1.29.2004

Better I should know

I've learned that people always have time to come and pick up the $120 that they're borrowing from you, but may be otherwise occupied on the night that you all are supposed to go out for drinks.

1.28.2004

FTW

A few weeks ago, I was feeling pretty worthless and miserable, and all I wanted was for someone to make me feel better. My anger and sadness were eclipsed only by my prodigious temper, so it's no surprise that my parents chose to stay out of my way. Instead of being grateful that they were giving me space and weren't trying to comfort me with meaningless phrases of consolation, I got even more upset, because I felt like they were shirking their parental duties. From the midst of my almost blind rage, a single thought emerged: You may not be able to make me feel better, but you damn well better try.

I wrote it out and stuck it on my mirror. Now, whenever I look in the mirror, I catch sight of that purple index card. I see my face, then I see my temper in 3x5, and know that my reflection is just a little bit more accurate these days.

1.27.2004

That's not reassuring

I got up earlier than usual today (without the aid of my alarm clock), and was pleasantly surprised to realize that I was rather well-rested. I had time to chat a little with my parents before they left the house for work, which is always nice (no, really). I said goodbye to them when they left, so I was a little confused when I heard my father come back in the house about ten minutes later. He said that he'd come back because he realized that he had forgotten his glasses. I was was confused as to how he could forget his glasses and not notice, and he was too, but apparently that's what happened. "Well, at least tell me that Mom was driving," I said.

Nope. He was.

Oh, yeah: my father is blind in one eye, and needs glasses (glass?) for the other. How could he drive around and not notice that he wasn't wearing his glasses?

1.26.2004

Captain Clumsy strikes again

A few weeks ago I closed my finger in the (metal) door at the front of my house. I didn't really feel it at the time, because I'd been walking around in the freezing cold and my hands were way beyond numb. I was so cold at the time it happened, it took a half hour of warmth for me even to begin to feel the pain. When I did, though, it hurt pretty badly. It feels a lot better now, but there's still a reddish-purple spot underneath my fingernail. I thought that was the only reminder of my mishap, but clearly this is not the case. I've got spots, people. Spots.

On the tip of my finger there are four or five dark red spots. I guess they happened at the same time as the accident, but (clearly) I am not terribly observant, because I just noticed them last week. Is this normal? Not to be as clumsy as I am, because I don't think so, but to have specs of blood (I guess) just chilling on the top of your finger for weeks after an accident? Help.

1.22.2004

Shut it, dude

I have a friend who likes to sing along with whatever music happens to be playing wherever he happens to be. This would be fine if he'd just sing normally; I don't expect us all to sound like post-studio-magic Britney, or even pre-studio-magic Christina. That would just be too much to ask. Still, I hate the way he sings. He tries to sound...I don't know, actually. He just tries too hard. It's difficult to enjoy a song when the person next to you is emoting all over the damn place. You're singing a song in your car, not performing Shakespeare. Ease up a bit, would you?

We've all noticed this guy's tendency to oversing, but one person actually mentioned that if she could change anything about him, she'd take away his habit of singing along with the music that he hears. None of the rest of us have ever wanted to make an issue of it, but we all agree. My solution to this problem is to point the iPod to songs that he has for some reason downloaded, but doesn't actually know. It makes the ride a lot more pleasant.

1.21.2004

Bugger

I wanted to go visit my buddies in Virginia, but by the time that I had enough money to buy the plane ticket, the price had gone sky high. $444 to visit Lynchburg? They must be out of their damn minds.

Still, I'm bummed.

1.20.2004

Hot stuff

I wore makeup to work today simply because I left myself more time than I usually do. I can take makeup or leave it, but sometimes it just feels nice to shimmer. Nobody really commented on it until the afternoon, which is when all the younger people (including a guy who keeps asking me out) come in. I like looking good, but I hate it that everyone wants a reason when I do. If I decide to wear a dress or put on some mascara, that doesn't mean that there's necessarily anything going on in my life - or that it's anybody's business if there is. It's like high school all over again, but at least I get paid for my time here.

1.19.2004

Damn

I'm not dating anyone right now because I choose not to settle out of boredom or frustration, but that doesn't mean that I like being alone.

1.15.2004

Devotion

This afternoon's high temperature: 5 degrees.
How long I waited in line to get into TRL: 1 hour and 20 minutes.
How embarrassed I was to go to TRL: Very.
Total time I spent in Jason Mraz's presence: Approximately 10 minutes.
How many times I was expected to holler like a maniac: Too many.

I'm now sick, but it was worth it. Ahhh...the obsession continues.

1.14.2004

Why?

I was just IM-ed by a family friend, who, on behalf of a guy she knows, asked me how long after having sex a girl would have to wait before she could be tested for pregnancy. I gave all the general health class-type of answers, and mentioned that a late period could mean any number of things, including stress, illness, or a change in cycle. When I gave this advice, I was under the impression that the encounter or encounters in question had happened recently, only to find out that this apparently happened before the end of summer. The summer of 2003. My friend then went on to say that the girl in question is kind of dumb. That's an understatement. I questioned whether this person even had the ability to feed herself. I mean, honestly: is it even possible for anyone to be that dumb? Apparently, yes. Yes, it is.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the most depressing part of this story: everyone mentioned, with the obvious exception of myself, is 13 years old. You could not pay me enough to go back to high school.

Vacation?

Yeah, I don't know either.

1.13.2004

Don't miss me too much

Be back in 3 days to a week.

1.12.2004

Or, why you should never lose track of your friends

I just found out that an old friend of mine is currently on the fast track to being fabulously famous. Yay for him. He's a lovely guy, talented as hell, and I'm excited for him. I just wish that we still spoke, you know? Well, whatever. Support my friend Ben.

