I have been doing this thing lately while I try hard to be present, like Rhonda and Iyanla would say on Starting Over. I first really started doing this last month when I visited my former digs at Stout -- just trying to not do the "what if" and the "woulda coulda shoulda" but just recognizing where I am in that moment.
Now that there's a 90% chance that I will not be staying in New York, I am doing that here, too. For the past two days I have walked the Brooklyn Bridge. When the weather is beautiful in New York, I feel there is no excuse not to walk one of the bridges. Today I walked from Brooklyn into Manhattan and even took out my iPod, hearing all of the various foreign languages and rolling my eyes when a crabby lady yelled "BIKE LANE!" to people in her way. I am all about etiquette, but it's a crowded beautiful afternoon on a Saturday. People have to walk in the bike lane, lady, and half the bridge doesn't speak English and the other half is like me and could really give two shits.
I walked around the city today and took AWFUL pictures of random things, and can't wait to post them. I am not a good photographer and have never fancied myself one. I am all about the candids, people. A sailor on the bridge said hello to me and I was not mad. Fleet Week has turned me into even more of a 13-year-old girl than I usually am.
I rode the 2 train back home. I cannot describe the 2 train other than to say that God's people are on it. There's a feeling of community and humanity that I feel seeing all of the families on that train.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
New York
During the five seconds that I was a student at Brooklyn College, I had to write an essay comparing New York to something. I felt like sharing.
Jacob xxxxxx
English 2
Someday New York Will Notice Me
If life is an incredibly abstract version of high school, New York would be the most popular girl at the table in the center of the cafeteria, and we are all the needy wallflowers hoping that she‘ll notice us. Unfortunately, New York, being the social butterfly that she is, does not have enough time and patience for everybody, and it is up to ourselves to be acknowledged.
In New York, it is quite easy to feel like "just a number" (eight million to be exact). There are few places on the planet full of more activity. With the exception of Times Square, people walk as if they are being chased in a horror film. Subway stations are full of businessmen speed-walking in elegant suits and young women going clickety-clack in their heels while staring at their out-of-service cell phones. Streets are filled with more horns than an orchestra. For the pedestrians, crosswalk signs are coincidental.
On crowded sidewalks and subways in New York, people do not apologize after bumping into you or stepping on your shoe. They abstain from apologizing not necessarily out of rudeness, but because it is the result of the environment. They will likely step on at least two more people today. New York separates itself from other places because, being a city of destination, it is a goal-oriented city of doers and dreamers. When you are trotting idly on the sidewalk, you are literally in the way of someone's dream -- and if you dare to be here without one of your own, that's your fault.
While New York is glad you are in her presence and making an addition to what would be her entourage, she does not look out for you. This is not because she is callous, but because it is an impossible task. New York does not have the time to care if you are lonely or out of place. You are not the only lost pedestrian who got off the subway at the wrong time and ended up in Hell’s Kitchen en route to Times Square. You are not the only newcomer wondering why it is impossible to find a 12-pack of soda in lieu of two or three liter bottles -- nor are you the only newcomer who is still learning to call it “soda”, since your colloquialism of “pop” sounds more like a hard drug than a soft beverage. Most importantly, you are not the only dreamer who decided that New York would fix everything if you moved here to attain your financial and personal successes, but upon arrival realized you left your spine somewhere along the way.
But before the city is to be dismissed as one that ignores the plight of its citizens, I have noticed that it has its small moments of comfort. There has been the woman who called me “sweetheart” when I opened the door for her at Duane Reade. There has been the fellow nightclubber who apologized with a terse but sincere “Sorry, bro” after the only way to get through the place was to physically lift me a few inches off the ground and set me back into place. After a little more than 30 days in the city, I am already able to jokingly refer to places as “my home away from home”, such as the Laundromat down the road (they get mad when I turn on The People’s Court, but they’re nice enough and always help when my quarters get stuck), the pizza place that serves the finest I will ever have, and perhaps most fondly, there is the liquor store down the street, owned by a kind man of Asian descent whose ten-year-old son occasionally helps him out. Only in New York does a ten-year-old boy not only inform you of a declined debit card, he does it in a way that suggests this is nothing new for him.
