your own sorrow.

...you look so beautiful with these bruises on your ego.

...lets picnic in this valley of a shadow of death, lets frolic through these green pastures, and what good is this coffin i lie myself in to rest when it does change that i'm alone.

...can i ask you a question please? promise you won't laugh. honestly, i'm standing here afraid i'll be betrayed. as twisted as it seems i only fear love when it's in my dreams. can you turn my black roses red?

tired of searching hopefully for outstretched arms and kind words. i want to look at my reflection and finally say "it's good to see you again"

2007-01-11T00:45:00.000-05:00

i've been thinking for a while about what happened to me yesterday while grocery shopping, and in the middle of my estates and trusts class....pretty much mid sentence of a douchebag who actually had the audacity to ask what a lawyer would be paid in situations where an estate does not require the executor to go to probate--lawyers are evil, i've told you guys a million times and i'm sticking to it--it struck me that the occurence of yesterday was odd.

what happened? well, a guy recognized me from myspace.

yup. i said it. i was sitting there doing my self check out when out of nowhere a guy approached me and asked me if i was cuntylicious from myspace.

now, let me say that i admire a the balls of the guy who can walk up to some random bitch, say the word "cunt", and then follow up the word "cunt" with the word "myspace" and all the while keep his complete and total composure and earnestness.

let me say that this also takes me to a new low in my life. i'm recognizable from myspace...how sad is that? at least he said i was cute...which i find hard to believe seeing as making the trek to the grocery store literally required me to take one foot out of my pneumonia laced grave, slam it on a clutch as needed, and then crawl through the store at a pace that even a snail could surpass. not to mention my voice is beyond shot such that four people who have called me actually thought i was eitan, jake, or ryan answering my phone...and my nose is a veritable hoover damn of snot. trust me, it's a fucking horrific experience being near me right now.

anyway.

in totally unrelated news i am a proud pupil of mergers and acquisitions which only meets on monday; however, on account of feeling like total ass and wanting to finish at least the first course of antibiotics before i showed my ugly mug in the law building [not to mention i'm still pissed they started a week earlier for absolutely no reason seeing as it's martin luther king jr. day on monday, so what the fuck was the point?]...so, i missed the first class. whatever. not the point. the point is that my queen-o-the-procrastination ways lead me not even to look at the first assignments list for my classes until today while sitting in class...and it turns out that there may be an awesomely cool professor in the law department yet. the first assignment as decreed by the professor was, and i quote:

"Class is cancelled for January 8th. We'll schedule a make-up class at a mutually convenient time. As a reminder, the textbook for this course is "The Law of Mergers and Acquisitions" (3d. ed.) by Dale Oesterle. Your assignment for the first class will be to watch the BCS championship game undistracted by any concerns about my class, and with a profound sense of gratitude for the fact that Brent Musburger isn't doing the broadcast this year. Go Bucks!"

how fucking cool is that? i mean, the bucks died like a flan in a fucking cupboard..but still...that's a bomb ass prof, if i do say so myself!

okay, before everyone jumps on my ass for posting something that is self depricating in every sense of it's potential one-thousand words, but there's a method to my self loathing most of the time...

and, i can't even bullshit a logical method this time. i'm the queen of being rejected, and i'm well aware that i'm on the other side of the coin fairly often as well.

sometimes it's good to wear your label loud and proud...sometimes wearing your label makes the harsh reality of it seem a bit more easy to swallow...

it's not the worst thing in the world to come to grips with the denouement of your ongoing fairtytale gone slightly astray and wholly wrong.

i think i could tell my life story by the blood splattered on the wall-these scars make me more beautiful afterall so make me add another beauty mark.

2007-01-10T00:53:00.000-05:00

props to blogger for not working at any point during the past two days i wanted to actually post something and/or comment on something. bigger props for beta blogger working just peachily while we old skool bloggers got fucked up the ass without so much as a spit shine. i shouldn't complain..that's a lot more action than i've had come my way in a long ass while...and at least it stayed hard.

right. so...hello my beloved readers. i know i have been a bad, bad, bad blogger on account of just not having the desire to blog. at all. on top of having nothing to talk about, being in lake tahoe for two weeks where dipshits e, j, and r totally forgot their computers even though they told me they were bringing it...i've got nothing worthwhile to talk about. same old shit, different channel, and a brand new year. how many times can i post a tit shot? how many times can i bitch and moan about how much my dating life sucks? how much can i revel in how much i suck?

well, quite a bit actually...but that doesn't mean it's something anyone else wants to read and come back to, you know?

i don't know. i guess i need to re-evaluate this blogging thing. i don't want to take it down because nothing pisses me off more than when people do that, but i'm not in my usual form and haven't been for a while. i guess we shall see. for now, i'll just do a run down of my trip and all that other petty shit. wahoooozie!

1. watching osu lose last night was painful. i won't lie and say i'm a die hard osu fan, i won't even lie and say i really gave a shit if they won or lost...but, i thought for sure that florida wouldn't even stand a chance, and then by the end of the second quarter florida had the entire osu team lined up in anticipation for some gator dick and gatorade--jizz style. what the fuck happened to osu? fifty-one days off does not a shitty fucking team make. i say it's all the in'n'out they eat, all the sun, and the fact that they, along with the rest of the glorified state of ohio, thought that this game was going to be a total cake walk. oops. their bad.

2. along with the typical new years resolution of losing another fifteen pounds or so, i have the resolution to see to it that this fucked up feeling in my stomach that pretty much resides in the background of my every pesky little thought that yells at me, commands me, and directs me to abandon this ship of a logical legal future and swim in a total sea of decline in the hopes of maybe having this feelings desires met...has a chance to find its fruition or utmost failure. perhaps then it will shut up, and i can lay to rest this irksome yearning that there's something more i'm destined for.

3. along with the new years theme, lets just say that my new years was absolutely horrendous. how horrendous you ask? lets just say i was in bed at twelve-thirty the morning of the first, crying my little eyes out.

4. while i know most people would be more than happy to have my luck in the penis department, i, of course, am not. i have no idea why, but every guy i've been with has been porn star worthy...and you can say it's because i date taller guys, but even the guy i dated that was 5'9'' had a nine and a half inch wankus [course, he had no clue what to do with it..none of them really have, but that's a whole other story]. i'm not really complaining about that, but it makes it kind of disappointing when you do find a guy that is under that...because...well? when all you've had is nine and over, anything under nine seems a bit...how to put this? not impressive. is it just me? is my expectation of the equivalent of an elephant tusk coming at me hindering my ability to have any kind of relations with a guy who is in the spectrum of average? what's a girl to do?

5. anyone interested in a snowboarding trip with me?

i'm only here for a while, but patience is not my style and i'm too tired to care and i never want to go home.

2007-01-03T00:39:00.000-05:00

i know i've been slacking on the hnt/blogging front...so to make up for it might as well post a few pictures because i'm so not in any condition to be posting anything on account of once again having fucking pneumonia..and, as always, telling rest to fuck off and running myself to the ground.

who wouldn't smile if they got to have this:

the caddy of snowboards. sure, i may be out a shitload more money than i actually have...but she rides like a dream.

my latest tat on my wrist. kinda cool that you can't see the white one i got on that wrist unless sun shines on it.

and some ewwww on the body front. nothing liek sharing a room with 4 guys to make you a sitting duck at all potential naked times.

and to anyone who has been wondering where i've been the past two-or-so weeks...well? this should explain it all:

it hurts all the time when you don't return my calls and you haven't got the time remember how it was. it's like drinking poisen and eating glass.

2006-12-25T00:20:00.000-05:00

this is rather old and it stems from when the whole debacle last may with my father [which, knock on wood has turned out to be nothing more than a speed bump thus far] but i think it's encompasses the holiday spirit to an unprecedented tee.

A few confessions from my beating heart:

I have no fucking clue who Nick and Jessica are. I see them on the cover of People and US magazines constantly when i'm buying dog buscuits or kitty litter. I often ask the checkers at the grocery store, and they never know who Nick and Jessica are either. Who are they? Will it change my life if I know who they are and why they broke up? Why are they so important? Honestly, I don't know who Lindsay Lohan is either, and even more honestly-I don't care at all about Tom Cruise's baby or to-be wife. If this is what it meanst o be no longer young, it's not so bad.

Next Confession:

I am a jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. It doesn't bother me even a little bit when people call those beauitful lit-up bejeweled trees Christmas trees. I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are: Christmas trees. It doesn't bother me a bit when people say "Merry Christmas" to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact I kind of like it--it shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating a happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there's a manger scene at key intersections. If people want a creche, it's just as fine with me as the Menorah a few yards away is.

I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in G-d are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from that America is an explicitly athiest country--I can't find it in the Constitution, and I don't like it being shoved down my throat. Or maybe I can put it another way: Where did the idea come from that we should worship Nick and Jessica and we aren't allowed to worship G-d as we, personally, understand him? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old too.

But, there are a lot of us wondering where Nick and Jessica came from and where the America we knew and loved went to. In light of many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different--this is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny--this is intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Earl Show and Jane Clayson asked her, "How could G-d let something like this happen?" (regarding Katrina). She said: I believ G-d is deeply saddened by this just as we are, but for years we've been telling G-d to get out of our schools, to get out of our government, and to get out of our lives. And, being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect G-d to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand that he leave us alone?"

I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered and her body was recently found) was complaining she did not want prayer in our schools and we said "Ok". Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school--the bible says "Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself."--and we said "Ok." Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave because thier little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self esteem (Dr. Spock's son comitted suicide, by the way, without the hazard of a warped personality). We said an expert should know what he's talking about, and said "Ok."

Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, classmates, or themselves. Probably, if we think long and hard enough we can figure it out--I think it has a great deal to do with "We Reap What We Sow."

Funny how simple it is for people to trash G-d and then wonder why the world's going to hell.

Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the fundamentals behind what the bible says.

Funny how we can send jokes through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.

Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar, and obsence articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of G-d is surpressed in the school and workplace.

Are you laughing?

Funny how if you decide to share this message, you won't send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it.

Funny how can be more worried about what other people think of us than what G-d, the only one who effectively matters, thinks of us.

merry christmas to everyone =0)

tell me is this suicide or involuntary manslaughter that's staring at my reflection? i'm cutting away all the pieces of me you left behind.

2006-12-21T00:51:00.000-05:00

tuesday night i went to see army of anyone [yes..that is one gay ass band name....it's okay, it's been discussed and it's been concluded], which is the new band of richard patrick-the lead singer of the band filter, the deleo brothers-the former bassist and guitarist of stone temple pilots, and ray luzier-most well known for being the drummer of david lee roth. the show was pretty fucking sweet and they played a few stp songs and filter songs on top of their own songs [shut up matty, i still think you cheated....asshole!]

what was rather cool is that richard patrick is actually from cleveland, ohio. who knew? i still say he's far too hot to be a clevelander, but hey..what do i know?

the opening band was from cleveland and holy fuck did they suck. not only were they the mildly metal version of the osmonds....seriously, they were all brothers and sisters which is rather odd to me at least...but the chick came out looking like the poster child for urban outfitters, which i'm thinking is a no-no if any music you play involves heavy distortion. she also had absolutely no stage presence and i swear to god whatever movements she made were choreographed. the rest of the band stood there looking like if they didn't play the show they'd be grounded....so yea, they fucking sucked and made me feel better about my own shtick on stage. what? i'm a shithead like that.

anyway...i must be getting old, or maybe my ears have reached an ungodly threshold of deafness..because my ears are ringing like a mother fucker. have been for two fucking days, and it's driving me nuts. i'm fine when music is playing or there's noise going on, but when my world goes silent [and i'm too poor to turn the heat up anymore to have it running] all i hear is a shrill ringing....oh, and my cat purring. talk about annoying.

and, speaking of talking and annoying....i have a question for you and i figure i'd do it audio style:

so, yea..in a fit of boredom i learned how to do animations...and i'm realizing this post is about fifty different directions at once, kind of sad that there's a huge difference between me on adderall and me not on it...even more sad that i'm even more random and non-sequitur when i'm not on it..so, umm sorry? uhhh....right..animation:

ain't cleveland so lovely? nothing says "visit!" like the scenic view of bus stops and ghetto ass buildings...am i right? or am i right?

and of course...a happy hnt to all..and to all a good night:

oh, and in case you haven't seen it....or heard me singing it [horrible song to have in your head before bed, by the way..just warning you]...or have been away from society for the past four days...enjoy:

one-cut a hole in the box; two-put your junk in the box; three-get her to open the box
*shakes her ass*

i wake up and think dreams are real. i sleep so i don't have to feel the truth that you can't ever be the one who never forgets me. let me sleep away.

2006-12-19T00:35:00.000-05:00

i always hate when my finals are over.

no, not because i genuinly like law school..obviously i hate it, and there's nothing even remotely exciting about accounting. it's just the fact that i've had something to do...something pressing that i should be doing rather than sitting on my ass doing nothing that even came close to what i had to do...that whole sense of urgency...

yea, it goes bye-bye until next semester starts...and i am far from the type of person that can sit and do nothing for more than an hour without going absolutely insane. so, it kind of goes without say that after waking up, going to the gym, and returning home at noon today....i went insane.

so to anyone who was conversing with me that isn't aware of how absolutely fucked up in the head i am..there you go. i am that fucked up in the head at most times, i just have other shit i'm doing to keep that side of me rather quiet. it's yelling up a fucking storm right now, so you saw it. my apologies.

in other not so interesting fantastic news...here's a little update on my goings-on:

1. i went to a stripper class. i swear to god the instructor was the most raunchy human being i've ever seen...and aside from resiting the urge to make her into a purse because of how much she tanned and trying my damndest not to crack STD jokes with her as hero and being rather successful at it...woman could spin her ass on a pole. wow. talk about a fucking pro. don't get too excited, i have no intention of being a stripper...and i really have no intention of going back to that class. it was fun, a great ab workout...but c'mon guys...i can hold my tongue for an hour, but after that? it's on like mother fucking gravitron.

2. i got asked to sing for another band. yippy skippy! only problem is, i have to write lyrics to a song i was not a part of writing, and the only way i can hear the song is through myspace...which, for anyone who has ever tried to listen to a song on that bastard website knows...is a no go. do you know how hard it is to write lyrics to a song that you can't hear entirely through at least once? dear fucking lord! the fact i have no idea what kind of vibe this band is going for isn't realyl helping either. i'm like a blind dude trying to find a urinal. needles to say..the lyrics suck more dick than your mom but i'm a glutton for punishment so, here they be:

it’s a long time feeling like this
long time sickness coming with
i’ve tried so hard to find another way
but got stuck staring in your dark gaze

so please stay
just knock me down again
so maybe I can get up right this time.
because the moral to the story goes
i’m the phoenix rising in you.

loathing streets and lights
this darkness makes me feel alright
stories mingled. their tangled up
i don’t ever want to think you’d give this up

jaded sights and sounds
gagged and trapped, i feel so bound
faded, i hope heaven sent
regards sent to wherever my self went

so please stay
just knock me down again
so maybe I can get up right this time.
because the moral to the story goes
i’m the phoenix rising in you.

i used to be confused, but now i’m used to being used.

it's very ewww eh? o-well. it'd be nice to get the gig seeing as the guitarist for my band now is having bipolar issues...and i miss practice.

3. i drove thirty fucking minutes to get a salad at this restaurant i love today, only to drive thirty fucking minute back and find out the bitch gave me the wrong salad....and not only did i get the wrong salad, but the salad was a bacon and ham jamboree of non kosher fun. i tried to pick out all of the ham jamboree, but it was pointless. fuckers!

4. blogger has finally offered me the opportunity to join the beta blogger clan...but, oh! the fuckers like to be cock teases, because when i go to switch it tells me i can't on account of how many posts and comments my blog has. what the fuck is that noise all about? why offer it to me anyway? and the worst thing? every fucking time i log in it tells me to make the switch...which obviously i can't...uch. talk about rubbing it in that i suck, huh?

5. i have no real five. i just don't really like to end things on a "4" because i'm ocd and all that bullshit. i will say that i am officially addicted to vitamin water-dragonfriut flavor. i actually dreamed last night about it. and, speaking of dreams..i've been having a lot of deja vu moments lately....so, either i'm completely out of my fucking mind, or i seem to like to tell my future in clumps. who knows.

i used to long for time alone, i used to long for a safe place to call my own, and i'm losing faith in everyone. i'm lost, so lost, i'm lost at sea.

