I dreamed a dream

So in honor of the approaching holidays, I figured I'd share the dream I had last night. It was extremely realistic for me-so much so that when I woke up I had to check my phone to make sure that it was just a dream.

It was very It's A Wonderful Life-esq.

While the details are slightly fuzzy, here's what I can still remember:

Went back to a townhouse on a Friday night with 3 co-workers who normally do not get along. Hanging out there, expecting to meet up with my brother later who had my old car. Ex-boyfriend from high school, P., texts me, asking when I was expecting my brother, I ask why, and he replies so that he could borrow the car. Now at this point I'm completely confused by everything.

Somehow I meet up with P., at a club-I've obviously been there at some point in my life because it's been in my dreams before. We talk a bit but things are awkward but he's surrounded by people from high school that don't understand what I'm doing there.

Somehow later on in the night we end up back at the townhouse that I was hanging out at before. I feel that something happened but I'm not sure. I'm also not sure if P. met me at the townhouse and the club scene is before/later.

Pass out on separate couches.

Next day I leave and I'm out doing stuff-don't remember exactly what but P. starts texting me about using a car. He never says why he needs it.

I come back about 4 pm to the townhouse and am indecisive about the car use. Finally, I yell, "I haven't heard from you in a good 5/6 years, why the hell do you think that I would let you borrow my car?"

That kind of shuts him up. At some point we come to a reconciliation and are okay.

The townhouse changes back to his house and one of his older sisters is there. She's okay with whatever is going on. P. and I are on 2 different couches and his sister is in the kitchen when all of sudden his mom and other older sister dance their way in. His mom looks better than she did when I last saw her years ago. His older brother-the one that sold my parents the car- randomly walks in too and decides that P. should be able to use the car since he sold it to my family.

The dream ended there-or that's the last bit that I can remember. However, P. had changed. He wasn't the same boy that I fell in love with. He had gained some weight, which wasn't a big deal because I had also gained weight.

The whole thing was very odd and I'm trying to discern what I should learn from it. And all that I can think of is that I should not facebook-stalk at night. I'm extremely confused as to why I should have a dream about someone that I have not thought about in years. Maybe I should not date boys whose names begin with P.-not sure how big of a deal it is but I just realized its a reoccurring theme, maybe I should branch out some in the alphabet? Or maybe I'm just excited to watch It's A Wonderful Life tonight? I only mention that because it seemed as if I was getting a second chance at something-I'm not sure what.

Thoughts?

In continuation from yesterday

I heard from the boy from this past weekend. Talk about surprise. Last night I decorated the Christmas tree with my sister and dad (the rest of the family was too lazy) so I didn't have my phone on me. So we texted a bit before I had to say goodnight-I get tired so easily now. Anything past 10/10:30 pm is too late for me. But he's going back home this weekend for the holidays so really anything could happen. But it was nice hearing from him.

So I was thinking about it this morning though on my way in to work-why is it that guys, when they're done with a girl, just give them the cold shoulder? Is that their version of breaking up with a girl nicely? Get the girl so mad at you that they (the girl) can't even be upset they end things because they're too busy being mad? Ridiculous.

I think that that's the reason why I'm okay with just texting with the new boy. Because once you start having phone conversations, things get serious. I mean, we're talking about staying up all hours of the night like you did in hs. And the things that come out in those conversations are usually very personal. Probably some of the best coversations I've ever had are in the middle of the night. Except for that one time in hs when I did that with a bf who was tripping shrooms-he ended the conversation by breaking up with me. But that whole relationship was a break-he only counts as half of a bf now when I discuss them.

Hey, can I get your number?

OK, so when I give my number out, I assume I will hear from that person that now is in possession of my number. However, I am finding out that that is not the case.

A few months ago I went out to a bar in DC. Had a great time, met a guy, danced, wasn't expecting anything past that night. However, he asked for my number. I said, sure, what the hell and gave it. Got a text from him a few nights later asking if I was going to the same bar that we met at for the happy hour special. I had plans, so I said no. The end.

