Jonesalicious

Inadvertent High-Fructose Corn Syrup Rant

2009-05-24T14:22:00.003-04:00

It’s been almost five months since I got off the plane in Hamburg. It’s been a kind of fabulous five months.

I am flying to Boston in four sleeps, for my friend Robin’s wedding. I am psyched for the impending wedding throw-down, since I love me a good wedding, and also, I have to admit, I'm kind of nervous about being in the States.

I mean, no, I’m totally excited and happy and all those good things, but I am also a little nervous. I am afraid a tiny part of me won’t like it there anymore. That maybe Germany has its claws in me. That part of me will prefer a lifetime of German bread and cheese.

Seriously, have we talked about this? German bread? Holy crap, that shit is amazing. Dr. Atkins would have rethought his diet, had he lived here for a while. Or, maybe not, considering he surely brought in loads of dough (Ha. I didn’t even mean for that pun. The best kind of pun! Unintentional punage! Not a word, “punage”.) with his BREAD IS THE DEVIL approach.

Anyway, German bread is amazing. But could I ever trade it for my beloved Taco Bell? What is the deal? I fantasize about that shit. But still, all that healthy bread has clearly deprived my body of its American-style ever-present NEED for FAKE FOOD--high-fructose corn syrup (HFCS) and other delicious preservatives and false flavors. I think we underestimate our reliance on this shit. For reals.

I think the HFCS people are up to no good. No good, at all. This deserves a separate entry, but seriously? Wtf?

Oh, nevermind. I guess it’s going to be in this entry, since the likelihood of me blogging in the next month ain’t so great.

I was listening to one of my new favorite podcasts—Stuff You Should Know, by my latest virtual crushes, Josh Clark and Chuck Bryant. The topic of the episode was HFCS and that podcast left me even more suspicious and weirded out about the junk.

Anywhooo…I told a student of mine about America’s use of HFCS and ended up betting him €5 euros that German Coca-Cola contains HFCS. Why wouldn’t it? Coca-Cola is Coca-Cola, right? WRONG. We immediately went to the closest store and he won the stupid bet. Did you even know there are different types of Coca-Cola? The marketing geniuses apparently cater to local flavor preferences and laws. So my question is, WHY is HFCS allowed to be in the American version, if we have A CHOICE about it? WTF?

Money, that’s why. Corn production and farming legislation. HFCS makes you fat! And it is in EVERYTHING. Meat! Bread! Cells throughout your entire body metabolize regular glucose, but your liver solely metabolizes fructose and any excess your liver cannot handle is turned into fat. It was introduced to the market in the 1970s and the rates of obesity and type 2 diabetes immediately began rising.

Anyway. Yes. Listen to that podcast. I’m excited to go home.

The end.

Update

2009-04-08T04:54:00.003-04:00

Well, this is not really an update. I just want to direct your attention here, where I did a guest post for Shawn. Enjoy!

WAAAAAAH!!!!!

2009-03-30T14:08:00.001-04:00

My internet has been down since Thursday morning. It is now Monday evening, and pardon my French, I’m fucking annoyed as shit. Motherfuckers better get their shit together or I am seriously feeling like I might lose my fucking mind.

Anyway. I have been sitting on this blog entry since the 26th. Fuckers.
-----------------------

There’s a lot going on at the moment. Some of these things are as follows:

1. I agreed to make a cake in the shape of the Eiffel Tower for my boss’ girlfriend’s birthday. I honestly do not know why I got myself into this mess. Shit.

2. I am running out of money. I can’t determine where exactly it is all going, but my current hypothesis is that it is all being spent on cappuccino and laugenbrötchen. Tasty, but at my going rate, quite expensive.

3. It looks like I may not qualify for affordable health insurance. It is very complicated and hard to explain, but overall, shitty. This is making me rethink the feasibility of my staying here. More on this later, I suppose.

4. I’ve discovered that teaching is one of the most difficult jobs ever. It is of course (thankfully!) very rewarding, but I’m learning that it is also mentally, emotionally and physically exhausting. I think you should write letters to your favorite teachers thanking them, because they deserve endless praise. Teaching is wicked hard.

5. I love to teach.

6. Dating is a waste of time.

7. I am addicted to Taco Bell. I fantasize about it. I would pay a ridiculous amount of money for a Mexican pizza. I think that shit may be laced. Seriously, are preservatives and additives addictive?

8. I keep opening my garbage can and thinking, when did I eat salami? That shit stinks. I think it is time to take the trash out.

9. I’m tired of having to do everything all the time. I want someone else to take the trash out. Maybe dating isn’t a waste of time.

10. German butter is so good. Americans are being jipped.

--------
And the updates since last week…

1) I am totally freaking my shit out about the Eiffel Tower cake. Have considered completely backing out, but am going to just try it and see how it goes. Pictures will surely follow.

2) I still don’t know what the deal is with my health insurance.

3) I am not ready to be a teacher.

4) Taco Bell sounds amazing, and I’m not even hungry.

5) Oh, I discovered the source of the salami scent. It was, believe it or not, SALAMI! I forgot that I purchased some Ja! Salami Pizza. Shit was cheap und lecker (delicious).

6) Dating is still a waste of time. I think I feel worse about life in general when I date, so I’m giving it up. Less to think about.

7) Teaching is really hard. I don’t know if I can keep this up. I really don’t know.

Anyway, peace out, skillet.

Hamburg

2009-03-13T08:48:00.001-04:00

Things here in Germany are going pretty well. I am teaching a lot, which is pretty cool, and of course, learning more and more German each day.

Some things I like about Germany (well, at least about Hamburg, since that’s all I know so far)…

1. Lots of garbage cans on the streets. This has brought me much unanticipated joy.

2. Escalators have motion-detectors on them, so if no one is using them, they are still. Energy-saving, for sure. Clever, definitely.

3. People say hello and goodbye when exiting and entering elevators. I like this.

4. I went to the doctor (in order to get health insurance, I had to get a check-up) and the doctor’s office and her examination area were all in one room. It was efficient. I like efficiency.

5. The bread. Holy mackerel is that stuff good.

6. The cheese. Delicious and inexpensive, when compared to the States.

7. Trains run all night on the weekends. Do you hear that, Boston????

8. Places I’ve always wanted to visit are only a few hours away! Namely, Berlin, which I will visit this weekend. ☺

On that final note, I have to pack. Have a good weekend!

mj

Ten Tidbits

2009-02-18T13:08:00.002-05:00

AND! She’s back! Okay, so I like my blog and I reserve the right to change my mind, so here I am. I haven’t given up on this thing yet.

Since posting my last entry, I have been trying to figure out why exactly I feel disconnected from my blog, and I guess it is because I feel like people expect me to say something hugely profound or spectacular. As though I am traveling vicariously for everyone I know and there is this weight upon me to say something really momentous and blow (KABOOM!) the minds of my friends and family. It is all in my head, of course, and as a result, I’ve freaked myself out by placing way too much unnecessary pressure on little ol’ me.

So, I hereby give myself permission to talk basics and I bring you ten tidbits.

1. At each of the three grocery stores in closest proximity to my apartment, the eggs are not refrigerated. Therefore, I had a very difficult time finding them the first couple of times. I do not understand this, or rather, why American stores must refrigerate their eggs and the German ones do not. I have yet to Google myself out of this confusion. (Dear Shawn, will you figure this out for me and post it in the comments? Thanks. You rock. Oh, what? You don’t want homework? Don’t lie. You love the Google.)

2. Two of those stores also sell individual eggs. You need one egg? Sure, kein Problem! I like this.

3. Stolpersteine. Once someone points them out to you and you know what they are, you see them pretty often. “This is a difficult topic,” says Captain Obvious.

4. I live very close to the Stadtpark, and it is so cool! I ran the perimeter today (almost—stupid ITB making me want to cut my leg off) and discovered there are no less than 5 drink stands throughout the park where you can get all sorts of liquid refreshments, with or without the booze.

5. Oh, they have pretty huge outdoor concerts there in the summer, I guess. So, the drink stands make a bit more sense in that context.

6. The Planetarium is also there. I have yet to go there, but have thee no fear, go there I will.

7. I have yet to go to several places actually. I have been hibernating when I am not working, trying to save more money than I spend. It is a good time of the year for that sort of behavior.

8. The few Germans I’ve discussed spinach with think it is disgusting when consumed raw. I have seen spinach sold raw at exactly one store. Everywhere else it comes frozen. My standard green smoothie recipe now has a kale base.

9. When you exit the bus or train, you typically have to press a button of some sort to open the door. If no one is exiting or boarding a particular car at a station, the doors of said car do not automatically open. I like this, except if the car smells and could use the ventilation.

10. I have only been on one train car that smelled. From the look and smell of it, someone had spilled an entire beer on the floor. My (ridiculously fantastic) friend Anna says that there are signs (which I have yet to see) that ask you to please not bring smelly things on the train out of courtesy for your fellow passengers. I like this.

Okay, that is good. Perhaps I’ll do a bit of redesigning of this silly blog to liven up the place.

Peace.

No Excuse

2009-02-16T18:51:00.002-05:00

I can't explain the silence. I have no excuse. I am online everyday and I have a lot to say, but I sort of feel like maybe I am done blogging. It just feels like another thing I have to do and I don't really enjoy it anymore. I guess I just I don't feel connected to it.

Anyway, if I am inspired, I will write. For now, I am inexcusably silent.

Peace,
mj

p.s. The cheese here is really good.

Wow.

2009-01-29T18:31:00.000-05:00

Jellyfish will rule the world.

Wacky, Crazy Deutschland

2009-01-29T16:52:00.003-05:00

So I was planning on posting a follow-up to my last post, but I am too scatter-brained to do that. Instead, I'd like to share the following things:

1) I was granted a 6-month visa today with the option to renew. WOOHOO!

2) German governmental agencies confuse the shit out of me, but I have found that a smile goes a long way, even here.

3) Today, I saw a woman comfortably riding a bike in stilettos. You go, girl.

4) Minutes prior, I saw a woman riding a bike with a kid in front of her, and a baby behind her. Wowzers, gadget! All I could think of was how awful it would be if the lot of them crashed. It was kind of neat, regardless.

5) I opened a checking and savings account this afternoon. As part of the process, the bank dude took apart the telephone my employer lent me. He needed the serial number and some identification information from the battery. Weird. That shit is lost in translation.

6) My roommate leaves the windows open all the time, to air the apartment out. It is driving me bat-shit crazy. I understand that it is good to air out the place, but ALL DAY?! In the dead of WINTER? NO, not good. We will be discussing this soon.

Anyway, that's all I got at the moment.

Peace out.

Arrival, Part I

2009-01-17T12:07:00.003-05:00

I have writer’s block. It seems ridiculous to me that I haven’t written one million blog entries since I arrived in Deutschland 8 days ago, but alas, it is true. I have given this silence quite a bit of thought and have decided that there is simply too much to say, so I was sort of opting to say nothing at all. Much easier that way.

In hopes of getting the words rolling and the blogs coming, I am just going to start slow. So here is how it all went down, part one.

After a lot of planning, packing and crying, I left Boston on January 6th and headed to New York for two days. My original flight was cancelled at some point last autumn, so when I went to rebook the ticket, every itinerary was going to route me through New York, but for like, a gazillion dollars. I was like, screw that, I can get to New York for 15 bones on the Fung Wah or Lucky Star, so I figured I’d just do that and save myself some cash. Then, Jet Blue, being the awesome company they are, randomly gave me a $50 flight voucher for some silly reason, and I was like, screw taking the bus to NYC, I’ll just fly! I figured it would be nice to have a couple of days in NYC, still in the States, full of laughter, fabulous friends and good food. I was correct. Plus, it was really nice to spend my last two days NOT packing and running around like a crazy person. I was able to simply enjoy the time and ease on out.

The flight over was peaceful and I slept the majority of it. I have been blessed with the ability to sleep in pretty much any situation, regardless of my comfort level. Truly a gift. It’s like my superpower. That, and my ability to hibernate for hours on end. I’m like Super Sleep Girl or some shit. Slumber Woman.

I landed in Frankfurt on a layover and had to scramble to find my gate and get through customs in time to make my connection. I hit the first ATM I could find, because I was not able to find a water fountain in the terminal to refill my water bottle, and had to purchase a bottle. The Germans seem to think tap water is not exactly fit for consumption, but I’m not quite sure on this yet. They do dig their mineral water, no pun intended.

So yeah, hit the Geldautomat, got me some Euros and wasser and got ready to board my next flight. Flying over the country was beautiful—lots of hills and snow and sunlight, and a whole lot of “Holy crap, that’s Germany!!!” going on in my head.

My AMAZING friend Anna greeted me in Hamburg with a sandwich, some Apfelschorle and lots of sweets. Very kind of her.

The worst part of the entire journey was when I attempted to maneuver one of my gigantic suitcases and my carry-on bag onto the escalator. The carry-on contained my brand-spanking-new laptop and as I got on the escalator, it fell off the large suitcase and literally bounced, BOUNCED, down the entire thing. BOUNCED. I howled in laptop pain, anticipating the worst, but it was and is fine. A miracle.

I calmed down and we hopped on the train, which warrants an entire post, and headed to my apartment so I could shower and see the new place.

I think that is a good start, peeps. More soon.

Hope you are all well,
mj

Quitting My Quit Meter

2008-12-09T20:33:00.004-05:00

As I have mentioned before, I've got a Quit Meter installed on my computer to track my progress with quitting smoking. I'm about to transfer all of my important data off my PC and onto my new MacBook (yippee!), so I'm going to shut down the meter, but I thought I'd give one last update from it.

As of right now, it has been 2 years, 1 week and 6 days since my last cigarette. I've saved approximately $2,933 and I've not smoked 11,173 cigarettes. That's a whole lot of smokes and a lot of time. Every single one takes roughly 5 minutes, right? It's good to be reminded that I've spent all that time otherwise. Wow. Man, that makes me happy.

But I still want one. How fucked up is that?

T Minus 31 Days

2008-12-09T12:17:00.001-05:00

I'll be in Germany in 31 days. 31 DAYS! Holy crap!!!!!