2006-12-18T01:34:00.000-05:00

leave it to me to get so drunk and stoned that i throw my morals out the window and the need to get some dick supercedes the need to like myself in the morning.

leave it to me to find a guy, bring the guy home, and proceed to engage in debauchery...only to have the guy be "so nervous" he's unable to get hard and marshmallow-in-keyhold action ensues.

leave it to me to find the one guy who does not want to be simply a mistake in my book, and who has no desire to be simply a notch on my bedpost.

yes, leave it to me to find the only guy in this world who spends a night with a chick, can't perform at all, and wakes up in the morning with the assumption that you two are together, and promptly refers to you as "his girl" to the first fucking person that calls him.

yup. i can't even have random sex correctly....NOPE! i get a guy who genuinely likes me and can't fuck me, and then throws out that fucking "girlfriend" bullshit the minute i open my eyes in the morning and who actually went out and bought me a holiday gift.

you may be sitting there thinking "awww, that's so sweet. he likes you and he got you a gift." but you're out of your fucking mind if you're sitting there thinking that and also keeping in mind that i met the guy at eight o'clock at night on a saturday, and at seven o'clock at night on monday i got a phone call asking when he can come over and give me my gift...

i had five finals last week...and he felt the need to call me every fucking night, and periodically through the day to ask me such pressing questions as "do you miss me?" as if i could actually miss anything when my ulcer is going fucking insane, i have a shitload of legal crap and accounting bullshit to memorize, and i'm running on no sleep and no real food....

i got a phone call saturday afternoon in which he bitched and moaned about how horrible and disgusting he felt because he had some stomach bug, and he didn't just bitch and moan and give me a play by play about his puke-action....but he did it in fucking baby talk.

baby mother fucking talk.

and after he goes on and on about how horrible he feels and how much he hates throwing up, he asks if he can come over. am i being a total bitch in thinking that makes no sense? am i being a total bitch in thinking that calling someone for the sole purpose of bitching about how absolutely disgusting you feel is utter and complete crap? am i a complete bitch for thinking it's fucked up he bought me a holiday gift?

fuckin' hell.....how pathetic is my life?!

i need to get rid of him. bleh.

it must be nice to never feel insecure and always think you're right, but you are doomed to be undone and i swear i'll be the one to bring you down.

2006-12-14T00:28:00.000-05:00

i'm wallowing in my own personal hell, seeing as i have four exams today and one tomorrow at the ass crack of dawn...

not that a lack of sleep is anything i'm not used to, but a lack of sleep and having to use my brain in an active way is just a no-go i'm thinking...but we shall see. i anticipate my grades steadily declining with a culmination of an "f" on my friday morning exam.

can you smell the excitement?!

least by two o'clock on friday afternoon i am done with everything [at least for three weeks] and i've only got two more semesters of law school to endure because i've pretty much decided that there is absolutely no reason to prolong my exposure to the evil fuckwits that inhabit that educational institution...and there's no reason to be balancing two different finals schedules when i don't really have to. so yippy skippy. i'm one step closer to being "accomplished." tra la fuckin la.

we'll be back to my regularly scheduled blogging and comment-whoring next week...until then?

>

i am a photoshop master! okay...i'm lying, but i think my eyeball looks pretty fuckin shweet.

suckin' on my titties like you wanted me, callin' me all the time like blondie. it's fine all of the time like sex on the beaches. fuck the pain away.

2006-12-11T00:31:00.000-05:00

let me eschew you with a warning:

i have bruises on my inner thighs.

we're talking black and blue along the entire area defined as "inner thigh."

i know, you're probably sitting there thinking it's from muy thai, krav maga...or some other lunatic activity i absolutely adore...and i can't say i fault you for thinking along those lines because when i opened my shower curtain, peered in the mirror, and saw the lovely bruises i muttered a "fuck" and assumed it was from me being an absolute ass clown; however, i haven't really done anything that fucktarded in the past two weeks on account of the holiday weekend, finals, and getting over pneumonia. in fact, the only thing i've done in the past two weeks outside of running and lifting weights, is bag work...and even though the bag moves and smacks into you when you hit...well? i'm not sitting there with my legs wrapped around it while punching. [nice mental image, i know..heh]

it then dawned on me that a friend spent the night on friday on account of me being so absolutely wasted that i was stumbling around [reminder kids. don't drink and not eat. k? k!]. being the swell guy he is, he offered to drive my car home for me and make sure i was okay...so sweet huh? so, earlier this afternoon i called him: "dude, did anything happen on friday night?" "what do you mean?" "like...physical shit?" "not really. we made out, some heavy petting..but even when you're faded you're a total prude. you wouldn't let me even get a hand down your pants, let alone take them off...same with your shirt. you were drunk as shit, i was tipsy, don't worry...i don't think it means anything."

total aside:

aside from the last statement making me happier than a pig in shit because he has had a "thing" for me for a while, i wound up spending an hour sitting and thinking what the fuck is wrong with me? it's so not my style to make out with a random person, or a friend...even when i am drunk...OH! but when you have fantasies and sex dreams that all involve you masterbating because you have been bereft of any human sexual contact for that long....when the prospect of human contact arises, you take it...even if it's just some heavy petting and making out. oh, and while i'm being random and in the mood to share..to anyone who asks why i am kinda anti vibrator...well, let me just say i have a finite reason now: vibrator+piercing=click, click, click, click and the mood is dead. yay!

what confuses the shit out of me is what the fuck he was doing. i mean, i've been celebate for a while but i'm not a total newbie..and never before in my life have i ever had bruises on my inner thighs because i was engaging in some hot and heavy seventh grade action with a guy. i've never even had bruises on my innter thighs after a night of rough sex. alright, fine..my pants stayed on...but was he petting? or jab-jab-cross-ing my crotch in the hopes i'd feel a tingle and moan?!

that leads me to this public service announcement of da buttah's broadcasting system:

if you have a dick, it's attached, and you're trying to get with a chick...here is the shit you should not do...especially if that girl is me.

1. the clit. all men claim to know where it is, all women are shocked as fuck that men can't seem to find it. how hard is to find a nubby beanish thing? it feels like nothing else down in the swamp thing and it's towards the top of the cute little verticle smile. some girls, like me, have a proverbial x that marks the spot, and yet? guys forgo the giant "hello, my clit is here" barbell and dig around for god fucking knows what. if you can't find it, if you're clueless, if the chick is not into it at all, laughing, or you can tell she's trying to guide you towards it....don't fight it! go with the guiding, or fucking ask her to show you. we'll appreciate it more.

aside from the failure to find it, what men seem to do with it is somewhat astonishing. men, do you want a girl to bite on your dick? no, so why the fuck are your teeth anywhere near my clit? why are your teeth even exposed during your dine out session? same rules apply for eating cream puff as they do for sucking dick: NO TEETH. along those same lines, i've heard more than enough men bitch about a girl who pulls too hard on their junk...and yet? i think amost every guy i've ever been with has felt compelled and ergo acted upon this sick need to see how far my clitoris can extend from my body. dude! don't do that--it hurts. suck on it fine, don't fuckin try and rip it off...there's nothing pleasureful about it.

as a personal pet peeve regarding my piercing: it's a metal barbell that goes through the hood and guys are like a dog with a bone when it comes to it...and guess what? pulling on a barbell that goes through a flap of skin that is not even a quarter inch thick, or sucking on the aforementioned barbel like a fucking pork rib does not feel good. the point of the barbell is to heighten senstaion in the clitoris by "channelling," so to speak, any caress in the nether regions to that cute little bean because it sits right over it. in essence, it's supposed to make your job easier....and yet? you sit there pulling, biting, and suction-holding it rather than rubbing it. *sigh* idiots.

oh, and the no pulling, no hardcore sucking, and no pulling also applies to nipples.

2. vagina. to start, props for being able to find that fairly easily. there are fumbles, but i think after high school and, at the latest college, that's over. that, however, does not mean you are in the clear. in essence, i don't really blame men, per se, for their total fuck ups with the vah-jay-jay...rather, i think all the no-no's come from the porn industiry. first up on the no-no's is the jack-hammer. not sure where men got this idea that slamming their dick into a girls vagina over, and over, and over again at high speed and rapid succession was going to make her squeal with orgasmic delight...but get that fucking idea out of your head. just 'cause the chick in the porn screamed louder when the dude begain slamming the fuck out of her does not make it something women want. porn is fantasy, predominately male fantasy....but aside from penetration there really is nothing realistic about it. is your dick as big as the guy in the porn? yea, i didn't think so and that's exactly my point. the jack-hammer is vaginal abuse and you can actually bruise a woman's vagina by doing it...if you bruise her vagina, you not only will not be jack-hammering her for a while but you won't be getting laid for a while. the message is clear: if you want to slam your dick repeatedly into something extremely fast, take your left hand, make a "c" with it, and have a blast. if you want to actually have your dick find a warm, wet, happy home...stop jackhammering.

in the area of dining...never in my life have i ever met a woman who actually enjoyed it when a guy shoved his tongue into her vag...which i'm sure some guys will dispute [and have disputed with me when i've brought this up] and some women will to.... but, from my experience no chick really gets anything from it. i've seen it in more than enough porns to understand why guys think it's a thing to add to their "to do" list..but think of it this way: there's a reason your dick gets hard...there's a reason you use your fingers to manually stimulate her...there's a reason why every sex toy on the market is firm and not squishy...that reason is because that's what turns we womenfolk on. using your tongue is the equivalent of shoving a marshmallow in a key hole...yea, sure it fills it...but it doesn't open the fuckin door. not to mention, while you're busy trying to taste our uterus...we're laying there wondering when you'll get back to the shit that feels good, and if that woman is me...my mind fairly quickly wanders to shit that isn't condusive to getting off. keep your tongue out of my vag and up by the clitoris it's supposed to be playing with and things will work out just dandy.

when you are in foreplay mode and clothes have not come off yet--at least not the pants--don't waste your time trying to access the love canal. you can rub, you can blow on it [boys, that feels awesome], but there's a layer of clothe seperating your hand from her cooch...and in most cases two layers because she's also got underwear on...the odds of you getting near penetrating are none. focus on other things, like her breasts, her neck, her ears, her tummy, her jawline etc...and leave it alone...otherwise she might end up with bruised inner thighs like yours truly and it ain't pretty.

also, when in foreplay mode with clothes on...remember those one to two layers seperating you from her cooch? yea, remember that when you're on top of us with your own pants on doing the ol' dry humpage action. i know you want to show off how big, manly, and well-endowed you are...but not even ron jeremy is well-endowed enough to make his penis felt through two pairs of pants without jabbing his pelvis into a chick. we know you're hard...it really doesn't take much to make you hard...you don't have to prove it, just like you'd be weirded the fuck out of we tried to sit on your face while wearing pants to show you how wet you make us.

we'll leave it at that...for now. i'm sure i'll have some more retarded fucked up fumblings to report back to you that will be a giant red flag for men out there to stop whatever the fuck it is they think turns we women folk on.

live long and prosper, oh xy-ed ones.

i'm leaving again for the second time around. when i left you all stayed the same, and now i think it's pretty clear that i was never really alive

2006-12-06T00:54:00.000-05:00

i got tagged by pyro to do a meme, but i'm so out of the loop i really had no idea until he basically smacked me over the head and told me....so...i suppose i shall do that, yay!

there's some ghey ass rules that come along with it..but fuck that, because i fucking can't stand the system at the moment....so, if you feel like doing it feel free..if not, go fuck yourself and have a nice day. tee hee :)

six weird ass mother fucking things about none other than...me.

1. i can't not sing in the car. it's an impossibility for me to not sing while i'm in an automobile. i show more restraint in public places, but i'm usually busting out in song then too. basically, if there's music play...i'm singing.

2. as counter intuitive as it is, i honsetly do think that drug use saved my life in high school. i was the most miserable and depressed person imaginable during high school, and without the escape and "happy time" of mind altering substances, i really do think i would have killed myself. but, instead of going all the way..i just cut enough to feel good. sometimes, i still do.

3. i dye my hair fun colors, i wear punk rockish clothes, i have tattoos and some are visible, i have piercings...and one in my naughty place, i swear like a sailor, i'm a perv, i find disgusting warped shit awesome...and i'm a politically conservative little bitch. weird eh?

4. no matter how dark i get....no matter how much time i spend in the sun...no matter what i do, my hands are always ass white. i don't get it, i don't know how to change it...but, i think it constitutes weird.

5. i like winter. yea, i fucking said it. what now? and no, it's not just 'cause i get to snowboard to my orgasmic hearts delight. i really do enjoy cold weather, i love snow and nothing beats waking up and seeing a world blanketed in peaceful white....and there's something awesome about actually having sunshine. i have no idea why the sun shines more in cleveland during the winter than any other season, but i like it. that, and nothing beats turning on the fire place, snuggling up on the couch, and watching movies all night....a perfectly acceptable alternative to going out in the winter, and only the winter.

6. i have a routine that i follow when it comes to showering, putting make-up on, and going to bed...and when one thing gets thrown out of wack..i'm like a little lost puppy sitting there wondering what the fuck i'm doing and staring into oblivion with a big ol' pout. this isn't weird, until you think about how much i travel.....and traveling puts a giant kink into my routines, and staying at peoples places/hotels also puts a giant kink into things....so..just think of it as i'm usually in lost puppy mode in pouting.

there you go....i'm a fuckin weirdo. but, i have to say..not as weird as the idiots i call my bastard peers in law school. on monday i had to go to a bar for class, and actually talk to people..well, kind of..i mostly sat there and listened to them debate such fantastic topics as: why texas should secede from the union and why bush should be kind of the newly formed nation, such that the rest of the nation can be rid of that redder than red state and bush; what the constitutional phrase "we the people" really entails with regard to various states right and federal rights; how stressful law school is and how much the now effective smoking ban is going to make it much more stressful and much more difficult; and, my favorite, why new york city is an overrated city and why no one in their right mind should ever want to live there.

my! how nice! needless to say i had six glasses of wine in the two hours i sat there. i would have gone for more, but i didn't want the professor to think i was a total alcoholic lush. thank god no one even acknowledged my existence really, because i might have bludgeoned someone to death with my fendi purse.

in other exciting news, i've become a guitar hero II addict....so, ummm....yea...have a picture:

'tis the season to be jolly...and i hate the season. i hate being guilted into buying holiday gifts, i hate hearing christmas music constantly, i hate being told "merry christmas" by random people, and i hate the tacky ass mother fucking decorations people retardedly put on their house--not to be confused with effectively and artistically augmenting your house in a way that doesn't scream "white trash"---and i hate how i can't walk into a mall for nearly two months outside of the ripe time entitled the ass crack of down.

oh yea, i'm a grinch. bah mother fucking hum bug.

somehow i fell down by the wayside, and somehow this hell is my home. i have everything i need to make life completely revolting.

2006-12-03T19:02:00.000-05:00

i went on a date, it went decently well, he was fairly cute and very cool...and i'm fairly sure it was a one time deal. i will say that going out with a guy who is into the same things as me--in particular cars and music--and would talk about anything including disgusting fucked up shit that i seem to gross everyone out with...was fucking awesome, as was his cadillac thug-tastic belt buckle.

but that's not the point.

i was told by six distinctly different people this weekend that i have no idea how to take a compliment, and one of those times was after i told e about my date, and ended things with "but i doubt i'll see him again, so whatever. fun night, good time. that's about it."

"you always do that!"
"do what?"
"sell yourself completely short. you're awesome and if he doesn't talk to you ever again it's because he's either a fairy fuck, or he's intimidated by how beautiful and awesome you are. now shut up."
"hah, okay riiiiiiight. thanks e...anyway.."
"you don't believe me do you?"

and that's the point. i do.

it's not that i can't take compliments, so much as the minute kind words pass the lips of an onlooker it devitalizes me. it sends me into this unwarranted tizzy of my own fucked up ideologues. it sends me fleeing back into my own little head to fix the uproar those dulcet little words cause...

because things don't make sense. things don't flesh out in reality as they do in the make believe world of human interaction, niceties, and euphonious phrases...and the lack of parity between the two diametrically antipodal worlds has gone from being a smile and a heart felt "thank you," to a forced smile, a "thank you" through clenched teeth, and my self esteem plumetting to unknown levels of low.

it's completely antithetical to the whole purpose of a compliment, i know.

but there comes a point when things go from being "it will be" to "it'll happen eventually" to "maybe" to "it probably won't happen for me, but it could" to buried in the landscape of the mind with a headstone that reads "here lies a hope...a dream...an aspiration. may it rest in peace and atone for the sin of causing a pilgrimage to a non-existent holy land and for causing an onslaught of misplaced effort and undue reveries.".....and i'm almost a hop, skip, and a jump away from the metaphorical funeral.

yea, i know i'm twenty-four (almost twenty-five....dear god, that's scary), but it's been three very, very, very long years....and it doesn't pan out to me. if i am as pretty, and fun, and awesome, and perfect as everyone iterates to me...if complete strangers walking down the street can stop just to tell me i'm very attractive...if every guy i have a long standing relationship with can look me in the eye and say that they just want to meet a girl who has a kick ass personality like me.......then how come i'm sitting here completely alone, not a single prospect in sight, with rejection after rejection mounting into what appears to be the emotional equivalent of quartering.

so...it's not that i can't take a compliment...it's not that i don't believe what people tell me...it's that it hurts to hear people say things so nectareous...

it hurts a lot...

and it's gotten to be so much that it's almost impossible to consolidate the absolute divergence between the opinions people have of me, and the reality of the ways things are for me.

