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To be elsewhere
Today was my first attempt at Christmas shopping. Trying to get it all done early this year, rather than the 24th. I have 9 nieces and nephews, which makes shopping more work than I would like it to be. It doesn’t help that there are certain things I outright refuse to buy. Barbie dolls (don’t even get me started on Barbie…), guns, video games, (basically anything violent), computer games (unless educational). Last year I refused to buy my nephew the Creed CD, based on the grounds that I think they suck.
I don’t know that I’m always the favorite aunt
Last night, this fine city got 20+ inches of snow. Which meant driving was shit and it’s damn cold out. I wanted to be 10 years old again. Shit, I would settle for 19. Snow in college was a blast. We’d go sledding on trays stolen from the dining hall. Have snowball wars. Make obscene snow sculptures. All followed up with hot cocoa and baileys. All while we should be in class or studying for finals. The Grinch was a drinking game… with green and red jello shots.
Snow was fun then.
I think I need to go snowboarding. Soon.
Today I am at a loss for words. All day I had ideas running through my head about what to write. But now, when I sit down to write, I can’t come up with a hundred words that I am happy with.
Possible topics for the day:
How not-very-happy I am (trying to break out of that mold)
Crappy weather (done to death)
My current choice in literature (good idea, to be saved for when truly inspired)
Current affairs (too depressing for today)
Shopping (that’s not really something to write about, more something you do)
I think I have writers block.
Besides the fact that this 100 words thing is getting in the way of my journal writing, I think I like it. My words: people can love them or leave them. Finally for once, I don’t give a fuck.
For as I long as I remember I have enjoyed writing. But then at 15, teachers started telling me I was a crappy writer and shouldn’t even try. Through undergrad too. Why would “educators” shoot someone down like that? fuckers. Then I read Kerouac and Selby and Irvine Welsh and realized they were probably told the same thing at some point.
I feel like a broken record.
same thing over and over again.
Remember records? You know, from before cds? Vinyl. 78s. 45s.
I still have some.
a-ha, corey hart, the muppet movie, a
patrick swayze 45
(GASP!), billy idol, the shameful list goes on
then came cds
Vinyl is making a comeback, and these vinyl newbies, they claim they really like the sound quality. I think its people buying into the corporate nostalgia machine
I feel like a broken record.
same thing over and over again.
Remember records? You know, from before cds? Vinyl. 78s. 45s.
I still have some.
I stopped to see him today, as its been a few weeks. Again reminded that he (seemingly) embodies everything I’m looking for in a man.
For 2 years now, I think “I want to kiss him”, “I want to understand him”, “I want him to feel about me, the way I think I could feel about him.” Never out loud. Too scared of rejection. Then “let it go, its never going to happen” and I really think I can do it.
and then we hang, or he stops by, or calls. and its all the same feelings. Maddening
This morning was a beautiful winter morning. Sunny, crisp, not too cold. Now its windy and gloomy, the wind making it colder than it really is. My mood matches the weather. Earlier I was in a good mood, even without sleeping in. Now, I’m gloomy. Maybe because I’m working on a Saturday. I miss the summertime. I miss the heat. I miss going to the beach every weekend. Nothing beats laying on the beach, sun warming you, making you sweat, the sound of the surf in the background. The waves taking my troubles with them. I‘m not so gloomy then.
Last night we went out for Kim’s birthday. Very good time indeed. Managed to get her, as well as ourselves, pretty drunk, which is always fun. And she managed to embarrass me. I comment on a guy’s good taste in footwear, next thing you know she’s tracking him down, screening him to see if I might like more than just his shoes. The questions: “do you like to talk about politics?” and “do you like bands?” if both are yes, he makes it to the next level of play. His name is Andrew. Maybe I’ll see him again, maybe not.
These are a few of my favorite things…
Sleeping late, laying on the beach, going to concerts, friends, traveling the world, Radiohead, Picasso, shoes, men with dark eyes, Buffy, shoe shopping, tattoos, musicians, popcorn, New York City, talking politics, staying up all night and watching the sunrise, Mighty Taco, journal writing, Kerouac, New Years Eve, Jeff Buckley, discovering new things, Ithaca, Selby’s “Requiem for a Dream”, Paris in fall, Madrid nightlife, family, San Francisco, photography, intellectuals, sunshine, knowing my heritage, my grampa, Bach, wine, the sound of waves, planning adventures, being in love (and all its privileges), laughing, endless horizons.
When did tiffani amber theisen start going by tiffani theisen? (you know from “saved by the bell” and “90210”?) Debbie Gibson became Deborah Gibson. Christina Aguilera(*shudder*) is Xtina (what the hell?) Marky Mark is now Mark Wahlberg (ok, understandable). And worst ever, Jennifer Lopez…don’t even get me started on J-Lo
for some reason when celebrities do this it really pisses me off. Like I should really care what celebrities decide we should call them. half the time I’m Sue, half the time-Suzanne. SO who am I to talk? Maybe I’ll change my name to S-He, hey that’s she…that’s pretty funny
She needed a bath
She ran the water, good and hot. Scalding.
