Happy Halloween

In honor of Halloween, I wanted to post a cute pic. No real reason, but it can't hurt to look at a kitten.

We got a grand total of 4 trick or treaters. Oh well. This just means I have a helluva supply of peppermint patties and now and laters for awhile. Those 4 were very cute. Especially the tiny little girl that was dressed as a pink carebear. I was speaking to a friend of mine in England and she saw a little 3 year-old boy dressed as a zombie, and when she asked what he was he said he was a "zombwee." Aww.

Well I'll be damned...

As of midnight... I'm now 24.

I'm assuming it's rather anti-climactic, but still pretty cool. Last year I had a couple then-friends that planned a party for me. It was fun, but I was picking confetti out of my hair for days. I refuse to talk to them anymore, for reasons I don't particularly think need to be published. This year I have no plans, for lack of money and friends nearby. Honestly, I'd rather have not much in the way of plans-- it's better than being around those former friends of mine. My mother and aunt are taking me shopping, and that'll be great. Then I think we'll make dinner or go out to eat somewhere. I'm fine as long as they don't get the waitstaff to sing to me. I'm not expecting much of a fuss. I'm just glad I made it to another birthday (just check out my accident timeline-- I'm lucky I didn't Darwin myself out of the genepool haha.)

At least this week I can get some mail that doesn't require me to write a check ;)

EDIT:

I just wanted to add what actually happened today.

My aunt drove up. She got here an hour and a half late, but really that wasn't much of a surprise. We piled into my mother's car to go to the mall, and we got about a half mile away from home when the car started to sputter, shake and buck like mad. We pulled to the side of the busy road and it got worse. We barely got the car back into our driveway.

So, plans totally shot. My mom just felt wrecked. She got the damn car tuned up last Thursday, to the tune of 1700 dollars. It's got 90,000 miles on it, but it was running just fine before they "fixed" it. Ideally, after that tune up, new brakes and wiring...it should be running fine. The car's 8 years old, but it's never, ever done that before. What really got me was that my mom was feeling guilty for "ruining" my birthday. I set her straight. Her bum car is more important than me getting a new pair of sneakers. It't not like October 28th was cancelled. It's just a day. Anything we were planning on doing can be done another day.

No mall, but we had to take my aunt's car to the grocery store since we were out of everything but toilet paper (but in the end, isn't that ultimately important?) We made it quick. We had to stop at the car dealership to pick up mom's loaner car. So not fun. By the time we got home it was 3:30 and I hadn't eaten anything yet. My birthday dinner was a turkey sandwich, and I made my own birthday cake (2-layer white cake, with raspberry filling and white chocolate frosting.) I didn't mind it, it was a box mix and I like baking.

I spent my day waiting for my aunt, waiting for a tow truck, waiting at a car dealership and then taking a nap. And to think people thought I was going to go out and be crazy.

I got a bunch of emails and phone calls from friends. They're the greatest. I've felt so isolated lately that their simple gestures really saved today from being the lamest birthday I've ever had. Each message made me smile and made me relax, and I think I'll sleep well tonight.

I'm almost amused by how wrong things went. Hey, no matter what happened-- I'm officially 24.

Can the gods make me tired?

As usual, my insomnia kept me awake far later than is wise. For some reason I woke up at 7, though. That gave me 3 hours of sleep. I'm hoping I can fall asleep again before 9.

My problem is sleep-onset insomnia. It takes me forever to fall asleep and I wake up easily. Once I'm up, I'm up. There's too much running through my head to relax. I have to pull out my old standard, my giant book on Egyptian archaeology. It gets me to concentrate enough to fall asleep.

Yes, I'm a geek.

Halloween Is A Tradition

Damn the bat-shaped peppermint patties for tasting so good!

Now that I have that out of my system...