"if you ~~don't~~ have anything nice to stay, don't say anything at all"

who knew my rules would be so fucked up?

tattoed love boys-i tore my knees up getting to you. i was a good time, i got pretty good. i shot my mouth off and you showed me what that hole is for

2006-11-30T01:21:00.000-05:00

to anyone who gives a shit:

i don't have scabies! boo yea motha fuckah. i never really thought i did because even reading the description on webmd, which basically said "you're itchy"...i didn't have the itching on my hands, and the bumps didn't have any method...like, say a burrowing mite would have. so, that's pretty fucking sweet, but it still begs the question of what the fuck is wrong with my skin. i'm really not keen on figuring out what the fuck i've developed an allergy to...because it can't be the dryer sheets since i spent all of last week at my parents house and it got worse. for now, i say fuck it...i shall bathe in the steroid cream she gave me and hope it will go away. i'm going to have the softest skin known to man between the 'roid cream and slathering myself in moisturizer everytime i start to get itchy....which is nearly hourly. who wants to feel the softness?

apparently some dumbfuck lawyer decided to represent a blind woman who thought it would be a good idea to sue the united states treasury for not making the paper currency of this country distinguishable. a dollar, feels like a fifty....and that poor little blind woman think it's discrimination and unfair, and that shit headed lawyer saw dollar signs, and the judge who heard the case actually fucking agreed. i totally understand that blind people are perfectly self sustaining individuals, and i admit it's a bit unfair that there is no way for someone to tell a buck apart from a fiddy...but it's pretty much been like that since the first paper money was printed, and for all these years no one has had a problem with it...and now, with our retarded "politically correct" society, it's an issue that warrants completely overhauling united states currency. fucking ghey! i hate lawyers.

i'm going to israel! *does the happy naked dance* how much do my parents rock? they're sending me and my bro to israel for a week and a half during my spring break...and we get to do whatever the fuck we want. you best believe i am going on a hunt to find the jewish man of my dreams...'cause if he ain't there, well? he doesn't exist and i can happily move on.

while making my schedule for the month of december---yes, i am that anal retentive--i realized that i only have five finals because i have to write a ton of papers and do a ton of projects; however, it then dawned on me that those five finals are on two days, and two days only. i'm so fucking screwed. to anyone who has to talk to me...and/or deal with me in the next two weeks, let me apologize now for being a complete psycho.

unlike most people who just tell me to fuck off when i get into self deprecating mode, my friend joe took a more pro-active approach after hearing it for a few months, and basically has made me his work out bitch. so, on top of muy thai and my daily runs, i got more running, a ton of weight training, and a diet that consists of protien shakes, protein bars, tuna fish, fruit cups, and water. i have to say, it has been a fucking horrible four months of that shit, and i especially wanted to take him out when he decided to double my already 6 mile daily runs, and cut out more of my caloric intake...and i nearly killed him when he sat there eating a twelve pack of ice cream sandwiches while yelling at me to keep doing more chest press reps, but the fucker knows what he is doing--and he does, he's a personal trainer and nutritionist. i'm nowhere near where i want to be, but i have to admit i'm rather impressed with this pic ry took

i know it's not a smart idea to take a nap in the sun room while you're three best friends are the only people at home with you, but i did it....and i got harassed like no fucking other. showcased in this lovely photo is e's hand going in for the "poke of death"---ie you pinch my side and i fly up into the air and squeal like a little pig...and in preparation, the "suck it in of defeat"--ie i tense up and pray i don't fly and squeal too badly.

for what it's worth, i had a blast spending time with all of them again...and i hate to admit it but i missed having ry in my life. but he's back...for better or for worse....so the four fucktards are united, and offending people all over. anyway....

and if anyone does taxes for a living, feel free to contact me and do my tax project for me....not that i don't want to waste over eight hours preparing every single fucking tax form required for this bullshit hypothetical....but i have better shit to do.....like moisturize and scratch myself.

you don't pay rent and i get no action. i can't leave you if you won't leave my apartment, you've got to go and set me free. don't you still want me?

2006-11-27T13:00:00.000-05:00

random thoughts....travel edition:
because sitting with no more than 3 oz of clear liquid
and pointless delays are a primetime to blog it out.

...when i was in high school i used to have a pixie hair cut, which for anyone out there who is totally clueless was a popular women's haircut in the late nineties and pretty much meant you had disgustingly short hair that was spiked up in the back, and slightly less disgustingly short hair in the front that was against your face. . anyway, i saw a guy--about high school age--with a pixie cut. LISTEN UP MEN! i understand and appreciate this movement in which men take care of themselves, but matching clothes, skin care and hair products, and smelling good are more than enough. stop with the other shit....unless you enjoy looking like/acting like/taking as long to get ready as a female. i've seen men wearing more eyeliner than i do, and sporting tighter pants than any nutsack should have to endure. enough already. it's not stylish, it's not hot, it's just a sign you're on a path to being a total homosexual. [fucking emos!]

...while waiting to through the metal detector machine thingy, the guy asked me if i had a shirt underneath the long sleeve shirt i was wearing....to which i said "yes"...and he than asked me to remove the long sleeve shirt to reveal my tank top....and no bra. while i was removing my long sleeve shirt, this woman looked over at the guy who asked me to take it off, rolled her eyes and then said "sorry" to me....makes me wonder if it's a security measure i take it off, or that guy being a total fucking pervert.

...dear parents: your kids, your responsibility. i'm single, i'm young, i don't have kids...thus? i am not looking at the ground to make sure i'm not going to run into your little shithead who is on some spazztic crash course throughout the airport. make sure your little bundle of annoyance doesn't run into people, not vice versa.

...three cheers to wrongly labelling the departure gate for my flight on every single fucking "information": screen within the airport. i understand that a 2 and a 1 are very close to each other on the keyboard, but someone in the amass of employees who really, to my knowledge, serve no real function other than to get self rightous and condescending when you actually have a reason to talk to them--which is usually a legitimate "your airline fucked up" reason. anyway, someone in that giant group of workers--and i use that term loosely because i'm really not sure how talking to your croanies equates to really working, but whatever--would have figured out that the departure gate was 12 and not 11. goddamn my misplaced faith in humanity! damn it to hell!

...to the woman who had her toddler son use the restroom while she waited outside the door: YOU ROCK! good lord, she should teach classes on motherhood, or something.

...why is that everytime i fly, i feel like absolute shit once the world goes from normal gravitational force and psi pressure to "cabin pressure"? it feels like my sinuses are going to bulge out of my eyes and like my head is going to implode. yummmmy!

...in an effort to be like every other american, i decided to jump on the dryer sheet bangwagon. my mom never used them, so i never used them because--and you can deny this all you want--everything you do, you usually do because your momma did it. anyway, i was curious to see what all the hype was about [for those wondering, no..i don't own an iron, i never have ironed anything in my life, and my clothes are never wrinkled..so boo yeyeah!]. bad idea. i've never been so fucking tichy in my entire life, and when i start to scratch the area breaks out into these hive like bumps. i actually have woken up in the middle of the night the past couple of days because i was so fucking itchy. so on top of scratching to the point of having engraved nail lines in my skin and to the point of actually bleeding, i have to rewash my entire closet of clothes and all of my towels and linens because my bitch ass skin is so fucking sensitive that anything that came in contact with the shit washed with the dryer sheets will make me continue to scratch my first layer of skin away.

...guitar hero II: best. fucking. game. EVER. after ssx tricky of course. buy it. you will not be disappointed, and you will not notice you have no social life.

...sofie got kennel cough [aka a respiratory infection]. what's strange is that i dropped her off on wednesday and when i arrived at my parents humble abode, i got a phone call saying that she had commenced coughing. that means one of two things: one, she actually got it from day care, which means a dog there is infected and i need to talk to the super sweet owner and make sure that they are watching the dogs to make sure no one is coughing and seperating them because i'm not too keen on spending another sixty plus bucks on antibiotics and cough supressants; or two: shit is so bad at the vet's kennel, they opted to start her on antibiotics and a cough supressant so as a preventative measure. i'm rooting for option two, because the last thing i need is to have to keep sofie home during the next few weeks from daycare because i have a shit-load of finals to study for, a giant tax project, and a thesis to polish and make bomb ass.

...mentos give me heart burn....who knew?!

...my family is fantastically small [yay hitler...that mass murdering fuck head], and the fact that my dad's sister is just a royal fucking idiot has made things a lot smaller. basically it's my momma, daddy, brother, me, gramps, and my uncle...and ocassionally my uncle's daughters. anyway, my dad's royal fucking idiot sister couldn't afford to fly her son home for thanksgiving [yet managed to afford a ps3....that make sense to anyone else? or am i just that mean?], so my pappy--the closet tender hearted soul he is--said her son could come to our place for thanksgiving. now, keep in mind that my dad's royal fucking idiot sister's husband despises my parents to the point of actually wishing upon them death. so, imagine how happy i was to be sitting there next to tweedle fucker and tweedle asshat's son, as he goes on and on about how wonderful his parents are while he's sitting in my parents house for thanksgiving because his mom didn't want to spend money to fly him home, and while my parents have to cosign all of his loans because his parents thought it was a better use of money to buy his father a bmw than save money for his college. i deserve a medal for not opening my mouth and just sitting there while he went on and on about his family.

...my flight from albany to cleveland was delayed for no apparent reason, for four hours. there have to be rules against that...no? and while i'm bitching about airport procedure, is it really that far fetched to have a screen that says on top of a plans arrival, the baggage claim number? i mean, as much fun as it is to play "find my carousel" i think it's fairly unecessary. no?

...my constant itching hasn't stopped, so after i got home last night at midnight...as opposed to the expected eight o'clock at night...i surfed webmd to find reasons for constant itching and solutions. what did i come up with? i have scabies, cancer, or both. fuck!

...my patriots are number two in the nation. muhaha bitches!

...blogging. i'm slacking on that front lately, and i know that. it's not that i don't absolutely love it, and it's not that i don't love having a window into other peoples lives....and it's certainly not that i don't read everyone's blog who appears in my blogroll [really, i read it all. sick eh?]...i just have nothing to comment on, or nothing worthwhile to comment on because i get there so late because of how busy i've been lately. i also have nothing worthwhile to write about on my own blog because i'm in a hole, so to speak, and i'm not averted to using this place as my sounding board and my outlet, but it's not like me to be visibly constantly in a rut. i'm not the kind of person who shows their emotions or how they feel easily, and i'm not the kind of person who likes to unload, and as a result of the relationships i've developed with my beloved readers....writing out what ails me has taken on the appeal of dumping. i know all signs point to me being relatively fucked in the head...but the funk that has characterized 2006 hasn't even remotely lifted, and i'm not too keen on dragging everyone down with my own stupid plights. so please don't take my absence the wrong way, and please don't take my lack of comments as me being a total bitch. i'm not crawling into myself, mostly because i don't think i can crawl any further....but i'm also not waving a flag of my adversity for all of blogland, because, quite honestly, it's not fair to you all and it's a terrible indication of who i am.

hope everyone had an awesome turkey day =0)

you've got to teach me how to live, because you make me want to die. you took it all away,now all i've got are words of wisdom from your tyrant mouth

2006-11-16T00:57:00.000-05:00

i know i promised i'd be more prevalent in blog land this week, but...well...apparently i lied. well, not lied, but i seemed to have misappropriated the time i would have spent on blog land doing other shit that is really not nearly as fun....like writing another fucking thesis for god know's what reason....learning the income tax code for another exam....and plotting ways to sue the fuck out of time warner cable, who will go down...oh yes, mark my words...they will...but i'll explain that later.

and might as well start later now...

as i said in a previous post, time warner has decided it'd be really fucking awesome to disconnect my cable, and to make it even more fun they would disconnect my cable for their own fucking errors. long story short, i moved...and in moving, i closed the account at my previous apartment and opened an account at my current apartment. the bank, for some reason, failed to update their records for payment and continued to post payment to my old account, and because no payment had been posted to my new account for four months time warner disconnectd my shiz. i called my bank, straightened things out with them..then called time warner, and seemingly straightened my shit out with them too. my cable was turned back on.

one week later, i got a knock on my door...and guess who it was? a time warner representative! he was there to take my cable box away, unless i was going to pay the minimum payment due to my account. i then had to explain to him what was happening, but c'mon...he's there to pick up a cable box and he has no idea what was going....so i write him a check for the minimum amount do and proceeded to call time warner, again, to see what the fuck was going on. once again, i was assured that things were taken care of, and oh...as always "sorry for any inconvenience, thank you for choosing time warner" as if i had a choice in my cable company..seeing as they have a fucking monopoly, and bought the company that used to provide my cable and therefore got my account.

one week after that, on the day payment for month number was due, my cable was disconnected again. i called in, and low and behold, no one did shit about transferring the funds fro my old account to my new account, which would have led to a credit balance on my current account. nope, no one. so, i had to explain the entire thing over again to another dumbass service representative, who, once again turned my cable on and assured me that things were taken care of.

three days after that, my cable was once again disconnected. i called in, and was told it was disconnected for failure to make payments in total of five months....so, once again i had to explain what happened. the dipshit representative, only then, decided to look at my account and noticed that there was a request put in for a transfer of the funds, and that no one had approved it yet, and since three days had past--because three is always the magic number--and no payment was made to my account, therefore my cable was disconnected. after about ten minutes of me fairly calmly explaining to this broad that disconnecting my cable for their own bureaucratic lethargy, and error is ludicrous, especially given the fact that they know they are going to get payment as soon as someone gets off their fat ass and decides to approve the fund transfer.

three days later, which would be tuesday november fourteenth, my cable was disconnected yet again; however, this time it was permanently. yup, no more click the mouse and it's turned back on...this time to get it reconnected someone actually has to come to my apartment building and re-connect me. fantastic...i explained to yet another dumbfuck customer service representative who probably is the educational equivalent of my dog what was going on, and, of course she couldn't do anything and because i was calling rather late--after class at 9pm--her supervisor wasn't there for me to talk to, and she decided to be uber kind and waive the reconnection fee. when is the next avaialble date for reconnection? november twenty-second. yup! to get some fat ass in a time-warner van to swing by my apartment for about ten minutes and flip a few switches is going to take at least a week and a half of waiting on my own part; yet, she also said she would try to have someone come out and do it on the fifteenth and would have her supervisor call me.

well, it's almost midnight on the fifteenth, and no one has bothered to call me. meanwhile, approximately four-hundred dollars is sitting in an account that was closed by me, and that, regardless of that fact, is not connected to any service, an additional two hundred dollars is missing from my account in order to retain my cable box and modem as a result of their dumb-fuckery, and i am without cable internet and tv.

that is where my extreme desire to fuck them over has taken a new life....because, guess what? they weren't entitled to that four hundred dollars they received in the first place, and that entire sum of money should not be sitting there in a defunct account because the first payment that posted to the account after my closing it should have been returned to the bank...thus? all four hundred and some dollars just sitting there awaiting transfer to my current account--should that ever fucking happen--was rather fraudulently obtained because i closed the account when i opened my current account, and even regardless of that, they are not entitled to collect payment for services they never rendered...which, they can't have rendered because the account is inactive, as verified by the woman i talked to last night concerning why time warner are a bunch of fucking cable nazi's and enjoy punishing people for their own issues. moreover, i am without an internet connection (in theory, seeing as i can swipe it from someone else in the building, but shh) which is critical to my educational endeavors, the payment of all my bills and keeping my finances in order, and is central to my employment. oh yes, they fuck up...and have fucked me out of getting my class assignments, and adequately doing my part time legal job. furthermore, i refuse to pay any portion of my montly payment for which i was disconnected from service, because it's their fault i was disconnected to begin with, and i'll be fucking damned if i'm going to pay for an entire week and a half of service that i didn't even get because they decide to take their sweet ass time in approving an influx of money, but not when it comes to disconnecting someone.

so, while i peruse pertinent statutes to see if i actually have any kind of case against the fuckers (other than the fact they are a monopoly), any input would be appreciated. i may be a legal-bitch in training, but my real world experience is pretty non-existent, especially because i avoid all tort and criminal aspects like it's the mother fucking plague.

and to top it all off, my secured transactions professor has pneumonia...and thus we now have a new professor. prior to starting with the new professor, the dean told us that should the original professor not be well enough to write an exam, we would all just receive a pass for the class, and that's it. now, i'm thinking that's a prettyt sweet deal...because not only do i get an automatic pass for the class, but that's also one less exam i have to study for....but, in a spectacle that my law-student-hating-ass couldn't have even anticipated....my fellow classmates were actually rather livid over this situation. why? i have no fucking idea....but they are rather pissed they took a class and may not get a grade for it. what the fuck is wrong with them?! take the fucking pass, take the fact you have one less exam to study for, and shut your fucking mouths already.

and, as if that all weren't enough to make me question the validity of the first commandment that so affectionately says "thou shalt not kill," i get a call from my vet today regarding sofie's boarding next week...it seems that there is a fuck-all strain of kennel cough working it's way through the kennel community of ohio, and they wanted me to know that before i dropped her off for boarding so that i may make other arrangements should i so choose. so...after basically telling me that this fuck-all strain of kennel cough is in every kennel they have talked to, they really have left me lots of leeway to make other arrangements? not to mention it's thanksgiving and i'm guessing that everywhere is probably booked, seeing as i had to make these arrangements back in july. to make matters even more fun, should she get this fuck-all strain of kennel cough, i will have to pay for the treatment...seriously, it really is like having a child.

in other not so fascinating news, i got my hair did....and it looks exactly the same:

makes me wonder why i pay so much, you know?

anyway, i'm going home for turkey day...so not sure how much time i'll have to post seeing as i'm going to have to fight my mother for the computer, and that's a battle i rarely ever win on account of her being a lot bigger and way more overbearing than i may ever be. thus, i want to wish you all a great weekend, a fantastic week, and a balls-to-the-walls mother fucking awesome turkey day =0)

it feels worthless. it feels like i've lost al my value that i can't ever be wanted, and i'm just scared-so scared-that i'll fail you.

