Wednesday, December 30, 2009

One final thought of 2009...

Merry (belated) Christmas and Hanukkah to you all! And more importantly, a very very Happy Birthday wish to Sharee, who is now officially OLD! Just kidding, love you Roca! (Sharee has the esteemed honor of not only knowing me in real life, but of being one of my sisters.)

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. About New Years, and my resolutions. Which I don't technically need to make, since I have that nifty little goal list on the side of my blog, which I am actually pretty pleased with my accomplishment on. I'm chugging right along on, except for my loosing weight goals (although I did get a wii Fit for christmas, which I love (for now) and should help with that)

But I do have to wonder - does anyone actually stick to their resolutions? I know I try. I really do - 2008 i kept my resolution for 7 months before sliding off the new years wagon. This year I have til 2011 to keep all of my goals - and I think I've made a significant dent in them. Except for the travel ones. Those ones might prove to be a little more difficult, although I do have some vague plans to go to Chicago for Easter and to London in the spring, but we'll see how it looks financially. If it's doable.

So there you have it. I'm sticking my middle finger up at the suckfest known as 2009, but diving head first into 2010, with the belief that not only will it be better but that I will be better.

Happy New Year to you all!

Monday, December 21, 2009

Allow me to climb up onto my soap box for just a moment

On Friday, the National Center for Disease Control released some startling statistics.

The rate of Autism Spectrum Disease has increased from 1 in 140 (as of 2007).

Autism now affects 1 in 70 boys, 1 in 110 children total.

Second, it is now classified as "Autism Spectrum DISEASE" as opposed to the old diagnostics "Autism Spectrum DISORDER."

ONE out of SEVENTY. And the rate is even higher in Minnesota, New Jersey, Florida and Michigan. (1 out of FORTY in NJ)

Think about that, for just a second.

ial
Hunter is lucky. Other children with ASD's are not so lucky.

Every Tuesday, I take Hunter and one of his classmates to bowling practice for the Special Olympics. There are 9 other children on the team, 7 of whom have an ASD. The function on a wide range of levels - from Curtis, who unless you've seen a meltdown, you would never know he was autistic. Down to Delilah, who uses a communication advice to speak. But when she laughs, oh does your heart melt. And those few times, when she does speak, with a bashful look on her face, you have to control your urge to hug her closely.

She doesn't like to be touched, you see.

Autism not only affects it's victims - it affects their families. Delilah's parents have dedicated their lives to making hers reach its full potential. Hunter's father has given everything he has to put his son in the best possible environment.

Other children are not so lucky.
I had a child come through my work last week with his father. The child was visibly autistic. His father slapped him on the head and called him a "fucking retard."
I've never felt so heartsick in my entire life.
Hunter's mother chooses not to be in his life. His father stepped up and is his only parent. He lives with his parents to get support - Hunter is hard to care for on your own all the time.

Curt's mother is a single mother. She is trying her hardest to do what's best for him, but it's hard to keep your temper with him sometimes, especially when he is having a meltdown.

The rate of autism has more than tripled since 2003. Pretty soon, the statistic will increase again. What will it be next? 1 out of 20? When will people sit up and realize that this is truly an epidemic that is kidnapping our children from us?

I'm stepping down from my soap box now.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Sunday Smiles

1) A roof over my head
2) 500 Days of Summer coming out on DVD - TUESDAY
3) A favorite book from your childhood
4) A customer going out of her way to tell her boss about you
5) Laughing until your sides hurt.


Thursday, December 17, 2009

Fabulous 50

Rather than right a blog about how when it rains in my life, it freakin tsnumais followed by a tornado,* I figured i'd take a moment to celebrate my 50th entry into this dear blog with one of my favorite things: a list. and rather then dwell on the mess my life is currently resembling, I'd focus on the positive.

So, dear bloggers, we're going to play a game. I give you one of my favorite quotes, and you guess who said it. Person with the most...gets a virtual high 5.

1) "For Attractive lips, speak words of kindness, For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people, For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry, For Beautiful hair, let a child run their fingers through it once a day, For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone. People, more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed. Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms. As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself and the other for helping others."

2) I love people who make me laugh. I honestly think it's the thing I like most, to laugh. It cures a multitude of ills. It's probably the most important thing in a person.

3) My own life has been much more than a fairy tale. I've had my share of difficult moments, but whatever difficulties I've gone through, I've always gotten the prize at the end.

4) The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.

5) Your heart just breaks, that's all. But you can't judge, or point fingers. You just have to be lucky enough to find someone who appreciates you.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

For the sake of hedonism

Anyone who has been around me or my blog for a while knows that I am something of a bibliophile. I adore the written word, and in fact if I could marry The Outsiders or A Tree Grows in Brooklyn or any number of my other favorite books, I would be quite satisfied.

When I was about 8, my mother refused to buy me any more books.* She said she refused to support my obsession with reading. Even my friends knew, at that age, that if they saw me with a book in my hand that I wasn't going to be interested in playing until that book was finished. I've always been the type to read at least 2 books at a time - if not more. Currently, I am reading Wuthering Heights, Holly's Inbox, and The View From Saturday. A classic which requires lots of thought, a chick lit novel, and a children's book. I used to read a Goosebumps and a Babysitter's Club book at the same time, and sometimes a Sweet Valley book.

That being said, you'd think that I would loveeeeee literature classes, or even just plain English classes for that matter.

But I have a confession for you, dear readers. I HATE LITERATURE CLASSES. I've never understood why. I enjoy them to an extent - reading the books, discussing them, what I liked, what I didn't like, but then it would come time to right a paper, or take a test on it, and I would despise it.**

And I've finally realized why: I am completely hedonistic in my love of reading. I read for the pleasure of reading. Not to learn something new, not to expand my mind, not to dissect a book apart until it makes sense. I enjoy reading simply for the love of doing so.

I don't want to analyze books for their symbols, or their themes.*** I simply want to read the story for my enjoyment, and then share it with other people.

I want to read damn it, just for the fun of it. No strings attached.

Kind of like the way a nympho likes sex. Just for the fun of it.****

* She refused to buy me books, but that didn't stop everyone else from doing so. Or from taking me to the library 2-4 times a week, if not more.
**And for the record, I usually enjoy writing papers.
***This could also explain why I despise most poetry.
****If I'm comparing books to sex, maybe I do have a *slight* problem.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Sunday Smiles (15 Minutes late)

1) Leopard print rain boots
2) Rediscovering your favorite childhood books
3) Glee's season finale
4) haircuts
5) toasty rooms.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

The Princess and the Frog

I took Hunter to see The Princess and the Frog last night, he's been begging my all week to see it, so I caved and took him. (because the word "SUCKER" is written across my forehead.) I was expecting to find it decent at best, not worthy of comparison to the Disney of my childhood.

I've usually got pretty good instincts, but this time I was wrong.

Disney has always had a special place in my heart. My first memory is going to see The Little Mermaid with my aunt - my first movie. Afterward, we went upstairs on the escalators and went to a store that had an indoor playground, and then a trip to McDonald's. The whole day felt magical. But when you are 3 years old, most days feel that way.

While The Princess and the Frog won't usurp The Little Mermaid, it will definitely find a place in my top 5 Disney movies.

After the movie, Hunter suckered me into a trip to Border's to get the book that goes with the movie. Again, because the word SUCKER is in big bold letters across my forehead.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Neglected

I've been neglecting my blog.

And I apologize for that.

I just haven't had much to say lately - and the moments when I do think I have something to say, I open this page and no words come to mind.

I've got bloggers block - like writers block, which i'm also suffering from. I gave up on my novel in the first week. Next year, next year, next year.

But even worse, I've been neglecting the blogs I read. and for that, I am sorry. I miss catching up on all the people who i've come to know through this screen. I miss hearing about their days and feeling like i'm known.

If only blackberries had a blogger app.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Anticipate

I know i've been keeping everyone in suspense - but since I don't have internet explorer on my computer, I have no idea whether I have fixed the problem or not (on Firefox, my blog shows up fine, no problems at all)

But anyway.