I'm really excited that I'm living somewhere where there's going to be trick-or-treating kids. Granted we used to get them at school, great loads of candy-grabbers that trekked through my giant residence hall clutching heavy bags or pillowcases. After graduation I lived in an apartment complex that was just not conducive to trick-or-treating. Now I'm in this new house and we have a ton of candy to give out. I remember how fun it was until I was too old to go. That was, at least, one upside to living in a very small community. Damn near everyone had their porch lights on for us.

However now that I'm in charge of candy dispersal I have my own issues with those people that are out doing their own candy-begging.

1) If you have pubic hair or your voice has changed-- stop. You are too old.

2) If you damage anything on my porch I will uphold my right to wave a broom at you and be "that neighbor" that yells "GET OFF MY LAWN!" I've had a pumpkin smashed before and the sheer carnage is horrific. If eggs or TP get anywhere near this house I'll have the cops on speed dial.

3) Parents that carry their own bags bother me. If you can make mortgage or rent payments, you can buy your own candy.

4) If you insult me, I won't give you anything and give twice as much to the other kids with you.

5) All costumes are cool...but if you come dressed as "broke frat boy" or "sexy bunny/cat/devil" I'll throw a mini gourd at you.

There is a bright side to me being a bitch.

1) I promise to never, EVER give out those awful orange or black-wrapped taffy/peanut butter things that NO ONE EVER LIKES. We have premium candy here.

2) I won't ever give out toothbrushes. Or floss. Or pennies. Or apples. Or trading cards. Or popcorn balls. All of which I've gotten and had to throw out.

3) I will compliment every kid on whatever they're wearing.


I miss dressing up. Right up until last year I had a reason to get all duded up as something or other. Last year was a bit of a disaster. I ordered a costume online and counting shipping it cost me over 70 bucks. It turned out to be a matronly, ill-fitting mess of a gothic dress. I wore it with the kids at work and then wore my little black cocktail dress out to the party I went to. I also learned that night that fake eyelashes are the cosmetic appendages of the devil himself. They started to fall off and my face looked like it was molting.

In college I had the best time, despite the fact that my costumes were usually last-minute. 3 years ago I'd just turned 21 and I'd dressed as Hermione from Harry Potter. Basically that consisted of a purple velvet witches hat, a wand and black clothing. That night is a bit of a blur, and despite pictorial proof I choose to believe that certain things were not seen. On a semi-related note-- vodka-soaked gummi bears are evil.

Two years ago was probably the best, if out of character for me. I decided to be a vampire. Again, there was the black pants, and a black shirt with fishnet sleeves. The shirt posed an interesting issue. I wanted to show a little cleavage so I cut a slit in the neckline while I was wearing it to gauge how low it went. Then when I tried to pull it off it ripped another inch and a half. Clear nail polish on the edges kept me from getting a ticket for indecent exposure. I ended up naming the shirt my "baby's ass-smuggling" shirt. I have to have a sense of humor about it. I found this fantastic cheap wig that was black, curly and fell to my waist. I bought some sweet fake fangs to go with all the red and black jewelry.

Then I found out that I couldn't speak, drink or function with the fangs in, so I had to take them out. Everyone kept asking me what I was so I just began to say I was Elvira. It was great fun, but I was happy to change back into sweats at the end of the night.

This year I'll just paint my face up somehow. I have enough makeup lying around to do something bizarre.

Accident Timeline

I've always been a klutzy person. I don't get injured as much as I used to, but I still trip over my own feet and walk into walls. I did rip this idea off from LindsayQuinn-- http://lindseyquinn.blogspot.com/ , but I changed the format since I can't remember any dates.

I count this because it was an accident. I was about a year old. It was not long after my mom went back to work and I was with my first babysitter. Apparently I found one of her cat's toys and chewed on it until the catnip inside fell out. So I did what babies do with new things, and I crammed it into my mouth. My babsitter found me gnawing on a ball of catnip, so she called my mom- who proceeded to go crazy with worry about me being poisoned. She called my doctor who told her "She'll be ok, she'll just be...hyper...for a little while."