2006-11-14T04:23:00.000-05:00

i need you...

to get out of my thoughts, to get out of my reveries, to disappear from existence every time i close my eyes, because this can't be normal...this can't be natural...and it's certainly not normal or natural to me.

every time i slip slightly from actuality there you are, or at least what i think you are and it can't be commonplace to fantasize about a potential pigment in a rainbow built on impossibility...

impracticability...

unfeasability.

no. that's the sort of thing for dreamers. that's the kind of thing optimistic people do....they look out into the future and see an endless stream of possibilities and think nothing teeters that fine line of futile. that's the kind of thing people who truly do move on without so much as a scrape from the war zone and wreckage brought on by the ghosts of relationship past...

unlike the majority of us who say we've moved on, act like we've moved on, and silently lick our wounds when it's damn near impossible for anyone to be looking, and if they are looking, well...then all bets are off, but the truth won't ever pass go , collect a chance at verbalization, and buy property on the lavish road entitled "i'm vulnerable, i'm uncomfortable, and i'm human."

fortitude finds few and it certainly stopped looking for me...and my wounds have festered into a blistering boil of diffidence and timorousness.

so please...

get out of my head....leave my thoughts...disappear when i close my eyes. kindly turn around when i reach a new level of sexual apex, even though that climb was all because of you.

my heart can't flutter on a wing and a near impossible prayer...and i'm far to fragile to handle the inevitable plummet that all the cards in the world have concluded is the only possible way for this incubus to end. the only thing at the end of this rainbow built on droplets of unthinkable, is a rain cloud filled with my tears.

you've made me into a dreamer...something i'm not meant to be...

that's why i need you...

to go...

so i can end this nightmarish discomposure...

i need you...

don't turn your back on me, take a look at where you want to be. don't be scared of what you see, the only one dying here is me, don't let me down.

2006-11-12T21:35:00.000-05:00

1. we got a new bar manager. she. is. fucking. crazy. i shit you not, i showed up at nine on thursday night to work, and she pulled me aside to say she quit....then, magically she un-quit, quit again, un-quit yet again..and that was all before midnight. then, as we're closing up, she has this huge temper tantrum, starts screaming and flailing, and then storms out of the bar...only to walk back in and tell the new bartender, rich, when to pick her up tomorrow. fucking nut job. think it's time to quit....again.

2. usually my utter disdain for fashion lies in the choices women make about what they wear; however, this one is for all my dick-toting mother fuckers. what the fuck is up with the sport jacket, t-shirt, and jeans look? are you going to bust out a pink polo and pop the collar next? it's ridiculous, it looks like shit, and preppy was a horrible, horrible, HORRIBLE, look back then..so why do you think it'll be a good look now? it's the equivalent of the mighty disgusting legging makeing a come back among the female population....it looks ridiculous in the 80's, it looks ridiculous now. stop with the sport jackets, or i will be forced to make fun of you even more than i already do.

3. i saw broken social scene this past friday...which was an awesome show, should you completely overlook all the disgusting hippies wandering around. anyway, during the show, one of the aforementioned disgusting hippies accidentally threw his cigarette, and it landed right between where me and some dude were standing. the guy had the gall to tap me on the shoulder and ask if i would be so kind as to pick it up and give it back to him. when i said "no" the guy gave me this look like i just killed his mother, then proceeded to call a bitch and other expletives. now, normally i don't give a shit when people make it a point to call me out on being a bitch, but dude! i just saved you from putting a cigarette which is laying on the floor of a concert hall that has probably not been washed since the place opened in your mouth. that doesn't make me a bitch, that makes me rather nice, i'd say.

4. i realize i live in ohio. i realize that everyone in ohio seems to be a die hard osu fan...i realize that ohio hates michigan and michigan hates ohio...and i realize that, while no one gives a fuck about the browns because they pretty much suck, this is buckeye country...but, is it really necessary to honk your horn at me, stop your car to yell at me, or make a comment about the sweatshirt i'm wearing, which coincidently says "michigan" on it. i'm not a michigan fan...i'm a fan of staying warm, and sometimes it's easier to throw a sweatshirt on rather than put a big coat on, especially when sitting in a classroom is involved. fuck off with the derogative comments about me because of the sweatshirt, already. you're the number one rank team in the league...i think that's more than enough validation that you guys rule, okay? fuck off!

5. i have nothing against people who smoke, honestly...mostly because i smoke....so, take it with a grain of salt when i say this to all ye smokers out there: stop fucking bitching, stop saying it's unfair that you can't smoke in bars, stop saying that the government is impinging on your freedoms, stop going on and on about how this is a total stripping of your rights and your freedom to choose. stop. why? because the exact same arguments can be used for those people who don't smoke sitting in a bar. not to mention, as someone who does work in a bar, it'd be really nice not to have to separate my closet into "clothes that shall forever reek of smoke" section and the "acceptable to wear out in public" section...because there comes a point where you just can't wash out the smell. it passed, it's not going to magically go away...so stop bitching about it and get used to the idea tht you won't be able to have a beer in one hand, and a cigg in the other...unless you're outside...in which case, bundle up. winter is here. tee hee!

you've been done with me, but i'm too close to leave. you animate the sin in me and with you i can leave reality. you're the enemy i need to leave.

2006-11-09T00:01:00.000-05:00

time warner cable. v. me:

i switched apartments; therefore, i had to close the account at my former apartment and open up a new cable account at my current apartment. no big deal, right? so i thought; however, my bank forgot to update the account number and rather than posting payment to my new account, they were posting payment to my old account. i had no idea, really, until a guy showed up at my door saying he was going to take my cable box if i didn't pay the minimum balance on the account. now, i'm one argumentative little whore...but, i realize there are some people that just aren't there for me to get my argumentation-on with because they really have no idea, and they really can't do anything; thus, i paid the dude and kept my cable box and called time warner to ask them why they hadn't received my payments....to which the customer service lady said she would have someone call me within four hours. no one called. fast forward a month to yesterday, when my cable was shut off completely. i call to ask why:

"your cable was shut off because your account shows a default balance of four monthly payments. if you'd like to take care of that over the phone with a credit card, i'd be more than happy to turn your cable back on."
"what do you mean a default of four months?"
"no payment has been posted to your account in four months m'am"
"well, i called a month ago when i was supposedly in default, explained to them that the bank has been posting the payment to my previous account, and was told that someone would call me back in four hours. no one called, and payment was still made by my bank."
"well, that sounds like something you need to take up with your bank."
"no, it doesn't. my bank paid someone, and that someone is you...so unless you're engaging in some fraudulent scheme to get money, there is no reason that money should have ever been received to pay an account that was closed well over six months ago. my bank shows payment for the past four months, which means there is at minimum about $400.00 floating around your system that was illegally obtained since i closed the account they posted to, and thus Time Warner has no right to receive or retain that money. if you'd like, i'd be more than willing to involve my bank, and a law enforcement agency to figure out what's going on, although i'd rather you just involve you."

ta dow, motha fuckers. miraculously, they found my old account with a credit balance of well over four hundred dollars in it, officially closed the account they should have closed six months ago, and credited it to my current acount....and turned my cable back on. ain't nobody gonna keep me from watching nip/tuck....tee hee!

law students v. me:

i'm required to take a class entitled "theories of justice," which is basically a philisophical venture into the who-gives-a-fuck meaning of the word "justice." for some reason, there is this basic posulate that justice entails those things that people are entitled to...and for some reason no one in my class found a problem with that...and, of course, for some reason i did. i keep my mouth shut because there seriously would be mutiny on my ass if i actually raised my hand and questioned the basic premise that people are entitled to things, because for some reason law school seems to be the scholastic equivalent of tree-hugging-fucktard. these are the same people that looked at me like i was fucking insane when i actually argued that the incarceration of one innocent person along with ten guilty people was just dandy and how it should be, whereas letting ten guilty people go free just so that innocent person remains out of jail is simply ludicrous.

but, i really don't see how mere existence gives anyone an entitlement to anything. sure, empathetically it seems only natural to assume that existence begets an entitlement to nourishment and shelter, as well as other basic needs....but, that's not intrinsic to existence. that's an effect of the subsequent societal communities we participate in. simply existing in the most terse sense, though? yea, congrats...you're alive...that's about it. it's the same as this notion of equality: everyone should be equal. yea, sure...it makes sense because we live in a society where equality is stressed...but, you can't just say people should be equal...you have to say equal as to something in particular, otherwise it makes no sense....and that "equal as to what" is what makes equality such a farcical notion because that "as to what" aspect shifts from community to community..

...hmm, okay...that probably makes no sense, and i really am just a cold hearted bitch...alright! moving on!

e v. mascara:

i really have no idea where make-up companies got this idea that women want their eyelashes to transgress the full, long, and natural looking realm...and go straight into looking like they took spider legs and glued them onto their lash line, but it's a bit ridiculous. i'm all for awesome lashes, but some of this shit on the market is just frightening and almost nature defying. if god didn't give you thick, long, lashes...then suck it up and get fake ones...but don't propogate the make-up companies coming up with frightening solutions that make your eyelashes look disturbing and arachnid like. it's mascara...not a miracle.

e v. some random chick on myspace:

this wasn't so much a battle of any sort, it just amused the fuck out of me. in a fit of boredom, i actually logged into myspace today for the first time in about two weeks...and there it was, just sitting there...a message from someone i've never conversed with in my entire life. i opened it, only to find that it wasn't from this random dude i've never talked to...but to see it was from his girlfriend. the e-mail said, and i quote: "hey i was on my boyfriends myspace account and i found all these messages between you two and he claims "that girl is fucking sick what the hell would i want with a fucking whore like that" so i was wondering if you would write me back telling me the name or if you remember the number that he gave you to call him on?? i'd appreciate it and i mean come on if you fucked around with my boyfriend you should have enough respect to give me the name he gave you. i mean it could have been his disgusting friend that has STDs cause you look like the kinda girl he'd be attracted to thanks" so, not only did i get a message from someone i don't know, but that message was from that someone's girlfriend who hacked into his account, and was asking if i had ever fucked him. to make it even more funny, this girl is seventeen years old....and the age of the dude who's account she used is twenty four....so, while she sits there judging me as a whore simply because she's an insecure bitch who has yet to figure out that guys don't like jealous bitches who hack into their accounts to 'cause nothing more than drama....she's engaging in a little something we call statutory rape.

anyway, a year ago today i went out on a horrible date with some jewish dude who wound up watching the basketball game and drinking himself under the table, while i chit chatted with anyone sitting around me...and i looked like this:

and about seven years ago circa sometime this month, my band in highschool played the "battle-o-the-bands"...and i sounded like i just sucked on a tank of helium, and we sounded like this. thank god all those years of smoking, drug use, and drinking caught up with me...oh, and i hit puberty..'cause now i have a rather "low" voice for a chick and now sound like this**.

and with that, i bid y'all a . now if you'll excuse me i'm going to pray i don't die. between working five nights this week, writing a thesis, taking two tests, and having what could be the flu....or could be sleep deprivation manifesting itself in the most shitty way, i'm beyond running on fumes..i'm running on sheer insanity. sorry i've been mia from blogland this week....i shall be back with a vengeance, i promise.

good god, i'd give anything for a bed right now...

**do not ask me how drunk i was when that was recorded. seriously, don't. i couldn't even tell you, because i don't even remember anything from that night other than showing up at the venue and being handed drink after drink, after drink...and around 10pm, i lose all recollection.

this prayer is for me tonight, i'm this far down the line and i still haven't got it right.i never armed my soul for what the future could hold.

2006-11-07T01:03:00.000-05:00

first...new songs have been uploaded for your listening [dis] pleasure. if no one gives a fuck, for the love of all christ let me know so i stop wasting time and making my ulcer sputter trying to upload the fucking things. k? k!

oh...and just to get this off my chest: this.is.fucking.ridiculous. really, it is. it's bad enough that you get a fucking postcard in the mail if things are all clear and a phone call if things aren't "normal," but the fact i get a mother fucking phone call every fucking time? i'm tired of this. if something is wrong, then let there be something wrong. i'd almost rather have something horribly wrong with me than have to go through this repeatedly, and the subsequent tests...just to get a "everything is fine, come back in two months for a repeat" and then have the whole thing happen again. i'm done. doctors are now on boycott.

anyway....i got "tagged" by nat simply by reading the post....so...uhm, enjoy?

1. explain what ended your last relationship?
he seemed to have tripped and fell, and his dick magically landed in another girls vah-jay-jay....repeatedly...for 6 months prior to us "breaking up" which was done via aol instant messenger because he didn't want to go get his phone from the living room and actually talk to me. that's love. especially after nearly three years together....oh yea.

2. when was the last time you shaved?
this morning. i swam for most of my life...shaving is just shower habit now...plus, if you let the hoo-hoo go, it gets itchy like a mother fucker and that ain't cool baby.

3. what were you doing at 8am this morning?
i was in class. that's all i do...go to class, and work.

4. what were you doing 15 minutes ago?
staring at the computer screen, and trying really fucking hard not to snap on the idiot next to me who is listening to his ipod during class insanely loud. give me fifteen more minutes and i i'm sure the answer will be "bitch smacking the fuck out of him."

5. are you good at math?
per societal standards? yes. per the familial standard? i fucking blow.

6. your prom night?
what about it? i didn't get laid, if that's what your asking. my high school boyfriend wouldn't even go with me. i went all four years of high school...and i hated it every single time.

7. do you have famous ancestors?
i probably did, but that mass murdering fuckhead hitler probably killed 'em all. i actually am a descendant of the vikings...i guess that's pretty cool. who wants me to rape and pillage them?

8. have you had to take a loan out for school?
nope. i'm fortunate enough to have parents that value mine [and my brother's] education over their own material needs etc. granted, it did give them an immense power over my course of action academically, but hey...sometimes that isn't always bad

9. do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile?
i know the words to almost every song in my itunes...yup...all four thousand eight hundred songs, and seeing as i made a playlist for my myspace from my itunes...i'm going to have to logically conclude that yea, i know the words to the songs on my myspace.

10. last thing received in the mail?
contacts. still waiting for the letter from the mayor of whatever town it was that suspended my license, so i can take it to the dmv..pay more money..and continue to drive around, except do it legally rather than illegally.

11. how many different beverages have you had today?
water, green tea, and two beers...the third is coming up as soon as i finish typing this sentence. cheers.

12. do you ever leave messages on peoples answer machines?
i don't think i've called anything but a cell phone in the past four years..so no. no i haven't. i don't leave voicemail either..mostly because i have this horrible habit of babbling to no end.

13. who did you lose your concert virginity to?
oh god, this is horrible. it was bush. first concert i went sans family member to...i moshed, i body surfed, i smoked more weed than i ever had before...woo, it was good times. even if it was bush.

14. do you draw your name in the sand when you go the beach?
nope. i'm usually in the water. go figure.