I've always been a big believer that everything happens for a reason. That to change one thing in your past might alter your future. Live with no regrets since you can't change the past anyway.

But lately i've begun to wonder. If I could turn around and do my life over again...or even back up to a certain time and place and change what happened, would i? Every day, I start to think that a little more.
Like maybe I never would have moved back to NJ.
Or I would start graduate school right away.
I would never have tried to move back with out a solid plan (those who know me know spontenaity and myself do not mix)
I never would have wasted so many years waiting for someone who would never treat me the way i deserve to be treated.

It's hard to look at where you are in life, discontent with where you are, unhappy with where your life is and NOT think that maybe, you would change some, or all, of it.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Frustrating

So I've had no problems seeing my last blog entry on my computer, but right now as I'm babysitting my cousin, I logged onto my blog and saw that it was NOT displaying, at all. Actually, nothing other then my header and one picture from that entry were showing - does anyone else have that problem or is it a glitch on this computer only? (assuming you can see this one, that is.)

the best years...take 2.

I decided over a year ago that I wanted to write about my college years. Actually, somewhere in the abyss of my mind, I decided it before I even graduated. On the surface it seems like it should be easy enough. But will I ever be able to give those years the justice they deserve? And if I can, then comes the hard part - narrowing it down to the events that matter most, because in 4 years at my beloved Alma Mater, I had enough (mis)adventures to fill a library.

So what do I write about? Do I write about the 20 or so of us who ran around campus together as Freshman, like we were invincible? The newness of everything still fresh in our minds, just starting out on our adventure. The Codorus Girls and the Evergreen boys - we thought it would go on forever. I could easily capture the newness of it all, the struggle to adjust to life with out parents and siblings, aunts and uncles. How from day 1, we started to feel like a family and high school started to become a distant thing of the past, so easily forgotten .


I could also right about our tumultuous Sophomore year, once the newness had worn off but the end was still no where in sight. The "hump" year. Not Freshman, we knew the routines and the dailiness, but we weren't quite upperclassmen thinking about what would come after. For me, it was the year of J and A, two of my best friends. Two girls who I have the dream friendship with. When Julie and I are together, we speak a language that only Ashley can sometimes understand. It's funny how much of that year they consume, especially when considering that they would have such little impact on my last two years of school, but have, since graduation, come back to once again be 2 of the people I trust most in this world. Two people with whom time never changes our friendship - months can pass with out talking and then a phone call changes everything, and nothing has changed between us. Two people who I can't imagine my life with out.


Or maybe I should start with Junior Year - the year of the Alpha Lambdas. The end was slowly starting to creep into our vision, but it was still so far away that it hardly seemed tangible. The year of Phi Sig - when the 5 of us became who we are today. In some ways, it definitely feels like it's where I started to become the person I am today, I can say with a fair amount of certainty that with out the Alpha Lambdas, I have no idea who I would be today. That year definitely holds a special place in my heart, and I will forever look on with with happiness. It's hard to believe that yesterday marked three years since it began. In some ways, it seems like just yesterday we were pledging, getting in, I can still remember everything about that time, and as much as we complained about all the work at the time, I know that I personally wouldn't change a thing. On the other hand, i can hardly remember a time before I knew them. Before we were the "creepers." the Lambs. The Furious Five. I often wonder too what role Marina would play in it all if she hadn't left school and refused to stay in touch. We wouldn't be the Furious Five, that's for sure. The Sassy Six maybe?


Or maybe, I should write about the end - Senior year. The 4 O's. Really, it's more than senior year, it's the summer after Junior year, the year we lived at the 300 Zoo. When the 4 of us were inseparable, we still had our Lambdas, but the O's were different. We were roommates, they were my best friends. I probably miss the year on 300 more than any of the other years, although I think it's extremely safe to say that with out the first three years happening the way they did, I doubt that the fourth year would have much significance. The year was passed on the porch, cups in hand. It was passed with inside jokes, laughter and knowing that before we could blink, graduation would be here and it would all be over.


I look back on my college years as the best four years of my life, even though it has been a little over a year since it has ended. I haven’t written any thing substantial in a long time, aside from blog entries, and I want to capture these 4 years before I forget them. Because that is my greatest fear - forgetting one second more of this time. I know some moments have already faded from my memory - things that are seemingly insignificant but truly helped to define the person I have grown into.


We entered as children, completely on our own for the first time in our lives. The choices we made during these years led us down paths. Some of these paths we forged together, others we traveled alone. But through it all we were there for each other. We left as “adults” ready to face the world and what ever it would bring. At least, that is what we were told as our identity as college students was stripped away from us - whether we were ready or not.

It felt as though we weren’t ready, but the events that have happened since than have proved that maybe we are ready to take on the roads and lives that lie ahead of us. Like we have a choice in the matter.

That is the story I want to capture - the little moments. Those moments that to an outsider, may seem like a forgettable, completely unremarkable encounter, but to me are the snippets of time I wish to hold onto more than anything. The moments passed on the porch, in the sorority house, where time almost felt like it was standing still to give us another moment to savor, but in reality it was hurling us forward into the unknown.

the best years...take 2.

I decided over a year ago that I wanted to write about my college years. Actually, somewhere in the abyss of my mind, I decided it before I even graduated. On the surface it seems like it should be easy enough. But will I ever be able to give those years the justice they deserve? And if I can, then comes the hard part - narrowing it down to the events that matter most, because in 4 years at my beloved Alma Mater, I had enough (mis)adventures to fill a library.

So what do I write about? Do I write about the 20 or so of us who ran around campus together as Freshman, like we were invincible? The newness of everything still fresh in our minds, just starting out on our adventure. The Codorus Girls and the Evergreen boys - we thought it would go on forever. I could easily capture the newness of it all, the struggle to adjust to life with out parents and siblings, aunts and uncles. How from day 1, we started to feel like a family and high school started to become a distant thing of the past, so easily forgotten .


I could also right about our tumultuous Sophomore year, once the newness had worn off but the end was still no where in sight. The "hump" year. Not Freshman, we knew the routines and the dailiness, but we weren't quite upperclassmen thinking about what would come after. For me, it was the year of J and A, two of my best friends. Two girls who I have the dream friendship with. When Julie and I are together, we speak a language that only Ashley can sometimes understand. It's funny how much of that year they consume, especially when considering that they would have such little impact on my last two years of school, but have, since graduation, come back to once again be 2 of the people I trust most in this world. Two people with whom time never changes our friendship - months can pass with out talking and then a phone call changes everything, and nothing has changed between us. Two people who I can't imagine my life with out.


Or maybe I should start with Junior Year - the year of the Alpha Lambdas. The end was slowly starting to creep into our vision, but it was still so far away that it hardly seemed tangible. The year of Phi Sig - when the 5 of us became who we are today. In some ways, it definitely feels like it's where I started to become the person I am today, I can say with a fair amount of certainty that with out the Alpha Lambdas, I have no idea who I would be today. That year definitely holds a special place in my heart, and I will forever look on with with happiness. It's hard to believe that yesterday marked three years since it began. In some ways, it seems like just yesterday we were pledging, getting in, I can still remember everything about that time, and as much as we complained about all the work at the time, I know that I personally wouldn't change a thing. On the other hand, i can hardly remember a time before I knew them. Before we were the "creepers." the Lambs. The Furious Five. I often wonder too what role Marina would play in it all if she hadn't left school and refused to stay in touch. We wouldn't be the Furious Five, that's for sure. The Sassy Six maybe?


Or maybe, I should write about the end - Senior year. The 4 O's. Really, it's more than senior year, it's the summer after Junior year, the year we lived at the 300 Zoo. When the 4 of us were inseparable, we still had our Lambdas, but the O's were different. We were roommates, they were my best friends. I probably miss the year on 300 more than any of the other years, although I think it's extremely safe to say that with out the first three years happening the way they did, I doubt that the fourth year would have much significance. The year was passed on the porch, cups in hand. It was passed with inside jokes, laughter and knowing that before we could blink, graduation would be here and it would all be over.