When I was about 5 or 6 my knees were constantly scraped up. In fact, throughout elementary school (and why kid...high school as well) I was well-known by the school nurse to come in to ask for band-aids. I always kid with my mom that if she had ever lost me that she would have to put my face on a band-aid box and not a milk carton. One time I was goofing around with my dog and she knocked me down. I re-opened a cut on my knee. I still have the scar. I also banged my head on the sidewalk. Nothing new.

I learned how to ride my bike at 7-- and rolled it, flipped it, and crashed it. All the time. I lived on a hill and I used to love huffing and puffing my way up to the top and cruising down. My mother came outside to watch me do it one afternoon. I did fine until my bike hit a rock. I flew off and continued on down the hill full-speed on my knees.

Then once I was on a long bike trip around town with a few friends, we were on the side of the road and it was very sandy. My front tire slipped off the edge of the pavement, dug into the sand and I flew over the handlebars and smacked down ribcage-first onto the road. It knocked the wind out of me, I scraped my chin, knees, and hands. My glasses flew about 4 feet when I landed.

I went to tennis camp at 12 in Florida, at the University of Gainesville. My group was walking across a parking lot together and I tripped over my feet and ended up skidding on the pavement for a few feet on my face. The left side of my face was a giant scrape. They don't make band-aids that big, and the huge scab ended up coming off when I was in the pool. They don't make therapy for that.

Then, at about 13, I wanted to learn how to rollerblade. I used an old pair belonging to my mom's boyfriend's son. I was in the middle of the road when my ankle rolled and I dropped. I bruised my ass, and scraped my hands again. I couldn't get up and one of my friends had to help me get out of the way of a car. Did I mention we were out there at night?

Also at 13 I was hit in the face by a backpack in the hallway at school. I didn't realize my nose was bleeding til a teacher flipped out and told me to go to the nurse. Turned out the bridge of my glasses had been shoved onto my face so hard that it had cut me. Quite the badass geek injury.

At 14 I had a tiny pocketknife that I used to play with (yeah, I should have known better.) Until it shut on my right middle finger and cut down the bone. I should have gotten stitches, but I was too busy waving my hand around like a total spaz and swearing. I still have the scar for that too.

Also at 14 I was accidentally hit in the back of the head with a golf club (2-iron, to be specific) during gym class. I blacked out and hit my knees. I was out for about 10 seconds, I think. I finished the mini course the teachers set up and then told my gym teacher. She immediately told me to get to the nurse (it had been about a day since I'd last seen her.) I was given an ice pack and advice not to fall asleep.

Also at 14 I got caught in a riptide when boogie boarding on Wilmington Beach with a friend. I freaked out and had an asthma attack and my friend and I had to be pulled onshore. My info is presumably still on file with the Beach Police. In the last 9 years I've only been immersed in the ocean once-- snorkeling in St. Thomas.

Between 15 and 18 I was too busy being an angsty mess to really notice much else. But when I was 17 one of my friends was kidding around and pushed me on a flight of stairs. I fell and knocked my kneecap out of alignment. Worst pain to date with the exception of migraines.

In college most of my injuries were of the "Unidentified and Drunken" variety. Nothing new.

The summer before last I was shopping with my mother and as I stepped off of a curb my trick ankle rolled again, so I fell and landed on it. I sprained it by falling on it. Unfortunately at the time I was working at a summer camp with tons of kids, and the requirement to teach nature classes. I hobbled my way around until my boss was wise enough to realize that I was horrible with nature and shifted me to another position.

And last week I was trying to put some lotion on my legs after I shaved. I propped my leg up on my bed and somehow got my foot caught in the footboard. I scraped my knee on my bedframe (never too old for that!) and crashed into my chair. While I didn't fall down, I felt like the world's biggest idiot.

But since no one saw me, all I can do is laugh. My birthday is in a week, and I just wonder if I'll continue to be a klutz for another year. The magic-8 ball says-- All signs point to YES.

Sockfooted in the Pit

I got back earlier today from my trip downstate . Honestly, it was exactly what I needed. It'd been too long.