15. what is the most painful dental procedure you have had?
hmmm, it wasn't painful but it sounds wretched: before i had braces i had to have an expander placed on my upper jaw that basically cracked my upper pallet...so three times a day my mom shoved a key into the device, and cranked it..sounds awesome huh?

16. what is out your back door?
hmmmm is this the backdoor to my house? or the one to my body? either way, i live in an apartment, and outside of my own personal back door is pants.

17. any plans for friday night?
going to see broken social scene...hopefully it won't be alone, but i'm learning not to put faith in what my friends say.

18. do you like what the ocean does to your hair?
yes. yes. yes. is that clear enough? i have insanely thick and heavy hair...and when my hair was black i looked asian from the black 'cause my hair is so straight. little salt water..and my hair does this funky wavy thing, and isn't so fucking heavy.

19. have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 diferent popcorns?
i have no idea what the fuck you are talking about...but i don't eat popcorn in public[read: in front of other people]...so if i did get it, it'd be tossed rather quickly

20. have you ever been to a planetarium?
that's one of the few cool things to do in cleveland...that's how shitty this city is.

21. do you re-use towels after you shower?
i use two towels. the towel i use to dry off my body gets three days, and the towel i use on my face and hair gets one day...i do a lot of laundry y'all 'cause i shower three times a day usually.

22. some things you are excited about?
i don't know anymore. everytime i let myself get excited...something goes counter to that high. might as well circumvent the potency of the inevitable low.

23. what is your favorite flavor of jello?
orange...although, i haven't had jello since i was about ten, so that may have changed.

24. describe your keychain(s)?
apartment key, car key, parents house key, mail key, and an eeyore.

25. we regret to inform you that question twenty-five has been omitted on account of it's public display's of nudity, and it's torrid affair with the crack rock. he has entered himself into rehab, and asks for your prayers such that he may have a speedy recovery. don't forget to see his piece of shit movie and/or buy his poor excuse for an album. holla!

26. where do you keep your change?
in my giant "starbucks-shanghai" cup i got while i was over there. if you are thinking about coming and stealing it..just know that i live in a city, and thus quarters are used daily for parking...and if you do come in and steal it you'll just have a big cup full of pennies and nickels. oh, and you'll be forced to hang out with me, too. not worth it man. not worth it.

27. what kind of winter coat do you own?
i have a lot...seeing as it's winter here for 9 months. i have a fendi, dkny, and kenneth coal trench coats....a burberry down coat....and yea, they're all black. i also have my snowboarding coats. yee haw. a little over a month until orgasmic boarding commences!

28. what was the weather like on your graduation day?
high school? sunny. undergrad? sunny. i think graduation is placed in the end of may and beggining of june for that purpose...you know?

29. do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed?
when i lived with other people, it would be closed...now that i live alone...what's the point? i don't even close the door when i shower anymore...besides, my dog and cat can come and go as they please.

30. whoever wants to do this lil ol thang...well then tag yourself.

try to let go of your truth and the battles of your youth, because this is no longer a game. it's a beautiful lie created by your denial.

2006-11-05T18:07:00.000-05:00

reality has a strange way of sneaking up on you. reality has an even stranger way of codifying your greatest fermentations.

i was thinking about how i only have a year left in this decrepit waste of a landmass affectionately referred to as the "mistake on the lake" when the invisible hand of reality reached out from the passenger side of my car and bitch smacked me into a state of total misrule. there i was, driving home from grocery shopping on a tuesday night...and there i was, crying.

it's funny how a simple thought can take you from dandy to arrant fear. not funny in a "ha ha" way, but funny in a way that it opens up avenues your mind either never knew existed or just ignored at all possible costs, and there you are smack in the middle of these never-before-seen avenues trying to find a way to something viable...logical...

something exultant.

it finally dawned on me that i can't flutter around this world on a whim like i've grown so accustomed to doing. it finally occurred to me that i can't simply idealize some locale in my mind, move there, and then hop to the next locale when the idealized version doesn't pan out. my next move has to have meaning to it, and my next move will have a finality to it that i've never really had to experience before. it finally got through my stubborn thick skull that i'm going to be a lawyer...or an accountant...or a super shitty hybrid...that i'm going to work insane amounts of hours...that i'm not going to do something creative, exciting, and "fun" with my life.

it eventuated that i have to grow up and finally let go of what i want to do with my life, and accept what i will do with my life.

i've always viewed life as an endless possibility of options. why settle down and focus on one thing when there's a whole world to see and experience? and as a result of my childhood, which revolved around moving every three to four years, i can't seem to sit still. i mean, i moved four apartments down simply because the idea of staying in my old apartment for another year made me physically sick. i was antsy, i had to get out of there, and i did.

in theory, i know i can go wherever i want and, arguably, be whatever i want to be...but in reality i know i can't. at least not without a big fight, an extremely good reason, and a hole-proof argument that three of the most intelligent people i know would agree to...and i know that is perhaps the greatest impossibility ever.

at the end of my drive on tuesday, i told myself that i was going to move back to new york city no matter what, and that was it.

and i guess that's it.

maybe.

maybe i'll just go get another masters in something and avoid this reality bullshit at all costs. what's wrong with having an alphabet of degrees after your name?

maybe i can be a nomadic lawyer?

no? alright. i suck at making decisions. i suppose i'll let third parties make this one too.

you're waiting for your life to begin, wake up girl you've got it all wrong. you want a prize that you're not gonna win. your name will never change.

2006-11-02T00:27:00.000-05:00

so...i've been single for a while [three years, but who the fuck is keeping track], and my already miniscule faith is fleeting, so...while completely bored during my secured transactions class, i opted to write myself a little "wanted" ad, rather than answer the practice exam question he gave us to do during class. yea, no one said i was a good student...and no one said i wasn't more burnt out than i ever thought possible.

regardless, i scanned my little page, and "inverted" the colors, so ta-dow...you get not only my retarded want ad, but also my shitty handwriting. how lucky are you? and can i just say i hate the fact we have to answer essay questions on computer paper. would it kill them to give us lined paper? honestly!

i realize it's probably hard to read, so here it is in type form:

Wanted
Single, white, goofy, sarcastic, prefers-not-to-be-too-serious, nerdy, and fairly educated and cultured girl seeks a guy that has the following attributes:

Physical Attributes:
must be 6’2’’ or over.
brunette
athletic. no, not built. no, not a waif--just enjoy phsyical activity, cause i’m all over it and i’m all over play fighting too. you’ve been warned
Must:
not take himself too seriously. i enjoy taking it as much as i enjoy dishing it, and if you can‘t have a battle of the wits with your significant other..well? there’s no point in being with them.
love video games
enjoy sports. in particular, football.
be a total music whore like me.
enjoy partying, or at least drinking, and tolerate drinking.
hate shopping
be independent and non-clingy. go out with your guy friends, have a life of your own and friends of your own. do your own thang and be your own person.
have a healthy sexual appetite. i’ve got a huge libido, so you have to be able to do it any time and anywhere. and i do mean anywhere. the mood strikes, you gotta acquiesce.
be family oriented or understand that my family, for better or for worse, is a force that is not to be reckoned with, it’’s a force you have no shot in hell against.
love dogs, tolerate cats.
be mildly clean. being a slob after the age of 18 is just fucking pathetic.
not make stupid comments about little things. i enjoy buying shoes, and unless it’s your money, don’t ask me in a condescending tone “how many pairs of shoes do you need?,” and don’t ever bring up how much make-up i have and how much shit i use in the shower. you won’t ever win that argument.
be honest, blunt, to the point, and be able to handle the same from me.
be understanding about my retardedness. i’m not cold, i’m not disinterested, i’m not stand offish- i’m weary. i hardly open up to people i’ve known my entire life, so patience is appreciated, so is cornerning me and forcing me to open up. also, just use my actions to supplement the words you want to hear. i do all that random cute shit, and go out out of my way for a reason. k? k!
not be a religious fucking fanatic
not be a chauvenistic, gender-role loving ass clown who’s ego can only match his rampant douchebaggery.
that is pretty much it. if you’re interested, inquire.

oh! and you also have to be a tit guy and know how to handle these:

drunken gay guy was having a blast with the shirt i wore on saturday that coincidently exhibited a full frontal the minute i bent over. it equated to mucho tips, but not what i was going for. regardless, he snapped a picture...and i got the g-money approval. i've also been in an insanely shitty mood all week, for reasons i'm sure i'll get into when i have more time to sort things out....so, the idea of taking a shot of my tits not only would probably depress me further, but it would probably send me into a downward tizzy of even more self-loathing, which even i admit i've reached my capacity for this week.

with your hands on your hips, you pull your knees in tight. it's a pelvic thrust that really drives you insane. lets do the time warp again!

2006-10-31T00:44:00.000-05:00

monday night football....patriots playing.....also kicking some viking ass.

so, while i prepare to do that guy in the ass following a wager we had [anyone have any strap on suggestions? or should i go twenty four inch inch double sided dildo for him?], i'd like to wish you guys a happy halloween :)

it's the most evil of creatures..oh yes...it's sofie red riding hood in a luxurious faux fur scarf!

followed by my make-up from halloween, with a touch of the "equalize photo" feature offered by photoshop. if i could make myself glow somehow, i would...but until then, photoshop'll do.

and lastly, my typical halloween outfit...my hooded sweater which has kitten ears on the hood. it's the only thing i can get away with in law school without having people stare at me like more of a social pariah than they already do.

happy halloween y'all! hopefully you get many tricks, and even more treats..if you know what im sayin *wink wink nudge nudge*

show me where the door is 'cause i'm failing to see. watch me bleed out. i'm the worst at knowing when my curtain's been called.

2006-10-29T19:45:00.000-05:00

first...how obnoxious is the new template? oh yes...courtesy of one too many bong hits, insomnia induced delirium, and vacuuming intermittently throughout the day due to my dog having a case of the fleas.

second, for some reason my site gets submitted to various review sites and i'm thinking i know who the culprit is [*cough* e *cough*], and, per usual. i didn't get a good review. my blog got frogged, and apparently i try too hard, i write for an audience, i fail at being a bitch, and the fact i use the word "bitch" in my self description automatically makes me completely unworthy of readers. there are characteristics the word "bitch" evokes, unbeknownst to me, and none of them carry the general overtone of "i just don't give a fuck" and "facetious" which i seem to consider the essence of my bitch vibe. perhaps it is really that unbelievable that i'm the same in person as i appear to be on this bloggy blog, but for what it's worth...the powers that be think i fucking suck. oh..and they obviously can't discern the difference between "bitch" and "bitchy."

third, for two weekends now i've gotten people more drunk than they are used to. i'm thinking this is bad thing, no? i should be banned from giving people with little to no tolerance any alcohol. this weekends victim was the infamous gay neighbor, who per my suggestions went to the bar to meet gay bartender, and stupidly drank everything that gay bartender put in front of him. needless to say, i've found something light years more annoying and pathetic than the typical hungover female, and the snivveling sneezing male....and it's called the homosexual dude with his head in my toilet all night.

homeboy was so drunk that he couldn't even get into his own apartment, but he wasn't drunk enough to make it overtly known that he wasn't sleeping on the couch where the dog sleeps. mr homosexualist spent the night in my room, in my bed, hugging my toilet...and i woke up from sleeping on the couch, only to feel guilty as fuck and immediately proceed to making him some breakfast. either i'm a shitty mother fuckin' cook, or he was still hungover at ten this morning, because about an hour after he ate the pancakes, crepes, and eggs i made him....his head was back in my toilet for a few hours. and then? then he slept in my bed until about six this evening.

i've never heard someone bitch and moan and whine as much as him while he had his head in the toilet. honestly? it cracked me the fuck up.

anyway, i don't want to seem like i'm trying too hard too hard to be bitchy, and like i'm simply writing to appeal to an audience.....so, i'm gonna wonder when the end of the world is going to occur because, believe it or not the browns just beat the jets.

side by side dead and broken, our hearts aren't the same since mine went broken. it's a deep dark secret that we cut off the hands we used to hold.

2006-10-26T02:19:00.000-04:00

1. i never in my life thought i would be praying so adamantly for daylight savings to come...but waking up at six in the morning fucking sucks, and it sucks that much worth when it's pitch black out for roughly another two and a half hours. it's impossible for me to wake up when there's no sunshine or semblance of day...and it doesn't matter how much caffine i drink, or sleep i get. i'm a zombie until i see sunshine, or a less dark shade of gray.

2. who's bright idea was it to do construction on the sidewalk, which happens to be on the side of the road that isn't blocked off from any sort of non-construction-worker human contact, such that the only way to walk around the construction, it to literally walk in the middle of the east bound lane of traffic? i almost want to get hit, so i can just sue the fuck out of the ass clowns who are deciding where construction occurs. as if it wasn't bad enough that an entire side of the street is closed, and every cross section from e. 12th to e40th is blocked off, now, the sidewalk i use to make the four block trek, which used to be simply walking across the street before construction, has a rather good portion blocked off...and i get to play chicken with traffic to get to class on time. really. i'm going to go absolutely postal soon.

3. i took an online quiz about what my dating persona is. my results are:

Take the Test

"You take love as opportunities come, which can lead to a high-anxiety, but high-flying romantic life. You're a genuinely sweet person, not saccharine at all, so it's likely that the relationships you have had and will have will be happy ones. You've had a fair amount of love experience for your age, and there'll be much more to come. Part of why we know this is that, of all female types, you are the most prone to sudden, ferocious crushes. Your results indicate that you're especially capable of obsessing over a guy you just met. Obviously, passion like this makes for an intense existence. It can also make for soul-destroying letdowns. Your ideal match is someone who'll love you back with equal fire, and someone you've grown to love slowly. A self-involved or pessimistic man is especially bad. Though you're drawn to them, avoid artists at all costs."

uhm. fine..i concdede that i'm a fairly sweet person...but what love experience are they talking about?! two long term relationships does not love experience make. and i don't obsess...especially compared to the insanity of most women with regard to love prospects, and i've never even really had a crush on a guy. it's against my nature to sit and pine over some dude, unless i'm actually seeing him and have been for a while. o-well. see what it says about you...and hopefully it won't be fairly dead wrong.

4. i'm such a rebel. oh yes! my professor asked to talk to me after class...why, you may ask? is it because you're a total slacker, you ask? is it because you hardly pay attention in class, you ask? is it because you sit and have online conversations or do other work during class, you ask? nope. it's because i've missed five classes this semester. that's right! since classes started in mid august, i've not shown up to this particular class five times...and that makes me a horrible, horrible human being, and thus i was warned so as to eschew future conduct that would be none other than my absence. i love graudate school...it definately has all the appeal if kindergarten.

5. i know i promised boobies, but i'm going to break that promise (in a sense, i think one of the pics has tits showing decently well), and instead give you some photo's of my wee little trip. i'm a horrible horrible human being, as i explained above...so hey, a broken promise is just a part of how i roll.

barbs lounging on michigan ave...and me hiding myself from the camera. then, we have jax looking all sweet and cute...because she is....and me looking all pissy and shitty...because i am.

me, barbs, jax, teresa, and tina at the 33rd floor bar at the w hotel. the entire bar was a sausage fest, but don't get too excited...they were all from los angeles, and none of them were attractive. how that happens? no idea. you'd think in a room full of guys there would at least be one attractive guy..but alas, nay nay. and then next to that we have barbs, me, and jax at the bar called "funk"...where i worked my awesome shmoozing abilities to get a lot of free alcohol....

what could possibly be the most hideous sunglasses known to man, as modeled by..uhm..me...and teresa looking all super fly in what could be hideous sunglasses, but actually look good on her. following that we have teresa and i at the "funk" bar. and for anyone asking, yes i always do have gum in my mouth. lastly...me looking all flubby and rocking out. i spent the night sitting on the bar, seeing as i don't dance. that's how i roll.

so much has come from these battles lost and won, this life is shining more forever in the sun. staying high and dry is more trouble than it's worth.