I look back on my college years as the best four years of my life, even though it has been a little over a year since it has ended. I haven’t written any thing substantial in a long time, aside from blog entries, and I want to capture these 4 years before I forget them. Because that is my greatest fear - forgetting one second more of this time. I know some moments have already faded from my memory - things that are seemingly insignificant but truly helped to define the person I have grown into.


We entered as children, completely on our own for the first time in our lives. The choices we made during these years led us down paths. Some of these paths we forged together, others we traveled alone. But through it all we were there for each other. We left as “adults” ready to face the world and what ever it would bring. At least, that is what we were told as our identity as college students was stripped away from us - whether we were ready or not.

It felt as though we weren’t ready, but the events that have happened since than have proved that maybe we are ready to take on the roads and lives that lie ahead of us. Like we have a choice in the matter.

That is the story I want to capture - the little moments. Those moments that to an outsider, may seem like a forgettable, completely unremarkable encounter, but to me are the snippets of time I wish to hold onto more than anything. The moments passed on the porch, in the sorority house, where time almost felt like it was standing still to give us another moment to savor, but in reality it was hurling us forward into the unknown.

Monday, November 9, 2009

The road is winding, but...

Over at 20sb, there is a really interesting topic discussion right now: describe your life in a 5 word sentence. After a long debate, I decided on

The road is winding, but...

I know - it's not a compete sentence. And I also know, it's open ended. It could be happy, or it could be completely depressing.

For example;

The road is winding, but it is worth it.
The road is winding, but it will straighten out eventually.
The road is winding, but you will get there one day.
The road is winding, but sometimes it goes in circles.
The road is winding, but it can end at anytime.
The road is winding, but it is not with out forks.

So what about you? How are you defining your life these days?

And on a side not, has anyone heard the Glee version of Defying Gravity? It's bringing tears to my eyes.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Sunday Smiles

1) Books
2) Gilmore Girls
3) Enjoying work
4) crushes

Friday, November 6, 2009

Aussie land? Mais, je suis.


I envy him. In Hunter's world, everything happens the way he wants it to, and if it doesn't, he moves on.
He wants to go to Australia? He's going to Australia. He realizes it costs money? No big deal, he's going to play his harmonica for money and then go.
Dad won't let him out of the house to play his harmonica? No problem. He goes on youtube and it's all better.
He is self-content, not relying on others for his happiness. He could go days with out communicating with anyone, and it wouldn't make a difference to him, not at all.
Disappointment doesn't last long in Hunter's world. Neither does sadness. He's mostly a little ball of happiness and energy.
Yes, I envy him.

But then I think about to other side of it..he can't tell you how others are feeling. he doesn't feel empathy. He doesn't feel guilt. His emotions can be categorized as either "happy" or "momentarily sad." He doesn't have words for anything else he feels. Mostly, it's happiness.

He lives in the moment. He isn't thinking about the future, he isn't thinking about something that happened 2 years ago. He's thinking about now.

I envy him sometimes, I really do.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Harder than a rubix cube

I've been sitting here in front of this page for almost an hour, trying to come up with something to say. I have a million little thoughts going on in my mind right now, and I can't seem to find the right one to write about. I don't know what to say about anything.
I want to just freeze the world for a few hours, to give my mind time to catch up.
I'm 5000 words into my novel for NaNoWriMo. 45000 to go. Can I really do this? Can I really write a novel?
I'm having some difficulties with this one - I'm a very character driven writer. I know my characters, and tell their stories. This one came to me in reverse - I know the story I want to tell, but I'm still getting to know my characters. I know my background characters pretty well - it's my main characters who are still hiding from me.
Maybe I'm trying too hard.
Maybe, for the first time, since I know where the story is going I'm afraid. That I'll actually accomplish something. I'm finding myself in my usual paradox - I'm to afraid of failing to succeed. I know I can never fail if I don't try, but parts of me are so afraid of that failure that sometimes it doesn't seem worth it to try.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Sunday Smiles

1) Loving your job...even if it's not a "dream job"
2) Organic chocolate soy milk
3) a NIECE to be born in February
4) A book that makes you feel like you're catching up with an old friend
5) My little princess, Matilda

Saturday, October 31, 2009

The hardest thing I'll ever have to do

Addiction runs in my family.

I grew up knowing my father and his brothers were alcoholics. When I was 12, i found out that my father was also a heroine addict. I'm proud to say he's been clean and sober for 7 years.
My mother has an alcohol problem - i don't know if i'd say addiction yet, but it's heading that way.

It runs in my family. I've known this. It's something that i find myself battling against every day - I try not to drink often, because I don't want to develop that addiction.

I've never so much as tried smoking pot. I try not to gamble either. It's how I try and minimize my chances.

We've known for a while that my little brother has a drinking problem. He's only 17..so young to have something that lasts for your entire life.

Tonight was the final straw. He got a friend to by liquor for him - drank the entire thing. He had gotten into a fight with his sometimes girlfriend earlier in the night. He ran out of the door and down the road. We live off of 2 highways and several fairly busy roads. I got in my car and went to look for him. My sister - who is pregnant - got in her car and went the other way.

It's mischief night. the cops are out in full force. And he's stumbling running down the street, punching anything that got in his way.
Finally, he falls and passes out on the road. On one of the main streets in our town.
Fortunately, someone stopped and helped us get him into the car. He woke up and started banging his head against the door.
I've never felt so helpless in my entire life.
He asked to get checked into rehab. He started crying, telling us he's been doing coke. He wants to die. He yells that his mother abandoned him. His father hates him.

meanwhile, my heart is breaking.
he's sleeping on the couch beside me right now.
tomorrow, we will take him to a teen rehab center about an hour away.
it will be the hardest thing i've ever had to do.

mikey, i wish i knew how to help you. i wish i could take this pain for you. i'm your big sis, it's what i'm supposed to do. but i can't. i don't have the right skills to help you. i can't make you listen to me like when we were little. i can't change this.
so tomorrow, when you are angry and upset, know that me and becca are doing this because we love you. because we can't stand to see you continue on this path. because we don't know what else to do. because we want you to live up to all the potential you have inside of you. you are a good person - you're just a little lost right now.
and it's ok. we all stumble sometimes. but the most important thing is that we have to pick ourselves up, even if that means accepting help from others. even if it means doing something hard. i promise, we will make it better.
even if it means putting your faith into someone or something else.
i love you little brother. even when you are having trouble.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Milk and Cookies

Dear Gia,

I woke up thinking about you today. It's not your birthday, it's not the day you died. It's just another day. But you were on my mind this morning. Although, you are never far from it.

Can you believe in June, you will have been gone for 5 long years? I look back and try to see where those 5 years have gone, but I can't. I remember when it was one month, and 6 months, and how terrible it still felt one year later. It still feels terrible, but I no longer trick myself into believing you are alive.

Except at Christmas. When Aunt Sharon comes through the door at Christmas, I still half believe that you will be right behind her. I wonder if that will change this year.

It's hard to believe that you would be 25 if you were still here - do you get older, where you are? Or are you still 21, younger than me now...the same age your sister is? That was tough for Aunt Sharon and Aunt Bunny - that exactly a month from now, your little sister will be older than you ever lived to be. I know it's on their mind, because when that day happened -the day I was older than you had lived to be, Aunt Bunny called me. She told me I was officially the oldest.

I'd rather still be the second oldest.

I wonder if Aunt Bunny still counts your death in days. I know Aunt Sharon doesn't, but last Christmas - Christmas is always hard - when someone spoke your name (you see, we still talk about you. We remember.) - a memory about something impish you did when we were little, and it was just the 2 of us - she said "it's been 1,298 days since my grandbaby left us. how many more until we see her again?"

I wish we had an answer for her.

We still miss you. Becky is having a baby, but I'm sure you already knew that. He or She will be the first person born in our family since you died - another milestone. DJ was only a baby when you died, and now he is in preschool, and like you, a little mischievous imp. But Carlin-Rose or Michael will not know you at all. There will be no pictures of him or her with you, there will be nothing to tell them "Your Auntie Gia once tickled you until you cried." about you - because the two of you will not have existed in the same world.