A Decision Is Made

2008-11-13T11:28:00.001-05:00

About a month ago, I decided I was not going to Germany. I was very overwhelmed. The economy seemed to be tanking, my job seemed much too precious to voluntarily abandon, and I got really, really scared—terrified, actually.

I was so deeply freaked out that I started covering my tracks, erasing the evidence that I had even been considering going in the first place. I was petrified that one of my coworkers would somehow stumble upon this blog one day and find out I had been planning on quitting and doing this stupid thing—moving abroad during an economic crisis—and I would have to explain myself. I regretfully erased several blog entries detailing my plans, my fears, and my growing excitement.

The self-censorship really bums me out, since I’ve decided to go for it after all. I am still really scared, but I’ve realized that I can’t control the economy. I can only control my own decisions. This may not be the right time for this adventure in terms of the economic climate, but it is the best time to explore this opportunity in my own personal timeline. And money is just money. You can’t take it with you.

So, I gave my notice at work last week and my coworkers have been incredibly supportive and kind. I never imagined they’d be so excited for me, and I feel hugely relieved to no longer be harboring secrets from them. Not talking about my plans was exhausting and I’m so glad I can be open and honest now.

So yeah, that’s the deal. Wish me luck, intrawebz.

Oh, and Shawn, CORN NUTS. Oh!!!! Also, can I just say how freaking thrilled I am that I don’t have to go to Germany and explain the decision to elect John McCain?

THRILLED.

"Title"

2008-10-10T10:32:00.001-04:00

Enjoy “this” link to this blog. “Ha.”

Flux

2008-10-08T09:52:00.002-04:00

Howdy, folks. Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I’m feeling very, very confused right now. I need to take some time to seriously reevaluate my priorities. Once I get my head on straight, I’ll write more. Or, you’ll just continue to get crappy, nonsensical posts from me.

In the meantime, I think this is a great idea.

Peace.

Oh, and vote Obama!

An Experiment in Blogging

2008-09-11T12:23:00.002-04:00

Shawn, of Eat! Drink! Snack! fame, has informed me that he gets a lot of visitors to his site who are specifically out hunting the interwebs for information about caliente corn nuts.

Now, I don’t know anything about corn nuts. I don’t think I’ve ever even had a nut of the corn variety. So if you’ve arrived here because you are searching for information about corn nuts, you’ve come to wrong place, but welcome! This is my blog! Stay a while. Read some stuff about beautiful frisbee boys, near-death train experiences, or potentially disastrous ideas.

Good luck and god speed, corn nut hunters.

P.S. Shawn, did that get your goat?

It's The End Of The World As We Know It

2008-09-05T14:16:00.002-04:00

And I do not feel fine.

Fake Blog Post in Lieu of Actual Writing

2008-08-28T15:49:00.001-04:00

1. SELF-HARM

This morning at the office, I leaned down to pick up my cardigan which had fallen to the floor, and I rammed my throat into the edge of my desk chair. Ouch. It really hurt. Then, I yanked my head back from the chair and hit it on the wall behind me. That hurt too. A double whammy! Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am!

2. THE NAME GAME

I really like the name “MacLeod”. Something about the look of it makes me happy. And the sound. Very nice.

3. RELATIONSHIPS ARE HARD

Via Crazy Sexy Cancer...

“Did you ever consider that when you change, the people in your life have no choice but to change as well? Human relationships are a dance. When you change your steps, your partner cannot do the old dance. It won’t work.”

4. CUSTOMER SERVICE ODDITIES

I think it is funny that I sometimes feel the need to end conversations with government agents by cheerfully saying something along the lines of “Hopefully I’ll never have to talk to you again! Have a great day!”

5. HOOSIERS UNITE

Axl Rose is from Indiana? For reals?

Oh, Michael Phelps

2008-08-14T09:20:00.002-04:00

How I love thee.

Cravings and Annoyances

2008-08-13T09:33:00.001-04:00

CRAVINGS

I must be suffering from a serious burrito deficiency or something, because I cannot get enough of Boloco’s breakfast burritos! Huevos Rancheros! On a wheat wrap! Yes! With an iced coffee? Of course! Only $3? Are you joking?

Each morning, while I get ready for work, I tell myself, “I will not get a breakfast burrito today. I will not get a breakfast burrito today.” Then I get off the train and head straight to Boloco. It’s like a giant burrito magnet calling me home.

When I lived in Albuquerque, I was introduced to the joy and wonder that is the breakfast burrito, and my breakfast cravings have never been the same. Boston’s restaurant scene pisses me off for a variety of reasons, one of them being the lack of a decent breakfast burrito.

Other things that bother me about Boston’s culinary scene:

1) NOTHING is open after 11:00. Sure, there are a couple of places that offer breakfast at midnight, but they are few and far between. That, coupled with the ridiculous fact that the T shuts down around midnight, lead to a lot of drunken folks with no greasy spoon within walking distance. This makes no sense. None at all. There is a huge market for late-night eateries just waiting to be tapped. Is it some sort of blue law or something? Why can’t we have 24-hour restaurants?

2) Oh, well, I guess that is it.

3) Oh! There are not enough burrito/taco places. If I had my way, there would be a burrito place in every major square and near every single T station. Mmm…burritos.

ANNOYANCES

I dislike when women get their toenails painted in a French manicure style. The tips of their toenails are white, which only makes their toenails look freakishly long. I really, deeply dislike this look.

That is enough bitching for today, I guess. I’ll save my other annoyances for another day. I’m actually in a great mood, believe it or not. I get to see Radiohead tonight!!!! I am so excited. Have a good day!

2008-08-06T09:34:00.004-04:00

When I said the other day that I felt like I was still in the process of quitting smoking, I meant it. Though it has been nearly one year and nine months since my last cigarette, staying smoke-free is an ongoing battle, and lately, I’ve been feeling particularly weak. I think it’s a combination of things, mainly, stress about my stupid plan, coupled with the temptation to sit on a porch in the summer sun and read and smoke the day away.

Occasionally, I’ll think, hmm, I could have a cigarette. Just one won’t do any harm. Just one will be nice. Then I remind myself that one is simultaneously too many and not enough. I was a chain-smoker. A pack a day, for nine years. There is no way I could have just one and be satisfied. Nope. Won’t work.

I saw this article this morning about having just one cigarette, and it definitely hit home with me. I remember my first cigarette. It was wonderful. I coughed, sure, but it felt like coming home. As stated in the article, that first cigarette was truly a “highly rewarding” experience. I loved it and I loved them. That’s why it is so incredibly hard to quit and stay quit. I have so many positive associations with smoking. I miss them.

Argh. My brain is tricking me. Just got to take it one day at a time. It is worth it.

Also, articles like this one piss me off.

Format Question

2008-08-05T13:53:00.002-04:00

I'm annoyed. Do you see that white bar at the bottom of this entry? With the comments link, etc.? I can't make it change color. I don't want it to be white anymore.

Help, internet! Thanks.

Caffeine Is My Friend

2008-08-04T10:57:00.005-04:00

I had a dream last night that me and a certain cute boy were dancing in the streets. Literally. Dancing in the streets. It was lovely.

Drove up to Ogunquit Beach this weekend with my family (man, do I love those babies). It was really nice. The sand was super soft and the water not too cold. I highly recommend this place, though the traffic getting there was kind of annoying.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about my caffeine addiction. It’s not good. Not good at all. I am a slave to caffeine and have been since high school. I usually have a cup of coffee on my way to work, a cup once I arrive, sometimes another before lunch (usually not), and one after lunch. So, three to four cups per day, but in my defense, I do cap my day’s caffeine consumption around 3:30.

About two months ago, with the hope that I might give up coffee for a while, I started drinking green tea for my first beverage of the day and it has been a refreshing change of pace. Green tea is easier on my stomach in the morning and easier to make the night before in my tiny little apartment, also know as The Box (The Box warrants a separate blog entry, I think).

I know my caffeine consumption, specifically my coffee addiction, needs to be curbed, but…well, I don’t wanna and I ain’t gonna. It’s not fair. I quit smoking and I sometimes feel like I’m still in the (very difficult) process of quitting smoking, so I shouldn’t have to quit caffeine too. Damnit. So that’s that. That is how I am going to rationalize taking little to no action to wean myself off this delicious junk. I shouldn’t have to quit two of my favorite vices simultaneously. It just isn’t fair.

One of my coworkers (I would say “superiors” but he is in no way superior to me) just asked whether I mind it when he calls me “sweetheart”. I stood there speechless, trying to figure out how to say, “Well, I probably wouldn’t if you didn’t stare at my chest all the time.” Instead I said nothing. Way to go, me.

Coffee time.

Is This a Joke?

2008-08-01T09:26:00.002-04:00

You have to be kidding me.

Obama better win or all hell is going to break loose.

This Land Is My Land

2008-07-31T10:20:00.003-04:00

Wow, Massachusetts. You continue to amaze me.

10 Years

2008-07-30T23:55:00.005-04:00

Last night I returned from Chicago. From my 10-year high school reunion (by the way, will someone please remind me how to use hypens properly? And quotation marks. Thanks. Seriously, what is the deal with that crap? Why can't I remember that?).

Hi, Nicole. If you are trying to improve your English by this crappy blog, you are in for a major disappointment. You should talk to my friend Allison. Or my sister, GJM (write a blog so I can link to you!). They are both English nerds, and I love them.

Anyway, I went to my reunion and it rocked. Mainly because I decided that I was going to have a good time, regardless of how weird the whole thing was. And so, a good time I had.

Chicago in the summer is beautiful. It's been about 4 or 5 years since I was there when it wasn't the dead of winter. I'd forgotten how many outdoor cafes there are and how nice people in the Midwest are when the sun shines daily. Strangers in the Midwest are always like, 4-5 degrees nicer than strangers on the East Coast. Here, people are afraid that if you look them in the eye, they'll never be rid of you. In the Midwest, people pretend to be your best friend. And quite frankly, contrary to Ani DiFranco, when she says, "can't wait to get back to New York City, where at least when I walk down the street, nobody ever hesitates to tell me exactly what they think of me," I prefer that. I'd rather we at least pretend to be civil.

More when I've had a bit more sleep.

Peace.

I Love My Friends! And Canada!

2008-07-18T09:47:00.001-04:00

I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank Shawn for being an awesome human being and friend. He has this job where he does some stuff that I don’t completely understand, but regardless, one of the (freaking sweet!) perks of said job is that he gets free admission to concerts. And! He gets to take one guest! I am thrilled to report that as his one guest, I will be seeing Radiohead for the first time, for FREE dollars next month! Dag! Way to be nice and stuff, Shawn. Danke sehr!

I’ve never seen Radiohead but have always wanted to. I’ve been a fan for several years now and have heard their live shows are amazing, so I’m wicked psyched.

Also, in less than a week, I’ll be flying home for my 10-year high school reunion. It’s funny. I still call that place “home” when my entire family is here in Massachusetts now. Well, I still have some relatives in the Midwest, but my mom and sisters are here. The Chicago area will always be home though, and Boston will have to settle for being my second home.

My friend Melissa is a spiritual person who loves learning about all things. Period. All things. Anyway, I love her to pieces. She recently read my chart and told me she sees me as having three homes. Chicago, Boston and then one I haven’t found yet. Maybe it will be a city in Deutschland? Only time will tell.

Oh, back to the high school reunion. Man, I am so excited! I can’t wait to see my ladies! We are going to dance the night away. It’ll be good times, I’m sure.

Anywhoooo….I hope you have a great day, wherever you are. And hello to my readers in Canada and Deutschland! Dude, seriously, Canada loves me. I don’t know what it is. I get more hits from Canada than the States. So, here’s to you, Canada! Cheers!

Hilarious

2008-07-10T16:23:00.000-04:00

Read this! Too funny.

Items by Others

2008-07-07T12:52:00.003-04:00

My sister GJM wrote a guest post on her friend’s blog. You can read her words here. She’s smart. And well-spoken. And a fantabulous sister. Feel better, Schwester.

The post, Wedding Photos, by Sarah Hepola makes me happy. I really enjoy her writing. Check her out.

Tootin' My Horn

2008-07-03T09:24:00.001-04:00

When I quit smoking, approximately one year and seven months ago, I was really concerned that I’d gain weight. In all honesty, the potential weight gain had been one of the many excuses I’d employed over the years for continuing to smoke. When I was finally ready to quit the sickorettes, I figured that if I put on few extra pounds, that would not matter, so long as my lungs were repairing themselves. I used to cough a lot. A lot. It was really gross. Man, I do not miss that.

Anyway, I digress. I did gain weight – about ten pounds, to be exact. I chewed a lot of gum and toothpicks to keep myself from snacking mindlessly, but the number on the scale kept climbing. I recently read somewhere that smokers burn an additional 200 calories per day due to an artificial metabolism boost. So when I was still puffing away, my metabolism was deceptively fast. Plus, I smoked a lot more than I ate. I can’t even count the number of evenings I sat on my porch, reading and chain-smoking and then I’d realize I’d missed dinner, so I’d just have another cigarette.

Well, times have changed and I am so happy to report that I am finally, after a year of lots of ultimate frisbee and a lot less beer, back to my pre-quit weight! Woohoo!!! Dang. That feels good.

Oh, and I’ve been meaning to post a link to the quit meter that I so often mention in this blog. You download the program, enter your quit details (date and time of quit, number of cigarettes per day you average, cost of a pack) and each time you start the computer, a little window pops up, telling you how long it has been since you quit, how much money you have saved, how many sickorettes you’ve not smoked and how much life you’ve saved. It’s neat. Check it out.

Happy Thursday, friends! Have a lovely day and a safe 4th of July.

Shut Your Piehole!

2008-06-25T13:50:00.000-04:00

Lately, I don’t know what it is or why, but I keep having these weird random memories pop into my head. It’s happening a lot right now. Much more so than usual. I’ll be walking down the street and suddenly, an image of something totally nonsensical will come to me. Like, the image of a hallway in a school I was in once for a choir contest. My high school choir travelled around Indiana a bit, going to competitions or festivals, and suddenly, out of nowhere, I am picturing the hallway from one of those schools like it happened yesterday. I don’t know why this is happening so frequently to me right now, but I think it might have something to do with studying German again. The memory flashes I’m having all seem to be from times in my life when I was still taking German classes. Maybe using the language has woken up part of my memories that have been just lying dormant, waiting to surprise me. I don’t know. It’s quite odd.