The highlight was yesterday. We got all dolled up (to the point where I actually want the pictures to turn out well) and drove down to Hartford CT to see My Chemical Romance. They're her favorite band and I'd have to be an idiot to turn down a ticket. We got a room at the Super 8 closest to the CT Expo Center and as we waited for our cab to bring us to downtown Hartford for dinner my friend got the shock of the month when the lead guitarist for MCR walked past us. She went over to talk to him and he seemed really cool, but maybe just not too used to people approaching him.

We had dinner at a place called CitySteam. I totally recommend it to anyone that'll be in Hartford. And since we were taking cabs everywhere, we were doing some drinking. My friend went for cosmos... I did my usual "hmm... that name sounds interesting..." tactic in choosing a drink and ended up with something called a Border Patrol-- in which the first three ingredients were Yukon Jack, tequila and Jim Beam. With a splash of juice for color. Somehow it tasted good. I'd say it brought back memories but my nights drinking Beam and tequila are a tad hazy...

Yeah, so I had 3. I was fine, though. We were just in a really good mood.

After dinner I was already cursing my stupidity in wearing a pair of Jenny's boots instead of my beat up sandals. Then again, stupidity should be painful. They looked fantastic, until I found myself hobbled like an elderly horse.

The doors opened at 6, but as we waited in line I came to a disturbing realization...

I am getting OLD. Not physically, but mentally. There were so many teenagers there that I felt like a chaperone. Not a good feeling. I'm fairly sure I have t-shirts older than those kids. I was amused by the "I'm Different Just Like Everyone Else" feeling that they all had. The only thing that's changed in the 10 years since I was 13 is there's more black makeup and less use of the words "grody" and "spaz."

We were a little confused. It seemed almost as though any guy between the ages of 16 and 30 had been barred entry-- but now that I think back, there was a conspicuous abscence of anyone aged 16-30. It was a little unnerving at first.

The show itself was unbelievable. Reggie and the Full Effect and Alkaline Trio opened. But the agony of my feet was starting to really detract from my fun. So since the whole place was general admission and it was a pretty chill crowd (despite the overwhelming stench of raging hormones and bad cologne,) I took the offending boots off and carried them wrapped up in my jacket. So there I was, sockfooted in the crowd. And never Not Once was I stepped on. So what if I looked like a total fool, I felt better. I was talking to a girl that was working at the door and she asked where my shoes were and pointed at my uber-non-sexy white athletic socks. I explained that they were killing me, and if I had to put them back on I would. She just laughed at told me to pull the hem of my jeans down to cover my feet.

MCR came on and it just was deafening in that concrete-floored open space. However, with taking my boots off I shrunk from 5'8" back to 5'5" in a crowd full of people taller than me. I was having a great time, enough to forget for a little while what was still waiting for me so impatiently back here at home. They sound amazing live, and it was a nice change from the maudlin music I've been listening to lately. The last song of their encore was "I'm Not Ok (I Promise)" and I'm absolutely not embarassed to say that even though I lost my voice I was still drowned out by the people around me.

After the show ended my friend wanted to try and meet the band out by the busses. We sat on the curb with 3 other girls (the first really NICE people we'd met all night, if you didn't count that girl at the door and the bartenders.) We waited for over an hour, but it was getting really cold and my poor sock feet were getting numb (and they were at this point more of a dingy gray color by this time.) On the bright side, we met the band's dog on the walk back to the Super 8. Well, we spoke to the guy chasing after the dog, anyway. I couldn't figure out why in the world he'd pick the tiny little jack russell up by the skin on its neck/back, but even though the dog didn't protest and it didn't hurt him...I was hoping he'd pee on the guy's shoes. We walked back to the hotel, past the adult bookstore with the creepy guys hanging around the parking lot and finally got to sit down.

Holy hell, 7:30 AM came fast, though. We got back to her place by 10, and by 12 I was on my train... by 2:30 I was asleep in my own bed. Nice.

Totally worth it.

Why does the laundry never seem to end??