I remember on that terrible day, June 2, 2005 - a day that is forever burned into my heart - that I thought the world would stop. That time would never move forward and that it was just a matter of time until we all woke up from this terrible nightmare.

But the world started moving again, way too soon. And time proceeded on.

And worst of all, it's wasn't a nightmare that could be stopped.

almost 4 and a half years later, the tears don't come as often. the memories don't always bring a tear and hearing your name can bring a smile.

But hearing Baby Got Back or riding a roller coaster brings me back. Eating a cookie dunked in milk, seeing Jello commercials, the water pistol games on the boardwalks - they all bring you to mind.

And seeing a little girl who wants nothing more than to be like the big cousin she adores always stops me in my tracks. And it brings me back to our childhood and sometimes it feels so real that it's hard to believe it all happened so long ago.

But the reality always comes back too quickly.

You are gone, and I am still here.

I love you. And I miss you. Always.

A comma in the sentence of life.

I had the (dis?)pleasure of finding a fairly old journal of mine - starting a little over 2 years ago and ending up on Christmas 2008. It's one of 2 surviving journals I have - one I gave to my sister a few years ago because she asked for it.
I've been keeping journals since I was 6 - and had about 12 of them from the past 17 years. I used to look through them from time to time, but sadly they, along with most of my childhood possessions, were lost in the Great Move of 07 that No One Told Me About. I know it's been over 2 years, but it's something I still can't get over. They contained 17 years worth of feelings, thoughts and memories that I can never get back.

But this one journal that I do have - because it was with me (at college) when the GM07NOTMA took place - made me really think.

And realize that in my personal notebook, I am very whiny, mopey and all the things I don't let myself be on my blog.
usually. most days.

but there are some universal truths there that i can't ignore.
the number one being (and this has been a reoccuring theme throughout my teenage-present day journals) my less than lack-luster romantic life.
and I can't help but think that maybe on 12/21/08, after getting rejected in a very hurtful way, that I was onto something.

"I really thought things had changed this time...i stopped saying negative things about myself...even more, I stopped thinking them. I let myself be happy and not worried constantly about getting rejected. But of course, The Pattern had to show itself again.
It always starts the same. We go on a few dates, we talk, interest appears to be mutual. Then, it stops. Suddenly. For no apparent reason. He disappears, usually with some stupid explanation, or sometimes he just vanishes. And I never hear from him again. I was a filler between relationships, a comma in the sentence of his love life. Nothing substantial. Just a divider between the good stuff. Something to fill the time.
Certainly, if the pattern has repeated itself this many times, it must be me and not them, right?"


It's happened to me roughly six times now. And it's always very sudden - the one I was talking about on that day...we had been dating for about a month, seeing each other every weekend, talking on the phone every night, when he kissed me goodnight one evening, left, and I never heard from him again. I sent him a text the next day, which he ignored. I thought ok, maybe his phone is broken. Sent him a facebook message, wanting to make sure he's ok. Thanks to the stalkerfeed, I know he's been online. I get nothing back. So I call him the next day and leave him a voicemail. I tell him that I don't care if he's not into me anymore, but I'd really appreciate him TELLING me and not just blowing me off.
Nothing. He literally just dropped off the face of the earth.
it's not like I was in love with him, I wasn't even sure that he had long term potential. I think I really just liked the fact that a guy was interested in ME for once, and not using me to a) get to my friends or b) not be alone. But either way, it still hurt. Sometimes those are the blows that hurt the most.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Sunday Smiles

1) spending time with your favorite preschooler
2) beautiful fall weather
3) books
4) The Yankees beating the Angels (as of right now)
5) Guacamole with sour cream.

Friday, October 23, 2009

An impossible battle.

I don't really know whether I believe in fate or not, because I think free will plays a part, but lately I've come to believe that if you do have a particular fate, that no matter how hard you try to fight it, you will get there.*

I decided around the end of May that I was going to move away, to be closer to my friends.** Two weeks later, my little sister finds out she is pregnant.
Can't leave now, can i? So I grudgingly change my plans and decide I can't move away.
Around the end of June, I decide I want to go to graduate school. The program I want is at Towson, 3 hours away. If I get in, I'm going.
The end of July, they are still missing pieces of my paperwork. Nothing on my part, but my transcripts, my GRE scores, all that fun stuff. The woman in admissions tells me not to worry, I can start the semester up to a week into the semester and from what I tell her, she says I won't have a problem getting in.
The day the semester starts, the rest of my paperwork shows up, but that's what's known as the "dead period." They won't start looking at transcripts again until October. But I've already put in 2 weeks at my job, so I decide I will move anyway.
I've never had a problem finding a job before, I usually get the first job I interview for, so I don't anticipate a problem, despite my family's misgivings about me moving with out a job. There are plenty of jobs down there, my friend B got offered 3 jobs in a week. I'll be fine.
Except I'm not. I'm hardly getting interviews. And when I do, that's the last I hear. From multiple employers.
Come home for a weekend to visit, since my sister has a dr. appointment.

And I get offered 3 jobs without applying for a single one.
A family from my old preschool class wants me to come nanny for them.
While at the bookstore, I help a woman pick out some books for her classroom - she is opening a daycare and thinks I would be great from the preschool.
A manager at the bookstore overhears me helping this woman, and asks me if I would be interested in a job in the children's book department.

Sound like fate, much? I guess there is a reason I need to be in NJ for now, as much as it upsets me.


*I've been writing a novel that's narrated by fate, so I suppose that could also be why the topic is on my mind.
**It sounds stupid, but I don't have any friends at home. I don't talk to my high school friends and I despise pretty much everyone else that lives in my area. They're all going no where in life and refuse to see anything that doesn't happen within a 1 mile radius. I doubt most of them have ever heard of Barack Obama, and if they have, i would bet with almost 100% certainty that they don't know who they vice president is.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

between a rock....and another rock. with a third rock zoning in right about....now.

I'm not a spontaneous person. I usually think every little action out. I play everything safe.

For once, I decided not to. As I said before, I applied to grad school, quit my job (thinking I would start for the Fall semester), signed a lease to an apartment, found out I COULDNT start grad school, and then moved anyway.
Between savings and my dad, i've done alright for the past 6 weeks. But no job has turned up. Plenty of interviews....but no job. Lots of "I'm sorry, buts..." but no "Congratulations, we'd like to.."

I don't know why. I graduated Cum Laude. I have a diverse and well-suited background for every job I've applied for. I volunteer, I've held leadership positions, and for the preschool jobs I have a kick-ass portfolio of lesson plans, bulletin boards and projects.

But nothing.
Basically, I jumped with out a net and hoped it would appear.
It hasn't. And my freefall to Earth will soon probably end with a splat.

I absolutely DO NOT want to move back to New Jersey. I love my family - but all of my friends are down in Southern PA. I absolutely despise everyone my age in this area...I love being near my 3/4 of my closest friends. Despite the whole not having a job and living basically on the brink of poverty, I'm 09327502375x happier than I was in NJ.
I moved back for a year after college, and I honestly think I cried every day, I hated my life so much. I was completely miserable. I think you can count the number of times I went out at night for the entire year on one hand.
But my dad can't really help me anymore, since his company is on the brink of going bankrupt and my stepmom got laid off 3 months ago.

So what's a girl to do? Do the logical thing and move back home, or stick it out where I am? One thing's for sure, I have seldom few days to make up my mind.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Bedtime stories, fairies and other such nonsense.

Do you ever wish life was like a Bed Time story? The whole thing, laid out before you, beginning, middle, and most importantly a Happy Ending. An obviously evil villain, a knight in shining armor to save the day, and The All Live Happily Ever After. The End.

But life is not a bed time story - you never know how its going to end, and sometimes the ending isn't happy. In fact, sometimes, it's just downright miserable. And sometimes the villain isn't obvious. Sometimes, you are the villain in your own life. And the knight in shining armor doesn't always appear in the nick of time. Sometimes, he doesn't appear at all. Or maybe it's really someone else, just posing as your knight.