This past weekend I went out with a bunch of girls to DC. Struck up a conversation with a guy, started dancing and just having a great time in general. And when I had to dance over to rescue a friend, he followed. What kind of guy does that? Most of them have no idea whats going on. He asked for my number so I gave it to him-not sure what I was thinking. But he wasn't from around here-i.e. not born and bred like most of the guys I meet so I figured that he wasn't a complete douche. I might have been wrong. He texted me later that night to make sure that I got back okay and then I haven't heard from him sober or drunk since.

Now granted I could text him - I don't call- but I'm not going to be around this weekend so in my eyes, whats the point of seeing whats up if I'm not gonna be around to hang out?

At this point I'm probably over-thinking things, but honestly, whats the point in asking for a number unless you're going to use it? I never ask for a guy's number because chances are I have no intentions of using it. I'm totally okay with meeting a guy and hanging out for the night and that being that. Maybe I'm missing something, I dunno.

Last Meal

So I've noticed that there have been a few executions lately in the news. The VA Sniper comes to mind along with the guy that dismembered a chick years ago in Ohio who was only given one shot (as opposed to the normal three). While I am against the death penalty, I find it hard to have sympathy for these guys that so brutally murdered strangers.

The part that really stuck out for me was the mentioning of their last meal. According to the Times, Mr. Biros ate the following: "In the afternoon, he had a snack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. At night, he was to be served a meal of cheese pizza, onion rings, fried mushrooms, Doritos chips, French onion dip, blueberry ice cream, cherry pie and Dr Pepper soda" (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/09/us/09ohio.html?pagewanted=2&ref=us). This got me to thinking of what I would like to have as my last meal. I'm pretty sure I'd have at least 2 different types of potatoes. Probably Entemann's donuts-the ones that look like they have rabbit turds on them, a slurpee, wings, strawberries, watermelon, and a gyro.

I'll have to think more on this but what would you have?

Snip Snip Snip

I hate my haircut. Yes, I hated how my hair looked before but that doesn't mean that I love my haircut.

I think sometimes I expect my haircuts to change how I look. Like getting my haircut will automatically make my head look normal-sized, my nose smaller, and my checks less chipmunk-y (from the side). Sadly, my haircuts often tend to emphasize these points. It happens every time I get my hair cut. I wish I could make the vicious cycle stop. I'm going to have to endure a week of compliments on my hair with a forced smile and a 'thanks'. Yes, I'm an ungrateful girl. But it can 't be helped sometimes.

I had a boyfriend who was so good at complimenting me on when I got my haircut-and he always waited a few days after-that sometimes he would compliment me on my hair even when I hadn't had it cut.

It probably doesn't help that my back itches with the invisible hairs freed by the shears.

And it kills me that I keep getting my hair cut. It's probably because I like to look at the inches of hair fall during the cut. This time especially I'm disappointed because my hair wasn't long enough for the style I wanted. I mean, it's shaped that way but not as dramatic as I had wished for because of length issues.

Ask me again next about how I feel about my hair and my answer might have changed.

Say Anything Recap

So everything I feared about the Say Anything concert, I was right to fear. It took me over 2.5 hours to reach my destination. Several calls were made to my friend that I was meeting-she was at the bookstore flirting with cops and not too pleased to answer my pissy phone calls. Once I was off the highway, I stayed on the phone with my friend and she helped direct me to where she parked. Stood in line between some stupid high schoolers-no one is ever smart during that time, no matter if they think they are-who proceeded to bitch about the $1 cover charge if you were under 21. I'm pretty sure that's standard. And the club definitely could have made it over 21 only and still had a packed house.

While the first and second bands played, we got drinks and food. Saw my hs boyfriend walk in with his friends and made sure I didn't make eye contact. Even though we dated in high school and hadn't had any contact since my freshman year of college (different story), I really did not feel like dealing with that kind of thing that night. I was not in a pleasant mood at that point.

When Say Anything came on, my friend and I were able to work our way up to the front of the crowd. From there, we were manhandled beyond belief. We both found bruises the next day. The band themselves put on a great show-playing an equal amount of songs from all 3 albums. We left during the encore -too dehydrated and beat up to stay any longer. I've seen them before so it wasn't a huge deal leaving early. Normally I'll stay until the crew starts taking down the set.

While I'm glad that I was able to see them live, it made me realize how much I like my space to be able to dance during the sets. The Pietasters are an excellent example of this.