I do know that I was just reminded of a story my sister DJ once told me. Years ago, one of her friends— we’ll call him Bob, since I can’t remember which friend it was— had a foreign exchange student—we’ll call him Rufus, because Rufus is a funny name—staying with his family. Rufus was apparently a total jerk and he annoyed Bob and all of Bob’s friends. Rufus asked Bob to teach him some “cool American slang” and Bob taught him that the phrase “shut your piehole, cover your face” was the hip new thing to say. All the kids were doing it. So poor Rufus would go around, telling people to shut their pieholes and cover their faces, thinking the whole time he was acting like a cool American.

Bob shouldn’t have done that to Rufus, but it still cracks me up. Well, mostly the absurdity of the phrase. Shut your piehole, cover your face! Ha.

Whatcha Want to Know?

2008-06-17T16:40:00.001-04:00

As I mentioned before, I’ve got so much going on in my head right now that I can’t think of things to write about. I am stuck. So, I’ve decided to open this up for questions.

What do you want to know? I’ll answer to the best of my ability. Ask me anything.

Bony Platforms are Sexy

2008-06-13T14:57:00.000-04:00

Tee-hee. I went to see a new dentist today about getting a dental implant. (I’ve been missing a tooth since the seventh grade. My mom and sister are both missing the same tooth. There was a baby tooth, but not a permanent below it.) My dentist was, to my surprise, kind of a hottie. He took a bunch of measurements and x-rays and determined that my bony platform is sturdy enough to support an implant.

Ha! Bony platform! A platform of bone! In my face!

I think I was just feeling kind of silly because he was so pretty and he had this lovely accent, but when he started talking about my bony platform, I just lost it. Complete giggle fit in the dentist’s chair. I had to explain myself it was so ridiculous.

Tee-hee. Can’t wait until the next appointment!

For the Love.

2008-06-10T21:15:00.002-04:00

Dude. It is so hot in Boston. Ugh.

That's all I will say about that.

A Close Encounter

2008-06-02T11:05:00.004-04:00

I had this really fantastic interaction with a gorgeous, sweaty stranger yesterday, all thanks to ultimate frisbee. He was seriously so beautiful. A fine specimen of a man. It was such a weird, intimate moment and I’d like to remember it for all time, so it’s going in the blog.

This weekend I played in frisbee tournaments on both Saturday and Sunday. I played quite a bit on Saturday, but I’m having problems with my hips, so I was only able to play part of one game on Sunday. I spent the rest of the afternoon on the sideline under a canopy, nursing my injured body and cheering on my teammates.

During the third game of the day, a man from another team came over and said there was a guy who was really hot and needed shade. Would it be okay if he laid down under our canopy? Of course! I looked over to where the kid was sitting and he had a towel draped over his head, but as far as I could tell, he seemed to be doing fine. He looked like a young, robust man, so I figured he just needed a break.

A couple men walked him over and he laid down on the grass beside me. One of them had to go notify the tournament director of his status for liability reasons, and the other needed to go find more water. Since I wasn’t playing, I was the only person in the area who wasn’t busy doing something, so I went to his side.

I thought maybe he was overreacting at first because I didn’t realize how messed up he was! He started saying he wasn’t feeling good. He was nauseous and thought he was going to vomit. I passed him my Gatorade and he took a sip, but he wasn’t feeling like he’d be able to keep it down.

One of his teammates returned to help and we elevated his legs and began unlacing his cleats to try to cool him off. He had a really horrible leg spasm and my instinct, thanks to my mom, the massage therapist, was to start rubbing his leg – his beautiful, muscular thigh.

You see where this is going.

His legs and arms were shaking uncontrollably, so I started massaging indiscriminately. I got him a banana and gave him a chunk to eat. He couldn’t raise his head anymore, so I was pouring Gatorade into his mouth, rubbing his arms and legs. He said his neck was hurting, his head was hurting, so then I started massaging his neck. I kept telling him to focus on his breathing and that he was going to be fine.He kept looking up at me with these big, puppy dog eyes, seeking a connection and comfort. He grabbed my hand and was holding onto me like his life depended on it.

He was still burning up, so someone came over with a jug of cold water and started pouring it over his head, his torso and legs. Someone had pulled his jersey up and his chest was now exposed, drenched and trembling. I was massaging his wet, naked gorgeous, 20 year old body. Yes, unfortunately, only 20. The kid can’t even drink legally, but damn, he sure was pretty.

He was taken off the field by paramedics after about 15 minutes. His brother stopped by our tent later to thank us and said they gave him an IV and he is doing fine.

How often does that happen? How often to do you get to massage an amazingly beautiful, wet stranger?

Not often enough, that’s for damn sure. Thank you ultimate frisbee!!!!

Um....Oops.

2008-05-28T10:49:00.002-04:00

Dear Coworker,

Hi there. If you saw the name of this blog open on my computer, and here you are, will you please come talk to me in confidence before discussing this site with any one else from the firm?

I would really, really appreciate it.

Thanks!
MJ

Meme-a-rific

2008-03-13T21:14:00.002-04:00

Howdy. I'm not feeling very chatty right now. Life is fine. Just kind of distracted at the moment.

Abigail tagged me, but I don't have the patience to figure out how to link to older posts, so I am going to modify this game...

The meme's rules:
1. Go through your archives and link to five of your favourite posts that you have written.
· Link one must be a post about family.
· Link two must be a post about friends.
· Link three must be a post about yourself.
· Link four must be a post about something you love.
· Link five can be a post about anything you choose.

2. Tag five other people to do this meme. Two of them must be people you already know so that you can get to know each other better.
---

So, instead, I am going to say something about my:
1) My friends. They are scattered around the country and I am dying to make a giant road trip to touch base with each of them. I feel sort of incomplete having everyone so spread out. I love my friends.

2) My family. They are good people and I'm pretty blessed that I was born into the Jones clan, if I do say so myself. Love them more than anything.

3) Me. I think I'm pretty cool, but rumor has it, I'm kind of a nerd.

4) Something I love. I love ketchup. Best. Condiment. Ever. However, right now, I cannot get enough Cholula. I am drenching my meals in the stuff.

5) Anything I choose. I had a frisbee game last night and it went well. My hip started to get kind of sore afterwards, but it wasn't really a big deal. Then, I woke up today with what felt like a sprained ankle. It was very strange. I didn't hurt myself, and yet, I could barely walk this morning. It's much better now, but my ankle is still pretty sore and wobbly.

That's all I got.

Seven Things

2008-02-10T20:44:00.000-05:00

I've been tagged!!! I feel so honored! Thank you, Abigail!

The rules are as follows:
# Link to the person who tagged you
# Post the rules on your blog.
# Share seven random and/or weird facts about yourself on your blog.
# Tag seven random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
# Leave a comment on their blogs so that they know they have been tagged.

1. I am missing one of my bottom molars. My mom and my sister are both missing the same tooth. I had a baby tooth, but the permanent one never came in. It's an eastern European thing apparently.

2. I usually order the same breakfast at diners: two eggs, over-easy, bacon or sausage, homefries, and wheat toast. I always have to eat the egg whites first, then I dip one slice of bread in one egg yolk. Then the other slice in the other egg. Then I eat the bacon or sausage. Finally, I eat the homefries with gobs and gobs of ketchup.

3. I'll take cheese over chocolate 9 out of 10 times.

4. I was a life-long nail biter until I looked at my fingers under a microscope in high school biology.

5. I have met two of my favorite authors: Anne Rice and Tom Robbins. Both times, I felt like I could die happy.

6. I spent a summer in Italy when I was in high school. While there, I was introduced to fresh apricots. I ate so many that summer that I literally turned orange from too much beta-carotene.

7. I love the Food Network! Bobby Flay is my man!

I'm tagging 2 of my favorite ladies:

Allison
Melissa

Gotta Remind Myself

2008-01-31T21:02:00.001-05:00

As I type these words, it has been one year, two months, four days, twenty-two hours and nine minutes since my final cigarette.

Holy shit. And I want one. I'm not going to lie. It sucks. It's hard and worth every second of misery. I ran and ran and ran yesterday during my ultimate frisbee game and I could breathe. And damn, it felt so good.

I have to continue to remind myself of the harms of smoking, since, like a break-up with an old boyfriend, I've come to only remember the good times. The bad times: the phlegm, the hacking, the money, the stench....the feeling like an outsider. I convinced myself I liked that. I liked being able to escape from the party and hide outside with my thoughts. I liked having the prop.

Now I have a niece who will never even remember that I was a smoker. And that makes me really happy. She will never associate that smell with me and how I feel about her.

Anywho....just checking in.

Peace.

Holy Molars! I Feel So Lucky!!!!!!

2008-01-29T20:10:00.000-05:00

I went this afternoon for my root canal appointment and was ready to shell out approximately $800 on the procedure. When I first found out I needed a root canal, I felt as though I'd been punched in the stomach. My financial situation is always fragile, and I was already feeling pretty overwhelmed, so finding out I'd have to put another huge payment on my credit card totally freaked me out. Not to mention, the second part of the procedure, the crown, was quoted to me to be roughly $1,300. Ugh. Double punch.

So I have been totally bummed out, but had basically come to terms with the money. Then today, I go to the appointment, the dentist does a whole mess of diagnostic tests and discovers that I don't need a root canal after all!!!! The problem wasn't even the tooth my dentist or I thought it was, for crying out loud. My dentist sent me to a specialist to determine whether I needed the root canal, and to do it if so. So yeah, it was a totally different tooth causing me the pain. The specialist filed down a couple of cusps on the problematic molar and ta-da! I'm all better! It's insane.

The best part (aside from the real best part, which is that I didn't have to have my tooth gutted and then the second best part, which is that I don't have to pay for a root canal or a crown), the part that makes me feel like the Universe just smiled (three times) down on me, is that she didn't charge me. She did 7 or 8 x-rays and spent over an hour with me and she didn't charge me. Holy crap, right?! I am so incredibly thankful.

So yeah. I feel very lucky. Thank you, Universe.

Root Canal!

2008-01-28T22:43:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow I am quite possibly getting a root canal and I am soooo not looking forward to it!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEK!!!!!

I've had a molar bugging me off and on for a while now, and I visited the dentist several times over the last month for other issues. She kept telling me there was nothing wrong with the tooth, but I kept insisting it was causing me pain. So finally, she did a more thorough exam and discovered that the tooth is cracked down to the gum line.

Depending on the severity of the crack and whether the tooth is salvageable, I may have to have a root canal. I've unfortunately done too much googling in advance of the appointment and have managed to totally freak myself out about the procedure. I'm usually pretty good with tooth stuff, and I'm sure it'll all work out fine, but I'm kind of nervous!

They gut the tooth! Pull out the pulp!!!! Pulp is a horrible word. Pulp.

Argh. Wish me luck, internet!

I'm Totally Hibernating

2008-01-27T21:28:00.000-05:00

Boston's public transportation is really quite good, but there are certain things about it that aggravate me to no end. My main issue with it is that everything stops running around 1:00. I think the T should at least run until all the bars close, but hey, I don't make the stupid rules.

When I hang out at my favorite Irish pub, like I did Friday night, in order to get home, I have a ten minute walk, 3 trains and a bus ride ahead of me. On a very good night, I can do it in about an hour. Friday night, I boarded the T around...12:50 and finally got home around 2:15. I guess that's not too too bad really. It was interesting though.

See, what happened was, I decided to do the 3 trains and then catch a cab, since I figured that would be quicker than waiting for the bus (the bus runs really infrequently that time of night). My cab driver, however, was driving at approximately 5 miles per hour. So, I asked as nicely as possible, "Um, excuse me, sir, but could you please drive a little bit quicker?" He sort of laughed me off and slowly explained to me that driving faster was not going to get us through this red light any quicker. We kept hitting lights and it kept not making any sense to go faster. I felt like a jerk, so I apologized and explained that it's just that money is tight right now and I'm impatient by nature.

We started talking and the conversation progressed to politics and then to family and life and people and all things deep and inspiring at 2:10 in the morning. His name was Eddie, he was from Haiti and he was sweet. He told me I am "a young woman of solid substance" and that if his daughter had half the sensibility I have, his life would be so much different.

Wow. I really needed that. I have been feeling kind of down lately, so I welcomed his flattery with open arms. It was really nice speaking with him, even if I was in that cab for 45 minutes instead of the 10 I was anticipating.

I slept until I couldn't sleep another moment on Saturday. Finally got out of bed around 1:30. I have a cold and am Captain Snot right now, so after running a couple of quick errands, I holed up in my apartment and watched 8 or 9 hours of television.

Today, I started the day with some laundry, then finished it with some wine and painting. I have never really tried my hand at painting, but I was pleasantly surprised to discover how much I enjoyed spending the evening doing it. That, coupled with the big bowl of dumplings I just had, really made today a good day.

I love being alone and having weekends like this. Where every decision I make is all mine and I can do whatever I want. Sometimes, the idea of having to incorporate someone else's ideas/agendas with mine kind of freaks me out. I almost feel like I've been single for so long that I no longer know how to be in a relationship at all. I'm terrified of having to compromise my freedom.

Is that weird? Am I just making excuses or something?

I don't know. Whatevs.

Feeling Craptastic

2008-01-22T18:40:00.000-05:00

I feel crappy. I guess it's the weather or something, but everything kind of sucks right now. Nothing is really that bad. I'm just dissatisfied and annoyed and tired of dealing.

At times like this, I often resort to making a list of why I'm stressed/angry/on edge. Right now, the list looks like this:

1) I keep putting on weight and have no motivation to do anything to stop it.
2) I am lonely.
3) I feel like I will never be debt-free. The debt keeps growing and I feel like I am drowning in it.
4) I miss my old friends. They are so far away and I don't have the funds to visit them.

I guess that's it. Money, weight, relationships. Shocking.

Ugh. I shouldn't be complaining, but I can't help it. It has been really hard to get out of bed lately. Today, I didn't bother. I guess I'm depressed or something. Whatever.

You know what? I'm going for a walk. Fuck this self-pity. I am tired of feeling this way. Clearly, the lack of exercise isn't helping the situation. Here goes nothing.