But then, maybe the best thing about life is that it's not a bedtime story. Would it be any fun at all if you knew how it was going to end? Even if it IS a happy ending.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Sunday Smiles

1) Good smelling shower gel
2) Rereading a beloved book from your childhood
3) Seeing your favorite preschool student
4) Hearing that her parents much prefer you as her teacher over her new "better" teachers (according to the school)
5) Family.
6) A niece who is going to be named after you. :)

Saturday, October 17, 2009

A brief but meaningful story as told by Hunter.

Hunter, being the little doll that he is, wanted to tell "scary stories" before bedtime tonight....his fiercest?

Hunter: (takes falshlight and shines it up under his face) Once upon a time there was a cousin named Girl....and she was all alone forever.
Me: ......
Hunter: Your supposed to say AHHHHHHHHHH Girl, that's the scary part.


My nine year old autistic cousin knows I'm going to be alone for my entire life. And he's right - that may in fact be the scariest story I've ever heard.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

It's getting hot in here.

The world is changing.

That seems almost ridiculous to type. The world is constantly changing. The plates underneath us are moving, the oceans are growing and shrinking. The trees are growing, babies are growing. The world is constantly moving, changing, growing.

And it's getting hotter too.

October 15 is Blog Action Day - where over 1000 bloggers from 140 different countries commit to blogging about a single topic - to inspire change.
This year, 2009, the topic is Climate Change.

I recognize that this is a hot topic. One that even the students in my preschool class were aware of. Last year, during Earth Day, we did a unit on taking care of our planet. And why its important.

"We need to take care of Earth because it is our home."
"If we don't take care of Earth, we won't have places to live."
"Earth is like our baby dolls. We have to share so everyone can have some."
"If the Earth gets hotter like my lunch, can we eat it?"
"We have to recycle so that we don't have to cut down more trees."
"That's why we don't waste paper."
"Is earth going to blow up like Transformers movie?"

The Earth is changing. The climate is getting warmer. Is it natural progression or are humans causing it? There's evidence that shows both.

But does it really matter what the cause is? Shouldn't we be doing everything in our power to slow it down, to save and conserve as many natural resources as possible, if only to preserve it for future generations?

If my three year olds can recognize the simplicity of it - SHARE - why can't we?
let's NOT use all the oil to power our cars so that future generations will have some.
let's NOT send the Earth into another ice age so that future generations will be able to enjoy the beautiful fall and spring weather.

And if all else fails, maybe the Earth will blow up like in the Transformers movie.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

A brief but meaningful conversation with Elly.

I've babysat for this particular family for 3 years - the oldest, Elly, is almost 11. The middle girl, Anna, is 7 and the baby, Jane, is almost 3. Elly is probably the smartest child I have ever met in my entire life.
As a (relevant) example, a conversation we had during Jamie Lynn Spears' hayday went something like this.
(while watching Zoey 101)
Elly: Ms. Girl, do you know that Jamie Lynn Spears is pregnant?
Me: yes...
Elly: And that she is only 16?
Me: yes....
(cue Anna: stopping her homework to watch the conversation)
Elly: One of my friends from school said that was a bad choice.
Me: Well, yeah.
Elly: Well, how is it a choice?
Me: Wh-what do you mean, Ells?
Elly: How is it a choice?
Me: That's a really good question for your mom. Why don't you ask her when she comes home? Who wants ice cream?
Elly: I already asked her.
Me: And what did she say?
Elly: I'm not telling you. I want you to tell me first?
Me: Why?
Elly: To make sure you say the same thing.
(cue Janie crying)
Me: Oh, there's the baby! I better go make sure she is ok!

fast forward to last week...
Elly: Do you remember me asking you about Jamie Lynn Spears?
Me: Yes...
Elly: My mom finally told me the truth.*
Me: Well that's good...
Elly: Why didn't you tell me?
Me: because you're mom can explain it better.
Elly: I don't think so.
Me: Why?
Elly: I don't think she knows what she's talking about.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Sunday Smiles

1) Spending 2 hours in the car with one of your best friends rocking out and not caring who sees.
2) Not picking up a late night phone call from an ex.
3) Short wait lines at an amusement park
4) Knoebels and the simplicity of it all
5) Walking 2 miles with your best friends on a beautiful fall day.
6) Feeling loved.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Blogcation

A weekend away at Knobels = exactly what i need to take my mind off of my current stresses.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Family.

When I talk about family, I could go in so many directions - my friends, who are like my family, my father's side of the family (who could be compared to My Cousin Vinny), actually, I could probably go on for a while about my father. Or, I could talk about my mother's family.

Growing up in my family was almost like growing up in a commune. . In my family there's no "second" cousins, or "great" aunts, (just GREAT aunts).... there's barely a distinction between cousins and siblings, or parents and aunts/uncles. There certainly isn't any difference between full siblings, half siblings and step siblings.

We pretty much had free run between our homes, weekends were definitely spent at Aunt Judy's, or Aunt Mimi's, never at home. Sometimes even weeknights were spent there. And believe me, if you acted up at Aunt Lisa's, you got in just as much trouble with her as you would have with your mom, if not more.

I'm the oldest by 2 years, and the only one who doesn't have a cousin my age. If you ask my brother Mikey who his best friend is, he will tell you my cousin Joe. Bex will tell you that her best friend is our cousin Ange. My brother AJ- his best friends are our cousins Ar and Kev.

It wasn't until I went away to college that I realized that my family is not the norm. Not everyone had Aunts, Uncles and Cousins within grabbing distance. Until I went to college, I never found anything odd about this situation. My college friends didn't and still don’t understand why it is that I am just as attached to my extended family as I am to the family I live with. Even when people ask me to talk about my immediate family, I still can’t help but talk about my aunts, grandmothers and cousins.

I was the first person in my family to graduate high school with out first dropping out, let alone go to college. My graduation, which in any family is a big deal, was a BIG DEAL in my family. Fortunately, Spring graduation doesn't require tickets and anyone can go. I remember marching out, Pomp and Circumstance playing, people all around clapping and cheering for their grads as they walk by.

I look over, and there is my family. Cheering. Mom, Dad, Suzanne, Mommom, Nana, Aunt Judy, Uncle Joe, Bex, AJ, Chris, Aunt Lisa, Aunt Mimi - Ar, Christian, Nellie, Uncle Bo, Angela, Ryan, Mikey. 28 people in all - there to watch me graduate and cheer me on. And that was just the family who was old enough - the youngest of my cousins were at home with the rest of my uncles. My friends laughed and called it "The Girl Fan Club." They were curious as to why my "whole family" was there.

I laughed and explained that it wasn't anywhere near my whole family. And then I explained the universal truth about them - they are just as much a part of my as my mother and sister are, they have done just as much to shape the adult I am becoming, have become. I can't even fathom who I would be without them.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Friendship Part Deux: Bonding

I though my friendship with Missy was strong. She was my best friend throughout late elementary school right on until the end of my first semester of college. We only went to school together for half of one of those 9.5 years. We thought our friendship could survive anything. In the end, the circumstances that pulled us a part were so benign that now, 4 years later, neither of us remembers what happened - only the hurt.

It's safe to say that I was pretty much Missy's only friend, and while I had other friends, there were none that I trusted to the extent that I trusted her. She was a bit on the weird side, unashamed of who she was whereas I was trying to find my place and not really sure who I was or what I wanted. Ultimately, we did not have as much of a bond as we thought. Once we both had other close confidants in our lives (her bf for her, B for me) our friendship fell apart in a matter of months.

Then there's B - she's been my best friend since our senior year of high school. Specifically, since 11/26/03. It was the first time we hung out. My friend Elly and I had tickets to see John Mayer in Baltimore, a 3 hour drive away. Our friend Maggie was supposed to come with us, but backed out the morning of the concert. When I got to Elly's house after school, she told me. We didn't want to waste a ticket, and suddenly I had an idea. B was in my French class, and we'd exchanged numbers that morning for a project. I knew she was a big John Mayer fan and had been jealous of us going to the concert. I decided what the hell and called her to ask her if she wanted to come along with us.
We're been best friends ever since. Bonding over Come Back to Bed and Your Body is a Wonderland will do that to somebody.

