Monday, November 30, 2009

Lost for Lost and Dreamy Saxaphones

GOAL: Watch all previous seasons of Lost before February 2, 2010

I'm going to try and blog my thoughts or questions as much as possible while watching the series. I'm not looking for any spoilers. I just want to watch years worth of Lost in a little over six weeks. In the words of Glenn Frey...THE HEAT IS ON!

Saturday, November 28, 2009

All The Leaves Were Brown

I took the dogs for a walk in the woods today near my dad's house. I love walking through the woods and I'm lucky that I have always had that option. There is something so refreshing about taking a little hike in the wilderness. Somehow everything makes sense when I'm in the woods. But what's cool about these woods is that they back up to a railroad track. I always like walking to them and looking both ways. If you walk to the right spot, you can't see past the tracks in either direction. I snapped a few pictures while I was walking with the dogs. I was hoping to stay out there longer but one of the dogs, Sweetie, is old and we had to start heading back before she got too tired or cold.




Friday, November 27, 2009

A Handsome Blog

Go ahead, take a whiff. Smell that? Ah, new bloggy smell. Oh and what's that? A new blog name! Creepygroovy...I think I like that.

This blog may look different, but it's still just as awesome. You can instantly view my facebook page by clicking the button overhead. Flikr is up there too, although I don't really have any pictures up there yet...I will soon! You can read my twitter updates and find my twitter page by scrolling to the bottom of the page. There you will also find the blog archives.

It's still a work in progress, but I just wanted to introduce you to the new blog. Please snoop around and let me know if you have any suggestions! I'm all ears.

Freedom Came My Way One Day

Awesome cover of "I Shot the Sheriff" by Narciso Lobo

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Welcome to Hell, Population: 5. Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving.

Holidays are a funny thing. They are made up and yet taken so seriously. The family part kills me. Now don't get me wrong, I understand the importance of family and I'm extremely grateful for my family...I just can't stand them majority of the time. I swear I feel like I'm part of the Truman Show or some other nightmare scheme.

During dinner my father counted his moles...after exclaiming that he had to get some paper towel because he sweats when he eats. Disgusting. He actually said "my adrenaline gets goin' when I see all the good food." So he got his paper towels came back and started talking about how he has one mole. Then he changed it to two. Two moles.

"I have one by my neck....and the other one somewhere else," he said while laughing. As I looked up to say something along the lines of "shut up", I noticed he had a mole on his face, next to his eye brow above his nose.

"What about that one on your face?" I asked while shoving mashed potatoes in my mouth.

"I don't have a mole on my face," he tried to argue. My brother leaned over and put his finger on it.

"Oh. Well...I guess I have three moles then."

And that's how dinner started. Then my mom wanted to play a game. We had to go around the table and say things that we are thankful for. When it was my turn I said "pass", as I was still getting over the mole conversation. But everyone said the same cheese, "I'm thankful for family and friends and health and this meal and blah blah blah." All eyes were on me. I looked down at my plate and said the first thing that came to my mind..."I am thankful for these eating utensils." Without saying a word, glasses were raised. And then my brother sneezed.

"Bless you," we said. He got up and started laughing. We were all confused but still not entirely interested in what was so funny. He came back with Windex and paper towel. We all leaned over and took a peek. He sneezed with a mouthful of food. Not just one food, but turkey, corn and mashed potatoes. In my family, you learn not to regurgitate your food at a young age.

I continued to work on my plate. My stuffing looked like it was in a perfect ball from when I scooped it with a spoon.

"Did you roll your stuffing into a ball?" my dad asked me.

"What? No, that's how it came off the spoon." I said back to him.

"Oh, I thought you were playing with your food." He put his hands in the air and told me to throw my stuffing at him. I gave him a "really?" look.

"Are you serious?" I said to his stupid grin.

"C'mon..." he said in a teasing and taunting voice.

"Don't tempt me." I said as he laughed and put his hands down.

Then my mom started talking about my brother's penis. Something everybody, including him, I'm sure wanted to hear. My brother and his girlfriend made penis cookies. My mom had all these inappropriate jokes and stories to go with them.

"I've seen his penis, but I don't want to decorate it. That would just be weird." I probably asked her to stop four times before she actually did.

"Oh, you have no sense of humor!" my mom told me.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm lacking." The room was quiet. My brother and his girlfriend were whispering.

"What are you guys talking about?" my dad asked.

"We're gonna hang out with Sean tonight," my brother told him.