New York is a place of natural congregation, from the foreign-born shop owner who dreams of prosperity to the Montana girl who dreams of stardom. Should one find the fortitude to go after such goals, this is the place to attain them. It is by no means easy to get noticed by New York, as she is impatient, busy and restless. But should we have the confidence to stand up for ourselves and attempt to catch her eye, we will find that she is also vibrant and giving -- and for those of us brave and bold enough to sit at New York’s table, she’s a friend indeed.
Jacob xxxxxx
English 2
Someday New York Will Notice Me
If life is an incredibly abstract version of high school, New York would be the most popular girl at the table in the center of the cafeteria, and we are all the needy wallflowers hoping that she‘ll notice us. Unfortunately, New York, being the social butterfly that she is, does not have enough time and patience for everybody, and it is up to ourselves to be acknowledged.
In New York, it is quite easy to feel like "just a number" (eight million to be exact). There are few places on the planet full of more activity. With the exception of Times Square, people walk as if they are being chased in a horror film. Subway stations are full of businessmen speed-walking in elegant suits and young women going clickety-clack in their heels while staring at their out-of-service cell phones. Streets are filled with more horns than an orchestra. For the pedestrians, crosswalk signs are coincidental.
On crowded sidewalks and subways in New York, people do not apologize after bumping into you or stepping on your shoe. They abstain from apologizing not necessarily out of rudeness, but because it is the result of the environment. They will likely step on at least two more people today. New York separates itself from other places because, being a city of destination, it is a goal-oriented city of doers and dreamers. When you are trotting idly on the sidewalk, you are literally in the way of someone's dream -- and if you dare to be here without one of your own, that's your fault.
While New York is glad you are in her presence and making an addition to what would be her entourage, she does not look out for you. This is not because she is callous, but because it is an impossible task. New York does not have the time to care if you are lonely or out of place. You are not the only lost pedestrian who got off the subway at the wrong time and ended up in Hell’s Kitchen en route to Times Square. You are not the only newcomer wondering why it is impossible to find a 12-pack of soda in lieu of two or three liter bottles -- nor are you the only newcomer who is still learning to call it “soda”, since your colloquialism of “pop” sounds more like a hard drug than a soft beverage. Most importantly, you are not the only dreamer who decided that New York would fix everything if you moved here to attain your financial and personal successes, but upon arrival realized you left your spine somewhere along the way.
But before the city is to be dismissed as one that ignores the plight of its citizens, I have noticed that it has its small moments of comfort. There has been the woman who called me “sweetheart” when I opened the door for her at Duane Reade. There has been the fellow nightclubber who apologized with a terse but sincere “Sorry, bro” after the only way to get through the place was to physically lift me a few inches off the ground and set me back into place. After a little more than 30 days in the city, I am already able to jokingly refer to places as “my home away from home”, such as the Laundromat down the road (they get mad when I turn on The People’s Court, but they’re nice enough and always help when my quarters get stuck), the pizza place that serves the finest I will ever have, and perhaps most fondly, there is the liquor store down the street, owned by a kind man of Asian descent whose ten-year-old son occasionally helps him out. Only in New York does a ten-year-old boy not only inform you of a declined debit card, he does it in a way that suggests this is nothing new for him.
New York is a place of natural congregation, from the foreign-born shop owner who dreams of prosperity to the Montana girl who dreams of stardom. Should one find the fortitude to go after such goals, this is the place to attain them. It is by no means easy to get noticed by New York, as she is impatient, busy and restless. But should we have the confidence to stand up for ourselves and attempt to catch her eye, we will find that she is also vibrant and giving -- and for those of us brave and bold enough to sit at New York’s table, she’s a friend indeed.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
hey mama
This week in New York, my MOTHER visited! The entire weekend was quite miraculous as my apartment is now clean and I can actually see the carpet, and we only got in about four different fights, which for us is very good (yes, I have Mommy issues, but I can also admit they're stupid and not worth two segments on Dr. Phil).
