Happy Christmas, Errbody

I have resorted to saying Happy Christmas, because that's how they do it in Harry Potter- and I have decided a Harry Potter world is far better than a Muggl-I mean, our world.

This post is dedicated to loot, looking ahead, and lots of other things that don't begin with "loo". Cindy LooHoo will not be mentioned.

The Winnings:

A sick pair of sunglasses and a sweater from my sister. CA-CHING!

Slippers from grandma

Tons and tons of cute sweaters from Mom (Much appreciated sweaters, clothing was all I really wanted)

One of those sweet dog-ear winter hats to keep me warm in Cuse from my brother

A gift card to Barnes and Noble from my dad

A year-long subscription to Cosmopolitan from my half sister. Somewhat of an accidental gift, as it was a regift because she does not read Cosmo,- but I'll take it!

Looking ahead:

I cannot wait for New Years. Much anticipated boyfriend gift (as well as giving him the amazing gift I have been dying over for weeks) will happen, and that will be a good blog- not to mention I'm going to an actual New Years party with actual people that are not my family. Hallelujah.

I'm also leaving for Connecticut tomorrow. It will be a long, 5 hour trip with my more-annoying-than-ever grandma and my mom, as well as my grandma's piggish like basset hound Fordice (I am not making this up). But I am happy to see my friends, and spend some time with my other sister and her son.

Strange though. This is probaby my last time at this house in Vermont. We moved here exactly two years ago, and I was pissed. I wanted to come home from college, being a second semester freshman, to a HOME. With friends, people I knew, cared about. I knew nobody in Vermont. Everytime I came here I felt lonely.

But I am so happy we moved in retrospect. I spent a lot of time here relaxing, figuring out who I was when nobody was around me to persuade me otherwise, and letting go of some childhood tendencies. It's a beautiful place that doesn't try to be beautiful- doesn't try to make you grow up and get out- it just does.

I'm sure I'll be back here. In about 4 months I'll be back here to help my sister welcome a new life into this world. And I'll be here as a visitor. The place that was only my home for a short period of time will not be home anymore. But it will always be that place that helped me move on when I was a scared college freshman and thought I couldn't handle it. The place that gave me separation from my ex-boyfriend when I needed it most. The place that made my mom happy and at peace with this world.

I suggest everyone take a trip to Burlington at some point. It's really a gorgeous place here.

Merry- no, Happy Christmas

xx

Chronicles (Continued)

I told you I would keep you posted....

Monday afternoon- Wednesday Evening

I have done absolutely nothing.

Tally of Activity:

Movies watched:

He's Just Not that Into You (again)

Josie and the Pussycats

Love Actually

a bit of Slumdog Millionaire

Median Wake Up Time:

1:45 p.m.

Food consumed:

Full turkey dinner

Mom's homemade lasagna

Christmas Cookies

Plenty of Rum Balls to help get me by

Games of solitaire played:

34

Times I have wanted to snap at my grandmother/father/mother/sister/annoying beagle:

2349203598239058239502

Christmas presents bought/left to buy:

3/5

Times I wished I was back in Syracuse:

2349203598239058239503

That's all I've got for now.

Insights and beyond

Ahh, going home for the holidays. That crazy time of year when everyone drops every commitment to get hassled by your family, freak out by gift giving, and eat all the homemade cookies you can stuff in your face. Is it not like that for everyone?

Well, here is a timeline treat about how going home for the holidays is for Frankie Merwin.

Sunday afternoon-

Realize sister's incredibly amazing perk of flying anywhere for free is moot. If Frankie wants to be home by Christmas, or even New Years, it will not be by an airplane. Thus ensues Operation Rescue: my brother and father decide to make the 10 hour treck (5 hours each way) to pick me up in Syracuse and deliver me safely back to Burlington.

Sunday evening-

Casually mention to boyfriend that father and brother will be in town in a few hours, if he is interested in meeting them. Boyfriend startlingly agrees without hesitation. Try desperately to warn said boyfriend, to no avail. Tell boyfriend that I am not worried that my father will be hard to impress or that my father will not like him, but rather I am worried my father will make an ass out of himself and my brother will terrify boyfriend with death threats, and boyfriend will run screaming.

Sunday evening, continued

Father does make an ass out of himself. Decides to bring up my ex-boyfriend and how in love with him I was. Brother starts hysterically laughing. I desperately try to regain any credibility and dignity I could muster.

Besides this snafu, meet-and-greet goes well. We eat at Dorian's, and everyone bonds over movies and making noises out of old video games. Brother and boyfriend even go on 30 minute tangent about music and why each other's tastes in bands absolutely suck.

After dinner, we say our goodbyes. Awkwardly try to have a heartfelt goodbye, but brother and father are staring at us. ugh

Sunday evening, perhaps Monday morning

Arrive in Burlington at about 1 in the morning. Stay up until about 2 a.m. waiting for my sister to get home to see her awesome pregnant belly. The moment arrives- she still looks like she has a 6 pack. I decide that if she is 4 and a half months pregnant, than I am about 6 by comparison. FML.

Finally drift off to sleep around 4. Wake up at 5 to see my mom and the beagle have come to cuddle with me. Life is good.

Today

Wake up around 2:30 in the afternoon. Grandma, who is staying here until Christmas and probably the one person in this world dislike immensely, decides to greet me by bitching about the state of the house. I try to explain to her I just got home last night after not being here for about 5 months, and therefore have no control over how clean this house is. Grandma grumbles and goes off to do whatever it is that angry 87 year old women do.

Spend the rest of the day doing absolutely nothing... and here we are.

Thanks for listening. More chronicles later.

xx

Less than Stellar

Elections came and went... and I lost. Please feel free to leave tons of comments of support and general condolences. I do love the pity parties. ;)

That was mostly a joke, I promise.

I think it's just so amazing how... tired I am. What a draining process. It's possible this tiredness also is coming from a fully day of elections, an evening of drinking and then having to wake up this morning to work for 9 hours at 8 a.m. But maybe it was the elections.

I still love the chapter, I still want to be a brother, but things just feel weird now. I thought people overreacted in the past when they lost at an election- and maybe I am overreacting- but it's hard to deal with the thought of not being on e-board, the thought that a majority did not see you the same way you did. Does that make sense? I'm not leaving the chapter by any means, and I know that it is more than capable hands, but I think I need to reevaluate my place in it a little bit to make things work. To keep myself feeling as happy as I have been lately.

The whole process was/is strange. Strange and draining. I think I might use this semester as a recharge semester. One maybe where I can put college in terms outside of APO. The frat really has been my life- so when I think college I think APO. Maybe I need to separate the two? Move forward? Keep on keeping on?

I don't know. I'm just exhausted. It's all finals, elections, and drama right now. I think it's nap time. And I think break is coming at a very opportune moment.