I met Jule the second day of my freshman year of college - she lived downstairs and came to a "Get To Know You" party we had in K's room (where most of our significant freshman year memories take place.) It wouldn't be until the next semester that we became friends. We had French class together, and as a freshman, there is nothing worse than having a class where you don't know anyone. Jule sat down in the seat next to me, and we said hello to each other. I asked her if she lived in my dorm, and we've been friends ever since.
We have one of those friendships that is extremely annoying - our brains operate on the same wave length. One can say the craziest thing and the other will still know exactly what she means. We finish each other's sentences and live in our own little world. The only person who comes close to our mental planet is Ash. She usually runs the translations for others in the room. We were known to multiple people as "GirlandJulie" - one word. Our French teacher, who we had for a total of 3 consecutive semesters, didn't know one of us if the other wasn't there.
We're not as close now, but it's something we're working on. She is one of the few people that I know will always be there - we can go months with out talking, but once we can get the other on the phone, it is exactly like it used to be. It's like no time has passed.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Blog Event - On Friendship

PurpleGypsy is holding a blog event on life evaluations, and today's topic is friendship.

Friendship is a constant theme on my blog. It's something I talk about on a fairly regular basis.

That being said, I've had multiple people that I've referred to as my "best friend" over the years. My Best friend forBFF. We can go back to preschool - Tara, or even early elementary school - Ari.

Then there were the groups of friends - the FGS (fourth grade sensations - gotta love Judy Blume or upper elementary, the Llamas of middle/high school. The Fab4 of senior year.

It must be a girl thing to name your group of friends. One group, however, seems to be a constant.

I'm a pretty shy person, normally. It takes me a while to warm up to a situation, to be comfortable and let my real self show.

In the Fall of 2006, my best friend and roommate, K, wanted to pledge a sorority. I had no interest, but agreed to go with her as moral support. What I found was my 4 best friends.

I made many close friends in the sorority, and have quite a few outside. But none of them have been like my pledge sisters. We have a bond that I don't have with any other friends. This time, 3 years ago, we were getting to know each other. Who knew the bonds that would form between us at the time. We're all extremely different - the Nerd, the Slut, the Drama Queen, the Prissy Bitch, the Ghetto Girl - on the outside there is nothing that links us together. In fact, there are probably more differences than similarities.

The only thing that I can think of is that these girls have seen me fall apart. They've seen me a crying mess on the floor, they've seen me euphorically happy and laughing, they've seen facets of me I don't realize exist, and everything in between.

They're the people I run to when I’m having a bad day, when I need help, when I have a funny story to share. They're the girls who, at our formal, yelled at my date for being a jerk. The girls who when my car broke down on the PA turnpike at two a.m. drove the hour and 45 minutes to pick me up, no questions asked. The girls who picked me up when my heart got broken, and put the pieces back together. I can say a million things about them, how they’ve helped me, what I’ve done for them, and I still wouldn’t be giving it justice. I’ve often heard it said that college is when you meet the people you don’t know how you ever lived with out. And I have yet to find any truer words.

Monday, October 5, 2009

13) Reconnect with an old Friend

check.
Although, it wasn't my doing at all..it's one of those things that just kind of happened.

Ari was my childhood best friend. We met when I was 6 and she was 7. We lived down the street from each other - her family moved in about a week before mine did.
I still remember the day we met. It was June, right before school ended. But it was cloudy and I had on pants with a tanktop. I was riding my bike, as far away from my house as I was allowed to go. I had just learned how to ride a two wheeler and was so proud of myself. Ari was riding her bike in the street in front of her house, which I thought was the coolest thing ever. I stopped and watched her as she rode with no hands. This girl, in my 6 year old mind, was so cool. She noticed me watching her and rode over to me, pulled up right along side of me so that our front wheels were touching.
"I'm Ari." she said. "I live in that house. I'm in second grade. Who are you?"
"I'm Girl," I said. "I live down there. I'm in first grade. I'm not allowed to ride my bike in the street."
And so began our friendship. Over the 2.5 years that we shared a neighborhood, we had many infamous schemes and ideas. Among the most famous was our idea to have a neighborhood cheerleading squad and a neighborhood band. We wouldn't play the instruments, just direct the band. Neither one of us could play any instruments.
And then, my mom and stepdad got a divorce and my mother whisked me, my sister and brother away in the middle of the night.
A few days later, she came back to get our belongings from the house. Ari came running down the street when she saw my mother's car. She handed her a piece of paper with her address and phone number on it.
We wrote 1 letter a week, each, for 4 years, until about midway through middle school. We sent emails after that, but at some point in high school, we just lost touch.
This morning, when I logged onto my facebook, there was a friend request from Ari.

I still have every single letter she wrote to me.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Sunday Smiles

1) Seeing your "original" roomie unexpectedly
2) chick-fil-a
3) cupcakes with blue icing.
4) a clean bathroom
5) reclaiming a piece of your college years.
6) sitting around a table at the bar laughing
7) laughing at how old you have suddenly gotten.
8) Will and Grace reruns

Book 2 and 3. Movie numero 2

Read The Book Thief by Mark Zusak. AMAZING. Absolutely amazing. The Holocaust/WWII is one of my favorite historical periods to research. There's just so much there, and you always learn something new about it, even if you've been studying it for years. (Not that I wish for that devasation to occur, but there is nothing can be done to change it now, so might as well research the hell out of it.)
Also read Fishbowl by Sarah Mlynowski. Made me laugh hysterically.

Movie: watched Zack and Miri Make a Porno. weird, by hysterical.

Friday, October 2, 2009

The first weekend of October...

...at YCP, this undoubtedly means ALUMNI WEEKEND. the one weekend each semester where 90% of recent (read:within the past 4 years) come back to relive their college years with the friends who have yet to graduate.

I'm excited beyond belief to see my friends - some of them, I haven't seen since graduation.
There are few things more bittersweet then getting to relive a piece of the best 4 years of your life. I plan to enjoy the sweet part a lot more than the bitter this weekend.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Let it all go.

I realized today that I have been blogging for almost 10 years. I didn't realize it had been that long. According to my aunt, I started my first blog on teen open diary the day after I turned 14...hard to believe it's been that long! That website is now gone, as is my modblog. My live journal, however, lives on, as do my 3 previous blogger blogs. I spent a good chunk of today rereading through my old entries - its amazing how young I sounded.

While driving back from my interview today, my mother called me 9 times.
I caved. I talked to her.
I miss her. I'm tired of being mad. Apparently my sister made up most of the things she told me my mother said.
I don't know. I'm just tired of being angry, it takes too much energy. Anger is easy. Forgiveness is harder.
I'm working on it. I'm trying. I feel a lot more at ease then I have in a while.
Are things perfect? no. Can I forget everything that has happened in the past few years? no.
But can I forgive?
yes.
tonight, at least, I can forgive.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Profound thought of the day:

"A good friend is a connection to life - a tie to the past,
a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world."
- Lois Wyse

One of my college roommates had this posted as her away message on aim today.
I miss her. I miss all of them. I miss the craziness of the 300 Zoo and the awesome year that we all lived together. It was senior year of college, and we knew the end of life as we knew it was in sight. (Yes, it sounds dramatic, but when something as significant as college graduation is coming, it IS dramatic) We drank too much, skipped class too often, laughed way too loud and made too many memories to name. It was the perfect senior year. The best way to end college. We were the 4 O's and J, plus Rosie and Posie. The 4 of us who spent the summer at 300 had a special bond - one we thought would last forever.
It didn't. M and C stopped speaking to me and K - and although C and I are talking again, a little, it's nothing like it was. I miss them both more than I can describe. K and I talk about it a lot. We had one of those friendships where we were one unit. We knew where the other 3 were at every time - and we were always laughing. No drama. A lot of laughter.
I miss it.
Most of the time they were simple things - the night that J and K got into a fight, M and her bf had just broken up, my crush decided I wasn't good enough and C had some family drama going on - we watched sad episodes of Grey's and cried together.
Or those awesome summer nights when we had the music blasting on our porch and we danced, beers in hand. And when school started serenading drunken freshman...for the fun of it. We had prime freshman watching land - right on the corner near the freshman dorms and smack dab in the middle of the party street.
Or the late nights playing drunk bus and laughing hysterically at M for insisting she wasn't drunk.