On Friday we ventured into the city because I had a job interview. At the risk of being dramatic, this job is kind of my last hope -- I'm for sure leaving the penthouse on July 31st and 90% says Minneapolis while 10% says I miraculously get a decent job and an affordable apartment in that time frame. Yowza. They seemed to like me and said they would call me later to schedule a training session. I don't want to give away too many details because I'm worried about jinxing it, but I will say that it's a restaurant job with a hiring process so complicated you would think I am trying to become a member of the NYPD.
Saturday we saw In the Heights, recently nominated for 13 Tony awards. If you are in New York, see this show. If you are not in New York, buy the soundtrack. It is funny and inspirational and sad and it will make you wish you were fluent in Spanish. I really enjoyed it. My mother cried through the entire thing, much like the time we went to the Martina McBride concert at the Minnesota State Fair.
Sunday we did nothing because I was tuckered out and wanted to stay in bed, so my mother enjoyed my neighborhood's laundromat and grocery store and found it amusing when a Caribbean man called her "Mami". That night we watched the Desperate Housewives finale, which was certainly a WTF.
Monday we went to go see Ground Zero but kind of got lost, as it's in a section of Manhattan that neither one of us has been to before. "I saw where it was," she said. "That's all I really needed to know." We then took the 6 (like J Lo!) up one stop to Brooklyn Bridge/City Hall and walked from the bridge to Brooklyn, where we had great sandwiches at Celeste's Diner -- and on the bridge, we saw a bride and groom walk past us, in full-on wedding garb. One of those "only in New York" moments.
My mother left this morning, and I finally was on the phone with my best friend Erin! Erin and I are very much like Oprah and Gayle in that we talk on the phone all the damn time, and Erin has been studying abroad in France for the past five months. I made her a CD for her birthday but then forgot I didn't have any blank CD's in the house, so now I have to mail it to her. Then I had my first "training day" at the restaurant. I feel it went well, but they said they were trying out other people and if they want me back, they'll call me in a couple days. Getting a job in New York is worse than dating.
I also was sort of cheap last week and had a boy over (yes, I'm 21 but I still say "boys". Someday I will use "man" when I feel I am mature enough about it). I felt kind of bad about it, but then he re-organized my DVD shelf and I was like, "Oh, THAT'S why people do this." Maybe next month I will have another hook-up and get my light bulbs changed.
On Friday we ventured into the city because I had a job interview. At the risk of being dramatic, this job is kind of my last hope -- I'm for sure leaving the penthouse on July 31st and 90% says Minneapolis while 10% says I miraculously get a decent job and an affordable apartment in that time frame. Yowza. They seemed to like me and said they would call me later to schedule a training session. I don't want to give away too many details because I'm worried about jinxing it, but I will say that it's a restaurant job with a hiring process so complicated you would think I am trying to become a member of the NYPD.
Saturday we saw In the Heights, recently nominated for 13 Tony awards. If you are in New York, see this show. If you are not in New York, buy the soundtrack. It is funny and inspirational and sad and it will make you wish you were fluent in Spanish. I really enjoyed it. My mother cried through the entire thing, much like the time we went to the Martina McBride concert at the Minnesota State Fair.
Sunday we did nothing because I was tuckered out and wanted to stay in bed, so my mother enjoyed my neighborhood's laundromat and grocery store and found it amusing when a Caribbean man called her "Mami". That night we watched the Desperate Housewives finale, which was certainly a WTF.
Monday we went to go see Ground Zero but kind of got lost, as it's in a section of Manhattan that neither one of us has been to before. "I saw where it was," she said. "That's all I really needed to know." We then took the 6 (like J Lo!) up one stop to Brooklyn Bridge/City Hall and walked from the bridge to Brooklyn, where we had great sandwiches at Celeste's Diner -- and on the bridge, we saw a bride and groom walk past us, in full-on wedding garb. One of those "only in New York" moments.
My mother left this morning, and I finally was on the phone with my best friend Erin! Erin and I are very much like Oprah and Gayle in that we talk on the phone all the damn time, and Erin has been studying abroad in France for the past five months. I made her a CD for her birthday but then forgot I didn't have any blank CD's in the house, so now I have to mail it to her. Then I had my first "training day" at the restaurant. I feel it went well, but they said they were trying out other people and if they want me back, they'll call me in a couple days. Getting a job in New York is worse than dating.