With a Clear Eye

I'm sitting in the Link Computer lab working on a powerpoint presentation for this Saturday. I finished what I can get done for tonight, but the damn butterflies won't go away. I am nervous- I will admit it. I think I just care so much about this organization, and I care so much about being a part of it, that it is starting to make me nervous thinking about it being in the hands of anyone else. I think time shall tell on that one- in fact, I will know in less than a week.
It is something I can deal with, losing. As long as it means losing to a person who will really do a better job than me. And if that is what my brothers want, then I am okay with it. I will not go inactive or freak out, or disown everything I've worked at. I will keep my head up, because I don't know how not to be a part of the chapter. Weird to think about though.
I think I'm really starting to understand timing. People have their moments- it's a fact of life. I discussed it a little in a prior post and it seems to be a theme of the semester. I really have been having my moment. My friends have become more than best friends, I'm doing more than decently in my classes, I had a great semester with my frat, and I've got this amazing guy to hold and kiss me at the end of the day. And I really don't need anything more than that.
If it is not my moment to take on the head of APO, that means it is someone else's moment, someone who might need it more than I do.

This post is not me giving up. I am working my ass off to become the next president because I want it, and I think I would do the best at the job. I am just ready for anything, and I am ready to prove to the world (okay, not that far) that I want this not because I deserve something good- but because I really care. I really friggin care. And I will fight off nerves and sour thoughts, because that is what it will take. Bring it on, Saturday :)

xx

A Cold Room

Nothing deep was meant by that blog post title. My room is literally freezing. That's what that was all about.

I could talk about, in this blog post, a lot of things.

I could talk about how I just finished a paper I procrastinated on *badly* on childhood beauty pageants- and how I am mildly disgusted with the whole thing.

I could talk about how I feel a little guilty because I saw Star Trek the other night and was fascinated by it- sorry for calling you Trekkies losers.

I could talk about how I am overjoyed with my brand spankin' new boyfriend- how I am being treated legitimately well and how I found someone I can connect so much with. I could talk about that. And trust me, I would.

I could talk about how I am listening to John Mayer's CD finally- and it is living up to what everyone has been saying.

I could talk about how I got a new cellphone- and am more than happy to revert back to the crappiness that is track-phone technology (It's a flip phone!)

I could talk about any one of those things.

Instead, I talk about my cold room.

Goodnight America. Send me your phone numbers :)

The Last Day

It's my last day back home. Tomorrow morning, I will do my epic traveling day again in reverse. Car to Bridgeport. Train to Grand Central. Subways to Queens. Air Train to the airport. Air plane to Syracuse. Car to Butt House. It will be a long, long day, but I am excited.

Every single freaking time I come home, I feel like I revert back to the immature 17 year old I was when I left here three years ago. It's a lot of the same problems, the drama and the general black-holiness that CT life was. I love coming back here to see my friends. To see how we've changed and how we've grown, and to see why I left. I always remember in the last couple of days that there was I reason I went to college so far away. I needed the independence from the area, from the friends and from the old guy.

I can't really talk about being home without touching on that one. There was a guy. A legitimate one. The first love who remains one of my best friends. Coming home, I have to revert to my past self and I feel like I am back in that high school relationship. Now, being under a mildly different relationship status, I had to deal with that and deal with the fact that this was really the absolute end. We had the talk, and decided to make the necessary changes to the relationship that needed to be made. It was so healthy, so growing and just entirely too necessary. I'm glad for that.

This was the last day for a lot of things. My family is moving back to Connecticut, so I no longer will be here as a visitor in the future. I will no longer be part of the high school relationship, but the "ex girlfriend." I will have to stop reverting back to who I was and really start to show everyone here who I am now. It's strange.

I had tons of fun here with my friends. But I am so excited to get back to school and continue moving forward.

Juice was Worth the Squeeze

I know, I know. Stealing a line from The Girl Next Door probably is a weird way to start out a blog entry, but I liked that movie and I loved that line. Hard work equals better results. Nothing could have proved that to me more than this weekend.

I can remember last year at exactly this time. I felt extremely jealous of a friend of mine who seemed to have the stars in her life align at just the same moment. As this person was one of my best friends, I felt horrible. I didn't know how to put my own selfish aims away and just be happy for my friend. It was hard. I decided to make it a private goal to start being more self-less.

Now, I don't know how well that translated to other people, but I have felt a change since this time last year. I have always been a happy person- but now I am not only happy for myself, but happy for the lives of my amazing friends around me. For my friends who get to see their boy/girl friends when they go home this weekend, for my best ginger friend who turned 21 AND will get to see her boyfriend, for a woman who is getting the attention she deserves from an amazing semester, to my sister who is really growing up, to everyone. I'm living vicariously through their happiness, and that makes it better than anything.

I have to say, it's been an amazing semester for me. The stars in my life finally seem to be aligning all at once this year, and I'm glad I have grown up enough and learned enough to appreciate that for all it's worth. The juice was definitely worth the squeeze.

20Ness

Sitting in political communication class not paying attention. This is one of those classes that seems to do little more than waste my time, but oh well. I will use this as valuable blogging time.

On that note, I am probably going to divide my regular blog and my sex, love and relationship blog. I keep wanting to discuss my own personal life on top of the other blog, so it just makes sense.

Turning 20 was a blast. I couldn't have had a better birthday. My friends continue to show me nothing but love, and that's really all I ever wanted. With a grand total of 4 cakes, 6 cards, 1 bottle of tequila and about 15 birthday pecks, I think things went pretty well.

I really have started to make moves that I think are for the overall betterment of my life- as opposed to the moves I make for temporary happiness. I've started thinking more long term, more about the things in my life that I really want, as opposed to the things that I want just for right now. Being this emotionally healthy is mildly terrifying, but I guess that's what maturity is.

I've got some good karma right now, and I am trying to make the most of it. I am excited to see where some things in my life go, and totally friggin nervous for the rest of it. Wish me luck I suppose.

xx

p.s. Update your damn blogs or I'm stopping.

Out of One Phase and Into Another

Taking a quick break from the now norm of this blog. I like to throw you all for loops sometimes to see who's really paying attention.

This time tomorrow, I am going to be a full fledged adult. No longer a teenager. Birthdays are always about change, about maturity. About growing up and moving on. And this one is particularly scary in that way. Sure, I have done a lot of maturing in the past couple of months. I have a real life, a real life job, an apartment to pay for, things to take care of, a life to lead. I've had a ton of responsibility in both classes and in APO. And I guess you could say all of that is growing up. On paper, I will be no more of an adult tomorrow than I am already today. So why does it feel like tomorrow, everything is just going to feel... older?

I think it is just luck that most of these things are happening at the same time that I exit my teenage years. I've been thrown quite a few personal curve balls recently that I just don't think I would have had the hutzpah to handle a couple of years (dare I say months?) ago. And it's all really happening. Whether I am turning 20 or not.

That said, there are a few specific goals I have for this year and beyond. Call it my new year resolutions. And why wait until December 31st to make them?

1. Keep my room clean for a week

I am the type of person that cleans often, lets things get horribly messy, then cleans them again. NO more! I am a big adult woman. I will do my laundry and put it in designated baskets, instead of what I do now- which is casually throw the clothes i try on into a pile at the foot of my bed and wait for it to go away.

2. Start writing more

Not so much my blog, sorry to disappoint. But my poems and short stories. it is just something that makes me happy, and I always seem to be too busy watching old Law and Order: SVU episodes to do it.