Needed to feel clean again.
She felt so dirty.
She undressed slowly, gingerly taking off her clothes.
She would never be the same; she would never be innocent again.
Something was stolen from her, that regardless of how hard she tried; she could never get it back.
That event would affect her ability to relate normally, to anyone.
She would do many things to try to feel like she was in control of herself, her body. (It’s all about control)
She wouldn’t tell a soul for three years
I keep a quote book. Basically it started because people say really funny things, and you really want to remember them, but never do. So I started a quote book. Mostly its work stuff, drunk talk, high talk, random banter. Its usually stuff that is funny then and maybe notsomuch later on. But there are some that regardless of when you go back and read it, its funny as hell. Especially taken out of context. My favorite, my gay friend said (about a copier) “Is there a compartment back there that I can get into?” Still makes me laugh. hehehe
Faherety’s. My favorite pub. good juke box, good beers on tap, nice pool table, variety of people.
Over the summer we went there, me, gobbles, baldy, a plethora of other people throughout the night. And then there was Philip.
Philip; a drunk psychotic ex-con biker that played the Allman brothers repeatedly on the jukebox. We talked to him for about an hour, until he started to freak us out, with his “I’m homicidal, USMC” (pounds chest) he wants a tattoo that he described as “a dagger through a skull that says ‘settled outta court’”
He growled after most statements.
I went to see my brother’s band play tonight. Classic rock covers; music I would normally never pay to hear, but its my brother….
They played this dive bar with a reputation of being a bit rough. Bikers and local alcoholics. Perfect for this type of music.
Guy in his mid-20’s, biker boots, leather, ponytail, sleeve of tattoos on both arms. Someone you wouldn’t want to confront in a dark alley. So, he’s leaning over at one point, and you see that this big tough guy has on Sponge Bob boxer shorts.
Guess you shouldn’t judgea book by it cover.
Most of my friends go to therapists. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one that’s not, or at least the only one that doesn’t need to be. I’ve thought about it though. But then I think that that’s the reason I keep a journal. Its therapy to me. And this may sound cocky, but I feel like I already know what a therapist would tell me. My past, my now, my future, are majorly influenced by 15 minutes of my life. Now matter how hard I try it will always be like that. Whether I like it or not.
(I was 6. Amost 23 years ago. That fact makes me feel old. I’m not really, but the big 3-oh is around the corner. )
So why today? its not even my birthday. In a fit of boredom, channel surfing, I come across a VH1 all 80’s special.
Jordache (had ‘em), strawberry shortcake (had all of ‘em), pat benetar, blondie (still rocks), Who shot JR?, Izod shirts (collar up), roller skating, Miracle in Ice (still makes me teary eyed), The Pretenders (still cool), Caddyshack (still funny)…
that’s just 1980…
“you gotta know when to hold em” Kenny Rogers
There are somethings one should never do. Some are individual-specific. For me- never vote republican, never wear sandals with socks, never eat yarn, never go on a blind date without doing some sort of background check on the prospective suitor. Never buy young children crappy music. Let them waste their own money
But some are universal. Never eat tinfoil, never run with scissors, never jump into an empty pool.
NEVER EVER set up two of your friends. I’m learning this the hard way…
When I travel somewhere, I experience a feeling that can’t be paralleled; a sense that anything and everything is possible. I never want to lose that feeling-but somehow always do.
Recently I’ve been looking into around-the-world tickets, planning the whole thing out, where I would go, what I would see. Basically everywhere and everything. No place on earth I wouldn’t explore. Top of the list: Brazil, Vietnam and Cambodia, and the Trans-Siberian railroad. Travel makes me happiest. That feeling of complete and utter freedom is more addictive than any drug. If only I had the cash to make it happen.
gift from CEO-a snowbrush. What the? Good thing they go all out for the employees. What with the cookies, cheese and crackers at the holiday party, I don’t know how the expense can be handled. Its blue, with brush on one side and scraper on the other. Very fancy. What is nice is the fact that it has brought all of us together, in true holiday spirit…it’s the talk of the hallways. People walking, blue snowbrush in hands, looking at people holding their blue brush, rolling their eyes and laughing. Ahhh…. That holiday contempt of management makes me feel festive.
I got my hair cut yesterday. no one noticed.
Well Gobbles noticed.
He didn’t notice. actually said to me “arent you supposed to go get your hair cut tonight? after that we can go shopping” I told him that it had already been cut. (Didn’t tell him that I also finished my shopping)
How do you not notice when someone cuts 2 inches off of their hair?
I think I’ll go to the art gallery tomorrow. that would be a great way to get away from everything. Lose myself in the beauty of the art. Picasso’s, Matisse’s, my favorite Pollack…
A psychic once told me that my dreams were important in telling me about the course of my life.