Big Day Tomorrow

2007-12-17T22:34:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow is my first annual review at my job (been there since last January). I am going to attempt to negotiate my way to a happier salary, but I have to admit, I'm pretty nervous. I've never done this before, but I figure, what have I got to lose? I have to learn to speak business sometime.

Also, my allergy testing is tomorrow afternoon, so I will hopefully finally be able to figure out--after much poking, I assume--why my eyelids swell up and turn bright red and itchy once every few months. Is it something in red wine? That's the only thing I can figure, but I've had quite a lot of wine that didn't affect me that way, so I don't know.

So yeah, money and health. Big day. Here's to good happy things, like more money and finding out I'm not allergic to red wine. Ugh, that would seriously blow.

By Golly, I Think it is Time

2007-12-13T00:37:00.001-05:00

Time for a show. Time for...the theatre! I am suddenly intensely feeling the urge to do something, anything creative. It's funny because on the other hand, more than anything, I want to eat until I feel I might pop and sleep until I can't possibly sleep another second. I am torn between hibernating and creating.

I can sleep. One of the things I am best at is sleeping. That may sound silly, but consider this. One weekend during my senior year, I fell asleep at 7:00 Friday night and woke up at 5:00 on Saturday afternoon. I slept for almost an entire drive from chicago to southern florida that same year.

I can do this now without much fanfare, but now I'm doing a lot more of the boozing, so it's not quite as impressive.

Anyway, I want things right now. I want to be busy. I want to create things, sleep a lot and eat everything that's not nailed down.

I could also go for a hug.

Peace out, yo.

P.S. Today I have officially NOT spent $1,500 on cigarettes! Woot!

Nicotine Recovery: Day 366

2007-11-27T23:03:00.000-05:00

Yes, that's right. I have officially been quit for 1 year and 1 day and, can I just say, HOLY CRAP! I celebrated by buying myself a car! Sweet reward, eh? Tack it onto the heaping pile of debt. It's all good! I deserve it, damnit! So yeah. I did. I bought a car and it pretty much rocks. I love late night grocery shopping. I had forgotten how satisfying it can be.

Anyway, back to it. One year. What a weird feeling. What an accomplishment. I am so proud of myself. This has been the most difficult thing I have ever done and yet, the battle rages on. I still want a cigarette pretty much everyday, but I no longer come to that conclusion independently. It is always triggered by someone else's smoking, instead of coming from my own instinct. That's a good feeling. A great feeling.

It is getting easier and I am so glad I did this for myself. I remember the first couple of days and the horrible withdrawal and how I felt like as if a monster was trying to crawl out of my chest and attack anyone who looked at me in a funny way. I felt like I was exploding inside and the only thing that would fix it was a cigarette. It was awful. I never, ever want to go through that again.

It has really helped me to think about this process as a recovery from nicotine addiction instead of breaking up with my best friend, which is how it felt much of the time. I went to the doctor right before I quit and she didn't want to talk about my girly issues. Nooooo....she wanted to talk about smoking. She wouldn't stop asking me questions about how much I smoked and then she asked if I could imagine a day without a cigarette and I honestly could not. I then noticed that on her computer screen, under my name, it said "nicotine abuse disorder."

Disorder? Disorderly? Me???? I am an organizational freak and some would argue, a control freak. I saw those words and it really struck a chord with me.

It was the right chord at the right time I think. I am so thankful. So freaking thankful.

Happy day.

You know, sometimes life is weird.

2007-10-31T23:01:00.001-04:00

Weird and awkward and uncomfortable.

Like now. I am feeling very unbalanced. I feel unsure about a lot of things and dissatisfied with most. I get angry easily and my temper is short. I am not prepared to deal, to be patient and listen. I am nervous and suspicious and feeling fat and this is a bad combination.

I feel as though I am constantly on the brink of cutting my hair off and dying what remains purple. Purple scalp. Quitting my job and liquidating my shit and dealing with the consequences later. Taking a long trip and learning German. Piercing something new. It's been a long time since a new piercing.

Getting a tattoo.

I've actually been contemplating the idea of getting a tattoo to represent my committment to myself to remain smoke-free. I hesitate though, because I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I need to maintain some sort of escape from my smoke-free lifestyle. Having to contradict a tattoo would really suck. I think that is part of the addiction, allowing myself the idea that one day, I'll have another cigarette.

It has been 11 months and 5 days since my last sickorette. I know this because I've installed a quitmeter on my desktop, wherein I programmed how much I was smoking, how often, and how much it cost me. So, It's been nearly a year, I've saved....$1,334.72, and I have NOT smoked......5,070 cigarettes.......5,070!!!!!!! Can you believe that? Each one was like 7 minutes! What is that?.....Oh my god.....591.5 hours?.....Oh my god. Are there seriously only 720 hours in a month? I would have spent nearly....25 days of the last 11 months smoking....25 days....How fucked up is that? Holy crapola!!!!!!!

Wow.

What's doubly fucked up is that I still want a cigarette. But you know, I can breathe and run without coughing or wheezing and I don't cough up chunky stuff. Ever. And that is good. Also, I never smell of cigarettes and that is really nice.

Can you tell this post is me trying to convince myself that I'm doing okay and don't need a stupid sickorette? Cuz crap sucks right now and it would be so easy to just have one. Argh!!!! I need a friggin' punching bag in my room or something.

It's time for bed.

Goodnight.

Tacos Are For Lovers

2007-10-03T10:01:00.000-04:00

I haven’t posted in a while and figured since I linked to a couple of blogs today, I’d update. You know, just in case someone stops by to check the place out.

Well, let’s see…..the last time I posted was in July and it sounds like I was pretty miserable. I’m feeling much better these days. I moved to a new city on September 1st in the Boston area, which has been quite an experience. This city, we’ll call it Homeville, is the most diverse city I’ve ever lived in. The streets are filled with Spanish speakers mostly, so I am slowly picking up some new words and phrases.

I studied Spanish for one semester during my final year of college and have always wanted to learn more, so being in such close proximity to so many native speakers is really awesome.

Also, Homeville has some really tasty food. Mmmmm…..tacos. Tacos are my favorite food in the whole wide world. I could eat tacos for every meal. There is a little Salvadoran restaurant near my house and holy tacos are their tacos delicious! Me gusta mucho.

In other news, I am still off of the cigarettes. It has been ten months! Ten months. That is a lot of months, right?! It’s crazy. I think about the last ten months and how hard I have struggled with those evil sickorettes and am so incredibly proud of myself. I haven’t had a single cigarette in ten months. I can’t believe so much time has passed since I had my last one.

It’s weird though. I still want a cigarette pretty much every day. I hear that it takes a couple of years to stop thinking about them all together, and I am hoping that is true (or that it takes less time, naturally), but sometimes I feel like I will always want one. Forever. I hope that’s not the case. It would suck to live life constantly wanting a cigarette, don’t you think?

My birthday is in a week and I’ve decided that instead of celebrating that, I am going to celebrate my one year non-smoking mark, November 26th. I think I will invite my friends to go out to dinner with me. We will eat, drink and be merry and it will be fun. I think a one year mark is much more significant than a silly birthday, don’t you?

Anyhooters…..that’s all for today. Have a nice Wednesday!

Beware the Crazies

2007-07-06T00:14:00.000-04:00

One of my dearest friends performed in an improv troupe and, tonight, instead of taking various forms of public transportation to get to her show, I decided to walk. The walk was longish--I'd say I walked for about 2 hours. A good walk, lined with trees.

I asked a cute boy if there was a shortcut to the street I was looking for. A woman walking past decided I was actually speaking to her and insisted that she was headed right that way.

Great. We're suddenly BFFs.

The first thing she says of any substance: "You know something is wrong when you go to visit your boyfriend in the psych ward and the nurses are more concerned about you than him."

Um.....yeah.

Right.

What you said.

It was a long walk together. I won't rehash the details. I hope her life turns around though. She seemed sweet.

Is That So Wrong?

2007-07-04T23:48:00.001-04:00

I lied to him tonight to see how he'd respond. Evil? I think, maybe not so much.

As it turns out, he doesn't give a shit. I'm not surprised. He's a douchebag. Very selfish. Only thinks about himself.

On another front (one that doesn't make me want to cry), I have a wicked crush. Ugh, it's so.....so.....so exciting and annoying. All at once. I just want to make out with him! Grrrr. I'm so out of practice in the flirting and whatnot that I have no idea what to do. I am terrified of coming on too strongly, so I'm trying to just chill the fuck out.

Crushes sure are fun though. It's been about 5 years since I've had a good crush. I've been wrapped up in this one for 5 friggin' years. 5 years is too many years.

I do love him though. I love him and it's time to let him go. It keeps on sort of sucking though. I'm not exactly sure it won't continue sucking forever. Like with one of my old loves. Sometimes I think about him and wish I could hug him and turn back time and make things right again. Sometimes that still sucks, but I deal. You get used to it and it hurts less.

Just have to deal, I guess.

Ah, Crap.

2007-07-03T21:43:00.000-04:00

I revealed my secret blog and I can't find a way to edit, undo.

Yes, I have a blog. Yes, it was supposed to be a secret. Yes, I've posted some stuff on here that I didn't want to share.

Oops.

Edit, Undo!!!!!!!! Damn it all to hell. Welcome to my "ninja" blog, which isn't so ninja afterall.

Time to Love Myself

2007-06-12T21:23:00.001-04:00

Well, I just returned last night from a trip to California to visit the boy. I'm a jerk. I shouldn't have gone. I don't know why I keep putting myself through this garbage. Everytime I see him, I end up feeling like an obsessed lunatic.

I wrote the following while drunk in a club in San Francisco, after I tried to kiss him and he pushed me away:

I feel badly because he makes me feel badly. Not because I feel that way independently. I feel inadequate. He never validates me. I try so hard, I make myself sick. Everyone but me sees the truth. He doesn't care.

Pretty pathetic, eh? I tried to kiss him and he pushed me away. He later explained that he needed some space.

Space? And I'm surprised? F-ing noncommittal asshole, that's what he is.

I am a good person. With a good heart. I am worth more than this. I deserve a good man. Someone who will look at me and run his fingers through my hair because he wants to touch me. Someone who will make sacrifices and plans. Someone who isn't him.

He was my person at one time, but I guess maybe I've changed. I can't do this anymore. It's been too long and too hard. I'm tired of hurting. Tired of being alone when I feel like my other half is out there, digging in the fucking dirt somewhere instead of sleeping next to me.

Fuck him.

I Resolve

2006-12-28T17:03:00.001-05:00

I’m making resolutions this year. True resolutions. I’ve never really made a resolution before now because I knew that if I were to make one, I would have to pick quitting smoking. So, in order to keep smoking, I decided to just not make any resolutions whatsoever. It was easier that way. It was cowardly.

So this year, since I’ve already quit smoking (last Sunday was one month!), I am making some serious changes. I have three that I have narrowed it down to, but the list is actually a bit longer than that. Here we go.

1.) I will create and effectively implement a budget.
2.) I will have my credit card balance paid in full by December 28, 2007.
3.) I will be able to run continuously for ten consecutive minutes by June 1, 2007.

Other things I will try to accomplish this year are:

4.) I will start volunteering somewhere.
5.) I will really learn to use my camera.
6.) I will open and regularly fund a savings account.

There you go. I know the list is intense, but I think I can do these things. If I do nothing else, I will stay quit from the sickorettes and I will pay off my credit card.
The end.

Nicotine Recovery, Day #4

2006-11-30T16:41:00.000-05:00

I’m feeling pretty good today. My throat just now started aggravating me at 4:40 p.m., so that’s interesting.

I cried my eyes out last night. Like a baby. More on that later.

I’m hanging in there.

Last Night's Dream

2006-11-29T16:52:00.000-05:00

The entire dream is a blur, except a part where I was coughing and coughing and I started to hack up blue and black bits. Then blue liquid. My lungs were being flushed clean but it was a brutal experience.

Nicotine Recovery, Day #3

2006-11-29T16:33:00.000-05:00

Wow. Day three already! I continue to impress myself.

So, how do I feel? Well, I am wicked antsy. Restless. Hungry. Irritable. I think those are all normal feelings to be having at this point in the recovery process though, so I’m not alarmed.

I am also incredibly proud of myself. I didn’t know I could do this. I mean, I knew, deep down, but I thought I was weak. That quitting would be the most awful thing I’d ever been through and it simply is not.

Last night, I picked up flavored toothpicks from the health food store and sucked on them until I got home. Immensely helpful. The walk was so much easier than the day before. I also had grocery bags with me, so my hands were full and busy, which also seemed to help.

Until last night, I was still carrying around my lighter and a pack of cigarettes with 7-8 left. I kept thinking that I would give them to the next smoker I saw. I didn’t want them to go to waste. But then I realized that no one should have them and I don’t want to contribute to anyone else’s habit anymore. I was an enabler for many of my friends for a long while and I will no longer be that person.

I’m not sure who I will be. I have vast amounts of free time now. I never realized just how much time smoking took up. Last night I rearranged my bookshelves, finally went through the box of papers I’ve been meaning to address, sorted my change to prepare for rolling pennies, and made dinner. On a Tuesday. Wow. What a concept.

The one thing that really upset me yesterday was that CM wasn’t supportive or encouraging when I told him I’d gone two days. He of all people should appreciate my efforts. I waited for his response and he basically came back with, “That’s good. You know, I don’t understand how it’s so hard. It’s like, when I smoked (for approximately 6 months or something—not NINE years), I just stopped. It’s all mental.” No “that’s awesome!” or “good job” or “I’m so proud of you!” He just manipulated the conversation so it was all about him again. Fucking jerk.

Anyway. I plan on talking to him tonight about how he hurt my feelings. We’ll see how he responds.

So yeah, three days. I just gotta keep on keepin’ on.

Nicotine Recovery, Day #2

2006-11-28T15:49:00.000-05:00

It is the second day on my road to recovery. Today is a bit more difficult than yesterday, in that I want to eat non-stop and am super fidgety. I am taking Welbutrin to help me through this process and today was the first day I took the full dosage, so I think that is contributing to my jumpiness. I was taking one per day and am now up to two.