3. Start budgeting my money better

-Far too much of my budget goes to Chinese food delivery and not enough goes to buying everyday necessities- and a professional wardrobe.

4. Make more decisions on the Logical Frankie side of my Brain

I am an impulsive person, I will admit that. But far too much, I think with my heart and not my head. I need to start balancing the two, as opposed to the Angel-Devil Id-Superego scenario that is happening right now.

5. Start actively participating in the lives of those I care about.

The key word here is actively. I do participate in the lives of the people I love, but I never seem to make the first move- to take the risk and make the call. I have to do that now. Too many people I love need me, and I don't want to let then down if I can avoid it.

Five is enough for now. Any other suggestions?

xx

With this Ring

I went to a wedding this weekend, as a lot of you know. It was gorgeous, and actually the first real wedding I had ever been to. Of course, I got nice and emotional and teary at points, and the couple is one of those couples you are so sure is going to be with each other forever to a point where it's sickening, and that was amazing. Watching them get married was just so right and so real, I loved it.

It made me think about commitment a lot. Ask someone today what kind of relationship they're in or looking for and they'll probably say, "It's complicated."

Love their significant other, but they're not "The One"

The significant other is "The One" but they're scared

Not ready to be tied down

Not ready to settle down

Not ready to settle

Living the single life

Living the closeted gay life

Looking for a one night stand

Looking for a sex buddy

Looking for a "Kind of sort of significant exclusive non-exclusive other"

We're together. We're dating. We're in love. We're seeing each other.

I had an ex once say to me we were "existing" while we were exclusively dating. There's so many terms- so many ways to bring yourself out and keep yourself safe. To keep one foot out of it. Everyone is so damn afraid that they cannot even take the time to realize that maybe we should take out all of the funny words and confusing lingo- and just start communicating with each other.

So as I celebrate two of my friends taking the plunge this week, I vote we all try being honest with ourselves, and with the people we care about. Communicate. Give a hug?

xx

Young and All Around Stupid

Mirroring off a friend of mine's blog, I am a strong believer in fate. Timing, circumstance, kairos (there's a $50,000 a year word!), all of it. I think we are meant to discover certain things, learn certain ideas and feel certain emotions. I think we get choice in how we interpret our fate. How we choose to let these crucial moments play a part in our lives. I always say that people should never let "life happen to them", and when I say that I mean never let fate get the best of you. Try, interpret, learn and be happy. Make mistakes.

I went home this weekend and had some heart to hearts with some people I'm close with here. One of them was telling me about how she is back with her boyfriend on a "friends with benefits" type level. Mind you an ex-boyfriend who her whole family/friend group hates immensely, and who caused her much more emotional pain than I had ever seen her in. We were all so happy when she had finally gotten the courage to end it with him, and told her she was better off. And here she is now, still entertaining the idea of him, still making the mistake. She even said that to me. "Let me make my own mistakes. I know it is, but I'm okay with that. I'm the one who has to live with it at the end of the day."

Forget my views on friends with benefits for the moment. Different post for a different day. But what about her "let me make my own mistakes" outlook? I know I have shared those views before. Stayed in relationships I knew were wrong, dated people my friends and family could not stand, had summer flings that would never really make me happy- and I just viewed it as me being young and stupid. I saw it as me making a mistake, experiencing something new, getting burned, but gaining experience.

The key is I don't know if I can really sit here and say these bad decisions bettered me. I don't know if I could say I learned a valuable lesson and the older I get, the less willing I am to screw shit up. I don't think I regret any of it though. Making spontaneous and stupid is just part of who I am- and I know it's part of who my friend is. We're just like that. It's possible these mistakes just help us hone just how spontaneous and stupid we can be, and what we can get away with. We're testing the limits of ourselves- we're just doing it through a relationship.

So that is what I mean. It's not about the experiences themselves, but what you take out of them. Whether you choose to better yourself as a person, teach yourself a lesson, or just continue to be young and stupid. I think I'll choose option C for a while.

Your Lovin Gives Me a Thrill, But Your Lovin Don't Pay My Bills...

I've left you all waiting in anticipation for far too long. A blog about sex, dating, friendship quarrels, etc.? I'm sure you're all excited. Without further ado...

Do you have any idea how many of life's problems revolve around money?

I've been a broke college student bordering on 2 and a half years now, and a broke regular person for the other 17 years. And it is a matter of shock and awe to realize how many of my problems would be solved if I had some cash. Okay, I'm not saying money solves all problems. Look at all these train wreck celebrities and million dollar murders. But really.

A good friend of mine's boyfriend just offfered to wire her money "for the little things- just in case." He didn't want her to feel like money was a problem, and took it upon himself to show her how much he cared. She accepted, and the money was sent. She saw it as her guy taking care of her and being a respectable man. Though we joke about it, is this okay? Would we want that held over our heads? Is this... whoring? ha-ha

What about that time I went to a sex shop with an ex and didn't have the cash to afford the real champion products? I will admit home-made could probably suffice in this category, but nonetheless, I walked out disappointed. This disappointment usually only came after sex- NOT before, so that was upsetting by itself. And hey, couldn't this be considered a damper on my sex life? Experimentation= bonding with your partner. Better sex life= happier people. Look at that, I just dicked myself over by not being able to afford edible underwear. You are a cruel, cruel world.

And for those of you souls in long distance relationships- money is the constant Catch. You have to worry about paying for flights/other transportation, phone bills, new outfits, activities while your visiting/everything else when you see your long lost lover- and all of that could add up. I feel like a lot of the time long distance relationships don't work, it is because someone decides that the effort is not worth the reward- and the relationship is caput. Maybe it's just a better way of determining whether you are happy in the relationship or not early on, or maybe it kills the relationship before you even had a chance to start.

Throw some back at me. I want this new blog to be more reader focused as well. Tell me your own experiences and how money has played a role in your love lives. Post anonymously for the pansies and prudes out there...

Frankie

xxx

P.S. This blog was only half serious. Don't get too offended.

Changing My Angle

I'm considering revamping this blog. Instead of the meaningless day to day thoughts I have, I was thinking I might turn it into a blog with focus. Maybe dating/sex focused. My own little crappy attempt at being the next Carrie Bradshaw. I feel like I have enough drama in my own love life, and enough drama in the love life of friends, and enough drama that I hear on the streets and could totally illegally write about it, where it might not be that bad of an idea. If I can't do enough with the dating/sex thing, I might add personal relationships too.

People always say to write what you know/care about, and let's be honest: I care about three things: Sex, Celebrity Gossip and Food. Since no one wants to hear about my celebrity gossip addictions (Brian Littrell of BSB fame has swine flu!) and just because I care about food doesn't mean I know anything about it. But I think interpersonal relationships might be my strong point. So there that is.

I'm probably going to use pseudonyms and not clarify 100% of the time exactly who I am talking about as to protect identities, I think it'll be a good idea.

So send your stories over. Let me know so I can develop some good angles. Love you all. Let's get steamy :)

All Things Considered

I'm going to start by saying it is very hard to keep up my blog when no one else is updating theirs... so do that. Everyone. It's getting lonely in my brand spankin new google reader.