I also was sort of cheap last week and had a boy over (yes, I'm 21 but I still say "boys". Someday I will use "man" when I feel I am mature enough about it). I felt kind of bad about it, but then he re-organized my DVD shelf and I was like, "Oh, THAT'S why people do this." Maybe next month I will have another hook-up and get my light bulbs changed.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
turtle power
back when i actually went to class
i had a wonderful professor named dr don
he said we are all different animals when we come to conflict
owl turtle fox teddy bear or shark
my brother is a shark (aggressive)
my mother is a fox (passive-aggressive, manipulative)
erin is a teddy bear (passive, gives in to everyting)
i am a turtle (passive, avoids everything)
i cannot be a turtle anymore
i have a month to figure out the next year of my life
that is scary
the writing is on the wall
but yet i have to keep hope
because otherwise i am back where i started in sophomore year of stout
when i wore the smile like make-up
yet was dashboard confessional by day
in other news
someone said it
i don't care who said it
someone still said it
and i wouldn't be so pissed off if i didn't think it was true
i wish you well
i wish you well
i wish you well
(mariah carey, e=mc2, no, it's not mimi but nothing ever could be, BUY IT)
sobriety feels odd
but i think i could get used to it
i had a wonderful professor named dr don
he said we are all different animals when we come to conflict
owl turtle fox teddy bear or shark
my brother is a shark (aggressive)
my mother is a fox (passive-aggressive, manipulative)
erin is a teddy bear (passive, gives in to everyting)
i am a turtle (passive, avoids everything)
i cannot be a turtle anymore
i have a month to figure out the next year of my life
that is scary
the writing is on the wall
but yet i have to keep hope
because otherwise i am back where i started in sophomore year of stout
when i wore the smile like make-up
yet was dashboard confessional by day
in other news
someone said it
i don't care who said it
someone still said it
and i wouldn't be so pissed off if i didn't think it was true
i wish you well
i wish you well
i wish you well
(mariah carey, e=mc2, no, it's not mimi but nothing ever could be, BUY IT)
sobriety feels odd
but i think i could get used to it
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Today in New York
After a week of being sick and then two days of not getting out of bed (I sleep all the time because my REM cycles run like a high-speed ferris wheel ... I have about five dreams per night), I finally ventured to Manhattan today to get me a damn job! I also wanted to go get my haircut by the Sexy Bosnians, but I didn't get there in time, so now I have to go there tomorrow when my mother is in town!
I chose to take the N train into the city instead of the R train, because I realized I would be late for the barber shop anyway, and the N train goes above a bridge while the R doesn't. I think that's why people on the R always look so sad. They ride the Subway of Seasonal Depression.
I dropped off an application to be a host at a diner, and they made me take a test! WTF? "List five examples of good service." "List ten examples of good service." This is HARD, I thought to myself, but I think I did okay, except for Question #5, "What is in an egg cream?", which I simply answered with "Bananas".
Then I got home in time to watch Jeopardy! This week is Week Two of the College Championship, and I am waaaayyyy to into it this year, to the point of pure embarrassment. It's been a hoot on TelevisionWithoutPity.com because one of the finalists has been posting. Tomorrow she competes against a very annoying person who she assures us is actually nice in real life, and a boy from Mississippi State who I am way too embarrassed to have a crush on. WHO WATCHES GAME SHOWS AND GETS CRUSHES ON THE CONTESTANTS?? Like, really. Not to mention that while on the stalled 2 train I was already sounding like an 85-year-old, griping that I was going to miss Jeopardy.
My mother is visiting tomorrow, so I am either going to clean. Or drink.
I chose to take the N train into the city instead of the R train, because I realized I would be late for the barber shop anyway, and the N train goes above a bridge while the R doesn't. I think that's why people on the R always look so sad. They ride the Subway of Seasonal Depression.