Last night was not a huge challenge, surprisingly. I went to the gym, busted my ass, and then headed home. I have to say, the walk home from the gym was the hardest part of my day. I wanted a cigarette so badly that I ended up buying a bag of salt & vinegar chips and munching them the whole way home. Once I was home I was fine. I managed to make dinner and chill out in front of the television for the rest of the evening.

I had trouble falling asleep last night, but once I did, I slept like a baby. My cough this morning felt different than usual. Less movement and harsher. Sudden and unexpected. I’ve been wheezing off and on since last night. My lungs are pissed.

I think the most surprising thing about this process is that it doesn’t feel all that difficult. I thought this would be the hardest thing I have ever done, but it’s not. I can totally do this. I’m not out of my mind with withdrawal symptoms. The world did not come crashing down around me.

I still have a few cigarettes which I plan on giving away tonight. I don’t need them anymore. I can do this.

Nicotine Recovery, Day #1

2006-11-27T17:31:00.000-05:00

I had my final cigarette last night at approximately 11:00. It tasted vile after reading so much information about the chemicals in cigarettes. I kept thinking, “This is it. This is the last one.” Part of my brain was saying, “You know this isn’t the last one. Don’t be so dramatic.”

It is now 5:15 p.m., the next day. I am roughly 18 hours in---18 hours into my recovery from my nicotine addiction. In six hours I will have gone a whole 24 hours without a cigarette---the longest I’ve ever made it. After 72 hours, the nicotine will have left my system entirely for the first time in 9 years. 9 years. Oh dear god. How did this happen?

I tried quitting once before. Once. I was smoke-free for less than 15 hours. I originally set my Quit Date for November 29th, but decided to give it a go today, since I so effectively grossed myself out last night reading about the alarming facts and consequences of cigarette use.

I can do this. I feel fine. A bit jittery, sure, but all in all, I feel fine. My cough is starting to get pretty nasty, but I expected that. It’s usually nasty so I’m unfortunately used to it. I’m a bit antsy so I am heading to the gym after work to work off some of my pent-up energy. I’m hungrier than usual, so I picked up some sugarless gum and hard candies to keep my mouth busy.

I kept smelling my hands today and loving the fact that they smell of soap. And vanilla. They smell nice for the first time in so long.

I got on the train today without using my breath spray or my anti-bacterial hand lotion to mask the smell of the cigarette I would have typically smoked during my walk to the station. It felt freaking fantastic. I’m a non-smoker.

One of Those Moods

2006-10-26T20:37:00.001-04:00

My sister asked me how I was doing today. My response: "I'm fine. Sort of in one of those "fuck you, motherfucker" moods, but other than that, I'm good."

It has just been one of those days. I don't know exactly why I wake up sometimes feeling like I could kill someone. It just seems to happen occasionally. And not necessarily at times when I'm particularly ... anything. There isn't a pattern to these emotions. At least not that I've noticed.

Perhaps I just need to start documenting my every thought and feeling and entering the dates and emotions into a chart. Perhaps then I'll notice a pattern and be able to tell my friends, "You are going to want to avoid me on the 14th, the 21st, and the 25th of next month." That would be helpful.

A new cafe opened near my house, and I happen to be there at this very moment. Here. The television is blaring a language I don't understand. I don't even know which language this is. I'm having jasmine tea and a "savory crepe" filled with all kinds of delicious goodness: feta, tomatoes, greens, roasted red peppers. Free wireless internet. This place is the bomb-diggs. There are five people in the building. It is quiet and the light is a reddish, mysterious hue. There are comfy couches and big tables. I like this place.

How's This For Your Sign

2006-10-23T11:35:00.000-04:00

We finally talked last night. I asked what his plans are after he finishes working out East. He’s going back West to tie up some loose ends and then he doesn’t know where he’ll be headed from there. He is waiting for a sign telling him where he is supposed to be. A stupid sign.

I told him this has been really hard on me. Having him here. Seeing him. I told him I love him. He told me he loves me too. He hadn’t thought about things from my point of view. I asked how he would feel if I were dating someone else. He was obviously quite upset by this idea and asked whether I am. I’m not. I sort of lied and told him I had been seeing someone. Not entirely true, but not entirely false either. He didn’t like this. Not one bit. I told him I won’t date anyone else.

He said that he was surprised that our connection is still so strong after so long apart. It’s like we never missed a beat. He said it is so easy for us to be together. He said I need you right now in my life. I need you. I love you. I’m not sure where this is going though. I need time. I need to talk face to face.

It’s always about what he needs, isn’t it? Screw that. I need some freakin’ answers, that’s what I need. Damn it. It shouldn’t be this hard. He should want to be with me enough that he doesn’t need some stupid sign, he just needs me. I should be enough, but I’m not.

I'm not going to stop looking for my person. I'm not waiting for him.

Mental/Spatial Reorganization

2006-10-22T17:27:00.000-04:00

I rearranged my bedroom today. It's such a great feeling once it's completed. I've essetially inventoried most of what I own and know where everything is. The dust balls are gone. The floor is clean. It looks enormous. So much space. So much floor.

I love it.

I think that the process of rearranging the bedroom facilitates a mental cleanse as well. In college, if my room was a mess, I wouldn't be able to write. Homework came second to a tidy workspace. I'm hoping I will be able to think more clearly now.

I'm sort of in the middle of an emotional disaster waiting to happen. My ex-boyfriend has made a sudden and jolting reappearance in my life. He visited me three weekends in a row, this being the first he hasn't made the trip since it began.

He was planning on visiting in September and I told him I didn't think it would be a good idea for me. I told him I still loved him and that it would be too hard for me. He would have a great time and I would too, but in the end, I'd be miserable and he'd be fine.

I cancelled the visit. And then received a call during a night of drunken debauchery. He's going to be working nearby, he said, and I said, why don't you swing by my house on your way. I was drunk. The next day, the next two days, I didn't even recall the conversation. He called on a Tuesday and told me he figured he would get in around 11:00 on Friday. What? I didn't even remember he was coming here. What was I supposed to do? I invited him!

So he came and it was great. It was really nice, actually. Of course it was! I'm so stupid sometimes. It was great. He came the next weekend and the next.

Argh. I don't know what to feel. I want him to want this. To want me. I want him to move here and be with me. But then I don't.

I like being alone. I like having my time all to myself. Having no one to answer to. No duties to another person. I like waking up and thinking, what do I want to do today? Or, what do I have to do today? Not, what do you want for breakfast? Because, of course, I can't do anything until I know he has been taken care of.

I guess that is the mother in me----lying in wait. I was designed to nurture.

Argh. Not sure what happens next.

She of All The Blogging

2006-10-19T11:53:00.000-04:00

So, I’m officially a “blogger” now. One who blogs. She of all the blogging. I also have a myspace page with a mini blog, so yesterday I copied all of the material I had written from there and pasted it into Blogspot. As you will notice, as a result, there are multiple entries for October 18th, dating as far back as October of 2005. But, now, dear readers, I am in real time. And isn’t it exciting?

I have to admit, I’m deeply torn between announcing to all of my friends and family that I have created a blog and keeping it completely private and confidential so I can write without fear of who may be reading what. It would be nice either way, really. Nice to be able to write anything without worrying if I may offend or upset someone. A nice outlet for my deepest, darkest thoughts and feelings. I need that.

On the other hand (and boy is it a big hand) I’m a sucker for attention and comments. I want the people I love to read my entries and give me feedback. But I feel like opening it up to them will bring a whole mess of consequences with which I’m not sure I’m prepared to deal.

I guess, for the time being, I will keep my mouth shut. The biggest difficulty I foresee will be my own capacity for secret keeping. I mean, I can keep important secrets. But little, trivial secrets? Like what I bought my sister for Christmas or he likes her and she likes him and neither of them know it? I am notorious for revealing those types of secrets.

I also don’t enjoy surprises if I know there will be a surprise. I can’t stand the anticipation. I get anxious and impatient and feel all weird and antsy inside. If I am surprised without knowing to expect a surprise, however, that, that I can deal with. I even enjoy that. But it is knowing something surprising will be happening in the near future that I find really aggravating. I’m all, “When? Now? What about now?” It’s annoying. So annoying that I annoy myself. I drive myself crazy with the not knowing.

So yeah, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep this blog a secret, but I am going to do my damnedest trying. I love the idea of having something that is all mine. Mine alone. Mine. All mine!!!! Wuah-ha-ha-ha-ha……

Etiquette Schmetiquette

2006-10-18T15:52:00.000-04:00

Last Saturday I had the pleasure/duty of attending a work-related, fancy-schmancy gala. My date, C.M., donned his finest party apparel and I curled my hair for the first time in several years, threw on some eyeliner and a dress, and even wore pantyhose. I didn't however, shave my legs, because I simply don't give a rat's ass. Plus, I figured the pantyhose would conceal my evil, evil leg hair. I like getting dressed up, but a girl has to have her limits.

The night went off without a hitch. The decorations were lovely, the drinks were yummy, and the food was delicious. Women and men paraded throughout the rooms, surveying the silent auction items and making their bids, eating hors d'oeuvres, and sipping wine and cocktails. C.M. and I played the part as best we could, before sneaking away to talk trash about our fellow partygoers.

I don't fit in at these events. C.M. definitely does not either. I mean, we can hold our own, sure, but it's just not natural for us. I'm in my element in comfy pants with a coffee mug of wine, chilling on my porch watching the sunset. C.M. is in his element in a pair of Dickies and a t-shirt, with a cup of jasmine tea and three computer monitors before him. I'm pretty content within my element, and though I can function well at these upscale events, I don't enjoy doing so. It feels false, fake, like a sham---and that's because it is.

Anyway.

So, C.M. and I were seated at our table, surrounded by my coworkers and their significant others. After the salad, the dinner arrived looking spectacular. My coworker, she of the incessant neck gazing (seriously, stop looking at my neck!), was in the bathroom when dinner was being served, so she didn't get a plate because the servers thought the seat was vacant. Everyone else at the table had their food and C.M. and I started to chow down. She arrived back at the table to find that she hadn't received any food. We continued to eat, and by "we" I mean, C.M. and I.

To my horror, I realized halfway into my chicken that no one else at the table had started eating. No one.

I realized with an internal gasp, we are those people. The people who don't wait. Who aren't polite. Who are low class.

I realized what was happening, but of course, C.M. was only thinking one thing: "CHICKEN. Mmmmm….." I flagged down a server and asked for a meal for neck-gazer, and oh, I forgot to mention, she's a vegetarian. "Can you bring her the vegetarian option?" I asked. "Um….yes…..hold on please."

The poor guy came back to tell her it would be a few minutes, as they didn't have a meatless entree prepared. And still, no one was eating. I was torn between being polite and fitting in with these people I can't stand, or sticking by my date and chowing down. I decided that I am glad I'm like him and not like them and continued to stuff my face.

Eventually, neck-gazer noticed everyone was waiting for her and released them of their stupid polite obligation. I felt like saying, "Your food is cold and mine wasn't. Nah-nah-nah-boo-boo."

I think I'll stick to my element. It's nicer there and the food isn't cold.

Ramblings

2006-10-18T15:51:00.000-04:00

Last night, for a few hours, I was convinced it was Tuesday. Not sure how this happened. Then Wife Swap came on and I was all, "Oh. It's freakin' Monday. Oops." I mean, I knew it was Monday all day and then suddenly, around 4:00, my brain did a flip-flop.

I dreamt about worms last night. Friendly creepy crawlies all over the floor. I released them from a satchel and they rapidly dispersed and multiplied. The floor was suddenly covered in squirmy worms and I was trying to walk the length of the hallway without squashing any. I tiptoed amongst and between them and then squirted a big pile of ketchup in the corner. One of the worms was unlucky enough to be headed right into the ketchup. He absorbed it and turned into a wormy, ketchupy blob. The other worms had all converged in the center of the hallway and formed a giant wormpile. I picked the ketchupy worm up with a stick and placed him on top of the pile with all of his friends.

I like worms, so the dream didn't perturb me as much as one might expect. It was a bit odd though, and as much as I'd like to say, "Oh, this means blah, blah, blah," I don't really believe it meant anything. I think it was just a random firing of neurons that evolved into a ketchupy wormpile. Definitely a bit odd though.

My Best Interests?

2006-10-18T15:50:00.000-04:00

As you all know, I've been a bit, shall we say, dissatisfied with my current job as of late. I decided to rant as much as I needed on myspace and then move on and be proactive. I applied for a boatload of jobs last week and submitted my resume to two staffing agencies. My mom also managed to get me connected with a very nice woman in a very high-profile firm (yeah, mom!). I spoke with her, explained my situation, and somehow landed an interview with her firm for this afternoon. Sweet.

This morning I also met with this guy Jake from B.H. Staffing, who seemed, at the conclusion of our meeting, like he was my new BFF. I thought while leaving, "Jake knows what's best. Jake has my back. I feel better now."

Well, as it turns out, Jake is a backstabbing son of a bitch.

He asked me during our session whether I'd independently applied to any firms and I informed him that, yes, in fact, I had an interview lined up for this afternoon. He asked some details and I gladly provided them, not knowing he would turn around and use them to stick a knife into my spine.

I get to my interview this afternoon, all jazzed up in my new suit jacket and heels (god, I'm such a freakin' yuppie), and sit down in the conference room to await the attorney who will be interviewing me. My mom's friend comes in to meet with me briefly in the meantime.

GET THIS. She asked me if I am working with a staffing agency as well and I said yes. "B.H. Staffing?" "Yes." Then she proceeds to tell me that I need to be more careful with how much information I give out because that bitch ass motherfucking Jake called her after I left his office this morning.

He called and asked her, "Wouldn't you be more comfortable hiring someone with more experience for the position?" Maybe I can help you find someone more suited blah, blah, blah.

WHAT?!?!?!?! You've got to be kidding me! Who the hell is this punk working for? Because clearly, he isn't working for me. He's working for his own selfish self and doesn't give a crap that he may have jeopardized something that could be really awesome for me.

So, I called that jerkface jerk Jake (Jake the Jerkface Jerk, hereafter, JJJ) and we had the following conversation:

(phone ringing)

JJJ: This is Jake.

MJ: Hi Jake, this is MJ. We met earlier today.

JJJ: Hi MJ. What's up?

MJ: I just had my interview with X & X, and it went really well.