How amazing is it to see a culmination of efforts? How wonderful is it to have physical proof that you did a good job at something? An A on a paper, an event coming together, anything. I felt that incredibly this weekend, with the Inductions ceremony for APO. Hard work, nervous break downs, all culminated in one flawless (almost) evening.

It made me think about all the times when the hard work doesn't get appreciated. When people are lightly thanked, casually ignored, or forgotten completely. If you really think about all the bits and peices of your day that make it run smoothly, all the effort that is put into you just waking up in the morning, you become so much more appreciative of what's going on around you. Who figured out your cell charger? Who is checking the water filtering in your bath water? Who restocked that vending machine last night? It goes on.

It takes a lot. When I'm not terrified about our world, or the state of our economy, I like to think of all the amazing people out there and everything they do for me. Nice distraction in case we all blow up someday, right?

Songs to listen to:

tegan and sarah- where does the good go

jason derulo- whatcha say (frou frou remixed well)

website to check out:

peopleofwalmart.com

Ing Point Break

I don't really know how to word what I have been feeling recently. How to write down the stressed out, yet laid-back, terrified and reckless, overtired and over lovey feelings I've had the last couple of weeks.

Welcome to junior year, maybe?

When is enough, enough? When do we all reach breaking points and decide to keep falling off the edge or pull ourselves back up victoriously. I feel like a lot of things in my life are reaching that sort of breaking point. This period where I have to start making real decisions and choices that will inevitably be the wrong ones. That was a joke. It's weird how many things in my life feel like they need to be acted upon or dismissed, and I know it's not just me.

A friend of mine from back home got in trouble on two many times, and is now looking at a grim future because he kept pride but ditched freedom. How does someone even make choices like that?

An ex of mine keeps creeping back into the picture and I do nothing to prevent it from happening, despite the ginormous error I know it would be. Despite my better judgment, I still act and I still allow.

A friend of mine who holds up the largest barriers finally broke down the other night in the worst possible way- just because they were sick of it.

Even when it comes to this overwhelming rush process. I think I hit it last night, and then there was a little part of me that gave up. That sounds awful, I know. But it was a necessary transaction so I could keep morsels of my dignity and sanity.

But really, I feel like we have these moments where we just feel overwhlemed. Where we know it's time to decide, to give up or to change. Sometimes it's not as easy as it sounds, and it might take years to happen. But I think it's kind of inevitable.

HAPPY!

A Moment to Gloat

For my Rebellious Writing class this semester, we had to look at the Black Panthers' 10 Point Platform. This document is basically a list of demands that the party wants from government and from the public. Our assignment this weekend was to make our own 10 Point Platform for something we really cared about. This is all I could come up with:

10 Point Platform for Awkward People

1. We want to be acknowledged for other attributes besides our awkwardness, such as our ability to do outrageous and seemingly impossible math problems.

2. We want to be taken seriously by members of the opposite sex. It's bad enough we can hardly talk to them.

3. We want people to be aware that we do try hard to be socially adequate, but it is sometimes an impossible mission.

4. We want full credit for such great minds as Bill Gates and Woody Allen. Heck, even Quentin Tarrantino.

5. We want the population to be aware that without us, the awkward comedy of Juno and I Love You, Man would be impossible.

6. We want people who are not socially awkward to stop pretending they are socially awkward. We do not appreciate such mocking.

7. We want socially awkward people to realize that though drugs or alcohol may help socially awkward situations, they do not cure them.

8. We want literary minds to rename "awkward sentence structure" to something more fitting. Most of us are quite adept at writing papers that are grammatically sound. This error hardly suits us.

9. We don't want Urkel.

10. We want more group and individual pride. Socially awkward people must unite in order to make this world a more tolerable place- one "Sorry, I was actually waving at the person behind you" at a time.

I thought it was pretty funny. I guess I'm passionate about few things that matters in life. C'est la gere, as my father used to say. The equivalent to C'est La Vie- instead of "Such is Life" it means "Such is Death."

I would also like to point out that I can no longer sleep late. I have pathetically become my worst nightmare over night: I went to bed at midnight. On a Saturday. And woke up at 9. Oh well. I've got Juice Jam today and Ryan this afternoon. I'm too excited to sleep. Not to mention my severe awkwardness.

xxx

A Whirlwind

I apologize for the lengthy time that has passed since my last post. I am going to go with the cliché "I've been very busy with classes/work/Rush and therefore neglected my blog."

Yeah, b.s., but sadly true.

It's been a sad, sorry past couple of days. I'm over-exaggerating, but kind of. I officially apologize for quietly sneering when past VPR's had nervous breakdowns over planning rush. I now know that I was a fool, and I should have been nicer.

Not to mention it was sort of a shitty weekend. I had issues with guys, friends and tolerance. (Keg stands, anyone? Never again).

Here's a list in honor of whatever.

Let's Look at the Bright Side of Things!

1. Juice Jam is Sunday.

Not only am I going to get to see Jack's Mannequin, which has been one of my favorite bands since I was a sophomore in high school (I know, lame emo girls unite), but Ryan is coming up! So I get to listen to one of my favorite bands with one of my best friends. I'll take it.

2. Rush is almost over

Okay, not really. But the end of the September is not that far away and this is all I can tell myself to keep from going into catatonic shock.

3. I'm acing my classes.

Well I'm not failing any yet, so I'm counting that as a win for myself.

4. ........

5. ...

That's all I've got. I'm a horrible blogger.

I Would Like Your Digits

Tomorrow is the first day of classes. I am excited, and also confused. What the hell happened to summer? It really did fly by, and I can't believe tomorrow I will be getitng the syllabi and the schpeils. Craziness.

I spent the last few days exactly how I wanted to spend them. When I wasn't working, I spent every moment I could with my friends. Catching up, planning for the school year and learning that I am basically the one in my group that is still single. JOY!

I'm currently at Goldstein doing laundry, as my landlord is a douche and doesn't seem to care our laundry machine is broken. Whilst Facebook stalking old flames and new, Royce told me that I have a type. I was confused. I've dated a bunch of people and though they do seem to have similar qualities, I didn't really think I could qualify them under a type. To prove this to myself, I stalked a little more and popped up a whole bunch of Facebook windows. It was the scariest thing I have ever seen. They not only looked eerily similar, but they also looked like they could be brothers. Inwardly freaking out, I then discovered they all had similer interests, past times and music tastes.

The one thing that really bothers me about this, is I wonder if I am persuing the same guy over and over again. The first guy I ever liked that was under that type- am I just looking for him again? Is that a futile search? Or is it one of those weird primal instinct kind of things? Confusing.

The Waiting Game

In a few hours, some of my best friends that I haven't seen in months will be in my apartment, drinking and hanging out just like any SU night. I'm excited, nervous (even though we kept the guest list small I don't want my apartment getting trashed) and I just really feel like summer is over.

I felt it a lot the other night when I had my last night at the restaurant. Sure the actual job itself wasn't very summery- but it was a summer mindset. I was carefree and flippant about friendships and the work environment. I knew it was temporary, I knew it was fading, and I didn't really care. Most of the time, I never really felt like I acted like myself when I was there. I just put on the smile, sat the people, made small talk and went home. It's hard to explain, but it was provisional.