I'm getting ready to go to my friend's place this weekend. My train tickets have arrived and I'm doing laundry (like that's anything new.) I've gotten together a pile of pictures she's never seen, a bunch of me at my old job, some of my new baby cousin and random shots of the last year. I even have the formal photos taken while I was on a cruise last October. Despite the fact that we've been friends for 4 years, she's never seen me dressed formally.

I mentioned that I'm taking the train. I have this "thing" about travel. Every time I fly I invariably end up seeing some documentary like "WHY PLANES CRASH" the night before. In one instance I caught a rerun of CSI the night before I flew to FL-- it was about a guy going ballistic and being killed by other passengers. Now I see that my travel "thing" isn't limited to planes. Today I turned on the news and first thing I saw was a story about a train derailment about a half hour away from here. 18 cars jumped the tracks. Thankfully no one was hurt.

Grrrreat. Then again, I'd walk if I had to.

I was talking to my mother today and mentioned a cute story about my brother. When he was 7 and I was 17, we were both at my friend's house and my brother asked if we could go swimming in the lake. I told him I couldn't. He asked why, and I just reiterated that I couldn't that day. My friend immediately understood why-- because I'd just gotten my period. But my brother just nodded his head and said solemnly, "I know why you don't want to go swimming." I was surprised and asked, "You do? What have you been learning in school??" He nodded again and said, "You don't want to get your glasses wet."

What could I say to that besides, "Yep, you're right."

Karaoke...still going.

I got my hair cut today. FINALLY. It was taking over my head. I got damn near 7 inches cut off and it's still down to my shoulders. It feels funny. I have to get used to it and stop using so much shampoo. I maintain that a good haircut can do wonders. It's like Prozac without the prescription for me.

I'm making a new playlist for MP3 player for this weekend. It only holds about 50 songs max (I can really only have jealous dreams of the Nano for now.) Whatever, my little baby works perfectly. I love this playlist, it's all over the map. I should be a bit embarassed about a few of the songs, but I refuse. This is more or less my bedroom karaoke set list as well.

1) Richard Marx "Hold Onto The Night"
2) Richard Marx "Right Here Waiting"
3) Natalie "Goin' Crazy"
4) Rockwell "Somebody's Watching Me"
5) Ludacris "Get Back"
6) Dido "White Flag"
7) Genesis "No Son Of Mine"
8) Michael Buble "Home"
9) Sheryl Crow "The First Cut Is The Deepest"
10) The Police "King Of Pain"
11) Michael Bolton "How Am I Supposed To Live Without You"
12) Whitney Houston "Heartbreak Hotel"
13) 50 Cent "Candy Shop"
14) 50 Cent "Disco Inferno"
15) The Corrs "One Night"
16) Linkin Park "A Place For My Head"
17) 98* "The Hardest Thing"
18) Staind "So Far Away"
19) Howie Day "Collide"
20) Armageddon soundtrack "Leaving On A Jet Plane"
21) Jo Dee Messina "My Give A Damn's Busted"
22) Garth Brooks "What She's Doing Now"
23) Joe Nichols "Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off"
24) Green Day "Wake Me Up When September Ends"
25) Kanye West "Gold Digger"
26) Dido "Sand In My Shoes"
27) Dashboard Confessional "Vindicated"
28) Garth Brooks "The River"
29) Ani Difranco "What If No One's Watching"
30) Aaron Lewis/Fred Durst "Outside Live"
31) Martika "Cross My Heart"
32) Mr. Mister "Broken Wings"
33) Tommy Lee "Hold Me Down"
34) Tommy Lee "Trying To Be Me"
35) Tim McGraw "Do You Want Fries With That"
36) Ace Of Base "Don't Turn Around"
37) Martika "Toy Soldiers"
38) Annie Lennox "Into The West"
39) Staind "Zoe Jane"

I actually have a request for anyone that may read this. Could you just leave the names of some of your favorite songs? 80's, 90's, recent...whatever genre. I gave up on the radio and I'm always looking for new stuff (or trying to remember who sang some one hit wonder in the 80's.) Thanks!