To sleep, perchance to dream

I have suffered from nightmares for the last two and a half years. Before then, I'd rarely had any nightmares at all, which is, I think, how it's supposed to be. Recently, I've tried to put off going to sleep so that I wouldn't have any more crazy, scary dreams, but that worked about as well as you might imagine. So now I have to find a doctor or something, because I really need to sleep. I'm always tired these days.

Last night was the creepiest one in a long time. The zombies from 28 Days Later were chasing me and my friends at the same time that the dead puppies and kitties from Pet Semetary were coming in to the house through any open windows. I was chased about a zillion times by these things, and by the time I woke up, I had a massive headache and felt completely exhausted.

Oy.

1.09.2004

Just to clear things up

Every time I start to feel excited and optimistic about things, something really crappy comes along and ruins my mood. So, just so that I don't waste my time on any undue optimism: 2004 sucks.

1.08.2004

Awww

My family loves kids. We babysit all the time for pretty much anyone who needs, free of charge, just because we enjoy being around children; they're funny, they're cute, and they just make us happy, despite the fact that they are often snot-nosed and dirty. There's one baby that we've been watching a lot recently, because his mother works evenings. He's a year and a half old and terribly smart; he watches us and imitates things that we'd never think he paid any attention to. He knows how to use the ice maker on the fridge, even though he's a foot too short to do so without help. He knows what television remotes and computer mice are for, and will demonstrate if you let him get close enough. He's speaking now, and he knows the name of a lot of household things. The only problem that he has is that all people, no matter who they may be, are referred to as "Mommy." He'll be speaking to me, my mom, and my dad at the same time, and he'll just call "Mommy" until the person he wants looks over. My brother doesn't appreciate this at all, and tries to get the baby to call everybody by his or her own name.

My brother thinks that the kid isn't able to differentiate between people, but I have another theory: laziness. It's obvious that the kid knows our names, because if my mom refers to me by name, he'll look at me. I don't know about you, but I think that such laziness is pretty impressive at such a young age. Instead of tripping over several names, he just says one, with the same results. Some people waste years before learning to conserve that much energy.

1.07.2004

Take this from my hand, Grasshopper

My older brother is almost six years older than me. Actually, he's five years and nine months older than I am, but I get kind of squicked out when it comes time to do the math, so six years it is. Anyway, growing up, I had an intense love/hate relationship with him, because he was my both my greatest idol and my worst torturer. We didn't really get along until I was old enough 1) to avoid getting the crap beat out of me and 2) to hold my own with him intellectually. Then we started to compete in other, nonviolent ways. I always got better grades, but he was the one who came up with the brilliant schemes that got us what we wanted, usually without our parents being the wiser for it. Currently, as the one of us who has completed college, I am afforded a slight edge in any pursuit that involves intellect (shut it); this isn't my doing, as I don't ever mind being the underdog and doing better than expected, it just seems to be what everyone thinks.

In the past week, my brother and I have both kick my dad's butt at Outburst, and so my father thought it would be good for the two his children to play each other. At first, it started off well, with my brother pretty much killing me. He was getting some pretty awesome categories, but I can admit it: I was just being stupid today. I was missing all of the obvious ones. I deserved to lose. But then I started catching up, and my brother started to get frustrated. He "didn't hear" me when I said answers, and grudgingly gave me credit for things that I had said only when both my father and myself pointed out that I was being shortchanged. And all of the sudden, boys and girls, we had ourselves a real game.

After the third time that my brother's hearing mysteriously failed him and I pointed it out, which was, coincidentally enough, exactly when I caught up to and then overtook him, my brother quit playing the game. He said that he was just sick of playing the game, but I think that he was just afraid that I might win. He hates it when I beat him at chess, cards, video games, and everything else I can think of. I bet he longs for the time when he could beat the crap out of me and just call it a day.

1.06.2004

Whatever you say

Overheard the following conversation today:

Female Coworker 1: I hate when I have to call [Vendor]. The woman who answers the phone is so fucking rude.
Female Coworker 2: You just know that she's from Brooklyn. She's so ghetto when she answers the phone. 'Who dis? What you want?'
Female Coworker 1: Who the hell talks like that? She has no class. She's not a lady.
Female Coworker 2: You're right. She's so unladylike....shit.

I kept waiting for the Irony Fairy to make herself known to them, but they somehow missed her presence in their conversation.

Damn

Rest in peace, Tug.

1.05.2004

Oh well

I spilled half a (little) bottle of baby oil all over one of the rugs in the bathroom.
I tried for three hours to come up with a good opening for my Syracuse essay.
While making my breakfast, I knocked over the jar of cinnamon, and broke the top (although not the glass, thank goodness).
While eating my breakfast, I realized that my taste buds are too pedestrian to really enjoy a year and a half old cheddar.

But I am having a good hair day.

1.02.2004

I've known you for how long?

My father was looking on as I fixed my dinner plate. He said nothing about the rice and beans, stuffing, macaroni and cheese, and spinach as they were being put on the plate. It was only when I covered it all with a napkin, the better to microwave, that he said something: "Where's the meat?" It is just not conceivable to my dad that a person could have a meal during which no meat was consumed. Despite having known and fed me for 22 years, my father somehow managed to miss the fact that I'm not a huge carnivore; I don't hate meat, but I don't eat it all the time, either.

I don't know. I find it sort of cool that you can know someone for that long and still be able to learn things about her.

1.01.2004

Yay

The best part of New Year's Day is the Twilight Zone marathon. Those old shows are so creepy; I love it.