Sometimes when I get nervous, I stick my hands under my armpits and I smell them

Before I have a big event or something going on, I always get nervous. I'm not quite sure why because I know that everything will work out fine. Take tonight for example, I'm leaving work early to go see one of my favorite bands, Say Anything, perform. However, they're playing at a venue that I've never been to before. So I'll be nervous about everything until they actually appear on stage.

I've pulled up directions every day for the past week. Today, before I print them out, I'll go through the turn-by-turn directions provided by Google Maps. I will fret about the traffic beforehand and will most likely be unable to concentrate on anything fully today because of it. Once I'm driving, I will check the directions every five minutes or so, just to make sure that I'm going the correct way, though I know that I am-I know the general direction to go. Once I arrive at my destination I will become jittery unless I am able to find parking that does not involve street parking/parallel parking almost immediately. Chances are, I'll be on the phone with my friend who is meeting me there as I try to find parking. Once there, I'll try to make sure I'm in the correct line and will be able to pass along my extra tickets okay. I hate being late, so if I get stuck in traffic, I'll start to panic.

After the concert, I'll be nervous because of all the traffic leaving the area at the same time. I'm spending the night at my friend's place so somehow I'll have to leave the area and follow her/my directions at the same time. My hands will remain clenched on the steering wheel until I'm on a road that I recognize will lead me in the right direction. Because my friend also lives in a rural area, I will have my eyes glued to the road, music on low, driving well below the speeding limit in case of deer. Normally I wouldn't be be such a cautious driver but I know someone who recently got into a bit of a fight with a buck. And my car is a lot smaller than his. I'm not sure if that's a plus or a minus and I'd rather not find out.

However, tomorrow leaving my friend's place, I'll be fine. I've done the drive enough not to need directions even though I'll print them out just in case. If I hit traffic, it won't bother me too much because I'm going home and I don't have to be home at a specific time-just a time period.

I will say that I'm proud of myself because I no longer stress out what to wear. Years ago, planning an outfit to go to a concert was a huge deal. I would agonize over it for days and try on several items before finding one one that was able to convey exactly how I felt. Now, I realize that I will be a sweat machine by the end of the show so I aim to dress comfortably. It probably helps that I don't buy anything that doesn't relate to who I am as a being.

Baby steps.

RunRunRan

So I ran the half marathon up in Pittsburgh yesterday. Holy crap am I sore today-though not as much as I would have expected. But I loved it. I'm definitely signing myself up for a full marathon and will continue running the longer distances.

Between miles 4 and 5, I tripped over a pothole grabbing a cup of water, scraping my hands and knees but my spandex remained intact. Around mile 11, I started to hit a wall. Physically, behind my knees was killing me and the rest of my body just ached. Mentally, I started to question myself and all that I could think of was a glass of Jameson, neat, to drink after finishing. That, and the idea that my friend that I ran it with, to pick someone and to slowly pass them to help us keep moving at pace. It worked. Coming down that last bridge, right in front of the mile13 marker, I just took off. I was at the point where my training and the adrenaline had come together, allowing me to churn on autopilot. As I crossed the finish line, I was elated. I had managed to beat my ideal score of 2:15 by five minutes. As this was my first half marathon-the longest distance that I had ever run at once, I was not expecting a time of 2:10:26.

I plan on taking this week off from running and eating well. However, this will not be a complete pig-out because I'm pretty sure that that would make me sick. I also plan to do some yoga to help ease some of my soreness.

My next run is a Thanksgiving 10k. This will take place in my neighborhood so I'm familiar with the route. My goal is to get a time under 55 minutes. I believe this is doable because when I ran a 10k several months ago, my time was 55:40 and I've only improved since then.

I know a lot of people think that I'm crazy because I enjoy running. Sometimes when I think about it, I'm agree with them. Because who in their right mind would run 13.1 miles? This girl. It gives me a confidence that I haven't received from past experiences. And it makes me want to stick with and to see how much better I can become.

RunRunRun

So I'm running a half-marathon with a friend in a week. It's close enough to actually become a reality where I'm studying the course map since I won't actually see the course until I'm running it. The race is up in Pittsburgh while I'm down here in Northern VA. I'm not looking forward to the drive home-the same day as the race. However, I just discovered that 1 November is the same day as moving the clocks backwards one hour. This extra hour of sleep will come in handy when I have to be up ridiculously early-the race starts at 7:30 am.