Killin' Time...

1. Have you ever been searched by the cops? no, I don't usually attract police attention. I like it that way.

2. Do you close your eyes on rollercoasters? yes, because I'm deathly sure that I'm going to fly off the tracks and I don't want to see the ground coming.

3. When's the last time you've been sleigh riding? Likely about 10 years ago-- I went sledding all the time when I was younger, which meant that I threw myself down a very steep hill on a pre-formed plastic disk. I usually didn't aim for the ice jumps, but hit them anyway. I guess it's just not childhood if you don't lose consciousness in a snowdrift a few times.

4. Would you rather sleep with someone else, or alone? Right now I only want to share my bed with my pillows. And my teddy bear.

5. Do you believe in ghosts? yes, why not?

6. Do you consider yourself creative? yes, once in a while.

7. Do you think O.J. killed his wife? Most likely. I don't think Kato did it.

8. Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie? Brad.

9. Can you honestly say you know anything about politics? yes.

10. Do you know how to play poker? I've played poker once. I actually won.

11. Have you ever been awake for 48 hours straight? I can't do that anymore.

12. Do you kill bugs that are in the house? I vacuum them up.

13. Have you ever cheated on a test? yes, way back on an elementary school spelling test.

14. If you're driving in the middle of the night, and no one is around..do you go through red lights? I don't have to worry about that.

15. Do you have a secret that no one knows but you? Of course.

16. Boston Red Sox or New York Yankees? I'm all for Boston creating a new dynasty-- they can win every 89 years. Other than that-- I'll stick with NY.

17. Have you ever Ice Skated? I tried once-- my ankles wobbled and I fell on my ass more times than I could count. It wasn't worth the pain.

18. How often do you remember your dreams? A few times a week. I usually don't remember the really good ones.

19. When was the last time you laughed so hard you were crying? I'm not sure.

20. Can you name 5 songs by The Beatles? Not off the top of my head, I'm kind of tired.

21. What song are you playing right now? Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional. But I was just listening to "Right Here Waiting" by Richard Marx. My recent playlist is positively schizoid. Everything from Garth Brooks to 50 Cent to Ani Difranco and Genesis. Yikes.

22. Do you believe in love at first sight? Lust and confusion, yes...love, no. Perhaps my glasses are just smudged.

23. Do you know who Ba-Ba-Booey is? I know he's a cartoon character.

24. Do you always wear your seatbelt? Always. I don't risk it.

25. What talent do you wish you had? I wish I could fly. No, I'm serious. In reality-- I wish I could sing better.

26. Do you like Sushi? I like the kinds I've had.

27. Have you ever narrowly avoided a fatal accident? Yes, I suppose I have. The ocean tried to kill me when I was 14. Riptides suck. What sucks more were the shark sightings reported later that day.

28. What do you wear to bed? A t-shirt. I sleep under a very big, very heavy blanket. With my fan on, haha.

29. Have you ever been caught stealing? Nope.

30. Planes, Trains or Automobiles? Trains.


31. Do you truly hate anyone?? Not hate, really... but Pat Robertson makes my head hurt. He's such a jackass.

32. Rock and Roll or Rap? Both. I also think I may be one of the 5 people out there that really liked the Tim McGraw/Nelly collaboration.

33. If you could sleep with one famous person, who would it be? Wentworth Miller.

34. Do you have a relative in prison? Not that I'm aware of.

35. Have you ever sang in front of the mirror like your favorite singer? See #21

36. Do you know how to play chess? Badly.

37. What food do you find disgusting? Onions.

38. Did you ever play, "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours?" No.

39. Have you ever made fun of your friends behind their back? Never to hurt them.

40. Have you ever stood up for someone you hardly knew? Yes.

41. Have you ever been punched in the face? One of my friends accidentally punched me in her sleep when we were in 2nd grade.