JJJ: That's great.

MJ: Yeah, except, the woman I met with told me you called her this morning and asked her if she wouldn't be more comfortable with someone who is more qualified for the position.

JJJ: (silence)

MJ: So, I won't be working with you any longer. Thank you for meeting with me today.

JJJ: I'm sorry about that, MJ, but I was just looking out for your best interests.

MJ: Take care, Jake.

JJJ: Bye.

I think I handled that with grace and dignity, considering what I wanted to do. I wanted to storm over there and kick him in the nuts. That's what I wanted to do. Bitch-ass-punk-face-stupid-prick. My best interests? I think it'd be in my best interests to go over there and put the smack down on his bitch ass.

Anywhoooo….my interview went really fantastically well, despite his deliberate attempt to sabotage it. We shall see what comes of it. Keep your phalanges crossed!

One Step Forward, One Step Back

2006-10-18T15:49:00.000-04:00

This blog will be a bit Boston-centric, so bear with me....

Let's talk about the MBTA. Yesterday, GP asked me if I saw the new seats on the redline. I had not. I did today, however. They have reupholstered the seats with cloth. Cloth.
CLOTH.

What in the name of all that is holy were they thinking?????? Those seats are going to be filthy, stained, disgusting, mildewed, nasty ass holders in no time whatsoever. Why in the name of god would they do such a thing?

Why not plastic? Cheap fake leather even? Anything other than absorbent cloth. Yuck.
I consider that a step in the wrong damn direction.

At the same time they unveil these new seat coverings, they FINALLY install those hanging thingamajigees so the short people can reach the top bar. The plastic strappy things. Why in the world did it take them so long to do this? I cannot even count the number of times I've been stuck in an awkward spot on the train without something to hold on to.

I consider this a step in the right direction.

It is always one step forward with one step back with the MBTA. God love 'em.

Ubuntu

2006-10-18T15:48:00.000-04:00

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/5388182.stm

The word comes from the Bantu languages spoken in southern Africa - and is related to a Zulu concept - "umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu" - which means that a person is only a person through their relationship to others.

My Friends Rock

2006-10-18T15:46:00.000-04:00

Thank you everyone. You have all been really supportive during these crazy times. I truly appreciate it. I couldn't ask for nicer, kinder friends.

My friends rock.

And for the record, I am much, much better today. I talked through my issues with my ladies (special shout out to SY, GP, SF, and my sisters) and I've figured out what I need to do to make my life better. So, I'm going to do it and that is that.

Peace the spork out.

Happy Wednesday, Bitches!

2006-10-18T15:45:00.000-04:00

I've been a bit "aggravated" lately, according to my last two blogs, so thought I'd provide an update for all of you kind, concerned friends. I'm fine. Not aggravated today. Sort of chipper, actually. This week has been pretty decent so far, and I feel again as though I'm on the brink of something exciting and meaningful. That makes me happy.

So, in honor of the refreshing, bouncy mood, I thought I'd share a list.

**************Things That Make Me Go "Hmmmm…"**************

1. Other people's sudoku puzzles. I am "that girl" who stands and peeks over your shoulder at your game. I'm sorry, fellow sudoku-playing commuters. I'll try harder to respect your personal space next time.

2. This sore throat I'm getting. I'm not thrilled, but I am saying "hmmm…"

3. An upcoming visit from an ex-boyfriend who once broke my heart into a million little pieces.

4. The accidental misplacement of my brand-spanking-new red hoodie.

5. Friend requests from someone who used to really, deeply dislike me (or so I thought).

6. Those years of high school when I thought that someone hated me.

7. C & C Music Factory (ha).

8. Gael García Bernal. ¡Me gusta!

Lists are fun. I'm in a good mood today. Are you?

Also, did anyone else see that new show Heroes on Monday? What'd you think?

Stupid Dowtown Crossing

2006-10-18T15:44:00.000-04:00

Stupid Downtown Crossing. I hate this stupid place. Unfortunately, I have to come to this hellmouth five days a friggin' week.

Today, I went to CVS and as I was standing at the register, I started to smell smoke. No one said anything, naturally, but it smelled like the shit was burning down. Something was on fire!

I went outside and sure enough, the ashtray attached to the building was on fire. Some asshat threw a lit cigarette into a pile of old butts and other miscellaneous items and walked away, leaving the container to catch fire. It was pouring out the most heinous, repulsive-smelling, noxious smoke. I dumped my nalgene into it and put out the fire.

Stupid Downtown Crossing.

Then, as I was walking down the busy sidewalk, a UPS truck decides he is going to try to cross the paths of about 30 pedestrians instead of waiting until the horde passed. An older man was taking his sweet time getting out of the UPS truck's way and the driver hollered at him, "Move your ass! I'll run you over!"

I mean, was that really necessary? Really? No. It was not. I know those drivers are in a hurry and whatnot, but please, that was uncalled for.

This stupid area of the city turns people into blubbering, foul-mouthed, ignorant, disrespectful assholes. Stupid Dirty Crossing. That's all. I feel much better now.

Refrigerator Disaster 2006

2006-10-18T15:43:00.000-04:00

Life is funny. Freakin' hysterical.

Just when you think, "Ah, I've got my shit together: the bills are paid, the bedroom is tidy, the cabinets are full of yummy treats, the drama is non-existent," the universe throws you for a loop.

I came home yesterday, after a long day at work and the gym, to find myself embroiled in Refrigerator Disaster 2006 (knock on freakin' wood). My roommate, the lovely GP, says to me, "I don't think the refrigerator is working....properly." I didn't believe her at first, and went to investigate.

The refrigerator, hereafter known as "Evil Machine," was making a clicking noise, and then surging with power, which would noticeably dim the kitchen lights....every 45 seconds. Also, as GP had astutely pointed out, it wasn't quite as cool as it ought to be.

I adjusted the temperature settings of the Evil Machine, hereafter known as "E.M.," and decided to give it about 40 minutes before I made my conclusions.

Forty-five minutes later, we checked again and E.M. was just warmer than before, and the stupid lights were still flickering. We called the landlord. He proceeds to tell me that I have to call the repair men, and if they can't fix it, then I have to go out and buy a new E.M. I don't know shit about purchasing heavy-duty appliances, and I don't want to know right now. That is why I RENT, damnit. Anyway....

That conversation happened...blah, blah, blah. Regardless of all that, GP and I have to save our food (naturally, third roommate is in another state or some shit). So we start frantically calling all of our neighborhood friends in search of coolers (thank you, SF!). I called JD, the bartender at the local Irish pub, asked if we might be able to store our freezer goods at the bar. Since JD loves us, luckily, we were able to do so. We packed up a big-ass trash bag with our frozen food and hauled it to the bar, to store in their reliable freezer. So ridiculously funny. It really freakin' helps to know people. And to be nice to those you know.

My TV dinners are at the bar. Huh-huh-huh-huh.....

The repair dude came today and managed to fix things, at least temporarily. We have to wait for several hours to make sure the fix endures. I sure learned a whole lot about refrigerators, let me tell you!

I think the repairman (I feel terrible that I didn't learn his name) was sort of excited to have a little woman with nice breasts asking him a lot of questions. It was fun....ish.

Yeah, Refrigerator Disaster 2006!!!

Books Are Cool

2006-10-18T15:40:00.000-04:00

I'm currently reading The Pilots Wife, by Anita Shreve. I've read a few of her other books, and they definitely cannot hold a candle to this one---where did that come from? "Hold a candle?" Huh. The first person who can explain the origin of the aforementioned phrase will earn 5 Cool Points.

You know how when you're little, you don't really, truly understand what is happening? Like, for instance, a family member dies, and you are too young to really comprehend what has happened? Yeah, like that. You go through your life, trying to explain to others what went down, and as the years pass, you realize you've got the story all wrong?

Well, Ms. Shreve does a brilliant job of verbalizing this:
______________________________________________________
"The more Kathryn learned about Jack--and she had no doubt now that she would learn more...--the more she would have to rethink the past. As if having to tell a story over and over, each time a little differently because a fact had changed, a detail had altered. And if enough details were altered, or the facts were important enough, perhaps the story veered in a direction very different from its first telling."
_________________________________________________________

Books affect me and I hope they do the same for you, dear readers. Go forth and read. READ I tell you! Read!

Is Nothing Sacred?

2006-10-18T15:38:00.001-04:00

For the last several months, I've been diligently bringing my lunch from home so as to avoid spending ridiculous sums of money in Downtown Crossing (a.k.a. "Dirty Crossing") on low-quality, crappy food. It's not always easy or convenient to lug my backpack into the office when it's filled with a giant vat of yogurt, bananas, apples, English muffins, oatmeal, cans of soup, etc., but I do it anyway. I make the effort to bring in nutritious, delicious snacks for a reason: SO I CAN EAT THEM. ME. ONLY ME.

So I'm sitting at my desk this morning and I hear my boss in the kitchen, asking, "Whose fruit is this?" I'm thinking, oh, fantastic, she wants a banana. That's fine. Eat my bananas. Whatever. Jerk.

NO. She doesn't want my banana. She wants to decorate the foyer with my lunch. DECORATE. She skillfully arranged all of MY fruit on a stupid little platter and set it in the foyer. For everyone to admire and consume.

I chuckled and said, "If people eat my fruit, I'm going to be angry." She said, "Feel free to eat it."

Feel free to eat it? My fruit? Feel free to eat my own fruit? That I bought? Huh. Well, I sure will. Thanks for the advice.

Dear Nice Man, Your Girlfriend Sucks

2006-10-18T15:37:00.000-04:00

Why is it that nice guys date such major bitches? Do nice men actually enjoy being treated like garbage? What the hell?

Case in point:

So, I busted my ass last night at the gym after a long day at work. By the time I got home, I was ravenously hungry, ready to chew my own arm off. I decided I'd head down to my local watering hole for a nice, juicy cheeseburger. Mmmm....cheeseburger.

Now, usually, this bar is fairly quiet on weeknights, so I'm guaranteed to get a seat. Not last night. Apparently, there were three, count them, THREE games on last night that mattered for Bostonians. I don't know crap about sports, so don't ask me which teams were playing. All I knew was there were no seats available and lots of beer guzzling going down.

I was determined to get my burger, so I scooted up to the bar and ordered my cheeseburger, well done, with no onions, salad with no dressing instead of fries, and a side of honey mustard. Mmmm......honey mustard. I know, very ridiculously specific annoying girly selection, but hey, I know the bartender so I can get away with it. The fact that I didn't have a seat didn't really bug me all that much. I just wanted the meat.

I chatted with a couple of very nice firefighters while waiting for my food to arrive, and once it did, I again squeezed myself up to the bar and proceeded to eat standing up. Now, in case you've forgotten, I'm pretty short. The bar, well, not so much. I probably looked like a crazy person trying to stand on my tippy-toes to chow down on a burger the size of my head. Oh well, right?

Well, there were a few people off to my left: a guy and his bitch, I'm sorry, girlfriend, and another female friend. He was sitting and they were standing. I caught bits of their conversation and decided if the girlfriend and I were put in a room alone together for an extended amount of time, I'd surely hurt her. She just would NOT shut up.

After finishing half of the burger and salad, the man realized I was struggling to eat my food standing up and kindly offered me his seat. "Thank you so much. That's so nice of you," I said, and gratefully sat down to enjoy the rest of my meal.

Chatty Kathy over there asks him why did he just do that. The bitch was pissed that her boyfriend, being the kind, considerate gentleman he is, offered a total stranger his chair. Why he didn't offer her the seat to begin with is a totally separate issue. Anyway, wouldn't you be impressed with your boyfriend if he did that? Wouldn't you think that was sweet of him? I did. All Chatty Kathy saw was another girl getting attention from her man. She was really unhappy about it.

I finished eating and returned his chair without following my instinct to tell him to dump her sorry ass. But seriously, he should dump her sorry ass. That girl is a bitch. Nice guy, thank you for the seat. You deserve better.

I'm an Auntie! Again!

2006-10-18T15:35:00.001-04:00

My sister GM gave birth to a healthy baby boy last night around 8:00! He has very dark hair, super long fingers and toes, and the appetite of a grown man. So cute.

I love being an auntie to my niece and am thrilled that I now have a nephew to love too! The family just keeps on gettin' bigger. What fun!

Snippets I've Enjoyed

2006-10-18T15:35:00.000-04:00

While rummaging through an old journal, I found the following quotes which I transcribed from Tom Robbins' book, Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates, during the summer of 2000. Enjoy.
_________________________________________________________
The pumpkin is a faceless head, its true identity know only to the Halloween knife and certain deputies of the pie police.
*
Domesticity shrinks the soul of a beast.
*
People of zee wurl, relax.
*
Her eyes were like chocolate-dipped cherry bombs with their fuses lit.
*
All depression has its roots in self-pity, and all self-pity is rooted in people taking themselves too seriously.
*
None of us is much more than a pimple on the ass-end of creation, so let's not get carried away with ourselves....Accept that you're a pimple and try to keep a lively sense of humor about it.
*
The sun rapidly resumed wilting them with its nuclear halitosis.
*
In a universe where flux is fundamental, it can be argued that even change for the worse is preferable to no change at all.
*
Extinction is a consequence of overspecialization.
*
They awoke the next morning wound in the rusty anchor chains of hangover.
*
No one would ever blast a hole in the magic tutu of her childhood.
*
No artist worthy of the name gave a flying fuck whether or not any special interest group--miniscule or multitudinous, benign or malicious--took offense of their heartfelt creations.
*
The people who get to name things have psychological ownership of those things.
*
The universe is organized anarchy.
*
I like to drink just enough to change the temperature in the brain room.
______________________________________________________
I adore Tom Robbins. I actually got to see him in New Mexico during the tour for Villa Incognito. He read an excerpt and during one of his pregnant pauses, I couldn't restrain myself and shouted "I love you Tom!" He looked right at me (at least I think he did--he was wearing dark sunglasses) and said "I love you too, baby."

I nearly died.

Ha Ha, Subway Bitch!

2006-10-18T15:34:00.000-04:00

So I get on the train this morning and sit next to a woman reading the Metro. I pull out my copy which I have already opened to the puzzle section so I can do their sudoku puzzle. She is scoping me out me in that way that fellow train riders will do. Looking off to the side at my paper without moving her head. She is calm for a brief second and then I watch as she starts frantically flipping pages to get to the puzzles. Bitch wants to go! She is going to try to BEAT me at my own game. A challenger!