I've come to realize that I really enjoy the training. As much as I hate it, I like knowing that my body can run 12 miles and not die immediately. While I might not always enjoy the way that my body looks, I can appreciate what it can do. It gives me confidence.

End of an Era

So I officially cancelled my match.com subscription. While I clearly was not having any great luck with it, it also got to the point where it was too much of a hassle. It is really hard to be witty and funny and cute all of the time, especially when you're not like that normally. I'm sarcastic, short, and blunt. And sometimes it is okay to have a silence between two people and to be able to enjoy it as opposed to feeling the pressure to continue whatever inane conversation was occurring at that time.

It's been about a week since and I feel so much freer. I'm not constantly checking my email to see if I have any new notifications because I know that I don't. There's no hemming and hawing over replies to people that I'm not completely excited about based on whatever they decided to post on their profile. It's amazing, you're given a word limit to write about yourself and somehow you have to invent yourself to sound different but not too different from everyone else out there because after a while, everyone sounds the same and individuality is gone. But at the same time, you can't have a profile that is too different because then no one will talk to you. It's almost like being back in high school, but online.

I thought that I would miss the attention but I haven't. I've got too much going on in my real life to factor in an online life. Work takes up about 12 hours of my day if you factor in my commute. I'm training for a half-marathon that will take place in less than a month so its rare that I have a work-out that takes less than an hour. And then there are all the little things like laundry and watching my TV shows that need to get done. And honestly, sometimes after a long day at work, the last thing I want to do it is meet someone.

At this point in my life I can honestly say that maybe a relationship isn't in the books for me. I'm glad that I have no prospects because I wouldn't be able to give it my all and I'm not the type of person who half-asses relationships because those are called f-buddies. In a month or two I might feel differently-I'm sure I'd like someone to massage my legs and feet for me after the half marathon.

Chain Emails

So remember years ago when the internet was first becoming popular? I was in middle/high school and would spend almost every night on AIM talking to friends. I would easily have four or five conversations going on at once. There was something so impersonal about talking to someone online that made you able to spill some of your darkest, deepest secrets. Of course this usually meant who you like liked and who you couldn't stand and what embarassing thing happened to you that particular day in school.

At this same time, chain emails were going around. You know, the ones were if you didn't pass it on you would have horrible luck, your crush wouldn't like you back, or your wildest dreams would come true. Slowly, it seemed like those died out. Or maybe I wasn't popular enough to receive them after a certain time. Regardless, it now seems like they're making a comeback. But this time around, I kind of like it. Not because it makes me feel popular, but because I'm about to appreciate them in a different light. This time, I take the time to read the story and appreciate what is being said. I actually save the funny emails and will occasionally read them later on when I need a pick-me-up.

I think that one of the reasons why I enjoy them so much is because they are based on a true circumstance. Here's one of the more recent ones I received:

When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the cubicle. You get in to find the door won't latch.. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mum, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the door hook, if there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR !) down with your pants and assume 'The Stance'.In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to lay toilet paper on it, you hold 'The Stance.'To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Dear, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would haveKNOWN there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your bag (the bag around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do, so you crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.The door hits your bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest and you and your bag topple backward against the tank of the toilet.

'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, while losing your footing altogether and sliding down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.

You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just don'tKNOW what kind of diseases you could get'.

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl and spraying a fine mist of water that covers your bum and runs down your legs and into your shoes.

The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a sweet wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDEDit?)

You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this.

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men's toilet. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long and why is your bag hanging around your neck?

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with any public rest rooms/toilets (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers that other commonly asked question about why women go to the toilets in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your bag and hand you Kleenex under the door.