2006-10-25T01:39:00.000-04:00

first...a heartfelt fuck you to blogger for not only blocking me out of my account until about two seconds ago...but also for not loading at all on any of my computers except for this afternoon when it finally let me check, and then quickly decided to fuck me up the ass without so much as a spit shine immediately after my comment finally posted.

second...let us experience a day at the gyno with elle, shall we?

nothing about the gyno is fun. nothing. and even the question of "do you take birth control?" kind of carries a stigma with it that really has no place being in a doctor's office, let alone a doctor's office that pretty much specializes in the horrible effects of sex [aka child birth], but whenever the question of "do you take birth control?" is asked at the gyno's it carries this sort of supposition that if you say "yes" and you are unmarried you are out there fucking everything you can...or maybe that's just my gyno's office, and just the way the nurse thinks...either way, when i answered "yes" she then followed up with "and are you sexually active?" to which i said "i have been, but i haven't been in a while." "so what? like a month?" "no, more like almost a year." "oh." and then just looked at me with total and complete disbelief the entire rest of thet ime we talked. hoo-hum.

i got into the room, i got butt ass naked...but i left my socks on 'cause it's freezing outside and thus freezing inside on account of it being rather unseasonably cold...put on the hideous gown, which i strangely look rather cute in [sad eh? i look good in fucking hospital gowns, but not actual clothing...], sat down, and commenced reading this months "car and driver." the doctor walks in, introduces himself, and then looks at me rather strangely and says "are you reading a car magazine?" "yes." "really? your boyfriend into cars?" "no, no boyfriend, i just really like cars." "well isn't that interesting!" snarf.

there is something insanely strange about getting your tits felt up for lumps, while you and the doctor from south africa engage in conversation about shark attacks.

after begrudingly placing my legs in the stirups, he muttered a "good god!" with regard to the bell i have on my taco...so to speak. "did that hurt?" "not really." "does it help? you know, with sexual stimulation?" "i guess so yea." "you guess?" "well, i really haven't had a prime opportunity to use it." and then he just kind of gave me this look of disbelief.

while doing my exam, and the fun fun pap smear, he actually said "you know? most girls come in and say they aren't very active sexually, and most of the time things say otherwise and i don't believe them, but i have to say that i completely believe you after doing your exam. " i guess i'm tight as a two year old. yay.

before i got to un-hostpital robe myself and put my clothes on, he told me to say hi to my mother. *shudder*

uch. i hope to god i don't have to go back in two weeks like i usually do. i may actually die of embarassment over the lack of sex i actually do have.

talk to me. can you listen to me now? it's as if you seem to make a small effort but you're bending my mind and you try to suffocate and smother me.

2006-10-22T18:28:00.001-04:00

i'm back.

for better or for worse. i would presuppose better because this means i'll actually get some sleep..and by some i mean more than three hours, which seems to be the magic number for how much sleep i was allotted during my vacation.

anyway, i suppose a "vacation in review is in order," and seeing as lists make me wet....enjoy a top ten, because as much as i love you..i love the tingle in my nether regions more. [i know, i just keep selling y'all out for my own selfishness...but i do it with the utmost respect and love, i swear.]

10. my hotel was awesome. really, it was worth the little to nothing i actually paid for it...and i had a rather large tv, a king size bed, a huge bathroom, and a little lounging couch that was spectacularly cute. that's how i would describe the place...spectacularly cute; however, i still cannot get over the fact that the entire bathroom was mirrored, which makes for an interesting going-to-the-bathroom process. even more strange? the closet was actually in the bathroom. what the shit? perhaps it's not that weird, but i just can't get over how random and strange that is.

9. nothing is more amusing than different cultures, even if the culture differences are as subtle as those between california and the midwest/east coast. people in cali aren't the most social of creatures when it comes to strangers, but for some reason people west of the mississippi are social little fuckers who will talk to anyone and anything within the vicinity, so long as they seem cool. cali found it strange that a guy would talk to her and preface it with "i have a girlfriend, she's right there, " or say "i have a wife, but you are gorgeous," but...that's how we roll.

8. along with the cultural differences, the temperature differences are hilarious. los angeles seemed to have trasnplanted themselves for the ucla v notre dame game [which they should have won, but we won't go there], and the girls i was hanging out with are also from the la area....so while i'm walking around in nothing more than a rain coat, a light sweater, and a tank top...everyone around me seemed to be ready for a blizzard with down coats, scarves, gloves...i even saw ear muffs. it was in the forties most of the weekend....so imagine explaining to them that forties is what the famed and insanely loved "indian summer" is, and how it's awesome weather for this time of year.

7. i realized that i will never get hit on when i go out...but i'm strangely fine with that because i shmooze something mighty fierce, and i'd say that's better than having some guy interested in taking me home, fucking me that night, and never talking to me again...let alone having him not know my name or having to endure the sheer and utter joy [/sarcasm] that is the walk of shame.

6. i also realized that underwear is just not for me. i wore it out to the club, and i spent half of the night adjusting it. i suppose it was inevitable that i would reach the point if a complete and total inability to wear undies outside of while at the gym since i gave up wearing it [for purely financial reasons...that shit is expensive!] almost three years ago, but i never thought returning to my roots of seperating my ass form my pants with a tiny layer of lace would be such a fucking annoying experience.

5. and the last realization, i promise, is it finally dawned on me how much new york city is a part of who i am. i usually just dismiss my love of nyc to nothing more than the fact i've spent a lot of my life there, my childhood friends live there, and the atmosphere of nyc is prevalent in my attitude, my mannerisms, and the way i talk...but while walking the streets and looking around, i actually felt a bit depressed because it made me miss nyc--not my friends, not my favorite places, not revel in the memories, but i missed the actual location. along with that, it's pretty much codified in my mind that if i do, in fact, move to a large city within the united states i would be completely fooling myself and cheating myself if that large city is anywhere other than nyc

4. i hate clubbing. i like to dance, just not in public and not in a serious manner..so clubbing for me is basically sitting there watching other people, and getting yelled at to shake my ass. accordingly, i've circumvented the yelling and subsequent guilt for being a complete white girl by not even bothering to go onto the dance floor. thus, on friday night while everyone shook their asses, i sat at the vip bar--which having ovaries got me into..so it was totally vip, obviously [hah!]--and started talking to the bartender. i paid for one drink the entire night, and everyone in our lil' ol' group didn't pay for a single drink the rest of the night, either. told you shmooze something totally fierce!

3. we got home from the bar around five in the morning on saturday, so i crawled into my awesome king size bed....which was a total waste because i never move from the edge of the right side of the bed, and i don't think i ever will...around six in the morning, and around seven-thirty in the morning i hear people talking insanely loudly right outside of my room. alright, my room was in front of the elevator and i totally concede the point that it would be ridiculous for me to mandate complete and utter silence for anyone in the hallway waiting for the elevator, but...i think it's common courtesy at seven-thirty in the morning to mandate "inside" voices. i could hear everything this bitch was saying...so, i throw on my winter sweater, close it so my tits aren't hanging out, open the door, and ask her if she would mind keeping it down. the two older women apologized, but this little blonde bitch around my age actually had the audacity to open her fucking mouth and say "well, maybe you should go downstairs and ask for a room not in front of the elevator," to which responded "it's called common courtesy, i don't care if you talk...just be a little more quiet because i can hear everything you're saying." "well, you're right in front of the elevator. what did you expect? total silence? besides, it's almost eight in the morning, you should be up anyway. we're up." "just keep it down, or i'll make sure to call the front desk and complain about you specifically."...and i shut the door. too lat ethough. once i'm awake, i'm awake...and i was awake. that cunt.

2. while laying in bed praying i wasn't hear some dumbfuck airhead blonde talk about how slow the elevator is---keep in mind we were on the thirty third floor and there was one functional elevator as a result of rennovation...so obviously she's a swift little cunt because it takes a rocket scientist to put a and b together to get the result of a slow elevator--she also mentioned she and her boyfriend were running the marathon. well, guess who was insanely loud in the hallway last night with the rather cool guy she met in the hotel bar at four in the morning? and guess who walked out into the hall to say "it's four in the morning and i'm running the marathon tomorrow, do you have to be so loud in the hallway?" and guess who smiled and replied "well, we're waiting for the elevator. you should maybe go downstairs and ask them to switch your room so you aren't near an elevator. besides, it's only four in the mrning, you should be up anyways. we're up." game. set. and i would have to say, match.

and! the number one vacation experience....

1. i arrived. i trekked to the baggage claim. i awaited almost, sorta, kinda, not really patiently. i got my luggage. i trekked to the taxi pick up area. i got in my taxi, after he helped me with my bags. he was a middle aged african american man...so, basically we had nothing in common at all and i hate humanity when i travel...so we made small talk and he turned up the radio. that's right folks...he and i had a bomb ass duet singing none other than "suddenly i see" by kt tunstall...and that? that was so fucking **awesome** it gets the rainbow-tossing double asterisk.

and with that...i'm going to pray my return flight isn't a turbulent fuckfest...and i actually get some sleep tonight.

the sky is bleeding above me and i am blistered. i walk these lines of blashpemy everyday, and still like a bad star i'm falling faster

2006-10-19T00:45:00.000-04:00

i have a shitload of shtuff to finish before i leave for my "vacation," so, seeing as it's thursday and no one gives a shit about what i type...i'm going to totally ass out on this one, totally sell you out for cleaning, packing, homework completion, and situating of the pets, and go the most balls out easy escape route possible. yes, that's right....you are entering the....

this one is from an e-mail:

it was a huge long ass e-mail entitled "get to know your friends" which to me, of course seems redundant, seeing as you should already know your friends aside from the banal and stupid shit that a meme would ask. so, as some kind of favor to you, my beloved reader(s), i cropped the one-hundred and twenty-two questions on down to one:

what song best describes your mood at the moment? why?
the song is "everyday is exactly the same" by nine inch nails, and as for why? well, i'd say that's pretty fucking self explanatory, no?

i believe i can see the future
'cause i repeat the same routine
i think i used to have a purpose
but then again
that might have been a dream
i think i used to have a voice
now i never make a sound
i just do what i've been told
i really don't want them to come around
ican feel their eyes are watching
in case i lose myself again
sometimes i think i'm happy here
sometimes, yet i still pretend
i can't remember how this got started
but i can tell you exactly how it will end
i'm writing on a little piece of paper
i'm hoping someday you might find
well i'll hide it behind something
they won't look behind
i'm still inside here
alittle bit comes bleeding through
i wish this could have been any other way
but i just don't know, i don't know what else I can do

every day is exactly the same
every day is exactly the same
there is no love here and there is no pain
every day is exactly the same

and of course, what pointless post would be complete without stupid tests?

You are Slinky Heels!

You're an uptown, well put together woman
But you're not too uptight to enjoy a hot club
You're always the best dressed chick in the room

And you'll only settle for the best in men

What Kind of Shoe Are You?

You Are 36% Scary

You scare men off ocassionaly, but only very weak men.You're a normal woman. You're not perfect, but you're pretty darn close.

Do You Scare Off Men?

You Go For Brains!

You want a guy with a big... brain.And of course it would be nice if he were a total hottie, but you're not counting on it.What's on the inside is what counts for you. (Besides, you can always change the outside later!)

Do You Go For Brains or Body?

Your Reputation Is: Shy Girl

You've done pretty well in keeping your reputation protected..Problem is, no one really knows who you are!

What's Your Reputation?

anyway, next week we'll probably get back to the regularly scheduled titty program, but this week you get my ugly mug. i don't remember if i posted this one before ir not..but whatever....deal with it bitches!

have a good weekend, y'all! i'm stoked i got an exit row seat on my flight. woooot!

he said someday things'll be better, i say i'm giving up 'cause i know everything sucks and this isn't going to be the last time you hear me complain.

2006-10-17T00:54:00.000-04:00

ladies and gentleman! you are in for a treat...because i have a story for you!

alright, now that you're kind of hooked into reading the rest of this shit, even though this isn't going to be a fantastical story about anything in particular other than the standard story line of this blog which pretty much is "i'm a dumbass," let me start out by saying.....i'm a dumbass.

way back in may when yet another semi-truck decided to attempt to take my life from me [i swear the bitches have it out for me...swear], i walked away fairly okay aside from having a few cracked and bruised ribs...and by a few i mean i had three ribs, total, that were peachy fucking keen. it sucked, i couldn't do shit until things were adequately healed...which was about two and a half months...and walking my dog across the street pretty much had me leaning over trying my to catch my breath. basically, i was the equivalent of an eighty year old smoker with emphysema after more than ten paces. it was fun, i swear.

immediately after getting the okay to engage in fairly light physical activity from my doctor, i pretty much hauled ass to the nearest muy thai studio, signed up, and started going four times a week. in my own defense, i stayed away from sparring and stuck to bag work until my doctor said i'm free and clear. i got the "free and clear" in early september and giddily jumped into the proverbial ring with, my now friend, mick who is my sparring partner. now mick is about six-foot-three-inches and about two-hundred-twenty pounds of rock hardness. seriously, he's like a fucking wall. coincidently, he's now a bouncer at the bar i used to work for...how funny is that?

so anyway, mick and i get the joy of beating each other up four times a week in a teeny tiny little studio, while jeremy--the head honcho--gives us pointers on how to be mo' bettah, and despite his advantage of size over me, i do pretty well against him...and after about a week of me being myself [ie..shit talking, being a goofball, etc] he got the idea that he doesn't really have to go easy on me.

just to clarify, i don't really think he goes all out on my ass, but i can say that when he punches and kicks me it's with his full force and not some half ass "she's a girl!" bullshit. he doesn't throw me on the ground like i've seen him do to a few of the guys in the program, but he does still throw me down onto the ground.

so, we'll fast forward to last wednesday around three in the afternoon. mick and i are happily beating the shit out of each other, and at the end of practice, while i'm taking off my wrist wraps and talking to one of the other guys who trains when we do, mick decides it would be an awesome idea to come up behind me, pick me up, and flip me over onto the matt.

oops.

stupid me was shocked, and rather than staying still, i moved around like a goddamn fish out of water such that when i landed on the matt, i didn't land on my back like you're supposed to...nope, i landed on my side. rephrase..i landed on my arm, and then my side kind of crashed really unlithely into my arm. other than having the wind knocked out of me, i felt okay....but when i went ot the gym to do my cardio the next day, i noticed i was having trouble breathing. of course, i just dismissed that as my allergies being a fucker given the variation in temperature that's been going on lately. but, come saturday, i could barely walk up two flights of stairs without feeling like my lungs were completely null and void.

so, completely negating the fact that about five months ago i had the same feeling as a result of being man handled by a semi truck and having some fucked up ribs, i called up my doctor and told him i needed new allergy pills. at the appointment on monday he checks everything, says i'm not having difficulty breathing because of sinuses or anything of the sort...then does that creepy thing where they push on your ribs and shit, and i pretty much flew off the table the minute his hands brushed up against my ribs.

naturally, he looks at me like i'm fucking nuts, goes over to the chart, reads that i was here five months ago with some fucked up ribs, looks up at me, and with the utmost sincerity and seriousness says: "what in the world do you do to yourself that keeps bringing you here with bruised and cracked ribs?"

oh yes! i rock! i have three bruised ribs...how awesome is that? and i don't even have a cool, glory-wrought story to go with it, either. nope...all i have is mick feeling guilty and constantly calling me and asking if i need anything or what not, and a doctor who thinks i'm some kind of masochistic dolt...which i'm not so sure he's wrong about.

so how am i a dumbass you ask? simple. after my doctors appointment i went to the gym to run six miles...and tomorrow, i plan on going to practice.

you can't teach an old dog new tricks..and my trick has always been to suck it up and act like nothing is wrong.

yay!

i couldn't eat for days, i cried so much my face hasn't been the same. now you're back here with your lies. i hope you realize i don't forgive easily

2006-10-15T20:39:00.000-04:00

alright, before i get into things...can i just extend a hearty "what the fuck?" to this new birth control thing entitled the "nuva ring"? i mean seriously! what the shit is that? as if the patch wasn't stupid enough, now you're going to insert a plastic ring into your cooch so that the perilous and mind consuming task of remembering to take a pill that is dwarfed by a tic-tac is no more. who wants to shove something into their vagina and leave it there for a month? and, outside of that, if you can't remember to take a fucking pill once a day then odds are you shouldn't be anywhere near something that could let you procreate and spread your fucktarded seed into the gene pool.

alright! glad i got that off my giguntor chest.

anyway...for those playing "e's life, the home game"...i suppose i should divulge a bit about my little ol' date huh?

it went...umm okay?

he's from philly, moved here a few months ago for his residency, and has no clue about anything here other than he hates it [amen to that]. thus, per my decree, we met at one of my most favoritest bars here in the shithole of america...and we talked about everything from my hood piercing to politics. he's laid back and mellow much like i am [okay..fine..minus the mellow because i'm one hyper lil' spazz] and he had the most gorgeous eyes. the best way to encapsulate his peepers is to say he has doe eyes, and i realize that's a very homsexual and shitty analogy...but they were big, brown, warm, and insanely innocent. we met at nine, we departed at eleven...not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, albeit he was on call and missed his beloved "gray's anatomy" to meet me.

the final words? "that was fun, we should do it again sometime"..to which i said "anytime" and the final act was an awkward hug. my conclusion is i probably won't hear from him ever again. i'm sure you are all sitting there going "you're too hard on yourself!" or "you don't know that!" or, better yet "well, he's a retard if he doesn't see how awesome you are." tra la la la la...but i'm not going to argue any of that, even if i completely disagree.

nope. i think i won't hear from him again for one simple reason: i don't know how to not be aloof.

i'm not completely distant or cold...but i'm not overflowing with joy and excitement either, and i can see how that comes off in a bad light vis a vis the guy sitting next to me trying to feel things out. it's hard enough to meet someone you don't know and find a common ground and feel things out, but when you add in the fact the person is well guarded and slightly ambivalent...well? i would imagine it's like pure hell.

i'm extremely laid back, but i'm also petrified of relationships...and i think the combination equates to an air of disinterest on my part. it probably doesn't help that i have no idea how to gauge if someone is interested in me or not either.

o-well. i have other things to worry about...like this upcoming departure from this piece of shit city i'm absolutely dreading.

oh..and in other news...i tested out the hair dye i'm using for halloween..and holy fuckin'a it's bright as shit...

seriously, i had to light it up in photoshop so that it didn't just look like big red streaks in a black abyss. i love eeeet! but thank the lord it washes out in ten shampoos!

i'm not faithless just paranoid of getting lost or that i might lose. ignorance is bliss cherish it. years have gone by, and i can't talk about it.