The Dome work has been long and stressful, and seriously emotional. It's hard to not be yourself when you are there most of the time, and I can't really tell how much I like that. We are surrounded by no one but each other 80% of the time in a seriously hot arena doing mostly horrifyingly boring busy work for 12 hours straight. You get frustrated, tired, and just on edge. Not to mention it's been a chaotic week anyways- as I have been attempting to find student loans and get ready for the semester.

But anyways, I'm excited for the evening. I missed my friends, and I need SOMEthing in my life. Some drama, excitement, change and good spontaneous fun. And my friends are always good for that. It's going to be a hard semester, work wise and school wise. But I feel good things for myself. I've got a lot to work on with myself, and I'm finally learning how to do so.

Sorry if this post was rambling, I of course got ready an hour before scheduled. At least I wasted some time. Woot! Let's get drunk (just kidding mom, if you read this).

A Note on the Crumbling of 21st Century Psychological Prowess

mike is a whore.

comments? questions? concerns?

STD complaints?

Obligatory

What I'll Miss Most About Summer:

1. Taking Public Transportation Every Damn Day

I won't really miss this that much, but I cannot deny it was an eye opening experience. SU is really such a damn college bubble. The city is a grimy, dirty and scary place filled with grimier, dirtier and much scarier people. Oh well, at least I don't feel like an ignorant college kid anymore.

2. Nightly BFF time with Mickey

Okay, I'm still going to hang out with Mickey during the semester, don't get me wrong. But I will miss the literal NIGHTLY hang out sessions, usually after I got out of work and was probably horrible smelling and pissed off. Thanks for dealing with me mickers.

3. The Quietness of SU's campus

It is absolutely ridiculous how much this place changes when it is not bursting with life. It felt peaceful, lonely and surreal. I am fearful that when everyone gets back I'm going to get really overwhelmed with the amount of life around me, and superly overprotective of campus to the point where I become a crazy bag lady. I guess that was bound to happen anyways.

4. Wearing clothing that didn't involve layers.

Syracuse is actually a fucking boiling pot. Who knew? I figured it out when I was required to wear all black (for various jobs) basically EVERY DAY in 90 degree weather. However, it was better than a down jacket and long jonhs- my winter outfit.

5. Tweeting to make my life sound more interesting.

By no means am I done with my Twitter. but I worry my tweets will be more informative than crazy and emo and well thought out, as I will actually have things to talk about. For instance, "Going out with the girls!" Instead of "A skunk committed suicide outside of my window. What does that even mean?"

What I'm Looking Forward To Next Semester:

1. Royce Coming Back, Hell, everyone coming back

Though I love my summer crew, I can't wait until my real friends come back (ha-ha). And let's face it, I suck living on my own. I miss my roommate. I miss talking to things that actually talked back.

2. Not working at the Restaurant anymore

Okay, I didn't completely hate it. The place was definitely a learning experience, to say the least. I liked, and will miss, a lot of the people who work there and the 15% discount was decent. I think it was just the whole, "It sucked the soul and happiness out of my life and made me a racist pessimist" thing.

3. APO

If I don't kill myself attempting to plan rush, it's going to be a damn good year for us. I'm excited about the e-board, and hopefully I will take on another little. (Not to mention those non-APO affiliated parties are pretty friggin kickass)

4. Being an Upperclassman

Though I'm terrified that I'm more than half-way done with college, I'm pretty ready to be seen as a big kid. Plus, I can start planning career goals without the pressure of a senior, start slacking off because my core requirements are pretty much out of the way, and yell FRESHMENNN when I drunkenly walk down Euclid.

5. Getting Back to the Grind

The best thing (and worst thing) about summer is that it's fleeting. As relaxing and recharging as it is, it's got a shelf life. And this summer reached it. I had a great one, not because of my location but because of the people here with me. When I told people I had the option of staying in Syracuse or going home to Vermont (where I knew no one), people seemed dumbfounded when I said I wanted to stay here. But it's the people who make a place, not the scenery. ((lame))

10 Signs I Need to Get Laid

A few days ago, I posted a link on my Twitter page to a Cosmo article. Initially when I posted the link I planned on writing in the blog about my changed view of Cosmo. I thought the article was crappy, untrue and a little degrading. My opinions have since changed.

A preview:

10 Signs You Are Way Too Good for Him

Here at Cosmo we kinda hate to see fabulous women dating total d-bags — something we’ve been obsessing about even more since seeing MTV’s hot new show, Is She Really Going Out with Him? So we created this loser cheat sheet: If your “new guy” exhibits any of these not-so-redeeming qualities...well, just don’t say we didn’t warn you.

That's just the headline and catch line. The article goes on to explain how every guy that cries during movies to the guy that has dated your close acquaintances (can we say, player?) should be shot and killed immediately. But it does, in an earnest and sarcastic way, make you go back and think about the people you've dated.

To be honest, I think the most screwed up thing about the article, the thing that really makes me furious, is that I'VE DATED ALL OF THESE GUYS. Okay, maybe not exactly all of them, but the qualities ring true in a good number of my exes. And maybe it is some sort of psychological issue that I seriously need to address in therapy, but I never really saw any of them as "losers".

Something I've realized a lot about myself recently is that I am a person who is constantly looking for the good in others. I absolutely refuse to accept that there are just plain bad people out there. Call me green, color me an idiot, but it is a philosophy that gets me by. The thing is, I do this in relationships too. I could be dating Mr. Douchebag 2009 and I will still appreciate his seldom good deeds.

Is this a flaw? Do I need to take off the rose colored glasses and start looking for people who match none of the qualities on the article's list? Or should I stick to my less than stellar dating history and look for the good guy locked inside the one who is no good for me?

I really don't know. But thanks Cosmo, maybe I need to start thinking about it.

My Bucket List

I am mad at myself.

For stagnation.

It's ridiculous. I've been on this path for myself- not one that was forced upon me by my parents, or by society, but one which I created at a much too young age. I was sure about it- I wrote about it in a previous blog. I wanted the cool NYC apartment, the cool job, the unbelievably perfectly sweet/handsome/dorky boyfriend- basically, the Cosmo! lifestyle.

I'm not even saying I don't still want that lifestyle. My fascination with all things sex/beauty/celebrity combined with a love of writing has actually proven this dream could be a reality. In fact, I am seriously considering applying to jobs at Conde Nast and Hearst and maybe becoming that Cosmo woman.

But I never really stopped and considered anything else. I had this conversation tonight with Mickey and Noah about travelling, and living the dream. The boys' dreams had a little too much California surfing and beach bunnies for my taste, but I started thinking of my own. I have long wanted to go to Australia at some point in my life- and I am now determined to make that a reality. I'm thinking I might apply for jobs there after senior year and just try living there, and trying my luck with foreign press. Still in the early stages- but something I'm thinking about it.

In order to give myself some direction. So without further adieu....

Frankie's "Bucket List"

1. Travel to Australia and Venice

Australia is the dream. Venice I want to go to with my dad. He's always talked about going, and I would love to see it.