Bring it.

She starts furiously scribbling in numbers, seeing as how I already have at least a two minute headstart. She is seriously trying to finish the puzzle before me and I am getting all nervous and shaky. I've never had a sudoku race! I can't believe she is making me sweat. So I pull out the big guns and really, really focus on the puzzle. I have to pause for a moment to thoroughly survey the grid and I know she thinks she has me. Bitch don't know what she got comin'.

After a second, I make a major breakthrough and finish the game before we get to Kendall MIT. Ha. She is still trying to solve it through Charles MGH. Park Street is her stop, so she folds up her paper with the incomplete grid, puts it in her bag, and quietly accepts defeat.

HA! A little healthy competition is a great way to start a Friday.

Anyone want to have a sudoku tournament?

Another Form of Birth Control

2006-10-18T15:32:00.000-04:00

I found this link via Dooce:

http://www.shapeofamother.blogspot.com

Beautiful. Not for me quite yet. Everyone should check this out.

Worms! Worms Are Neat!

2006-10-18T15:31:00.000-04:00

When I was little, I used to go on worm rescue missions. If I found a worm baking on a hot sidewalk, getting fried, I'd take it home with me and give it a cool bath to bring it back to life.

And now I find this:

http://www.cnn.com/2006/TRAVEL/07/31/southafrica.reut/index.html

Worms are friggin' amazing. I think I might start my own worm farm.

City Living: The Aggravations

2006-10-18T15:09:00.000-04:00

1. Poop. Poop on the sidewalks. Poop on the benches. Poop on the train. Human poop. Bird poop. Dog poop. Poop.

2. Spatial idiots. Not paying attention to the rest of the world. Anticipate, people.

3. Unidentified liquids. Puddles. Pee? Toxic waste? As Shawn likes to refer to these puddles: "breeding grounds."

4. Creepy old men on public transportation. Stop staring at the little girl's neck.

5. Guy who thinks he can run--RUN--onto a crowded train carrying a posterboard five feet in length. Thanks for the jab!

6. Poop. Wait. I said this already.

7. Too. Many. People. Okay. That's all. For now.

Things I Learned This Weekend

2006-10-18T15:08:00.000-04:00

1. Walk Like an Egyptian is a crowd-pleasing karaoke selection.

2. Giving away a pair of tickets to a Black Crowes concert is not easy.

3. Sometimes one breakfast sandwich just isn't enough.

4. I've been doing push-ups incorrectly my entire life.

5. I can actually do push-ups.

6. Losing your wallet is one of the worst feelings in the world.

7. Finding your wallet is one of the best feelings in the world!

8. $105 buys a hell of a lot of PBR.

9. Haphazardly hanging from the top handrail in a moving subway car can result in much damage to the lower back region.

10. Fiber is my new best friend.

She Had to Try

2006-10-18T15:07:00.000-04:00

I turned on the television last night and caught a segment of some stupid show that has since been on my mind. Thought I'd share.

Police officers were sent to a woman's house whose neighbor had filed a noise complaint against her. One of the officers was apparently her dream man, so after he left, she dialed 911 to try to get his contact information. She told the operator that it isn't often that a handsome man comes right to your doorstep (true). She said she would really like to see him again and could the operator please tell him? The operator said she would give him the message.

Now, I'm thinking, the only reason this could possibly be on this stupid show is if the officer had felt the connection too and now they were happily in love. Well, not so. He did go back to her house though--to ARREST her for calling 911 on a frivolous matter. Now that is shit luck. True, she shouldn't have dialed 911, but she didn't deserve to be arrested, for pete's sake.

Walking is Officially Overrated

2006-10-18T15:06:00.000-04:00

So, I've decided I'm getting a bike. I love to walk, and will continue to do so, but sometimes, I just want to bust a move and can't move my short legs fast enough. I'm tired of not having any other mode of transportation besides my feet.

Those of you who know me well know that I am terrified of biking. Well, not really biking itself, but biking on Massachusetts streets. It scares the bejeezus out of me. Am I supposed to act like a car? Can you give me any pointers so I don't die? I'm definitely going to invest in a helmet, but I think I need a tutorial on the rules.

I am also not a huge fan of having my feet that far off the ground. Weird, I know. Put me in skates and I'm cool. I get on a mountain bike and flip out.

So given my bike height issues, I am in search of a little boy's bike. The kind you'd ride as kid. With a basket. And pegs. I love pegs. Any one have any suggestions where I can find something like this?

Any help is appreciated.

Catastrophes Averted! Sweet Friday Luck.

2006-10-18T15:05:00.000-04:00

To the inconsiderate asshole in my neighborhood: I like dogs. Dogs are great. You have a dog, so it is YOUR DUTY to clean up the dog SHIT that it leaves on the sidewalk on my street. I missed that pile of poo by a friggin' inch this morning because I was looking in my bag to make sure I had everything I needed for work. I, for some silly reason, didn't expect to encounter a steaming pile of SHIT in my path, you lazy son of a bitch. PICK UP YOUR SHIT. That dog is yours, so by default, the SHIT is yours too. Pick it up. If I see you walking your dog and leaving dook piles around the neighborhood, I will pick that shit up and throw it at you.

So, I didn't step in the crap. Whew! I was still pissed, but carried on. I found myself at an intersection and for some reason I was watching the wrong car, judging when to cross the road, and out of nowhere, another car decides to turn the corner. I ran out in front of him before I even realized he was there and he had to slam on his brakes. I'm pretty glad they worked.

I didn't squish the poop and I didn't die. Sweet luck. Happy Friday, friends. I hope you all have a nice weekend that doesn't involve stepping in poop, getting hit by a car, or setting yourself on fire. Fireworks are not toys.

The Worst Haircut Ever - A Follow-Up

2006-10-18T15:04:00.000-04:00

So, if you've read my last blog, you already know that Bruce bought me a gift certificate to a salon in Allston (which shall remain nameless).

Throughout my life, I've randomly decided to chop my hair off. I never plan this. I walk into a salon and tell them, "Uh....just cut it all off. But make it cute if you can." I just get so sick of it. It's hot and high maintenance and annoying.

So, I get the gift certificate and go down to get a cut. I decide at the last minute to cut it all off, again. The man cutting my hair speaks very little English and, I think, assumes I'm a butch lesbian for whatever reason. He gives me a boy's cut. Not at all flattering and really, quite crude. I just sat there loving it. Like I said before, I was going through "the plan is to have no plan" phase, and I figured I would deal with the consequences of his butchery later. I reasoned, "Well, what am I gonna do now? Paste the hair back on?"

He offered to put a bit, A BIT, of orange hair goop into my hair. I was like, well, we've come this far, you might as well go for it. He put it in. It was supposed to provide colored streaks throughout my hair but you could barely see it. He decided I needed more. I just laughed as he started pouring this gel onto my head. It was just too funny to do anything else.

Soon, my head was this slick, spikey, bright orange mass that I was ashamed to say belonged to me. The gel man was laughing his face off, trying to make me look....like I don't know what. An asshole?

I paid for the haircut, laughing hysterically the entire time and as I walked home to my apartment. I had no idea what had just happened. I went straight to the shower and watched the water run down my body, bright orange, until it ran clear.

I got out of the shower, and though I was now orange gel free, I was stuck with this ridiculous haircut.

Well, what are you gonna do?

Bruce, Bruce, Bruce...What Have You Done?

2006-10-18T15:02:00.000-04:00

For one year of my life, I lived in the delightfully infamous Allston, Massachusetts. For those of you unfamiliar with this area of Boston, take my word, it can be a bit overwhelming. It's crowded, noisy, dirty, filled with drunken frat boys, and during the summer, hot damn, does it stink! But given the right state of mind, Allston can be a friggin' blast. I had a lot of happy, scandalous times there. What follows is one of the most bizarre stories that I took with me when I left.

I worked at a bagel place about 5 minutes from my apartment and sometimes, just to mix things up, I would cut through the back lot of the apartment complex across the street from my place to shorten the trip. The path was well-worn and lined with trees, bushes, and weeds. Walking it infused my days with a little bit of trash-infested nature and I loved it.

One day after work, I'm cutting through, minding my own business and I turn the corner and suddenly, it's as though I walked into a fully furnished room in the middle of the woods. There was a homeless man sitting in a recliner, smoking a joint. He smiled at me with his big toothy grin and said, "Welcome to my living room!" The dude had literally set up a living room in the back alley of this complex in a matter of eight hours (I walked through that morning as well). He had a table, several chairs, decorations...the works. I was like, "Oh, okay. Right. Hi. How's it going?" I was in the middle of my "it's all good/the plan is to have no plan" phase, so I just rolled with the punches.

His name was Bruce, he fought in Vietnam, and had been homeless for many years. He had a heart of gold and a lot of garbage-picked furniture that he shifted from alley to alley to avoid getting arrested. He liked to feel at home, so he would set up this make-shift living room all over Allston, never staying long enough to draw too much attention to himself.

I really enjoyed my time with him and began to see him everywhere. He invited me to lunch one day and we sat and chatted. He pulled out a thick wad of cash and bought my meal for me. I was broke and living off stale bagels so I thanked him mightily. It feels weird to have a homeless man buy you lunch when you are employed full-time but, nevertheless, consistently flat-broke. I was very grateful.

He knew where I lived and worked and started showing up at the bagel shop with presents for me. He brought me flowers and little trinkets, and soon my boss was taking me aside to discuss Bruce's seeming obsession. I told him he was harmless, and he was.

One day Bruce came to me and said he had something for me. He handed me a gift certificate from this Brazilian salon down the street and told me, "Get yourself something nice. Get one of those manicures or pedicures or something."

All I could think was, "A homeless man bought me a gift certificate. A homeless man bought me a gift certificate!?" What the hell? Right? I insisted he take it back and get a refund but he whole-heartedly refused. I eventually (reluctantly) accepted his gift and used it to get what ultimately became the worst, most disappointing haircut I have ever received.

I left Allston not long thereafter and never saw Bruce again. Last time I was there I asked another man on the streets what happened to him and he said he was in prison. Not sure what happened, but I wish him all the best. He was a good egg.

To Hell With Sudoku!

2006-10-18T15:01:00.000-04:00

Argh....I hate sudoku. But I love it. It brings me such a nerdy little thrill that i can't contain myself. I do these puzzles nonstop, for hours at a time.

I was first introduced to sudoku by way of my soon-to-be brother-in-law (wow, long live the Hyphen!). I leaned over his shoulder, purposefully invading his personal space as he so often does mine, thinking, "Oh, dumbass, put the 2 there. Put the 5 there. Just put that 7 there." He complied, I think because he was afraid to disobey my orders. The puzzle became an irreparable mess.

I ignored sudoku for many months, until, randomly, I came across a site that allowed me to play online. Once I took the time to actually learn the rules (I was very confused the first time I played and thought I had to match diagonal lines as well), I realized, "Huh, I'm actually not so bad at this." I was finishing these online puzzles left and friggin' right. I was Queen of the Sudoku World and thrilled at my ability to complete these puzzles. Then, one day a couple weeks ago, I was compelled to purchase a small, cheap book of puzzles at the bookstore. And so commenced my private sudoku hell.

This stupid book is hard and I'm pissed. I'm not a sudoku master. I will keep playing, however, because I need it. It calms my brain. I've been doing puzzles with my morning coffee. That shit'll wake you up. Make you pissed, sure. But it will definitely wake you up.

Huh. Maybe that's why I've been so grumpy.

A Case of Arson & Mistaken Identity

2006-10-18T14:59:00.000-04:00

I was walking to work this morning and randomly remembered something that happened to me a few years back when I was living in New Mexico. It made me chuckle so I thought I'd share.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Phone rings)

MJ: Hello?

Operator: You have a collect call from The New Mexico State Penitentiary. Will you accept the charges?

MJ: Huh? Um. Okay. Yeah.

Caller: Hi. Can I speak to MJ?

MJ: This is MJ.

Caller: Hi M. It's me. Doug.

MJ: Doug? Doug who? I don't know a Doug. I think you have the wrong number.

Doug: This is MJ, right? In New Mexico?

MJ: Yes, but I think you have the wrong MJ. There are quite a few of us.

Doug: No, it's me, Doug.

MJ: I'm tellin' you. I don't know you, Doug.

Doug: Come on. You remember.

MJ: Okay, Doug. How would I know you?

Doug: ....I set a lot of fires?

MJ: What?! YOUVE GOT THE WRONG MJ!

Doug: Oh, really? Oh, I'm so sorry. Okay then. I'll let you go.

MJ: Okay. Bye, Doug.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The best part of this story was when, a week later, I checked my mail and found a letter from Doug at the penitentiary. He said he was really sorry to bother me and he enclosed three dollars to reimburse me for the collect call.

Who ever said all arsonists are bad guys?

Soggy, Soggy City

2006-10-18T14:58:00.000-04:00

Ugh. For all of you friends who live in areas of the country which are experiencing beautiful, sunny weather, please take the time to appreciate what you've got.

Boston is rainy. And by "rainy" I mean, freakin' drenched. It's been raining for what seems like an eternity here and it is taking a toll on me and everyone I know. Don't get me wrong, I love the rain. Having lived in New Mexico (a/k/a "Desert Wasteland"), I know how lucky we are to be getting this water. But what I wouldn't give for a little time in the sun.

When the weather is crappy, I try to get out anyway and not let it turn me into even more of a hermit than I already am. It's just so wet outside that all I want to do is curl up in bed with a movie. I'm getting cabin fever.

Rain, rain, go away. Please?

Student Loans + Credit Card = My Personal Hell

2006-10-18T14:57:00.000-04:00

I am exactly $40,745.01 in the hole. Good times.

I will now pretend I don't know this.

Sucky People Suck

2006-10-18T14:54:00.000-04:00

I have a real problem with people who cannot put themselves in the shoes of others. For god's sake, fucking look around you. Experience the world. Take your stupid blinders off for five seconds, please.

I hate people. Not any of you darlings reading this, but people in general. We suck.

Seriously?