2006-10-12T11:15:00.000-04:00

1. my bastard law school unilaterally decided that it would start spring semester a week early this year for no other purpose than to give those students taking the bar exam an extra week to study. congrats to those individuals taking the bar exam, really, i'm so proud of you for being such impulsive, compulsive, and overall selfish little whiney bitches that you got your wish of having an entire extra week to study for the three day bar exam. yup, fuck the fact that the last semester of law school is a joke, and lets completely negate the fact that you have at minimum six months to study for that test as well as the fact you still have to study for your final exams, regardless of when they are, and lets completely overlook the fact that the bar passage rate for the school has remained ninety-five percent fairly steadily from year to year to those individuals who didn't have an extra week....and lets change the entire schedule to the detriment of anyone not taking the bar exam. i expect nothing less from the people who mandated a school policy requiring professors to allow students to reschedule exams should they have more than two in a twenty-four hour period. fuckers.

2. i really do think i have the only dog in the world who will eat an entire bowl of food, drink a bowl of water, and have no desire to shit or piss 4 hours later when it's time to go out, simply because she doesn't like the location. she stares at me like i'm fucking nuts for asking her to go potty in the park across the street. o-well. it's her bladder and o-ring, not mine.

3. anyone who reads this blog knows i'm a rather aggressive driver, and that i'm pretty much the queen of road rage and the lead foot. thus, it probably doesn't shock you to find out that my license hath been suspended. what will shock you is the reason why. nope, not for excessive speeding tickets....nay nay to using the shoulder to pass dumbfucks.....negative ghostrider to it being a result of running one too many people off the road...yea, those things are not the reason. what's the reason? oh, i had an expired tag. yup! the fucking cop who was stuck behind me at a red light noticed my tag expired on the last day of june, so he pulled me over on the second day of july. the fucker pulled me over, talked to me, i explained to him that the car is a lease and becaues of that honda handles all of the dmv bullshit. he went to his car, he came back, he handed me a slip of paper and simply said "well, make sure you take care of that." how the fuck was i supposed to know it was a ticket, absent him saying so and handing me a piece of paper that didn't say anything that would lead me to believe it was a ticket? and how the fuck can he give me a ticket for something i have no control over? absent knowledge of it being a ticket, i assumed it was a warning, so imagine my shock to get a letter in the mail saying my license is suspended. congrats, mr. assfuck policeman. the streets are so much safer now that my expired tag is off the streets. i hope that fucker gets some mad explosive diarrhea.

4. i think i have a date today. insert the "j" accordingly. should be interesting...he's a medical resident. i have twenty bucks on him thinking i'm the antichrist and being absolutely appalled by me. i'm so excited!

5. the girl who sits next to me in white collar crime and who is also in my theories of justice class, has the most disgusting man hands i've ever seen. her hands are seriously larger than the keyboard of her shitty dell laptop, and her fingers are all bent and mangled. it's seriously disgusting, and it's seriously like a train wreck because i cannot help but stare at them. in addition to her having the most disgusting hands i've ever seen to date, she also thinks she's such hot shit, which is rather amusing because she's not disgustingly ugly, but she is far from the chick who has been dubbed "law school barbie" whom i admit is really cute.

anyway, it's thursday...and aside from the craptastic date, i also have my second accounting exam, so, pardon me for not having time to get all skankified for a picture....and really have no desire to get skankified for a picture seeing as my uterus seems to think it's a contortionist this week. so, instead of ~~something~~ ~~skanky~~ some tits, you get the most horrendous picture i have ever taken in my entire life, but that i feel the need to post because i told a certian someone [*cough* e *cough*] i wouldn't just toss it if he sent it to me and deleted it from his phone forever.

so, long story short. have a disgusting haggard picture of moi:

obviously it's old, seeing as my hair hasn't been dark brown for a while....and i suppose eventually i'll post a pic of me as my standard aubern hair colored self. anyway...

and sorry i've been a bit MIA from blog land this week. i've had three tests [gotta love accounting], two papers, and i get the joy of writing yet another thesis [about something i really would rather have a pelvic exam for an hour rather than write]...so, i've had a rather full plate this week. i've read most of y'all, just haven't really commented. sorry

OH!, and i'm thinking it's time for a template revamp, seeing as i'm tired of this one...anyone have any ideas?

throw away the shoelace that tripped you. realize that sometimes your not okay. maybe you should sleep, as clumsy as you've been. no one's laughing

2006-10-10T08:28:00.000-04:00

i must admit, i had a rather interesting weekend. [and a four day weekend at that...muahaha! eat it up bitches!]

it wasn't the activities that made it interesting...although, sitting around while having a beer and talking about vaginitis with ten guys i've never met before was rather....we'll go with interesting to keep this theme of verbal redundancy i've seemed to commence.

what was particularly interesting is the following:

friday: told i was a sarcastic little brat by a guy i met

saturday: told i was a complete smart ass by one of the aforementioned ten knights of the vaginitis table, told i was insanely sarcastic by a different vaginitis knight, overheard a guy i talked to at the bar say "that one has got a fucking mouth on her"

sunday: fill in more of the same types of verbage from above.

that part really isn't that interesting...i'm usually told i'm one sarcastic little bitch, that i have a mouth on me, and that i take very little seriously...that's fine. what's strange, is that everyone who mentioned it was enamored with that aspect of me.

say it with me people: what the fuck?!

talk about throwing a fucking wrench in my finely tuned machine of being a complete turn off in every sense of the word imaginable and every feasibly way, huh? when my looks fall short as being a deal breaker, i just award my star studded winning personality with the grand prize of my continued shitty luck with the opposite sex....and now that entire system has been shot to complete shit.

in completely unrelated news, i went off my diet hardcore style today...and i loved every fucking minute of that slice of chocolate cake. sure! i'll hate myself tomorrow morning, but right now my ovaries, my migraine, and my chi are all harnessed, aligned, and fuckin satiated.

and that's all i got. i've been a zombie all weekend thanks to this migraine and the most surefire partial relief of ambien and vodka, so i'll continue to spare you of anything going on in my wee little frail, feeble, female, mind.

oh! but before i depart and find sanctuary in a scolding hot shower and refuge in my glorious bed, i'd like to call your attention to the "read the entire post" link that may periodically appear at the bottom of my posts...as it does in the post below....yea, that's me being nice and not putting everything i blabber about on the main page. you click it, you get the whole verbose shabang. i've been using it for a while, but i actually got a few e-mails asking me what it was yesterday, so...there's the clarification.

consider it my gift to you....i care, and therefore i shield you away from the endless ranting, raving, blabbering, verbosity, and stupidity that flow forth from my tiny little hands.

no, really. my hands are tiny.

okay! i'm shutting up. promise!

you're winning me over, with everything you say. you rip my heart right out. if you love me at all please don't tell me at all. don't call.

2006-10-09T01:22:00.000-04:00

start out simple: i think i'm done tweaking my template for at least a week. promise. i think i finally solved the problem of the font being all shades of huge in internet explorer while being tiny in firefox. it drives me fucking batty that ie and firefox don't render the same view, but....there is a reason why one is better than the other...and we all know which one that.

if you didn't guess firefox, leave. just leave. right now...go ahead, push that little red box in the top right counter, you blasphemer. just kidding, tee hee!

second...i'm a hormonal fucking mess thanks to new birth control pills, and the full moon always happening during my cycle really doesn't help...neither does the fact that the winter blues are descending upon us....so?! to spare you all of my endless supply of self deprecation and caviling...i'm going to go total avoidance style and do a meme. holla!

things that excite me and delight me:

extreme sports: it's a shocker, i know...i'm not obsessed with snowboarding or anything, right? [sarcasm] i haven't gone sky diving six times, bungee jumped twice, gone base jumping or anything...nope.[/sarcasm] i have no qualms with the fact i'm a total adrenaline junkie, and i'll be fucking damned if i don't go to cedar point at least once before i move out of the midwest [with the sincere hope i never, ever, ever return...unless it's chicago...or a job that pays over two hundred thousand...starting.] their extreme, their exciting, and for however long the experience lasts, it's beyond fantastic to not just know you're alive, but to feel it with every ember of your being.

buying shit on discount: what? i'm female! there's something insanely satisfying in buying shoes that cost eight hundred dollars for less than two hundred bucks. there's something insanely exciting about finding a dolce and gabanna dress with the most minute of blemishes, and walking out of the store with a two thousand dollar dress for only one hundred and fifty bucks. i dig it, yo!

food: hah, and you wonder why i have weight issues...but good lord, there are few things in this world that can compare to a great meal, a fantastic dessert, or something as stupid as a peanut butter cup. it makes dieting damn near impossible, but it's one awesome temptation i love to give into...until i look in the mirror, that is. blast!

the future: the future is a mother fucker...and it's nerve racking as all hell...but, there's an element of excitement to it. uncertainty leaves a lot of room for things to happen, and even i, the queen of all things cynical and pessimistic, has some hopes for what will come in the future. the possibilities are exciting...or so i think.

i may get laid again: it ties into the future, but the possibility that i may get laid again is tantalizing...not that i don't do a great job on myself, but good lord it's been way too long and it's going to get to that point where i just go from total nymph to totally asexual...it's inevitable. i'm fully aware that getting laid isn't very difficult, but we've been over this: i don't do random sex. the idea of experiencing a mutual attraction again is not only arousing, it's damn near dreamy.

things that frighten me:

silence: i can't stand it. cannot. even when i sleep, i like a little bit of ambient noise. total silence kind of scares me...i really have no idea why, but i somehow think it has to do with where i grew up. and yes...the "country" makes me go insane.

loneliness: as previously stated i am the queen of pessimism and cynicism...so, naturally, the idea that i may end up alone in my life is rather frightening. i'm well aware that not everyone is destined for marriage or whatever, and i know i'm independent and self sufficient enough to take care of myself and to not need anyone...but? i want someone...eventually. not for the sake of having someone, but the right someone. rather frightening to think that it may just not be.

i may not be able to have kids: i think i've talked about this before, but it's a possibility. not one that's ever been brought up to me, told to me, or anything of the sort. it's one i've just kind of concluded on my own...afterall, it's not normal to have consistent inconclusive test results, and to subsequently have biopsies.

failure: i hate losing, and i hate failure...if you've ever played any kind of game with me, you know this full well. but i'm beyond scared of failure for the simple fact that it goes hand-in-hand with disappointment, and that is one thing i cannot really handle being...especially to people that i love.

losing my family: it's a horrifying thought--to not have your mom, or dad, or sibling around anymore. i'll leave it at that.

things that fascinate me

humanity: people are fucking insane and for the life of me i cannot understand what the fuck is going on, if there is anything going on, in peoples heads. 'nuff said.

pet haters: i'm not a cat fan...never was, probably never will be, but i have a cat and i adore her. would i ever go out with the specific intent of getting a cat? nope, but if someone has a cat i don't constantly talk about how i want to throw the thing out the window. how can you hate a dog or cat to the point of just not even wanting to deal with them, at all? how can you hate them to the point of wanting to harm them? how can you hate them to the point of pet-ownership being a total deal breaker? it's fucking amazing!

nature: nothing is more beautiful, awe inspiring, destructive, breath taking etc. it's often replicated, but it can never be duplicated...and no two things are alike. the sunset you see on a monday is vastly different than the one you see on a tuesday...it's amazing. it really is.

blondes: well, moreso the fascination people have with being on. ummm, why? i have nothing against blondes, or people who dye their hair blonde...i just don't get it, and it fascinates me that people put so much effort into up-keeping things so that no one...or at least no man...is the wiser. i mean..i dye my hair, but it's usually a color that doesn't completely contrast with my roots.

the music played on kissfm: i admit it's catchy, i admit not all of it is horrible...but do people just not hear anymore? or are they just slaves to the trendy and gluttons for an image? dear christ, how do these artists even get a record deal, let alone anywhere near a recording studio to record whatever shit it is they are now playing on the "trendy" radio station?

alright. i'm done blabbering....back to figuring out how to make this migraine stop long enough so i can fall asleep.

i'm living in a lie and i won't be on your side. i love you a lot, i need you a lot, but you need to remember to close the door when you're leaving me

2006-10-05T01:21:00.000-04:00

dear nipples,
we've had a good relationship thus far, and i know it's probably shocking that out of all the body parts i have issues with i'm bitching about you, a body part i really shouldn't have issues with...you're adequately sized, you're nice looking, you are pretty compliant to my needs...you even have sensation, which almost every doctor said would be damn near impossible...so, really, i adore you. but here's the thing: what the fuck is up with you going all attention-whore on my ass when we're in the gym? huh?! is there a reason you're all rock hard and trying to make your presence known in a room that is by no means cold? is there something that turns you on about lifting weights, or me getting my ass kicked in the ring? [okay, i can relate to that, cause i'm a hornball after practice] ...are you a part of some secret spell my mom put on me to help me attract male attention? what is it?! what can i do to make you stop going to full attention the minute i set foot in a gym? and may i just add, i'm way fucking impressed that you can make your presence beyond known through three sports bras...aside from being pissed that you do that, i'm so proud of you neeples!!

smoochies! and i'm trying to find someone to lick you, i swear.
-the titty master.

dear, uhm, well....readers?
seeing as i put effort into it i figured i should call your attention to the shit that is behind door number two in my sidebar. yes, it's shocking that the icon with horrendous nanny stockings [muppet babies nanny, c'mon now!] and a guitar is where my "top ten" music for the month resides...but, regardless, it's all hyperlinked. i uploaded them all so you can hear 'em. it's a pain in the ass, and if no one gives a fuck..then i'll just go back to a list..but if you, the people, rather like the fact you can hear the absolute crap i listen to...let me know and i'll do it again next month. don't ever say i don't love y'all...tee hee!

much wuv to my blogland homies!
-da buttah

dear jackass that can't be more than five inches from their cell phone at all times,
get the fuck off the exercise machine. i'm well aware of the need to be connected, but if you can't do a half hour of cardio without having your phone right there, then you have fucking issues. what's worse? if you can pick up the phone and have a viable and long-winded conversation while you're doing your cardio there's really no point for you to be on that machine to begin with. and while we're at it, if you're going to be in the cardio theater working out--which is this dark room with a giant screen tv that plays movies you watch while doing cardio--it's really fucking rude to sit there and have a conversation on your phone. it's a movie theater..same rules apply fuck-o.

i don't feel so bad for sweating on you, anymore.
-the chick still on the treadmill when you come in, and when you leave.

dear humanity,
just out of curiosity, what's with everyone thinking i'm a really busy person? i personally think i'm one lazy fuck who doesn't do much...so, i'm just curious as to where people get this idea.

shpanks!
-e.

dear weather,
would it kill you to not be such a schizophrenic cunt? i mean honestly...could you maybe make it sunny during the hours i'm not in class? or, better yet, why not make it sunny in the morning, rather than from five o'clock at night 'til when the sun sets at fucking six o'clock at night, huh? you're walking a thin line, my dear...and it's going from annoying to i will hunt you down and fuck your shit up if you continue to fuck with my mind and circadian rhythm the way you have been these past few weeks. i'm fine with gloomy shitty weather, i'm not fine with it going from sunshine kisses to fucking grim reaper scenic every other hour. oh! and what the fuck was up with it down pouring something fierce the entire time the sun was shining on saturday? sun showers are fantastic and i adore them, but it's not supposed to be torrential flood rains coming down on me while the sun bronzes my shoulders. it's just inherently wrong. it's a logical fallacy, if you will. get back to the fucking program of mild predictability and not being such a royal fucking cunt...or i may have to declare a jihad on your ass.

you've been warned.
-the vengeful little wench.

dear..well, this has nothing to do with anyone really but i'm a stickler for formatting,
this weekend was sofie's second herding gala. yes, i take my dog to herding extravaganzas. it's actually really fun...and it's not like i've got any sort of a social life to begin with, so i'll take any excuse to get out of my apartment. sofie has never had formal training in the ways of the herding, but that shit is seriously genetically programmed into them. no training means she only gets to fuck with the ducks because they have the ability to "fly away"--their wings are clipped, but even with clipped wings they can get decently airborne, they just can't sustain the height for a significant period of time. i have to admit, it's incredible watching a group of two or three border collies go to town on a herd of about one hundred sheep. the "shepherd" throws up two hand signals, and the dogs do the rest...it's amazing. so yea, she loves it, she has a blast, and that makes it worth the two hour drive.

isn't she absolutely adorable in action?!
-proud momma

alright. so i went to a wedding a few weeks ago...which we're really not going to talk about, and that reason rests mostly upon the shoulders of my date being numerous bottles of alcohol...so i don't remember much from that night, except e elbowing me in the head in his sleep...the fucker! anyway, i wasn't in the bridal party; however, the bride pretty much stipulated the dresses that all twenty-four girls in attendance had to wear....and, naturally, it was a low cut little black dress...and naturally, the rest of the girls maxed out at a b cup....

so yea. i got an e-mail with a few shots from the wedding and i have to say...it's pretty funny seeing me with my titteriffic glory next to these insanely flat and skinny girls. i'd show an example, but i need to ask the fellow pictures if it's okay...so, should i get an okay...or, better yet, should i feel the need, i'll post the actual pic. for now, you get my contribution to it:

oh, and that white thing mildly sticking out...that's just my underwire peeking out to say "hi"...yea, and dig a hole into the under side of my tit. the other one followed suit shortly afterwards, because in my world..nothing can have a minute of non-meddled glory. pity my boobs, 'cause they still have battle wounds three weeks later.

open your eyes, open your mind don't pretend to be blind trapped in yourself, break out instead beat the machine that works in your head.