I don't know any female who has had to use a public restroom and has had a pleasant experience everytime. The worst are the bars late at night though by that point you're in and out of that bathroom so much it doesn't matter. But this email is great example of who someone was able to take a horrible experience and turn it into something funny,something that women can laugh at because they've been there.

weather & me

It always amazes me with how the weather affects my mood. Yesterday, for example, was cold, damp, and it rained on and off throughout the day. Therefore I was told by my boss to put a smile on my face and I moved like a slug. I really hate it when people tell me to smile. I can't smile all of the time, it wouldn't make sense. I can't look like I'm excited to be somewhere when I'm not. Today's Friday, so I'm a little wired but not enough to get things really going because it's cold and misty out. However, on Monday and Tuesday-two of the worst days in a week, the weather was sunny and warm enough to wear a dress. I was happy. Not ecstatic, because it was early in the week but content with life.

I've noticed on the weekends that I'm more likely to be productive if the weather is nice outside. There is something that is just so attractive about staying in bed or lounging on the couch when it's gross outside.

Maybe it's because I don't like the cold weather nor the gloom that it brings. The layering of clothes is always obnoxious. I dislike having to plan outfits. I'm more comfortable just being able to throw on a dress and be done. So on gross weather days I'm more likely to just through on jeans/sweats with a t-shirt and a sweatshirt, especially on the weekends. After having to dress up for work during the week, the last thing I want to do is dress up again when I know that I won't be seeing anyone. While I'm sure that the people on "What Not to Wear" would be appalled, I'm sure that they would agree that it's hard dressing up all of the time. Sometimes it just nice to be able to relax and if it happens on a gloomy day, all the better.

It's the little things, like a change in scenery

There are sometimes when I just love my life. Like everything falls into pieces and while it might not be perfect, it completes the moment. This past weekend was like that. One of my college friends and I road tripped down to Virginia Beach. We had gone down earlier this summer in June, and it was so crowded, it reminded me of navigating at Tysons Corner. This weekend however had people but it was not crowded. You could walk around the streets and on the beach without worrying about touching other people. (Always a plus).

Here's a brief rundown:

Friday night we were able to get elevated seats at a bar so we were able to people-watch (one of my favorite things to do). Seeing a 'cougar' in action and seeing her admit to being a 'cougar' was definitely a highlight because that's not something that you would normally see in a bar. As the bar closed and I failed to bring back the bartender-he had a girlfriend-we walked the whole two blocks back to our room.

Saturday, we were woken up to a parade. I've never seen a parade like this before outside of DC (I probably don't get out enough). Streets were blocked and there were police on horses and old men playing musicians. It was great once I was able to wash down some aleve and brush my teeth. The beach itself was gorgeous-not too crowded but great people-watching. I really enjoy watching people interact with each other, especially families with toddlers.

Flirted with some cute guys at the tattoo parlors-why are they called parlors? Enjoyed a delicious dinner in which I was grateful for my lose fitting top which hid the 6month food baby and the fact that my friend and I did not feel the need to converse in loud tones so that everyone would know what was going on in our lives at the moment and how sometimes you just need to bitch. Went out early to bar because otherwise could have spent the entire night just hanging out watching tv, trying to figure out which celebs had had plastic surgery and what they had done. The bar itself was a long narrow thing, and slightly empty when we walked in. Starting the night off with shooters with a side of water, I knew that things had the possibility to get out of hand fast. They did once the dancer that was a friend of the bartenders' came in and started doing her thing. And free shots from the bartenders never helps. My friend found someone so I hung out with the bartenders once the bar closed to allow her to do her thing.

Sunday, after several attempts to get my act together, we left a weekend of tomfoolery. And despite the little rest I had over the weekend, Sunday night I was wired from the events of the weekend most likely. That euphoria has carried over to the next couple of days where almost nothing could bother me.

Virgin Festival & Life

So this past weekend I went to the Virgin festival up in Maryland. In the past, the festival had been a two-day affair with large acts such as the Chili Peppers and Bob Dylan. This year, it was one day with smaller acts but also for free. It was my first time and I enjoyed the experience completely. I designed a converse shoe for a contest (which I lost of course), picked up a ton of awesome free stuff like hair products and t-shirts.

Days later, I'm still on a music high. I'm still rocking out to the bands that played-Weezer, the Hold Steady, Wale, Blink-182, Franz Ferdinand, and Public Enemy among others. But it made me wonder if Virgin would have held a free concert if the economy was better. A lot of the advertisers hacking their wares mentioned the economy as the reason for giving away free stuff as a 'pick-me-up'-free beer too at a certain place and time. But at the same time, I'm trolling for jobs and I'm noticing spelling and grammer mistakes on these ads. I personally have a hard time taking these companies seriously when I see mistakes. Now I understand that everyone is human and that we all make mistakes but come on, job stuff is serious business. To me, an ad with mistakes says that the company doesn't really care about the position or the person necessary to fill that position. So the economy sucks and the companies that are hiring don't really care about the message they're sending out because they know that they still hold the upperhand.