The memories, to anyone else, would seem unimportant, completely insignificant. But when you really look at them, they are what true friendships are made of.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Avoidance should really be my middle name.

I'm a true procrastinator in every sense of the word. I put things off until the last possible minute, every time, never fail. It's how I deal with confrontation.

I avoid avoid avoid. The messy bathroom? been messy for over a week. The books the cat knocked off the book shelf last week? still on the floor. The pile of clothes? Sitting across the room from the laundry basket. Matilda's litter box? scooped it on Thursday.

Guy I've decided I don't want to talk to anymore? avoid. Bad hookup who wants to do it again? run the other way when I see him. Mother who's trying to get in touch with me? don't answer her 4 emails, 9 phones calls, 4 text messages and 2 wall posts to my facebook (although in my defense it's because i dont want to say something i will regret in 10 years)

I know it's a problem, and I know that I need to stop being such a wuss and grow a set. But I can't help but think about the times I've faced something head on...like the mess referred to by my friends as the St. Patrick's Day Incident that Never Happened of 08. (oh yes, there is more than one SPDItNH..March 17th has never been my finest day..)

The week before St. Patty's Day, I met this guy, who we'll call WWIT*. Wwit was nice, albeit slightly dorky (just the way I like them) and better yet: socially awkward enough to make me the more outgoing party. We talked a little, and then I made the mistake of mentioning to one of my friends that I thought Wwit was slightly cute.
She told me that he was a good friend of hers, had never kissed a girl, and then ran off to organize the hookup. She always had a big mouth, damn her. There was no way I was hooking up with someone who had never kissed a girl at 22.
4 shots of tequila and 2 cherry bombs later, I decided that a kissing virgin was better than nothing and proceeded to talk to him for the rest of the night. A little after 2, I decided my roommate would be asleep and I could drag him home. We get up to my room, and all of the sudden I have to pee. I mumble something about having to pee, come downstairs and look in the mirror.
My hot and smokey eyes look a little smeared..ok more then a little. They look like raccoon eyes, and my face is bright red as it always is when I'm drunk. But really. I don't think he's in any position to complain and after my 6 month makeout dry spell, I really don't care. So I head back upstairs and pray hes as drunk as I am.
I open the door. He's naked. on my bed. at half mass.

WTF?

I close the door, open it again, just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. And sure enough, there he is. still naked.
I can't help it. I start to laugh.
Apparently, this is offensive, as suddenly he's not even at half mass.
Wwit asks me if i'm always like this before sex.
I ask him if he always expects sex before any foreplay.
He asks me to define what I mean by foreplay.
I tell him to put his clothes on and i'll show him.
In my drunken state, this still seems doable.
He gets dressed and I attempt to makeout with him. He informs me that he doesn't enjoy kissing, but prefers to get right into other stuff and proceeds to start groping me.
And I think wow, he might not be into kissing, but he must have some inborn instinct about how to move his mouth around a boob.
And then the pants come off. And I suddenly have to pee again.
Go back downstairs, and pass out on the bathroom floor**
When I come back upstairs in the morning, he's gone.
It's a fairly small campus, but fortunately for me I never see Wwit on campus since he is a business major and never has classes in the Humanities and Life Science buildings. My friend who originally introduced us told me that he had a great time and wants to do it again. I am completely flabbergasted. WTF? Is he INSANE? Or did he time-travel and assume that I am the owner of his v-card?

The next weekend, St. Patty's Day weekend. Kegs and eggs at the college bar, a pastime at my school. My roommates and I manage to get a table, and are sitting there when Wwit comes in with his friends. I quickly hide under the table. Avoidance #1 is successful, he doesn't see me.

Later that day, we're on our porch doing Irish car bombs and drinking green beer*** when Wwit is walking down the street, again with his friends (later find out they are his roommates). I run into the house and stay hidden, hoping he has just kept walking by instead of stopping by to see if I'm home. Avoidance #2 is a success.

Later that night, at the bar. How we are still alive at this point, I do not know. I turn around and bump straight into Wwit.
He asks me if he can come over tonight.
I laugh at him and ask him if he is mentally disturbed, really naive, or if he is suffering from one night amnesia.
Apparently this is about as amusing as laughing at someone who is naked in your bed.
he tells me that he had a great time, until I passed out.
I inform him that I passed out because he was such a stud.
this sarcasm was not well received. by not well received, i mean he thought i was serious.
he informs me that if i enjoyed last weekend, i would enjoy tonight even more.
i double over in laughter.
he tells me laughter is not a turn on.
NEITHER ARE YOU, i yell. before puking on his shoes.****

*stands for what was i thinking.
**this may or may not have been done on purpose
***how exactly do they make it green? I try not to think about this....
****For the record, that was the second time in my entire life I have ever vomited while drinking. The first time I later found out that I had the stomach flu.


This is why I avoid. Confrontation does not suit me.

Book 1/60

1) Read 60 new books (1/60)

Milkrun by Sarah Mylnowski

The story of every single 20-something girl's life. It's like having a conversation with one of your best friends and yourself at the same time.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Sunday Smiles

1) Spicy Guacamole with sour cream
2) Lizzie McGuire marathon on Disney
3) Pomegranate Green tea
4) Adventureland
5) Buy 2 get 1 free book sales
6) a full tank of gas

.001 down, 100.998 to go!

51) Watch 25 new movies (1/25)

Watched The Hangover with K and Re yesterday. I think that may be the hardest I've ever laughed at a movie. Especially the end credits.

I talked to my sister Bex yesterday. October 19th I will find out whether I am having a niece or nephew!!!
And she also told me that when my brother was still groggy and coming out of anesthesia the other day after his emergency surgery, that he was crying for Mommy. I really wish I had the capability to hate her for that.
I also informed Mikey that if he EVER scares me like that again, I will kill him.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

high school?

Last night, for the first time in the 5 years and however many months since I graduated high school, I missed high school. Or I felt nostalgic for it...slight difference.
My Big coaches cheerleading at her alma mater. K and I went to watch the cheerleaders since it was homecoming. All around us the high schoolers are decked out in their black and red, cheering, the cheerleaders are yelling and the band is playing.
It made me miss colorguard. Standing in the bleachers yelling "GO WEST GO." Spinning my rifle out on the field and hearing the drummers start cadence. Getting to the school at 8 am on saturday mornings to get our hair braided. It made me miss the safety of high school, of knowing where you stood and who you were...or who you thought you were.

I've never had these pangs of nostalgia for HHW before. At graduation, all my friends and classmates crying and all I could think about was how much longer. Even when I first started college, I had already put high school behind me. I'm used to missing college - high school not so much. Not that I despised high school (the way I hated middle school). I actually enjoyed most of high school, especially my senior year, but i didn't have that love for it that most people have. I was always looking forward to college, I always knew the best was yet to come.