2006-10-03T00:59:00.000-04:00

guess i should start out with a big ol' thank you to all y'all for dealing with my absolute fucking retardedness. drinking and anything, including blogging, just don't mix. i hope y'all have learned the lesson...and if you haven't, i'm sure i'll be violating the awesome covenant of "don't drink and blog" again...'cause i always do...even though i hardly ever drink lately...

hmmm. perhaps i should recommence that.

anyway, i was having a rather interesting conversation with my friend d last night. in fact, it lasted about five hours longer than it was supposed to and instead of coming home from dinner at eight i came home at two in the fucking morning, which i'm guessing isn't going to correlate to me having good results on the tax accounting test i had monday night. oops.

anyway, we were talking about politics, and somehow the topic of celebrities came up. i'm of the opinion that if you're in a position where people, for god knows what fucking purpose, listen to you and feel you have any clout in the matter...you should at least have the decency to watch what you say.

if you're green day, whatever kids are enamored with you are going to take everything you say--whether right or wrong--to heart. they'll have no idea why, or how, and they'll have no factual backing for their "opinion," but they'll go around hating the current presidential administration and government.

i'm not saying people should speak their opinions, and by no means am i saying that the first amendment right to speak freely should be revoked in all situations involving the government...i may be russian, but i really don't think big brother should be lurking and censoring everything. what i am saying is that there's a sort of responsibility that comes with being an entertainer, and that responsibility is inherent with being a position where people, for some fucked up reason, think you're important--you keep your mouth shut when it concerns shit that isn't black and white.

i'm happy they have thoughts, if not shocked that there is more than a hollow nothing in between their ears, but it seems as of late they are forgetting what they get paid for. they are paid to dance like little monkeys to amuse us...and you know what? they get paid way more than i think they should, and way more than someone who actually contributes something to the world...like the dude who's working tirelessly in cancer research etc. they aren't getting paid a shitload of money to have ideas...let alone to disseminate those ideas. in fact, if you're in a position where your career and earning potential are not affected by the state of affairs anywhere in the world...which would mean you're an actor or a musician...then you should keep your fucking thoughts to yourself.

if you're a musician, why not use the creativity your record company fooled you with when they signed you simply because you're marketable, and write your thoughts in a song.

when i go to a concert, i'm paying [way more than i probably should] to hear your music and be entertained, not to hear your thoughts on the current state of affairs within the world, and why you are completely appalled with the supreme court justice selection. when i'm watching the oscars...okay, that's a lie, i've never even watched the oscars, but lets pretend....right, so when i watch the oscars and it's red carpet time, i don't want to hear you spout off all the things you hate about the president...i want to hear what designer you're wearing, what you think of your competition, what the role entailed, and whatever other banality comes along with your job.

so yea..that's my take on it...his was borderline in accordance, borderline disagreement. what's your opinion?

forfeit all of my lives just to get one right. all those colors long since faded and all the smiles confiscated. i never armed my soul for this.

2006-10-01T05:54:00.000-04:00

alright...i'm pretty adamant about people not deleting comments, and it usually pisses me off like no other when i look at someone's blog, then go back later that day and whatever post was there is missing. accordingly, i'm not going to be a total hypocrite...i'm just going to "hide" the embarrassing smut, and give you this:

i almost like it better than the original song...and video wise, well...the gold teeth mouth guard thing the dude wears in the original video freaks the shit out of me..so, yea. this is preferred.

heh, god weird al cracks me the fuck up.

i'm drunk...and i've had a lot on my mind.

i usually have a lot on my mind. most of the time i avoid all keyboard-ish looking things, hide my phone, and sing/scream along to music when the shit-load on my mind becomes a bit too much, but...i'm drunk...so instead, i fucking post it here like the fucking idiot i am, and then wonder why people think i'm a royal bitch, an elitist whore, have a plethora of issues, hate men, am bitter and jaded, and am all around a shitty human being.

figures.

so what's on my fucking mind?

everything.

this proverbial funk has made a cozy little habitat in my mind...
i have no idea what i want to do with my life let alone where i want to move in a year and a half when everything is said and done and pretty much set in stone...
i'm tired of living in duplicity...
it's clear, now, that some people who called themselves friends are really nothing more than self-serving...
i'm fucking sick of being on the outside looking in, even when it's my own life under the microscope...
i don't understand why not one mother fucking guy can find me at least mildly interesting and attractive enough to bother trying to get to know me in a non-friend way...
respect is something very few people will ever give
my body is the single temple that makes me seethe with complete hate and the utmost disgust
i'm a source of disappointment and am doomed to be a failure in the eyes i would die to see approval in
the bulk of my dreams lie in the category of unfeasible, if not within the confines of impossibility.
hope is gone and faith is slowly dissipating.

there's a reason i'm constantly standing alone...and there's a reason why i feel dead inside...but that's just feeling, and even if how i feel is right, or justified, or plausible...it's wrong.

some people like to be the victim. they like to constantly put themselves in situations that are terrible for themselves simply so they can feed off of the sympathy, support, attention, and the feeling of having something more than nothing. hand these people a brush and they will paint themselves to be a loving and selfless individual who wants nothing more than to sacrifice themselves to make someone else happy. sure. that may be true, but i'd wager that about ninety-nine percent of the people who wax poetic about how loving and selfless they are, are the opposite. they simply place themselves in situations where they get to come out smelling like humanitarian roses. what better situation is there than one in which you are the poor, hapless victim of something that's knowingly destructive?

i like to play the part of the flaw. i somehow always rationalize that i'm the defect in the situation...and how you feel can never be right when you're the source.

i don't want something more than nothing, i want nothing.

anything outside of the black and white is nothing more than a downward spiral into shades of gray that say nothing. they simply point the finger at me, regardless of the question, situation, or line of thought.

that's the reason i keep people, at minimum, an arm's length away...that's why i avoid making decisions. feelings may always be wrong, but actualization and end results are permanent, to say the least.

my what a tangled web we weave when first we start to have all malevolent roads commence with you.

over there stands my angry angel and he's shaking his head in disgrace with me. he's frowning like hell and i don't feel guilty. i'll release myself.

2006-09-28T19:33:00.000-04:00

i realized earlier this week that i've been single for nearly three years, the last time i got laid was in april [and it fucking sucked something aweful], and the closest i get to physical rapture is in muy thai, and that's only because i'm a serious massochist and fucking love it when i walk away from training in a shit-ton of pain and a limp. i've successfully wasted and continue to waste my years of sexual prowess..or should i say the years where sexual prowess is okay. FUCK! i'm a waste of a vagina and double d tits!

but, of course...jdate to the rescue.

in the ten minutes i was logged into the website today some douchewad opts to instant message me and of course i opt to share the joy [and why muy thai and the affection of my dog and cat are more than enough such that i can continue avoiding dating like the fucking plague.] enjoy! and for you idiots, i'm fulablahnikluv.**

IMJam62481: So what do you look for in a guy?
fulablahnikluv: wow, that's to the point
IMJam62481: lol i dont like to waste time
fulablahnikluv: i have no idea. when i meet a decent one i'll tell you
IMJam62481: LOL...
IMJam62481: so tell me, r u more naughty or nice?
fulablahnikluv: depends on how you define them
IMJam62481: Well on a scale of 1-10, how sexual and open minded r u?
fulablahnikluv: on a scale of 1-10..how well does this "balls out" approach really work?
IMJam62481: Well its the first i have tried it... u tell me
fulablahnikluv: i'm assuming most girls wouldn't find it as amusing as me, and just block you
IMJam62481: well in that case lets get together for some fun
fulablahnikluv: i'm sorry, did this turn into JFuck when i wasn't looking? or did you mistake me for some kind of slut who you had a shot with, to begin with?

and then? the douchebag fucking blocks me. yup. he. blocks. me. how can you talk such a "big game"...albeit e-game...and then run away to mommy when you being an asshole oh-so-shockingly goes wrong? fucking pussy.

oh, and continuing with the jew theme of this post...october second is yom kippur. my tax professor is having our first exam that day. inconsiderate fucking asshole. i tried to talk to him about it last wednesday when he announced the date and he seriously looked at me like i just took twenty hits from the bong and was speaking aramaic in iambic pentameter. my guess is i'm going to have to suck it up, go there all malnourished and fast-ridden, and take the goddamn exam...'cause i'm guessing trying to talk to his bigoted catholic self won't really make a huge difference. it's the proverbial "taking one for the team," except, there is no team and i just get triple fucked: i don't get to eat all day, i have to take a fucking exam, and my atonement time is being compromised.

anyway...have some skanky goth boots.

i borrowed them from a friend who is about two inches taller than me, so other than the fact i can't bend my knee enough to get up off the ground and have to use what little upper body strength i have to get up, they're actually kind of comfortable!

** so i just realized that the im conversation wasn't showing unless you actually clicked to view the entire post...sorry about that! somehow it fell into the wrong span class...must be the evils of copy and pasting into blogger with the automatic post template script i use to allow for "post summaries" rather than having all my blabbering all out there. sorry!!

i am just a worthless liar, i am just an imbecile, i will only compicate you, trust in me and fall as well. why can't we not be sober?

2006-09-26T00:38:00.000-04:00

so i really only have one thing to say:

I SAW TOOL!
*happy naked dances like a mother fucker all up and down blog land*

and it was **awesome**, so fucking awesome it deserves two of those gay little shift-eight start thingies...because two is better than one, and my ears are ringing so fucking loud i can't hear a fucking thing.

that is also **awesome!!**

i've been meaning to see Tool since around, ohhhh....lets say the mid 1990's when i first heard "prison sex," but i kept on missing them, so i was beyond stoked to see them, and i was beyond orgasming the entire two hours they played.

i've seen a perfect circle twice, but never tool. so, this was huge for me!

the opening band pretty much sucked. the name of the band is isis, i think, and it was just a bit too much going on at once. it was like pink floyd and pantera mated, and isis was the product..and to me it just didn't work. you can't go from all these intricate melodies and harmonies to gutteral screaming into the microphone and insanely heavy guitars over and over again each time you shift from a chorus to a verse. it's either one or the other, or pull the uber metal cliche and start out all whimsical and awesome and then float on into the gutteral bullshit. the ping pong match betwene gutteral and harmony is just haggard, in my opinion...which really doesn't count for much to begin with.

but tool! ohh sweet glorious tool! how do i love thee! let me count the ways:

1. they started with my absolute favorite tool song, "stinkfist." yes, i know that is probably the most cliche song you could ever have be a tool favorite...but, you can fucking blow me. that's the song i play whenever i'm in my dark place, and it takes me to a less dark place. regardless, a band playing your favorite song by them at a show is awesome, but playing it first is like some devine sign that this show is for you...or at least that's what i'm going to tell myself, so back off bitches!

2. maynard quickly took off his shirt shortly after appearing on stage. scrump-dee-lee-ump-tious! for that i will totally forgo the horridness of the cowboy hat and the giguntor belt buckle..for seeing chiseled abs in awesome mood lighting while that voice is filling the room is just pure sex.

3. the show was not about anything other than the music. half the time maynard had his back to the audience, most of the time the stage was lit by a dark-ish color with lots of vivid lasers going around the room so that you weren't really looking at the stage, but at the lasers and absorbing the entire experience. i like that. i like the no frills shows. don't get me wrong, they had a pretty intricate light show, but even still it wasn't overbearing or insane. it was there to enhance the music.

4. they played what they wanted. i hate it when bands just play their "hits" so-to-speak. i never in a million years thought they would play the entierty of "10,000 days" but they did. it's an amazing song, but it's not really what i would call concert material, but they played it anyway. they played all of "rosetta stone" as well. also didn't think they would play that either. i mean they played their more known songs like "aeinima," "schism," and "parabola," but as far as the new cd goes they totally played whatever the fuck they wanted, and that rocks my socks.

5. they sounded perfect. i swear, if i wasn't staring at a stage and watching them perform, i would have sworn it was just the cd playing. they jammed, and rocked out, but everything sounded flawless. his vocals were dead-on. *sigh* it was so dreamy!

6. they never left the stage. you know how most bands leave the stage before the encore? nope! not them! they put their instruments down, and sat down on the stage and were just kind of looking out at us. everyone had a lighter lit, so they all pulled out their lights and were waving them. say it with me: awww!

7. at the very end, they actually applauded us. the four of them also engaged in a giant group hug before they left the stage. say it with me again: awww!

anyway, i actually snuck my digital camera into the show..but of course i was seated by where the policemen were chilling. fucking figures! i got some decent shots though. if you want to see the larger image click it! [click it real good!] most of them are of maynard..but he is the main guy, and he was the only guy that wasn't always lurking in the side shadows...which the other band members seemed to do. here are a few of the better ones:

and for those playing at home, no i didn't end up sitting alone. my friend derrick who initially said he would forgo his front row ticket to sit with me actually did it. i'm shocked. why would anyone give up front row seats? lord only knows, but i was happy i wasn't sitting there rocking out all alone.

so one last touch and then you'll go and we'll pretend that it meant something so much more but she is beautiful and she don't mean a thing to you.

2006-09-25T01:04:00.000-04:00

i had an intermediate accounting test last tuesday, which, if you must know, i did rather well on considering i only looked at the material for a total of two hours before the exam. yes, procrastination is my forte, but at least i still nanage to get the "a."

anyway, i'm happily test taking...filling in my scantron for the multiple choice and doing all the problems required, but one of the questions just tripped me the fuck up: "which of the following is not true about materiality?"

every single option from letter "a" to letter "d" was correct, with "d" specifically saying "all of the above are correct." hmmmm, logical fallacy much? our class ends at 7:45pm, but the test went until 8:30 and when he gave us the last call for time, i just left that one blank.

that takes us to thursday. we got the test back [i got an "a" *happy naked dances* uh! what now bitches?!! tee hee], and as we're going through the multiple choice and this devil question takes the lovely stage for discussion.

now, i hardly show up at class...and when i do show up i'm in the way fucking back kind of hiding, mostly doing homework for my next class, always texting with people and never paying attention...so, i kind of felt like a jack ass raising my hand and trying to argue with the guy...but, what kind of lawyer wannabe would that make me? yea...exactly! so, i raise my hand and lay out my argument:

"if the question is asking which of the following is not true, and all of them are true, how can there be an answer? the only way there could be a correct answer would be if you asked for which of them is the most true, and then i can see why "d" is the correct answer."

the entire class was looking at me like i was the biggest fucking idiot to land in a classroom...especially a masters program classroom. the professor looked at me and blinked a few times, read the question to himself--lips moving and shit--and then looked back at me and said "you're right. there is no correct answer to that question. i guess i'll have to give everybody two extra points."

yup. i got everyone two extra points on their test...and even still, no one fucking bothers to talk to me. what the shit?!!

and yes, i'm aware that the categories i've created don't work..but baby steps people....and i also know that the font is fucking huge in internet explorer and tiny in firefox...which i have o idea why but..um sorry?