Beauty of Poetry

I've always been a fan of poetry but it wasn't until I took a contemporary poetry class in college that I really fell in love with it. For the first time ever, we were encouraged to give our opinion on the piece. The only thing was that we had to support our reasoning, i.e. if it sucked, then you had to say why it sucked. Plenty of people did but enough people usually liked the same piece so that there would be a debate. My favorite project for that class was to give a lecture on a poet. I chose Bob Dylan. From him, I was really able to see the correlation between music and poetry. I was already a music lover, with lyrics on my bedroom walls, shoes, and notebooks so I took it one step further and incorporated poetry.

About the same time that I started taking more poetry classes, a friend of mine introduced me to Charles Bukowski, a skid-row poet. Bukowski writes in a very straightforward, no bullshit manner. Addicted to red wine and horse races, he makes no excuses for his behavior. Randomly opening "Slouching Toward Nirvana"

I went to the worst of bars
hoping to get
killed.
but all I could do was to
get drunk
again.

(181) from "the suicide kid." Yes, this opening verse is not that happy and the bluntness adds to the bleakness but it is honest, and ultimately that is what poetry should be. Bukowski in many ways reminds me of e.e. cummings with the ability play with the poetic form and lack of regard for rules except for when they fit for him. Both influence my writing, especially in the directness and writing what I know not what I think I know.

I can't walk into a bookstore without buying a book of poetry. While some of them include the works of well known poets like e.e. cummings, Emily Dickinson, and Pablo Neruda, I will also pick up books by lesser-known poets because I either like the cover or I'll open the book to a random page and enjoy that particular poem. I have two full bookcases and about five milkcrates full of books, not including whatever piles I have laying about in my room. A third of all of this is poetry. And while I continue to write on my shoes and notebooks, I restrict my wallspace to closet space only. One would have to say that that contemporary poetry class I took so many years ago was a great success.

It's Complicated

"It's Complicated" is one of the worst phrases in the English language. Coming close behind would have to be "We need to talk," "I'm sorry," and "I love you."

"It's complicated" takes the cake because you know that it is never going to be something pleasant to learn and that it can apply to a variety of situations. First comes to mind in a relationship. It can be in the beginning when you don't actually know if there is a relationship or if one person wants the relationship, titles and all, and the other person does not. "It's complicated" is often used when a relationship starts to sour but before the break-up talk.

It can also be used in work situations. For example, before someone is fired but after they stop showing up to the office on a regular basis.

Even in regular friendships it can be said. Like when you're friends with someone but it takes work or things are as smooth as they should be. I.e. she said that she didn't like your boyfriend the first night she met him when she was drunk.

"It's complicated" can also be used to describe a relationship with inanimate object. I have a shirt/dress/tunic thing that I love. However, I don't wear it that often because I don't believe that it would be appropriate for the office, it's a bit causal for going out, and when I'm home, I'm usually in some type of lounge-wear.

"We need to talk," "I'm sorry," and "I love you" are all horrible phrases for different reasons. "We need to talk" is never good news. There is no way to look at it in a positive manner. It is also very hard to dress the phrase up so that the person on the receiving end of the news is not dreading the talk.

"I'm sorry" and "I love you" are two of the most over-used phrases in the English language. People will say both without really thinking about what they are saying. How many times have you said "I love you" to someone, doesn't have to a significant other, and not really meant it? Its one of those things that girls start to say to each in middle school and never really grow out of. "I'm sorry" is just a convenient way to apologize, whether you're actually sorry or not. People don't pay attention to what they say, much less how they say it. I honestly can't remember the last time that I said "I love you" or "I'm sorry" to someone without actually meaning it. Actually, I can't remember the last time I said "I love you" to anyone. Maybe I'm just an unfeeling bitch. But at least I'm honest about it.