2. Swim in the Pacific

Unacceptable, right? I haven't even been west of Pennsylvania.

3. Learn how to cook very well

I love Lean Cuisine and Barilla as much as the next girl, but....

4. Go up in a hot air balloon

Blame Up! And I need to cure my fear of heights.

5. Own a Shar Pei

Say what you will. One day, one of those wrinkly little bastards will be mine!

6. Live in NYC for at least a year

I need to be fiercely independent. I also need to learn how to accept humanity in all forms.

7. Own a Nissan Altima

This should be unsurprising to anyone who has had at least one conversation with me.

8. See a Broadway play

Also unacceptable. I won't be picky, but I need to see at least one.

9. Get drunk off of Champagne

I like the idea of a "Classy Blackout"

10. Get something I've written published.

Ideally it would be my poetry, but we'll see how ballsy I get.

11. Dance to Frank Sinatra with a man I really love.

Michael Bublé will suffice as well. I guess I do still have a romantic side left in there.

Please post your own. I would love to read them.

Crashing

Writing with the ominous thought of working in 6 and 1/2 hours. Totally not even tired. I feel as if this blog is becoming more of a day-by-day sleep journal opposed to a deep and compelling piece of literature.

Oh well, what are you going to do?

For anyone in the area, you'll have noticed we've been hit with a series of terrible thunderstorms. I don't know how many out there hate them or love them. I love them for the sounds and the excitement, hate them for the driving and the unfortunate fact that everyone comes in to eat at a restaurant when it's storming. As I have not been at work and I don't really drive very much, the thunderstorms shouldn't really be bothering me. But they have been.

Ever since I was little, there was a little part of me that was terrified of thunderstorms. It would be me and my dog, hiding out under my bed or desk, camping out until the storm passed. My brother and sister would laugh and make fun of me while I cowered worse than the dog and they would stand outside and dance in the rain.

I decided to dance in the rain one day- it must have been about 6 summers ago. I was home alone in the old house in Connecticut, and I thought I should conquer my fear. I wanted to go out and appreciate the natural beauty of nature- to see what the big fuss was all about. To realize that the things that scare you the most are the things that are usually most worthwhile to do.

I stood out for about 5 minutes before I ran back inside. I'm still scared shitless of thunderstorms.

Ommit

Well, I'm leaving tomorrow morning, bright and early (my day of travelling will begin at 7:30 and the bus will get into Syracuse around 4:30. If I can't get someone to pick me up, I will have to wait for a bus until approximately midnight, so there's that.

It's been a lot of fun here. I didn't even get frustrated and pissed off until this evening, and that was only because my mom and I were doing the endlessly horrifying task of applying for a $14,000 loan with no decent cosigner. Shoot me. We've still had no luck, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I figure even if I can't afford to pay for next year, I'll still have the apartment so I will just party with everyone and chill in the cubicle anyways. Like I do anything else besides that anyways.

In more blog worthy news, I talked to a reallllly old friend of mine tonight. I mean, we're talking ties since middle school. He was one of my first "boyfriends" (I think our relationship consisted of holding hands and maybe even pecking once- give me a break, it was seventh grade) and we remained really close afterwards. He dealt with a lot of issues in high school and got involved in kind of a bad scene, so we just sort of slowly lost contact. I don't think I had heard from him in about a year when I randomly got a call from an unrecognized number this evening. He's involved in a program to get stuff back together, and making amends with me was a part of it. It was so great to talk to someone I hadn't realized I'd missed as much as I had, and amazing to hear that I still mattered that much to him. We talked about all the random nonsense, caught up and reminisced. And I thought Wow, this is a person who said, "Fran, we're going to be friends. You know you're going to get a call from me in 10 years and it'll be like nothing's change." And here we are.

Things have changed, obviously. I don't think either of our lives went where we thought they were going to go in seventh grade, and the both of us have probably effed up our lives enough that our seventh grade selves feel like forever ago, but it was true. We are still close, and we are both starting to see the silver lining.

Maybe going back to Syracuse tomorrow won't be so bad.

The Sweetness

I came home to Burlington two nights ago, and it's been pretty great so far. The fights have been minimal, the sun has been shining, and it's just really good to be with the family. Not to mention it's lovely to actually have food in the cabinets. And to have someone respond when I talk to myself. I guess living on my own has been starting to get to me.

The first night I got here, mom, Liz and I went out to the Vermont Pub and Brewery for some good food. Mom had a few margaritas and got really drunk and sufficiently entertaining. Liz drank a bit too, so I was the designated driver. Normally, I would hate this but my mom was hillarious. She is the loviest drunk I have ever met. I finally understand where I get my "friendliness" from. We stayed at the restaurant for hours just talking and relaxing.

Yesterday, my sister, her friend Becky and her boyfriend Jarett and I went to the beach, and then a Vermont Lake Monsters game. Tell me, is that not the most sexual name EVER for a minor, minor league baseball team? Lake Monsters? No?

Then tonight, we celebrated my dad's birthday- which was actually yesterday but he had to work- and went to a restaurant called Souza's. Let me just say OH MY GODDD. It's this Brazilian Steakhouse where they have this unbelievable appeteizer bar and soup courses, and then they come around with skewers with every sort of meat you could possibly imagine- 14, FOURTEEN, kinds of meat. You take what you want and it just keeps coming. Filet mingon, turkey and Vermont Maple bacon, shrimp, pork chops, I could go on. And then there's a desert table. Best. Meal. Ever. After that we went out to the lakfront just to catch the sunset, it was beautiful.

We might be moving from Burlington (long story for a different blog) but I am going to miss this place. It has made my family so much closer, and it is just a genuinely gorgeous place. I feel at home here.

Okay sorry that was a long one. Off to have some drinks, maybe play some Scrabble?

When the Sleep Schedule Gets Screwed..

I woke up at 9 today. Me, the girl who stays up till 4 and usually can sleep well past breakfast and even lunch, woke up at 9. On my own. I'm going to take a guess and say something's going on in my head to make this happen. I can't remember the last time I woke up at 9 on my own.

I'm hoping that it's just excitement over going home. It's funny. Last year around this time, I was dying to get out of Burlington and get back to Syracuse- to go home. This year, it's the opposite. I feel stuck in Cuse and am dying to go home to Burlington. I guess I'm one of those "always want what I can't have" kind of people. Or I just miss my family tremendously. I know I took my family for granted bad last summer, but this is ridiculous. Luckily, the parents got facebook so now I can stalk them and miss them virtually. Sad I probably stalk my mom on facebook more than anyone else.

It has been a learning summer. I feel like I'm finally mastering the art of independence and self sufficiency- yet I'm still realizing how much I really depend on other people. I'm finally realizing that there is a difference between what I want and what I need- not just with money but with friendships and relationships. Finally understanding that there are parts of me that are more complex than I originally thought, and being okay with that.

In less than a month, my friends will be back, my classes will have resumed, my mall work will be over and my dome work will have commenced- the responsibilities will increase and so will the partying. I'm happy I've had this time to settle in, to think about what living on my own really means and to grow on my own.