Friday, September 25, 2009

mama drama

I've always hesitated to blog about my mother. She's different now than the woman who raised me - in fact I can hardly find any similarities in the two at all. So I don't like to blog about her because to be quite honest I don't want the whole world thinking that badly of my mother, and thinking that i'm the miracle who got through it all ok (as my friends like to put it) because the fact is - she raised me to be the way I am. She wasn't ANYTHING like the person she is now, and to be quite honest it terrifies me.
She's going through what I would call a "mid-life crisis" if I was being kind, but if I were to tell the truth I'd say it was more like she's going through a complete mental breakdown/satanic possession. It started a few years ago, when her and my stepdad divorced.
She started sleeping around, ignoring my younger siblings who were still at home - except for Bex, who at 17 she started taking to the bars with her. We stopped talking as much, because to be honest I couldn't really take her like that. Although, it's nothing like that anymore. It's worse.
A few years ago, I came home and was "greeted" on the porch by a man who I had never met. I walked up to the porch, bags behind me.
"who are you?" he asked.
"I'm tee's daughter," I said.
"no you're not"
"uhhh yes I am."
"no, tee has two kids, bex and aj"
"umm actually she has 5. and i'm the oldest"
"no, she has two. she told me so herself."
"well she was lying because SHE IS MY MOTHER."
"are you sure?"
"I think I know who my mother is."
Now, mind you, my mom only gave birth to three of us - me, bex and AJ. Mandy and Mikey are my stepdad's children, who she raised as her own, who she raised us to call our brother and sister. (I got my butt beat for calling Mandy my stepsister once).
So, my mom has moved to florida, bex has gotten herself pregnant, and NO ONE in the family is talking to her for a multitude of reasons, too numerous to name here. But, she has continued to disown Mikey and Mandy, telling the she hates them and she never loved them, etc. Mikey, especially has taken it hard because she is the only mother who he has ever known. It KILLS me that she is doing this.
Anyway, a few nights ago, Mikey, in a fit of rage, punched something with glass in it, sliced and artery in his arm and tore quite a bit of ligament/muscle. His dad, after he calls 911, called my aunt and sister (I'm about 3 hours away from home in PA). The three of them spend all day/night at the hospital with him, through a surgery, etc. Dr. isn't sure if he is going to regain full use of his hand, only time will tell. But that's not the point.
The point is that my MOTHER called Bex and gave her HELL for sitting at the hospital with him. Had her in HYSTERICS. Told her she was going to get the whole family to turn against her, that she despised her.
WTF. I can't even comment on her right now. I haven't spoken to her since March, but I honestly want to call her and give her a piece of that hell right now, but it's just not worth it.

I keep telling myself she will come around eventually. And hopefully, when that time comes, it won't be too late to undo the damage she has done.

Unfortunately, I think it's already too late for that.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Are there few things...

that a day with your best friends can't fix? Is there anything a day with your friends can't fix? B, K and I spent the whole day watching movies. And we went to the castle park (a huge playground with old-fashioned wooden structures), stalked out our sorority sisters on campus and went out for sushi.
I felt so much better in so many ways. I wasn't stressing out about money issues, or family issues (even though a few more did in fact pop up today) or the daunting job hunt. I just enjoyed spending time with two of my favorite people.

My cousin Ar asked me if they were my best friends now instead of B. And I really thought about it. Are they? It's true, when I'm in crisis I turn to them first. They're the people i hang out with most, and i talked to each of them daily. Have they replaced B as my best friend?
I guess on the surface that's what it seems like, but the truth is it's really more complicated than that. When you're a child, it's black and white, you have your best friend, you have your other friends. As an adult, it's gets more complicated. I have my best friend since high school, I have my best friends from college, and they are important to me in different ways.

The lambdas...We've changed a lot in the 3 years the 5 of us have been friends. Our friendship has changed a lot, but the core of it is still there. We've been to Hell and back together, and I can't really think of anyone who I have ever been more comfortable around. We're completely honest with each other, to the point of brutality sometimes. We laugh way too loud and always seem to cause a bit of trouble where ever we go...but that's what makes us, us.

Misc. ramblings

Glee may quite possibly upstage Gilmore Girls as my favorite show. Why didn't any of my high school teachers look like Shuseter? (and for that matter, why didn't our football players look like Fin?)
It's a tough call between The Beautiful Life (can we say BEN HOLLINGSWORTH) and Glee...but in the end, Glee won out because it's got more than eye candy.

Does anyone know anything about Kitty separation anxiety? Becuase I think Matilda definitely qualifies...baby jumps in the shower with me, snuggles while im in the bathroom and generally won't leave me alone.

It's recruitment time at York College, and seeing everyone's "I LOVE PHI SIG" posts has been depressing me. just a bit. This is the second year i haven't been there for it all, but the daily messages from my grandlittle keep me enough in the loop to still miss it. Although, after this year, pretty much everyone who was there with me will be gone. But it makes no matter.
I still miss it.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Text Sex?

I despise talking on the phone. I sound like a 5 year old, I’m bad at making conversation, and to be quite honest just find the whole ordeal of telephone conversations to be awkward. Then cell phones come out. And the text message right along with it. And suddenly phone-phobes like me have a way around it! The TEXT, you heavenly function you. No longer must we make awkward conversation with people we don’t want to talk to! The phone rings, you leave a voicemail. I text you back. We text. Happy ending for all. Same goes for sex.

Wait. Sex? Text Sex?

Yup, it’s true, Text Sex. Sext. what ever you wish to call it is apparently taking over the world. While talking to BikerBoy last night, he informs me that he is “hard as a rock while thinking of doing me.” Am I the only one who finds it completely strange? That you are typing these messages of hot steamy moments you desire, sending them out, over wavelengths or however text messages travel, only to be recieved in the phone of (hopefully) the one you are desiring, hoping that they are alone?

Is that considered sexy?

And more importantly, is sext a downgrade or an upgrade from phone sex?

Maybe i’m in the minority here, but I don’t find anything sexy about it. It doesn’t turn me on. It doesn’t make me want to run to your house and jump into your bed. In fact, it makes me feel slightly skeevy. Especially since we haven’t even met. but even then.

God willing, when Mr. Right (now or forever, i’m not picky) his idea of foreplay and/or romance will be more than a couple of raunchy text messages.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

The Plan

The best way I know to change something you despise about yourself is to just do it. Now unfortunately, my many qualms with my body and looks won’t go away over night, and that is what I consider to be the source of much of my unhappiness.

You see, my senior year of college, I decided I was sick of being the “fat one.” So I decided to lose weight and I did, 65 pounds in 9 months. I dropped multiple sizes, and though the curves I desire didn’t show up, I was content with how I looked semi-naked.

And then I moved home.

And I gained back the whole 65 that I lost…And I am as miserable as ever.

So i’ve decided it’s time to say good bye to the pudge for good. (hopefully.)

Before I turn 24, I WILL relose the 65 I’ve regained PLUS another 20.

all leading me to the ultimate goal of finding The One and losing my virginity.

although it doesn’t necessarily have to be in that order.

Just saying.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Reality? No Check...

When I was 10, I wrote a letter to myself, to be read when I turned 21. I figured, according to my calculations, that I would be just graduating college (that mythical place that I always dreamed about) and my life as a real person would begin. I wrote it, thinking that I would never forget about it. But I did and 21 came and went, with out me reading this very important letter addressed to “Ms. Grown-up Girl.”
But shortly before my 23rd birthday, I stumbled across it in a stack of old report cards and other forgotten papers. I read it. And it sent me into a tizzy. At 10, when I pictured my 20s, I saw myself married, with children, and a job that I loved. I even included pictures cut from my American Girl Magazine and Teen Beat of the things that I would have in my life. What my husband would look like, what my kids would look like.
What a dreamer.
Clearly, at 10, 21 is a lot older than it actually is. However, reading the thoughts of my 10 year old self with 23 year old eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder how I ended up here, so far away from who I wanted to be. No boyfriend, no dream job, and definitely no kids. It seemed like I had moved home after graduation and put my life on pause for a while, although I guess time never got the memo.
And so, I took action. Since turning 23 two months ago, I’ve:
applied to graduate school
quit my job
been unable to start said graduate school
relocated 3 hours away from my family anyway
continued to job hunt in this craptastic economy
gone on more bad first dates than I ever thought possible.

…in that order.

Not to mention that I:
haven’t had a real relationship since high school
am unqualified for any job that a really want
and have come to accept that I am not the heinous creature i’ve always seen when i looked in the mirror, but still hate my boxy pot-bellied curveless body anyway

oh, and the clincher? at 23, I have yet to lose my virginity. a real sore spot in my side. Probably one of the things that bothers me most in life.

This has to change. I need to hit the play button back on my life. These are supposed to be some of the best years of my life, and I am squandering them away while I wait for life to sweep me up.

And thus has begun what I have dubbed my pre-quarterlife crisis.