2006-10-18T14:53:00.000-04:00

I got to the train station to discover that my train was already pulling in. I started hauling ass and barely made it through the doors. Nice. Happy Tuesday.

The train is already packed and I have committed to being "that girl", so I force my way in. It's tight in there and I see that the man to my right has plenty of room next to him. I ask, "Excuse me, could you scoot down a bit?" I thought my request was pretty reasonable, given the fact that people were going to be piling in at the next stop...and the one after that...and after that...and so on.

He says, "I'm all set."

Huh. Well, fuck you too.

A Back-Scratching Good Time

2006-10-18T14:46:00.000-04:00

I got to the train station this morning and nearly ripped my shirt off because my back was itching so bad. Wicked dry skin this time of the year in MJLand.
I remembered:

I used to work the register at this place that shall remain nameless. One of my coworkers there was hot. I mean h-o-t, hot. He was recently divorced with two children and I knew from the moment we met that we were not meant to be. But, boy, oh boy, how I loved working those shifts with him. Watching him bag the unnecessary crap that people purchase, seeing him fight with the register and win, watching him hold the door open for old people. He could dance too. Mmmm. I had such a terrible crush.

So one day, I am at the register doing my thang and my back starts itching like crazy. I turned into a contortionist, trying desperately to reach that one inaccessible spot on my back without success.

He came up behind me, I didn't even know he was there, and started scratching my back. It felt so nice.

That's all I want. I want that moment when my special someone has anticipated and realized my needs and without speaking, takes action. It is so nice to be cared for and seen and to reciprocate in turn. For all of my coupled friends out there, you are lucky. Be appreciative and be good to each other.

Bluejeans, Schmujeans

2006-10-18T14:45:00.000-04:00

So, my favorite pair of jeans has a hole in the crotch and yesterday I decided to go try to find a new pair. Good times.

I went to the Gap, and I know the Gap is a terrible store doing terrible things all over the world, but I'm sorry. I hate looking for new jeans and I have had the best luck there.

I pick out several styles and sizes, go to the dressing room, try them on, and none of them felt like my new favorite pair of jeans. One of the women working there offered to get me another size in something that I thought might work. Those new, left weave jeans are really soft and I like that, except the fact that they have no stretch to them whatsoever, which makes my thighs feel like they are being friggin' shrink-wrapped.

I told the saleslady who was helping me that I really liked them, but they are so uncomfortable in the legs. She said she had a pair of the same jeans and loves them. I said, "Yeah, but look how much thinner you are than me." And she said.................."I know."

Now, I have given her response much thought and discussed it at length with a few people and I have decided, this girl is just a stupid little brat. Stupid, thin, little brat-faced brat. She has no common sense and clearly was not listening to me, because if she was, she probably would have said something like, "Oh my god, I am not. Well, thank you, that is very nice of you to say." I mean, seriously, you little brat....why, I oughtta....

Anyway, just thought I'd share and warn you that if you are having a bad day, not quite feeling right about your life, feeling premenstrual and bloated, avoid the Gap at Porter Square like the plague. That little bitch made me feel like crap and she will surely make other customers feel the same. I need to write a letter to her manager.

On One Leg in MJLand

2006-10-18T14:44:00.000-04:00

So, the night before last, I had a dream....

My cat was in really bad shape. His hair was thinning and his two hind legs and tail had been amputated. He was abandoned and alone and I tried to wrap him in a blanket or something?

Then, my sister DJ was there and now she was missing a leg (GP, can you recall what I told you on the porch? My memory is unreliable the day after a dream.). At least I think that is what happened, you know how dreams can be.

Whatever the second piece was, it involved a leg amputation/deformity.
So, last night I dreamt that my (married) sister, who suddenly was blond, which is definitely the wrong color for her, was going on a date with a man with a prosthetic leg.

Weird.

This morning, DJ called me around 8:00. She never calls that early, so I figured something was up. She said she had had a really bad dream about me. My leg was all messed up and was getting shorter and then I had a clubfoot (one word or two? club foot...clubfoot...google says one, nice job, MJ). She was clearly distressed and I had to interrupt her to tell her that for the past two nights, I have been dreaming about amputations!

How weird is that shit? I think this is my brain's way of telling me that my life is unbalanced right now. I'm off kilter. I've been feeling really anxious lately, thinking I am forgetting something. Forgetting to pay a bill, call a friend, return a movie, something! Last night I went through all the random piles of crap in my bedroom searching for that thing I've been neglecting. I couldn't find anything. Something is missing or I am not listening to my gut about my life or I don't know what. It's unsettling. I think the amputations I'm experiencing are my brain's attempts to get back on my feet and face the world. It would really suck to deal with losing a limb, or one of my loved ones losing one of their limbs, and nothing is really wrong in my world. I need to realize that all is well and I've just gotta do what I gotta do to stay happy and in control of my happiness. I must seek stability and focus and balance in MJLand.

DO NOT LEAN AGAINST THE DOORS!!!!!!

2006-10-18T14:43:00.000-04:00

Wednesday, March 8, 2006, began pretty much like any typical workday. Well, except the fact that my sister was going to have a tumor removed from her leg....another story, another blog. She was having a tumor removed and I was on my way to work. You see, I had originally planned on going to the hospital with her and taking the day off, but my older sister brought it to my attention that our little surgery patient would be all alone the day after her surgery. So, I decided not to go on Wednesday, but rather, to spend all Thursday with her.

So, I'm on my way to work, on the train with GP, my roommate, and we are positioned in such a way that I am right up against the door at the end of the car that leads to the next car. There is, of course, a very clear sign on the door that says, "Do not lean against the doors" but I, as usual, choose to ignore this sign and press my luck. It is car number 01600, a number I will recall until the day I die. jk. I just made a point of remembering it.

Next stop, Porter Square. All is well, life is good. Next stop, DEATH!, I mean, Harvard Square. So, we are going and all of a sudden, the door I am LEANING against (stupid MJ, stupid MJ)....wait for it.....wait for it....it OPENS!!!!!! WHILE THE TRAIN IS MOVING!!!! In between stations!!!! AHHHH!!!!

For some lucky reason, I happened to be holding on to a rail and did not fall out of the train, as you can probably guess from the mere fact that I am writing this blog and am NOT DEAD. My backpack nearly fell off the train as well. It was almost a very bad day.

I was sort of in shock I guess, because I can't really remember the rest of the ride all that well. There was a very nice man who tried with all his might to lock the door and then stood next to it, putting himself in harms way and keeping GP and me safe. That was really nice. You're a good man, Charlie Brown.

So, leaning, door opens, nearly died---I decided, to hell with work, I'm going to the hospital to be there for my sister and that is exactly what I did. These are my Chronicles of Trainia and the moral of this story is (say it with me now): DO NOT LEAN AGAINST THE DOORS!

Dear Train Lady,

2006-10-18T14:41:00.000-04:00

(3/5/06)

I hope this message finds you well. I am writing to acknowledge the sticky, drippy situation in which you managed to find yourself this previous Friday evening on the red line.

To refresh your mind, you decided that it was a perfectly acceptable idea to bring your entire dinner onto the train with you to consume during the 5:00 Friday rush. I must say, I was not only impressed, but rather amused by your ability and willingness to create your well-balanced meal entirely from White Hen Pantry. Well done, Train Lady, well done.

I was, I must admit, a bit jealous of your White Hen fare. You see, it was that time of day when I just feel like eating everything that isn't nailed down. Thank you for giving me something to gaze at longingly during the ride. I mean, I don't even like Fritos all that much, but damn they stank good.

After you finished munching those delightfully-scented Fritos, you decided to wait on your thick, triangular, plastic-wrapped sandwich, and go straight for your Diet Dr. Pepper. What happened next shocked us all.

You cracked the top and KABOOM!!! The soda-pop exploded and went everywhere (but mostly, all over you, your Fritos, the aforementioned sandwich, and your purse)!!!! HA!!!!!
I was the sole passenger to offer you assistance as you were covered in Diet Dr. Pepper. I gave you the napkins I had in my pocket from my breakfast and you attempted to solve your three-paper-towels-needed dilemma with four measly, non-absorbent pieces of crap that someone decided would serve well as napkins.

I just want to say, Train Lady, that I wish I had had more paper products to offer. I also wish that someone else had stepped up to the plate to help their fellow human in distress. Unfortunately, you cannot count on other humans to help you in times of need. You should really know better.

With that said, I hope the next time you decide to bring such a load of consumables onto public transportation, you will remember to bring napkins with you. Please, for the individuals who were caught in the wrath of said soda incident, and for all caught in the future, be prepared.

Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,
MJ

The Good in This World

2006-10-18T14:38:00.000-04:00

( 2/3/06)

While I was living in New Mexico, all of my CDs were stolen out of my (ex)boyfriend's truck while it was sitting in a mechanic's lot. I lost every single one of my favorite discs. It was a devastating realization to discover I suddenly owned not a single piece of familiar music.

I called my family and told them all about it and without asking, my fabulous sisters copied everything from their music collections that they thought I would like. In a matter of a couple weeks, I received by mail about 100 new CDs, including many old staples and many unknowns. I was struck not by how many CDs I now had--which by the way was more than I had owned originally--but rather, by how friggin' awesome my sisters are.

My family is the good in my world.

Other good things in my world include:

Friends (you know who you are and I love you all)

Ketchup

Coffee

People who are NOT spatial idiots on the train and in other public realms

Craigslist

Sleep

Apricots

Cheese, cheese, and more cheese

Wine

Gatorade

Slippers

Long johns

Feather pillows

Aveeno Chapstick

Cherry tomatoes

Pilot pens

Fiction

Sunny winter days

There is much good in the world. Recognize your good and love it.

It Is As If Something Has Shifted

2006-10-18T14:35:00.000-04:00

(10/26/05)

I was talking with the magnificent SP this evening and he asked me if I was excited that the White Sox are kicking ass. I told him that I just found out they were playing about two hours ago. I am totally out of the baseball loop. So, he talked about the Red Sox winning after all that time, and the White Sox winning after all that time---

I mentioned hurricanes, volcanoes, tsunamis, earthquakes. And now that I am thinking about it--epidemics, new flus, vaccine shortages. All of these "unlikely" events happening right around the same time.

It is as if something has shifted.

We are exploding as a species. We have reached capacity. The world, our little planet earth, etc., is equalizing. Our effects are now being documented, recorded, analyzed by our natural world. Things are changing. Natural and "unnatural". Equalizing stabilizing making right what once went wrong.

It is depressing? It is terrible, yes. Is it natural? Yes. But we created it so it is artificial. But did this world not create us? Our things are descendants of our intellect. Products of products of products. Natural disasters are products of products of products. But the momentum has shifted. Instead of creating forward...moving forward...won't the equalization be a step backward? Won't it be retrogression?

Will it? I ask you.

I answer my own questions.

I don't think so. I think that it is simply and purely a step. A seemingly chaotic completely natural way for things to occur. Is it sad? Sure. It is what it is and you can either accept it and deal or stress and worry about it.

Disclaimer: The writer does not believe her argument is an excuse for laziness, nonchalance, or non-action.

It Is Amazing What A Few Months Can Do

2006-10-18T14:33:00.000-04:00

(Written 10/24/05)

So, when I moved back to Boston (for the third time) last February, I had exactly four friends in the city. One I adore and see semi-frequently, another I have not yet contacted so I don't think we are really friends, and the other two are those weird friends who you never call but are happy to see when you run into them at a party. I had family, but no one to really talk to and I was coming off of a really nasty breakup.

This was the breakup which trumped all other breakups in my repertoire. I felt like I was dying inside and, looking back on it, I guess I sort of was. Naturally, time heals all wounds and I recovered. I spent a lot of time alone, walking around the city, observing people.

Then, I decided to try out for a play. My life literally exploded with possibility. Being on stage again made me realize that I can do this. I can do that. I'll get through it. I have potential. I can make people "feel" and that feels good. I signed up for a class. I met new people. I smiled and laughed, really laughed, for the first time in a long time. It felt good.Now, I have so much to do I cannot keep track of it. I am so busy I think I might explode. It is good to be busy, but all I want (and here I frickin’ go again) is to be bored with someone I love. I wanna sit and make stupid jokes and cuddle and order in and take showers and scrub each other's backs. I want to make someone happy. Where are you, lover boy? Come quick!!!!!!!

I Will Now Subject You To My Very First Blog

2006-10-18T12:45:00.000-04:00

(Written October 19, 2005)

Welcome to my first blog ever. I've never done this before, so be patient, dear readers.

So, I've begun to feel like I must not know myself very well because I am having the damnedest time filling out my myspace profile. Everytime I type something in, I think, nah, that's not me or that doesn't sound right. Then an unexpected error occurs and shuts me down and I just plain give up. This time will be different. I can feel it in my bones.

I am at a weird point in my life. I feel like I have all these things going for me, right? Like stuff is right where it is supposed to be. Work is good. School is time-consuming but worthwhile. My bedroom is clean and my bills are paid. I even have clean underwear in my drawer and the makings for a decent sandwich in my refridgerator. But yet, something is lacking.

I was grocery shopping on Sunday and I nearly broke down in the chip aisle. I wanted to buy a jar of salsa con queso, but realized that there was little chance that I alone would be able to consume the entire jar before it got all weird and coagulated. If I had someone to share my life with, a partner, a man, he would eat the salsa con queso and I wouldn't have to worry about it going bad. He might even go halfies on it with me. But there is no one.

I'm not really sad generally. I go about my life, doing my own thing and I'm happy. I feel good really. But that stupid jar of processed cheese goop really fucked with me. It brought to mind a post on craigslist (my bff) that I read some time ago (not sure when, I read so many posts each day...yes, I am a junkie). This girl was talking about how the thing she misses most about being in a relationship is knowing that if she buys a loaf of bread, it will all be eaten before it goes stale. You see, she alone could not consume an entire loaf before it got stale or moldy. I never understood her plight better than Sunday, standing, staring at the salsa con queso.

Everyone says, "be patient. it will happen when you least expect it". I don't expect a thing, but god damn! And sure, I could probably meet someone tonight to play with, but I don't want to play. I want to get comfortable with someone.

I am throwing a pity party over a jar of salsa. I should have just purchased it and let the damn stuff go bad.