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