Relationship Musings

I don't think that you can be in a relationship and not love the other person. I'm talking about being in love necessarily but loving them as another human being. Looking back, every person that I've had some type of relationship with-whether we were dating, just talking, or a completely platonic friend, there's been mutual affection. The ability to care for that other person is what makes the relationship, otherwise they have no special importance in your life.


Within the past year I've finished a relationship, I've been completely single, and I've been in that 'talking' phase several times. Going even further back to the guys that I was first interested in, I was interested in them for a reason. I couldn't help but love them for who they are. Yes, I am able to take a step back and see them as a person, flaws and all, but it doesn't change how I feel about them-it just changes the relationship. Example: one guy that I had talked to for a few months had some qualities that just bothered me. There was nothing too odd or creepy about him but those things kept us from meshing completely. But at the same time, I loved talking to him because what he would share with me. He was the first and only guy that had no problem delving into the minute details about his life starting with when he woke up. But then there were other guys where we weren't too close because neither of us had the time to take a relationship and make it work.

But it's always looking back that I'm able to understand more and move on from what I've learned. Which is the beauty of a relationship, knowing it's end and it's closure. Two completely different things but both necessary to moving on. The end is when you realize the relationship is over,whether or not you're still with the other person in some matter. The closure is when you've realized why the relationship didn't work, what you've learned from it, and could potentially be completely platonic friends with the other person. Sometimes it takes a while.

I will admit that there are one or two guys that I look back with sadness because of my inability to realize what kind of people they were. We didn't mesh and I let it go on for too long and ended up hurting them. But since I believe in karma, I'm well aware that this'll happen to me one day.

Love and let learn.

Pietasters update

So I saw the Pietasters. And it was everything I thought it should be and more. The opening bands were great-definitely set the mood for a good time. By the time the show was over, I felt like I went for a run in my regular clothes. I had worn shorts and a halter-top, knowing that the venue was small and that I move around enough to get hot. Boy was I hot-it was totally worth it. I love the feel of music around me and I can't stay still so I was dancing around. It was neat because everyone else was also. Normally when I go to shows there are a few people doing a mosh pit and a lot of head-banging. One of the guys I went with said that it was like I had an internal metronome, which might have been one of the coolest compliments I've gotten.

But ultimately I think that the night was so memorable because of the way it made me feel. A great concert can make you feel invincible and the Pietasters did just that. I still feel like I'm walking on cloud 9 and it's been a few days. And I've never felt like this from a date.

Anyways, I plan on seeing them next week and I can't wait. It'll be their last show in the area for a bit and I'm not sure what I'll do with myself . . . maybe find another band to follow?

Random Thoughts of a Friday

1. I think that I'm single because I don't care enough to date someone. Also, I haven't met someone that's worthy of my time on a regular basis.

2. I've had my shoes on for 3 hours and I'm ready to take them off. They're bothering the space between my big toe and second toe.

3.This pimple that I woke up with this morning on my chin really hurts but I can't stop touching it to see if it's gone away yet.

4. It bothers me on Fridays when the parking lot is empty.

5. People who think that it's their right to speak to someone immediately if they have an issue with something. Sometimes you have to wait in line and sometimes it is your fault. Get over it.

6. I wish that there was a couch in my company's break room. I would be much more productive after lunch.

7. I'm super excited about this already: http://www.loc.gov/bookfest/2009/pavilions.html

8. I probably won't show up to #7 because I am not a crowd person at all. Once someone I don't know touches me, I'm outta there. I'm usually okay at concerts though, go figure. It must be something with music.

The Pietasters

So I'm on the Pietasters kick. I first heard about them in a creative writing poetry class when we had to bring in an object- I forget the exact assignment. Anyways, this kid brought in a ticket stub from the Pietasters concert he went to. He said that he was supposed to go with some friends but they all backed out at the last minute so he went by himself. It was the most fun he's ever had at a concert. I remember everyone being shocked that he would go to a concert by himself. Granted, they are a lot more fun to go with friends or people you know but at the same time, you and you alone, are responsible for you having fun.
A few years later, I dated a guy who made me a mix CD that had a bunch of the Pietasters stuff on it. I've listened to the CD so much that it scratches. But I finally decided that I needed to listen to more of their music because I really like what I have heard. So I bought Awesome Mix Tape #6 a few weeks ago and can't stop listening to it. I currently have a few lines from "What do I do" stuck in my head - in a good way though. I think that the thing I love most about them though is that their lyrics make you think twice about what they are actually singing about. Prime example would be the lyrics to the song "Menowannalikki-U" where they talk about not wanting to go down on a girl because she smells. Which is a completely valid point.