I want my family, I want my friends back, I want to go back to the grind. But here's to one last month of growth and summer. One more month of going to bed late and waking up late- if my body will let me.

Living Life to the Max

I just spent the last hour or two perusing the website of none other than Tucker Max. He's the guy who wrote the book "I Hope they Serve Beer in Hell". I've been casually reading it every time I take the bus in to work and inevitably arrive 10 hours before my shift actually starts. If you haven't heard of him, he's the guy who drank you under the table and then cursed you out, slept with you and not only didn't call you the next day- but ditched you immediately post coitus, or got you kicked out of a Denny's/McDonald's/other highly-Americanized chain that really needn't have to kick people out.

Basically, he's a fucking asshole- and he is really proud to admit it.

An excerpt from "The Absinthe Donuts Story"

10:20: We station ourselves in the kitchen. A fat girl walks in. It's game time. "Well, say goodbye to all the leftovers."

10:21: Apparently, this fatty seems to think she can hang. The Medina Division made better tactical decisions:

Fatty "What did you say?"
Tucker "Can you not hear me? Are your ears fat too?"
Fatty [Look of astonishment, stares at my friends cracking up] "EXCUSE ME?"
Tucker "I'm sorry. Really I am. [I open the fridge] Would you like cheesecake or chocolate cake? Probably both, I'm guessing."
Fatty [Turns and leaves in utter astonishment]
Tucker "Hey Sara Lee, I was only kidding! COME BACK HERE--MY FRIEND LIKES TO GO HOGGIN. MORE CUSHION FOR THE PUSHIN! IT'S LIKE RIDING A MOPED!!"

Tucker has arrived.

Okay, I should probably hate this guy. We all should. But I seriously respect him. He just OWNS it. I'm not saying that I like him, and though the dickish behavior is slightly alluring to me (Long, psychological fucked up story for a different night), I definitely would never give this dude the time of day. But he knows what he's doing, what he wants, and he does/gets it. And I'm really cool. Mildly sucks he devotes the talents to getting seriously drunk and having sex with tons of women, and not doing something more... socially acceptable? But hey, he's got a law degree so all I can do is give him my props and let it go.

Check the website out here. Happy readings.

From My Little Ponies to My Idiotic Life

When I was around six or seven years old, I always used to tell my dad about my life plan. I'm not sure if it was because he asked, or because I was eager to let someone know about my ambitions. I told him I would go away to school, have my own fabulous apartment where I would have my dog Sunny (then just a puppy) for company, and then get married by about 22, right when I graduated college. We'd move into our beautiful house and there I'd be. Poppin' out kids and happy.

It's strange to see how much of this has materialized, how much won't, how much of it might, and how much I don't even want anymore. I am living in my own apartment- fabulous for the sole reason that it is mine- and I am in college now. Sunny's safe at home (thanks for keeping him in your thoughts) so I guess a lot happened that I wanted.

As far as the whole being married by the time I'm 22? Hardy-har-har. Make the jokes, I can take the insults. But really, the age I saw as so freaking old when I was a kid is looming closer and closer. And the chances of me being married in less than three years are about as likely as the "awesome girl band" I had when I was about 11 named "Sugar Girls" (guess what that was in reference to?) becoming famous. It's not even that I would want that to happen. I was thinking about it the other day, and I'm just nowhere near that, because I'm not done with being an idiot.

In some horrible self deprecating way, I really mean that. I'm not done with making stupidly spontaneous decisions, having awkward morning-afters (let's be honest, I haven't really had one of those), kissing strangers, getting first date butterflies- any of it. This is the one time in my life where I can get away with the stupidity of it all. I'm not entirely sure if this makes me immature, or right on par with my age group, but it's true.

I've just got some different plans now.

in the midnight hour..

more like 2 a.m. I've been having some serious issues sleeping lately. I don't know if it's a loneliness thing, a "I need to watch Lost until my eyes can literally no longer stay open" thing or something else entirely. I don't hate it, exactly. People with Normal Sleep Schedules always say, "How can you sleep in so late? Don't you feel like you're wasting your day?" And all I really want to say to them is, "Don't you feel like you're wasting your night?" Granted, nothing exciting or amazing is happening now, but I still enjoy the late hour.

The best to me was when I would stay up reading (I know, I know, I was and still am a dork, let's put it behind us) until the early hours of the morning. I haven't done this since high school, and I miss it. There is nothing like being so enveloped in a book that you "awake away the night". That was my lame attempt at trying to make the opposite of the phrase "sleep away the day".

I took Mickey to Borders today to introduce him to the lovely world of PostSecret. For those of you who don't know what that is, and I assume you all have been living under a rock, the link can be found here. That is something that could keep me up all night. Those books give me such peace and hope. There is something so beautiful about the entire project, and I personally think Frank Warren is a genius. I saw one today that said, "I don't remember the day that jumping on my bed stopped being fun. I yearn for the days when I used to be so carefree." It hit very close to home. I was swinging on a swing set a few days ago in the park, and I just felt old. Not even like I was emerging from childhood- but that I abandoned it a long time ago. The weirdest part is I know I still have two years of college left, two more years of full on learning until I become a "real person", but it's strange how close I feel to adulthood and how far I feel from childhood.

I'm going to try to go to sleep now. Maybe fall asleep to thoughts about swing sets, secrets, and insomnia. Goodnight.

xx

Cerulean Scribbles

I don't do this often, but I'm trying. Enjoy

Cerulean Scribbles

You say you’re an artist,

Well paint me up

Give me blue for that emotion

And yellow, yellow to heal my soul

Throw in some red, and make me a heart

I want to be bursting with colors

A burnt sienna vision

With an electric lime undertone

And tickle me pink giggles

Finger paint me a childhood

Splatter paint in some dreams

Delicately outline my bones

Trace my body, every freckle, clear

And then sketch in a hint of disaster

Create me something beautiful

I don’t want to be a scribble,

Or an afterthought

I want you to make me into art

I want you to make me a masterpiece

Just One of the Boys

So about 90% of the people I have been hanging out with recently are guys. This is partly in fact to my male roommate, but I think mostly just weirdly coincidental. I had some people over last night for drinks and cards, and the guy-girl ratio was 7:1 for a long part of the evening. Jesus, put me in that situation a few years ago and I'd either be intimidated, proud of myself, or just worried I was a tremendous whore. But not the case now. Now, don't worry. This is not the first in a line of posts where I eventually come out as a lesbian (though I doubt too many people would be surprised). But it was great. There was no BS, no camera whipping out for validation, no cleavage.

I did have to deal with a lot of conversations about strip clubs and why women are soulless bitches, but I suppose some sort of price had to be paid. I don't think a lot of people understand the real benefits of platonic opposite sex relationships. It's endlessly interesting to learn their perspectives and hear what they have to say. I could also get their views on my love life- without them being overly analytical or critical. It was healthy.

We even went and got pizza at 1 a.m. This is apparently something drunk men enjoy doing immensely. I felt very protected in my posse.