"Doesn't he have swine flu?" we all asked in confusion.

"Yeah, but he went out last night and he said he feels fine," my dumb brother said. We all tried explaining to him that H1N1 stays in your system for ten days and that it has not been ten days. My mother who is a nurse and has been having to wear a mask every day at work for months told him that it was a stupid idea.

"He said he feels fine though," his girlfriend said.

"Whatever, you guys are fucking stupid," my other brother chirped in.

"For real, don't come back to this house for a while if you're going over there," I said.

"Well, I'm ready to get my party on and I don't care," my brother said.

And as if we weren't talking about swine flu exposure, my dad decided to change the subject.

"If you put all the left overs into a food processor or blender and then put in in a casserole and bake it, I'd bet it'd be really good," he said.

"That's disgusting," I said in return. The conversation went on for a while about how none of us would eat the left over casserole. Before I knew it we were talking about my single status. Something always good to end the dinner with.

"You know, the guy that owns that pizza and sub place remembers what you order," my mom told me.

"What pizza and sub place? What guy?" I asked.

"You know, the one you get a turkey sub from..." my mom said in a cute tone.

"Um...no, I don't. I always order a turkey sub."

"Oh, what's the name of that place? Guetti's?" she finally remembered.

"UHHHHH....are you serious?" I said while dropping my fork on my plate.

"Yeah! His father was just in with chest pains!" my mom said sounding somewhat excited.

"I've only been in there once and it was over the summer..." I said waiting for her to realize how odd it is that this man knew who I was and what I ordered.

"Oh yeah! That's what he said!" she wasn't picking it up.

"Mom," I said, "that's creepy."

"No it's not! He saw my last name and asked if I knew your father. Told me that you came in on a Sunday morning over the summer. You were his first customer of the day and you ordered a turkey sub."

"Uh, yeah...that's creepy," I said once again. Apparently, I was the only one who found this story off. Everybody else seemed to think it was special. I slowly got up, took my wine, a few cookies and went upstairs all while listening to them all discuss my future of marrying a man that owns a pizzeria.

That was only one half hour of my family life. Imagine what the next month or so is going to be like. It's for this reason that I like to think of my friends as family. The way I see it, you're friends are the family that you chose. So out of no disrespect to my family, I'd like to say that I am thankful for something other than forks and spoons...I'm thankful for my friends. Thankful that they don't count their moles in front of me and for just being who they are. Without them I'm sure I'd be in a nuthouse. So thanks, friend. :)

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Secret Edition 1: The Virgin Mary....Jane.

I've decided to start a series of blogs in which I tell you one secret about myself. I'll warn you, majority these will not be pretty. Some will be tamer than others, but will hopefully still keep your interest. Why am I dishing out secrets? Well, I'm keeping a list of things that I have done or have happened to me that I'm not exactly proud of. I live life by not letting things get to me. I like to laugh at the stupid things I have done in my life instead of thinking about how much of an idiot I truly am. And the things that happened to me, well...again, I try not to get hung up on them. I recognize that it was wrong or bad and I move on. This is a way of doing so. In a way, it's therapeutic. It's good to laugh at yourself. Oh, and please feel free to judge me...it is the internet after all and I'm sure one day this "giving away personal secrets" blog idea will be on my "not so proud" list. So here we go, Secret 1....

I first started flirting with marijuana my senior year in high school. My first time trying it was St. Patrick's Day. Three of my friends got in my car and we started driving around. We found a dark side street and parked. I had never smoked anything in my life, so one girl explained to me how to inhale.
"Have you ever used an inhaler?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Ok, well...it's just like that. Hold it in a little and let it out," she said while passing a blunt my way.

So I did. I inhaled, held it for a bit and then let it out as soon as it started to scratch my lungs. I coughed and they laughed. I thought I was going to die. The coughs were deep and actually gut-wrenching. I finally caught my breath and drank some water. The blunt came back around to me and I decided to take another try. I inhaled less and did not cough. I remember thinking that it was like a skill game; you have to let your lungs be in control...an organ you usually don't think much about controlling. I only took a few hits because I was nervous what I was going to feel and I knew I had to drive. They told me to drive around while they finished the blunt. At the time, I remember feeling fine. I didn't feel drunk or funny, so I just started driving. I was actually wondering if marijuana was hyped. I wasn't feeling anything and was kind of mad that I wasted money on nothing. Then I felt a little numb, but tingly. It felt good. I tried to play it cool.