And I can't wait to see them in a few weeks. Finally.

Cnn with a side of Commercials

There's a tv right in front of my desk at work.  I like this because it's always tuned to CNN but sometimes I get tired of watching the same thing all of the time.  Just because something is breaking news one hour does not mean that it will be breaking news the next.  Though I do understand the importance of reciting the information on a continuous basis in case of an ever-changing audience.  And it probably doesn't help that I read a couple newspapers a day. 
However, what really bothers me are the commercials.  Info-mercials are particularly bad because I'll see the ad so many times that I can be talked into whatever they're trying to sell. I did once.  I bought the topsy-turvy tomato planter for my dad for his birthday.  So far so go but we'll see if we actually get any decent tomatoes out of it. 
There's one commercial that comes to mind immediately though-the cookie diet commercial-because of its particular lack of skill of selling the product.  Some of the lines said there are so arkward I physically cringe everytime I hear it.  The one scene where the woman with the stroller walks across the screen laughing just makes it seem that they were trying to eat up time.  It makes me wonder how the product is doing.  I actually haven't seen that commercial on tv for the past couple of days. . . maybe it's gone.

Yes I online date but I don't online date you

So I'm on match.com for several reasons. One of the main ones would have to be because I'm tired of being approached at bars. I go to a bar to drink and have fun-yes that usually means dancing on furniture-not to meet strange guys that either want to take me home that night or to give out my number.What's the point of giving my number to a guy I met at a bar? There is no way to tell the level of drunkeness of either party and how much do you really want to go out with a guy you met at a bar? That's a great story when your friends ask how you met him, "Oh, at a bar-we hit it off, same music tastes and all that important crap." Been there, done that. Trust me, it didn't work out. It probably didn't help that he was in a completely different state. (That's another story). Actually, now that I think about it, that's pretty much the only reason why I'm on match. Well that and the fact that now whenever I bemoan the fact that I'm single, I can say that I've given it my best shot and tried different things-not just different bars.
Being on match.com has not been all that positive-its made me realize how picky I am. I knew that I was that way about food but not about guys. That was kind of an eye-opener. I say "no thanks" to guys that are outside of my age parameters (23-31), guys that don't spell things in their profile correcty-there is a spellcheck, guys that don't really say anything about themselves-yes its hard to talk about yourself but at the same time you've gotta give a girl something to go on besides a picture of you and ten of your closest guy friends, and guys that don't have a profile picture at all. And then if a guy decides to email me, based on what he says depends on wheether or not I'll reply. If I don't reply I'll almost always (unless I forget) say "no thanks" because it's not fair to leave someone hanging and I would hate to be in that situation.
I'll be honest, I've only made it past the emailing and chatting stage once and that didn't end up so well. The guy had clammy hands. That was definitely a deal-breaker for me.
I've been on for a month and a half. . . hopefully I'll be willing to dip more than just my big toe into the waters.

Sublime Nudity

So the other day I found a haiku that I had written in my first creative writing poetry class.  (There is a huge difference between poetry and creative writing poetry classes but I believe that it is self-explanatory).  It goes as follows:

White red polka dots

Purple yellow stripes-nonsense words

Does clothing matter?

And it made me remember the beauty of running naked across the quad in the middle of night.  The world was dead but I was  gloriously alive.  I might not have loved my body but damn did I appreciate what it was able to do.  Legs churning, arms pumping, feeling the air everywhere as I moved, that might as been as close to the sublime that I've ever been able to reach.  There was no room for the self-conscious. 

Granted the actual words in the haiku have nothing to do with streaking but the idea that sometimes you have to take a step back and rebel against the rules is there in both.  And of course the idea that being nakkid is okay.  I tend to find the idea that our bodies are something to be covered constantly horrifying.  But at the same time, you never want to have everything on display. So its all in moderation . . . like most good things in life.