I dropped off an application to be a host at a diner, and they made me take a test! WTF? "List five examples of good service." "List ten examples of good service." This is HARD, I thought to myself, but I think I did okay, except for Question #5, "What is in an egg cream?", which I simply answered with "Bananas".
Then I got home in time to watch Jeopardy! This week is Week Two of the College Championship, and I am waaaayyyy to into it this year, to the point of pure embarrassment. It's been a hoot on TelevisionWithoutPity.com because one of the finalists has been posting. Tomorrow she competes against a very annoying person who she assures us is actually nice in real life, and a boy from Mississippi State who I am way too embarrassed to have a crush on. WHO WATCHES GAME SHOWS AND GETS CRUSHES ON THE CONTESTANTS?? Like, really. Not to mention that while on the stalled 2 train I was already sounding like an 85-year-old, griping that I was going to miss Jeopardy.
My mother is visiting tomorrow, so I am either going to clean. Or drink.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Are You There, God? It's Me, Jakey
My grandma died in October. She had 13 grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren. I was the only one of them who was not at her funeral, because I was in New York wasting my life.
I didn't cry when she died. She had been suffering from a brain tumor for over a year, and my mother and aunt were functioning as her caregivers. Still, I always assumed I would see her again, and did not know that our July trip to her care center, where we had a barbecue and I was too lazy to climb over the table and hug her, would be the last time I would see her.
I sent an e-mail to be read aloud at her funeral, speaking of how she would always take Dane and me to movies we weren't allowed to see and would give us Pepsi whenever she wanted. Then I never thought about her. Consumed in my own drama, I put my thoughts about her away, knowing I would deal with them again someday.
It is Mother's Day. At 2 in the morning, I was on the toilet having my usual bout of Irritable Bowel Syndrome. It is perhaps wrong to have spiritual experiences on the toilet, but that is where I usually have them, because I am alone with my thoughts or listening to Delilah.
I folded my hands and talked to God. I started sobbing and I said I was sorry for doing this on the toilet, but hopefully He didn't care about stuff about that. I asked him to put Grandma on the line. I don't know what she was doing, but God went to go get her. I wonder what time zone she is in.
And I finally talked to her. I told her I was sorry that I wasn't at her funeral, that I didn't call enough, that I didn't get my driver's license and drive up to see her. She told me it was okay. She asked me how New York was. I told her I was sorry she could never go see it. I told her I was screwing everything up, and she told me that I could still do it, and she always knew she would see my name in lights. I said I was sorry for talking to her while I was on the toilet. I asked her if she ever plays Scrabble in heaven.
Then I knew I would be okay.
I didn't cry when she died. She had been suffering from a brain tumor for over a year, and my mother and aunt were functioning as her caregivers. Still, I always assumed I would see her again, and did not know that our July trip to her care center, where we had a barbecue and I was too lazy to climb over the table and hug her, would be the last time I would see her.
I sent an e-mail to be read aloud at her funeral, speaking of how she would always take Dane and me to movies we weren't allowed to see and would give us Pepsi whenever she wanted. Then I never thought about her. Consumed in my own drama, I put my thoughts about her away, knowing I would deal with them again someday.
It is Mother's Day. At 2 in the morning, I was on the toilet having my usual bout of Irritable Bowel Syndrome. It is perhaps wrong to have spiritual experiences on the toilet, but that is where I usually have them, because I am alone with my thoughts or listening to Delilah.
I folded my hands and talked to God. I started sobbing and I said I was sorry for doing this on the toilet, but hopefully He didn't care about stuff about that. I asked him to put Grandma on the line. I don't know what she was doing, but God went to go get her. I wonder what time zone she is in.
And I finally talked to her. I told her I was sorry that I wasn't at her funeral, that I didn't call enough, that I didn't get my driver's license and drive up to see her. She told me it was okay. She asked me how New York was. I told her I was sorry she could never go see it. I told her I was screwing everything up, and she told me that I could still do it, and she always knew she would see my name in lights. I said I was sorry for talking to her while I was on the toilet. I asked her if she ever plays Scrabble in heaven.
Then I knew I would be okay.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Viral Vendredi: Trish vs. Stephanie
In honor of her surprise appearance on Raw Monday night ...