Last nights dream…
I’m living in NYC, apartment of my own, somewhere in Manhattan. One morning I wake up to find myself and my mattress supported by an upcurrent of air, basically “flying” through the city. I didn’t know where I was going. Hanging on for dear life, I watched the streets of the Village pass below me, fascinated. Convinced that I was going to fall off, I was both petrified and exhilarated by the possibility.
This has to mean something…
I’m not feeling very festive. It’s the holidays, I have parties and events galore, friends are home from out of town. I should really be a lot happier. I have a good life, friends, family. We have food on our table, a roof over our heads, I know I’m luckier than a lot of people. But over the past few years my family has had our share of horrible Christmas’. Today marks two years since my grandmother passed away. Christmas Eve I am reminded of the birth and death of my nephew Paul. No wonder I don’t feel very festive.
Someone told me earlier this year that in a years time, my life appeared to have become “very big and very complicated- almost chaotic”. That is and was very true, but I see that as a good thing. If traveling has taught me anything, its that I have to think on a grander scale, and not be so concerned about the world within an arms length. There are so many things going on in the world that I was and still am ignorant to. The world is just past my fingertips, and I've decided to reach out and grab it.
“How the Grinch Stole Christmas”, possibly the greatest childrens story ever written. Dr. Seuss had a way of getting a message across (think “the lorax” or “the sneetches”). Anyway, I heard on NPR the other day that the reason he wrote “the Grinch” was because of the commercialization of Christmas. He was totally right.
I left the mall today and passed a man with a sign that said “will work for food”. Seeing this after I spent hundreds of dollars on things people don’t need really, I felt really small. I hope he has a warm place to sleep tonight.
This year, for once, Christmas was what it should be. Everyone around me, happy and healthy, like the black cloud over our family on December 25 was lifted.
It was a white Christmas.
I was leaving my brothers tonight and it was beautiful out. Not too cold, calm, snowflakes falling gracefully from the sky. And an eerie glow that only exists on a night like tonight. Its not light out not dark out. The whole neighborhood was quiet and peaceful and beautiful.
Very Norman Rockwell. Very Americana. In other words, not me, but today, tonight, it was perfect.
Today I’m feeling melancholy. I don’t know why. Yesterday was nice, and today, well its back to work, real life, responsibility, monotony. I’m stuck in situations I don’t enjoy. There has to be more out there, this can’t be all there is to life. This can’t be my place in the world. I know its not my place in the world. Pardon the analogy, but sometimes I feel as if I have dug myself a hole, and am clawing my way out. Somedays I really feel like I’m about to make it out. Today is not one of those days.
Voice message from J last night. Apparently he’s home for the holidays. 2½ years since I have seen/spoken to him. After years of friendship, a little under a year of “what exactly is this relationship?” we somehow drifted apart. Last I heard he was detoxing in Alaska. I’ve wondered how he is, regretted not keeping in touch. So I sent a Christmas card c/o his parents. Right now its phone tag. Hope I see him. I’ve missed our friendship. I’ve got this strange feeling that I always get in this situation:apprehension, mixed with excitement and anticipation. It’s a good feeling.
J’s one of those “enough about me. What do you think of me?” people. He thinks I want more from him than just seeing how he is(we both know what will
happen if we see each other…Not that that would be a bad thing) but what I really wanted to know was that he stopped putting that shit up his nose. It used to scare me, it was like he wanted to die. I think he’s clean now.
Despite his faults he’s a good person, still one of the most loyal people I’ve ever met. That’s rare these days.
I know that I’m lucky.
Its strange that in our society, we have so much. yet there are people that have anything.
Me? I have more than 80 pairs of shoes. Some people have 1 pair that don’t fit. I have over 200 cds. I’m highly educated. Three winter hats, for no apparent reason. Why isn’t one enough? Today I bought a pair of pants I don’t need.
We live in a society of excess. I don’t need half the things I have…other people do. Yet I go out and I buy more. Why? It’s really starting to depress me.
Iraq. North Korea.
Both part of George W. Bush’s “axis of evil”. So the war mongers send inspectors to Iraq and from what the populus knows, finds nothing. Inspectors aren’t allowed in N. Korea, and there are admited nuclear arms programs. So who, “logically” will we wind up at war with? Iraq. A double standard exists. All for oil, and seemingly nothing else. Why not lessen our dependence on foreign oil by using alternative sources of energy? The technology is there. The oil lobbies are so strong that the government resists this…killing thousands of innocent victims and destroying the environment.
Oddly enough, I’ve never spent new years (or christmas for that matter) with a boyfriend. And I haven’t always been single for them either….strange how that works out. Never in the same city together. E was with family in either Philadelphia or Florida for the holidays. M was stationed in Arizona and couldn’t get leave. L and I had just started seeing each other at the millenium, and I had already made plans to go to Atlanta and visit W. that’s 6 new years, alone while dating. is that why new years is my favorite holiday.
good bye 2002
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