42. When is the last time you threw up from drinking to much? Several years ago.

43. Have you ever walked out on a movie at the theater? Yes. I was 12 and went to go see Jurassic Park with my mom and uncle. It scared me so I left and bought a ticket to see Dennis the Menace.

44. Do you ever sit through a bad movie, just to see how bad it can get? not so much now, but yes.

45. Would you consider yourself obsessed with anything? Lost, trying new hair supplies, and Harry Potter.

46. Have you ever met someone famous that you really wanted to meet? I met Lewis Black at school. It was like meeting my hero. On a semi-related note, I once went out with a few other people, along with Howie Day after he played a show I went to. I honestly thought he was a complete tool. He was just rude and although I love his music...I still to this day think he was a jerk.

47. Have you ever been stood up? No.

48. When's the last time you screamed at the top of your lungs? Probably a few days ago when I was thinking about how bad my cell reception is.

49. Did you ever do something that you didn't want to, just to fit in? Hasn't everyone?

50. Do you consider yourself "the biggest fan" of something? Brownies, and Lost.

My muse came back. Didn't even bring me a t-shirt.

I admit that this is true, despite the fact that I usually write fiction. Don't ask where it came from, I'm just up late and I felt like writing out of the blue. It's so rare that I had to sit down and do it. This isn't something I usually go on and on about, but why not? It can't hurt. Semi-anonymous self-expression is the reason I started this thing ;) I can go back to my regular style tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'll never be a raving beauty. I won't experience the pressure and support given to those that are uncommonly beautiful. It's not that I loathe or fear looking into a mirror, I just don't think I should base my life on the reflection. Or let it control my sense of self-worth.

I was a pretty little girl growing up. I was patted on the head and my parent's friends talked about how "cute" I was. Over time, it changed from "Oh, she's going to be a beauty" to "Oh, but you have a such a beautiful face." I've learned it's easier to tune most of it out.

All those asinine cliches, those pointless words of wisdom, they're sprayed around with all the accuracy of a firehose and the usefulness of a broken vacuum cleaner. It may be wiser to tune those out as well.

Why listen? Where did it become such a standard in this society that to be truly beautiful you need to fit a narrow, confining, strangling ideal? Who decided that was the ideal? My head spins when I try and think about it. So I try not to.

I don't consider my approach to be one of resignation or cynicism. It's simply easier. I have to believe that although my face will never launch a thousand ships, that I'm still a worthwhile person. It sounds silly, but it's harder to do than most people realize. I spent years of my life hating myself or parts of myself for not conforming. I hid myself under dark and shapeless clothing. I drew pictures of myself, labeling what needed to change. I picked my own body apart, from the hair on my head to the shape of my toes. I never realized how hurtful it was until much later.

I deliberately kept others away, in a bastardized version of self-preservation. If I had that space around me, I could control my destiny. Or so I told myself. I hurt the ones that were likely the best to me. I blamed the world for my own dysfunction.

I never starved myself, or gagged like a rich Roman after I ate, but I rigidly feared what others thought of me, and what I ate. I often ate very little in public and then soothed myself with food in private at home. In my quest for control I mistakenly believed that in punishing myself, I was worthy. Every small hurt from others, every joke at my expense, were multiplied in my head and caused me to try even harder to grasp at that elusive control. It became harder to deal with, I started getting mad instead of feeling so down all the time. I should thank college for that.

As time went on I realized that that pressure that I was heaping on myself was undeserved. Just because my body was outside of the "acceptable" didn't mean I should be in pain. I slowly realized that the ones that were outside of that insane archetype far outnumbered those that did. It hit me that even those that were part of that group that I so envied, the women that were beautiful, thin and successful, were heaped with pressures of their own. They worried too, about their bodies and making them perfect. As though anyone could naturally achieve perfection. It finally dawned on me. It wasn't so "ideal" after all.