Trish Stratus reflects on her legendary feud with Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley in 2001
Trish Stratus reflects on her legendary feud with Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley in 2001
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Quick Thoughts
I have a lot of thoughts on a lot of things that I don't feel like writing entire entries about, because, really, who would read them? So I will just do a quick play-by-play of what I feel about the world right now. Yes, I stole this from today's episode of Oprah. Don't judge. Also, this is only my opinion, and my opinion is by no means more important than anybody else's. I am doing this out of boredom, and because I typed this while at the laundromat.
The Mariah Wedding:
I admit that I have blind love for Mariah. She could announce plans to do a sequel to Glitter and I would be on board, begging for the part of the hair stylist with a heart of gold. My admittedly odd opinion about Nick Cannon I can save for another rant. I will say that while I wish nothing but rainbows for Mariah, if she did not sign a pre-nup she has been sniffing too much M perfume.
American Idol
Davids finale, with Big David winning. Little David is talented as hell but does the same thing every week. I will take this all back if next week he covers Motley Crue or something.
Election '08
Seriously, if I hear one more person assume that people are only pro-Hilary because she is white and they are racist, or are only pro-Barack because he is black and young in the world of politics, I will blow a gasket. And I don't even really know what a gasket is, and how one blows it, so maybe I should be more cautious about word choice. I am all for a unified dream ticket, because otherwise McCain is going to win like Bush in '04 and we will be in Iraq until the sun explodes.
Barbara Walters
Is a living legend and can say whatever the hell she wants at this point.
Huge Pothole in Brooklyn
Did you hear about this?? There was a pothole in Bay Ridge so big that an SUV almost sank in it (but thankfully, only lost a tire). No wonder I take the subway.
These Dreams
I think the reason that I sleep so much is because my dreams are too vivid. Last night I was with my mother and Aunt Jennifer and we were in Menomonie but staying in this really cute motel, and my room was a single but it had two beds and its own bathroom and I decided that I wanted to LIVE THERE FOREVER. Forget my foolish pipe dreams. Then I ran over Channing Tatum and Ryan Phillippe's feet with a scooter. I don't get it, either.
The Mariah Wedding:
I admit that I have blind love for Mariah. She could announce plans to do a sequel to Glitter and I would be on board, begging for the part of the hair stylist with a heart of gold. My admittedly odd opinion about Nick Cannon I can save for another rant. I will say that while I wish nothing but rainbows for Mariah, if she did not sign a pre-nup she has been sniffing too much M perfume.
American Idol
Davids finale, with Big David winning. Little David is talented as hell but does the same thing every week. I will take this all back if next week he covers Motley Crue or something.
Election '08
Seriously, if I hear one more person assume that people are only pro-Hilary because she is white and they are racist, or are only pro-Barack because he is black and young in the world of politics, I will blow a gasket. And I don't even really know what a gasket is, and how one blows it, so maybe I should be more cautious about word choice. I am all for a unified dream ticket, because otherwise McCain is going to win like Bush in '04 and we will be in Iraq until the sun explodes.
Barbara Walters
Is a living legend and can say whatever the hell she wants at this point.
Huge Pothole in Brooklyn
Did you hear about this?? There was a pothole in Bay Ridge so big that an SUV almost sank in it (but thankfully, only lost a tire). No wonder I take the subway.