I'm not going to lie, I felt like Snow White at the end of the night. It was me and my four men in my tiny home. I even had a Dopey, Grumpy, Sleepy, and Bashful. We were all drunk though, so that actually kind of makes sense. I even had a poison apple (and by that i mean half a bottle of rum) and went into a deep slumber. Except instead of waking up to Prince Charming making out with me, I woke up to an uncomfortable headache and that gross "I slept in jeans" feeling.

Hey, fairytales rarely translate that accurately.

Favorite Text Quote of the Evening:

Josh: Who's there?

Frankie: Well it's me, Matt, Manny, Mike, Mickey, Julio, and hopefully you, Cara and Caleb.

Josh: So it's a party of people you used to make out with? And who's names begin with "M"?

And from the next morning:

Mike: What's left?

Frankie: there's a large amount of your empty bud lights on my counter. And more than half my bottle of rum is gone. And your rum is completely gone. That could explain some things.

All in all enjoyable. Definitely.

To end on a more serious note, keep my dog Sunny Moo (don't laugh) in your prayers. He's having surgery tomorrow and is very old. I'm not a Catholic or anything and I don't know if you are, but keep him in your thoughts, prayers, whatever. He's my baby.

Thanks guys.

xx

Missing something

Lucas came up and visited me overnight. Hence why I haven't updated in a few days. Unfortunately, I had to work until about 9:30 p.m. and then be back at work by noon the next day, so I didn't really get much time to hang out with him. Friggin bummer. We saw Up!, got drunk and watched Stranger than Fiction with Mike, slept, and then went and got some D and D before I had to go in to work. Him and Laurie even came to eat at the restaurant while I was working, so that was great. Crap! I just realized I forgot my leftovers they saved me.

It made me realize how much I miss everyone, though. I mean, the friends I have up here are great, and the people I work with aren't too bad, but I miss everyone I'm not in a 20 minute vicinity of. People in Connecticut, Vermont, Pennsylvania, Jersey, California even. Uncool.

This has caused me to reach one conclusion: I would not do well living on my own. Even being away from my beloved roomie for this period of time is torture. I am too much of a people person. I'm surprisingly social for an antisocial person.

I feel like no matter where I'm with, I'm missing somebody somewhere. It's an obvious thought, but one that upsets me and catches me by surprise. Just once I want to be with everyone I love, at the same time. That's probably one of the things people take for granted so much about high school and living in your home town.

I miss spontaneously going to Shell and Friendly's with the CT people, having barbecues with my family, relaxing in the cubicle with my SU friends, all of it. Where are you guys? Come back to me.

xx

Self Gratification

I've been enviably lazy recently. Yesterday, I literally did nothing but watch hours and hours of Lost, talk to various friends/acquaintances/somebody's, and sleep in my very large, very comfortable bed. It was one of those days where, if I had not had a day off in a while, I would have dreamed of. But now that my day is over and a new one has crept up on me, I know that I cannot be that lazy today. Indulgence is like that.

Wiki Define: Indulgence: an inability to resist the gratification of whims and desires

Well that's sort of harsh. I have a question for you though. Do you believe in pleasure without pain? I remember first hearing it in some Disney Channel Original Movie (Hot days, coool nights. Disney Channel's making it right!) One character was like, "If we didn't have all this bad stuff in our lives we wouldn't be able to appreciate the good!" We live off healthy food, so having dessert every once in a while is a treat. We only have Christmas and birthdays once a year because that makes them special. Vacation. Days off. Sex. Going to the movies. Getting drunk.

Indulgences. Pleasures that take place sparingly between the pain or the mundane. And sadly, there are people who can't control the indulgences (overindulging on liquor, food, sex, anything really).

Where's the line? Is it the Catholic in us? Religion jokes aside, when is it okay to indulge, to act sinful or lustful? To do what you WANT to do instead of what you HAVE to do or OUGHT to be doing? Is indulgence freedom? Freedom from self? Freedom from something else? Is it our one way to break away from constraints and simply say, 'Fuck it?'

I don't know. But I'm going back to the grind today.

xx

-Less Day

Second post, and second time I've written in the midday hour. This isn't a problem or anything, it's just different for me. I have always done my best writing in the wee hours of the morning. I'm hoping that this change of time will clear up some of the fogginess that usually surrounds what I try to say. With my luck, the fogginess will just become fuzzy, as I just woke up about 10 minutes ago. But here's to trying new things. Cheers?

So here's a conundrum: Can a happy person be bitter?

Side-note: Iis noon too early for words like conundrum?

Anyone who knows me knows that I consider myself to be a generally happy individual. Sure, I have my days where I feel like crap, I look like hell, and I literally pull my hair out, but I think I just really enjoy life. That said, I recently realized that I am seriously bitter. Bitter about family, friendships, relationships, non-relationships, and people in general. I think that if you work in food services long enough, bitterness is sort of inevitable.

That and a slew of douchebags in my love life. There will now be a moment of silence dedicated to my recently failed summer fling where you can all say together, "I Told You So."

...

I took PHI 191 last semester with Thomas. Life changing class- thank you Tori, by the way. (if you're out there) He went through great lengths to describe that bitterness just does not live harmoniously with happiness. A person can't be truly happy if they feel bitter. We watched a video of an amputee motivational speaker- and I think Thomas was onto something. Now, I'm not even going to pretend I understand philosophy or psychology deeply enough to really get into this issue, but they just don't go along with each other.

So in order for me to reach self actualization and become a happy person, maybe I do need to let go of my bitterness. Maybe this means I need to stop having such emo twitters. That will be the day.

And So It Begins

I have never liked the idea of blogs.

That's a good note to start out on, right?

I always thought that some things should be kept personal- some information about my life does not belong out in cyberspace with the chance of some creeper following my every move. I thought that information that really matters in my life can be easily found out via a phone call or a visit. And, of course, there was the general fear of me not being interesting or talented enough to write something that people would actually want to read.

So I decided to start this blog for a variety of reasons. I don't want fear to hold me back- therefore it will not (that one was easy enough). I also want to make sure that even those far away from me stay updated on my life - willingly. So if they care enough to read my blog, I don't have to worry about boring them on the phone with the awkward chasm of my life. Does that make sense?

To ward off creepers, I won't give away too much specific information. And I'll try to make my life sound less interesting and crazy than it really is. I will never mention that I am in fact a blonde supermodel who is just waiting for a man to come sweep her off her front stoop at 11 Ride Rd. Oh wait...

Enough of self justification. This blog is happening. Deal with it. Maybe if you're lucky, I will keep it going. Time shall tell.

I think the first thing I want to write about here is the value of experience. Last night, on a whim, I went somewhere amazing with an old friend. We were gone from maybe midnight to 4 a.m., half asleep and driving (at times recklessly) out to the middle of nowhere. Rationally, the idea was probably a bad one. We didn't even get back until about 4 a.m. and I have to work catering today. But it was amazing. I had good conversation, discovered a new place, and appreciated the value of a spontaneous decision. My life advice: Do it. Try something. You might regret it, but what if it works out? What if it ends up changing your life?

I once got a fortune cookie (and of course, I will end this first post with a fortune cookie quote) that told me "Remember that chance you wanted to take? Take it.

xx