So why must there be such a stringent standard? Shouldn't the human body itself be considered a masterpiece no matter the shape? I decided to follow my own standards, instead of wishing I looked like Kate Moss. I have bad days, where I get angry that I have to fall back on myself so much in a world of "no fat chicks." I've been lucky, I admit, to find friends that agree with me and smack me out of my brief moments of self-pity. I figure it's better to have a well-developed sense of humor than to shy away from the world.

I may not be that raving beauty on the cover of a magazine, but why should I want to be? I'd rather be myself. From my unruly hair, to the marks on my skin, to the pink polish on my toenails.

Relaxing...

My grandparents have been up to visit. Consequently my mother has lost her mind, or at least part of it. Once again my little college fridge is being used to store beer. Only this time it's down in the basement and it's storing her beer, instead of mine. It's not that she's hiding it-- but they don't approve. It doesn't matter that she's 48, she's still their oldest baby. Besides, all our books are down in the basement. She can curl up on a couch and get some privacy-- especially since she had to give up her bedroom for them.

They went upstate for a wedding, and our adventure getting a rental car was, shall I say, ulcer-inducing. The traffic was jammed up so badly that it took twice as long to get to the rental agency. At the agency the guy that rented my grandfather the car spoke so loudly that I dubbed him Sir Yells-A-Lot. Perhaps he's under the illusion that senior citizens are all going deaf and senile. My grandfather may be slow physically, but he's anything but senile.

On the way there I saw a newer-model station wagon. Not a unique sight, except that the driver had an entirely-inflated air mattress in the back. It literally filled the back, including the back window. Obviously this was a driver unconcerned with such mundane concepts as safe driving. By the way-- to the guy that was driving a Hummer with vanity plates-- just shove a rolled-up sock down your shorts. It'll be way cheaper, considering rolled-up socks don't get 6 miles to the gallon of overpriced gasoline.

We also passed a nearby nudie bar...oops, Gentleman's Club. It's a slightly seedy-looking, nondescript small building with blacked-out windows and a sign out front that used to read "GIRLS WANTED FOR VARIOUS POSITIONS." They've taken that down, but now they're advertising their air conditioning.

On a good note I'm going away for a few days next week. One of my friends called me and offered me a ticket to a My Chemical Romance show on the 16th in Hartford, Conn. I'm taking the train down. I'll be downstate for a few days and I'm really looking forward to it. I've been friends with her for over 3 years and since we both graduated we don't get to see each other much. She's the one person I know that knows everything about me-- the good, the bad and the extremely regrettable. She's totally non-judgmental and I absolutely love her for it. So we plan on hanging out, drinking martinis and listening to very loud music on the drive to Hartford. I can't wait. Since my birthday is later this month, it'll be nice to get to celebrate with her.

"Whatever happened to Crazy?"

Ok, I'm past the self-pity portion of my week. I can resume normal thinking.

I passed the test. I took the typing part first and failed it. Then I took it again after the multiple choice and passed it. I don't know how. But I have a paper that said I did. So there. I got an 85 on the multiple choice. I'm not really happy with that, but it's been so long since I took a test that I did the best I could. It was grammar, spelling ( I knew how to spell "acquiesce," but couldn't remember if there were 2 or 3 e's in "preceding",) punctuation, editing and comparisons. I used to be the curve breaker...

Now I'm on a list. Hopefully I hear from someone soon.

I really want to see that movie Waiting-- it's got Dane Cook in it and I love his style (he's on my short list of comedians I must see.) Then I took another look at the trailer and I noticed it also stars Andy Milonakis. That guy gives me a screaming headache. I'd like a few minutes to yell at whomever told Andy Milonakis that he's funny. I've seen funnier homeless men that scream incoherently about armageddon and make crap fingerpaintings on the sidewalk. *sigh* Maybe it's just me.

Perhaps I should stick to watching stand-up. I've got Chris Rock on now.

"You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy, the best golfer is a black guy, the tallest guy in the NBA is Chinese, the Swiss hold the America's Cup, France is accusing the U.S. of arrogance, Germany doesn't want to go to war, and the three most powerful men in America are named 'Bush', 'Dick', and 'Colon'."