These Dreams
I think the reason that I sleep so much is because my dreams are too vivid. Last night I was with my mother and Aunt Jennifer and we were in Menomonie but staying in this really cute motel, and my room was a single but it had two beds and its own bathroom and I decided that I wanted to LIVE THERE FOREVER. Forget my foolish pipe dreams. Then I ran over Channing Tatum and Ryan Phillippe's feet with a scooter. I don't get it, either.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
if you are what you say you are
you are in charge of your own destiny
the only person that can change your life is yourself
if you hate the person you are being
STOP BEING THAT PERSON
wow
on paper this is so easy
ok so maybe this is the plan
work full-time for a year
land on my feet
then do what i wanna do
tomorrow is may 7th
already
may 7th
i am going to have to move in a month
i have nowhere to go
i am stuck
i am molasses
i am jan brady
i dont know why i said i am jan brady
but it was in my head
i am so angry right now
why did erin have to go to france
this is why i am going insane
because i do not have someone to talk to for three hours a day
i turned into someone i did not enjoy
if my life were for rent i would not want to buy it
i love that song
i wonder if it is on my itunes
bitch bitch bitch
i have been a broken record
since september
what the fuck
shut the fuck up
i am so sick of this
i am so over this
i should join a convent
i have no one
there is nothing
it is all me
i have to find the strength
no one can give me it
nobody can make things happen but me
we are responsible in the end
the only person that can change your life is yourself
if you hate the person you are being
STOP BEING THAT PERSON
wow
on paper this is so easy
ok so maybe this is the plan
work full-time for a year
land on my feet
then do what i wanna do
tomorrow is may 7th
already
may 7th
i am going to have to move in a month
i have nowhere to go
i am stuck
i am molasses
i am jan brady
i dont know why i said i am jan brady
but it was in my head
i am so angry right now
why did erin have to go to france
this is why i am going insane
because i do not have someone to talk to for three hours a day
i turned into someone i did not enjoy
if my life were for rent i would not want to buy it
i love that song
i wonder if it is on my itunes
bitch bitch bitch
i have been a broken record
since september
what the fuck
shut the fuck up
i am so sick of this
i am so over this
i should join a convent
i have no one
there is nothing
it is all me
i have to find the strength
no one can give me it
nobody can make things happen but me
we are responsible in the end
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Reflections
Reflections Part One
Last week
After an 80-day countdown
I went back
To Menomonie Wisconsin
I was somebody again
People actually knew who I was
All of the boys looked like models
At Logjam I knew 80% of the bar
I felt alive
And I focused very hard
On being present
Not thinking about "what if"
Or "If only"
I would have left anyway
I had to remind myself
That despite all of the pictures
Of basement party after basement party
And me smiling with my posse
That I was not happy during Year Two
Did they ever know
That between February and April
When I knew I was leaving
But before Brooklyn happened
I went on Amazon.com
Bought three Dashboard Confessional CD's
Sat in the dark for three months
Listening to songs about girls and leaving
I do not know where I will be living
Two months from now
That kind of scares me
I cannot go back to STA
I look at the houses
Where my friends grew up
They have all moved on
Is my life just one big circle?
What if
If only
Blah blah blah
Thursday, May 1, 2008
News & Notes
*Sometime soon, I would like to reflect on my visit to my old school last week. It was truly a blessing, and I worked very hard to be present during it, and not focus on the "What if?" factor. If anything, it cemented the fact that the reason I'm no longer there is because, had I chosen my life's Plan A, I still would have had the lingering doubt in the back of my head that I really wanted to be a writer and performer.
*So with that, the first step to be a successful writer and performer is to get a job doing none of those things, because writing and performing do not pay the bills in their amateur stages. Unfortunately, I cannot apply to any jobs in person right now because I am coughing like a tuberculosis victim. On this I blame either: a) four nights of drinking combined with my poor immune system), b) all of the walking I did in the rain on Monday coming back from the airport, or c) the horrible coughing children on the airplane. That said, I do already have an interview lined up! That's good. It's for a salon that won't open for two more months. That's bad.
*StinkyLulu poses an interesting question about "queer cinema" on one of his latest blogs. I recommend it if you have an opinion of the topic. Check out the link on the top right corner.
*So with that, the first step to be a successful writer and performer is to get a job doing none of those things, because writing and performing do not pay the bills in their amateur stages. Unfortunately, I cannot apply to any jobs in person right now because I am coughing like a tuberculosis victim. On this I blame either: a) four nights of drinking combined with my poor immune system), b) all of the walking I did in the rain on Monday coming back from the airport, or c) the horrible coughing children on the airplane. That said, I do already have an interview lined up! That's good. It's for a salon that won't open for two more months. That's bad.
*StinkyLulu poses an interesting question about "queer cinema" on one of his latest blogs. I recommend it if you have an opinion of the topic. Check out the link on the top right corner.
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