We drove around for a while and we had another blunt in the glove compartment. I remember loud music and us shouting and laughing over it, but I can't tell you what exactly was going on in that car. I know that we were having fun though when suddenly the mood changed. Dun, dun...DUN!

Sirens came from behind us. Lots of sirens. Police cars, not fire trucks. Ok...so....FREAK OUT! I quickly learned the paranoia that came along with smoking pot. Some of us screamed, I can't remember who though...could have been me, but I just remember screaming. One of my friends in the backseat starting really losing it, she began to cry. Like the good friend I am, I started screaming at her.
"Shut the fuck up!!!" I yelled at her.
We pulled over and the cops all sped past us. As it turns out they were all going to RIT, probably to break up some college party, but it was enough to scare the shit out of us. We ditched our second blunt and decided that it was too scary to drive. We called up a friend and went to her brother's house (he lived close to where we were) and tried to sober up. None of us had ever really met this kid, but we knew that he worked with Missy Elliot and Usher. We had all wanted to meet him and this seemed like the perfect excuse.

We explained to him what had happened. He was cool enough to let us hang out until I felt comfortable to drive again. It ended up just being really awkward and quiet. We watched a kung fu movie and went home full of shame and embarrassment. I went home though with one more thing...a love for marijuana. I loved the adventure, the high and even the paranoia a little bit.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Testing

Testing. Testing. 1-2-3. Civilence.

New York City and Halloween: A Success Story

I didn't mean to be absent for so long, but I broke my finger about 5 weeks ago now and I am finally not in pain...typing is hard with a broken finger!

Anyways, I'm on the road to recovery and have been missing my blog. Here's what happened since I've been gone:

About a week after breaking my finger I drove to NYC with my best friend. We stayed right in the city, about a block away from Times Square. I had been to the city a few times prior to this trip, but never actually stayed in the city, so I was beyond excited. The first night we went to a bar and we met a very interesting character. His name was Ian. He was from Scotland. And he made a very good living being a lawyer in the city. His accent charmed us immediately and he bought us a few rounds of shots. He danced to Lady Gaga's "Pokerface" and by the end of the night he kissed me. It was a weird thing that probably shouldn't have happened, but it did and we both just pretended it didn't happen for the rest of the night...or I just blacked out from drinking, the rest of the night is a haze.

The next night we went bar hopping in the west village. I loved the bars, Washington Square Park and the little stores in the village. It felt like home. We only made it to three bars, but all three were fun! The first one sold PBR and was decorated for Halloween and they did a stellar job at it, in fact I wonder if it just always looked that way in there. The second (my favorite) was like a pub with old church pews for booths, artwork made from bottle caps on the walls and there was a fabulous tin ceiling overhead...not to mention an excellent beer selection. The third bar was more like a fancy strip club with no strippers, it was dark with red light bulbs, there were big fancy couches and end tables everywhere, all the drinks came with fruit and the music made you want to vomit slightly....but in a good way.

Our last full day in the city had to be one of the best days of my life. The things I saw that day were so inspirational and unforgettable. It started out with our first stop, The Dakota. The place where John Lennon and Yoko Ono lived in New York and also where John Lennon was shot. For those of you that don't know, I am a huge Beatles fan, standing in a spot where John Lennon resided and lost his life was surreal. Part of me was excited that I was looking at a building where one of the Beatles lived. I wondered which window was his, who was living in his apartment now? Then I felt sad that I was looking at where he died. The feeling was powerful.

After that we entered Strawberry Fields where the Imagine memorial lies on the walkway of Central Park. It was quiet except for a man sitting on a bench playing a guitar and singing. People crowded around the tiled circle with the word 'Imagine' in the center. One woman put a teddy bear down by the 'I'. I took a picture and then soaked up what I was doing at that moment. It was very emotional and way too nice of a day to waste on tears, so we kept walking. Central Park was gorgeous and everything I have ever wanted.

Right around sunset we stopped to finish our coffee at Washington Square Park. We sat at the edge of the fountain with our feet almost in the water. There was about five guys behind us playing Neil Young songs. I'm a huge Neil Young fan and quickly got up to listen to them. The man singing, a balding black man with glasses, had the most beautiful painful voice I have heard in a long time. There was so much feeling behind every word he said, he put tears in my eyes. As that man sang "Helpless" he took everything bad away from me. It was the perfect ending to New York City.


After New York City came Halloween! I made a Ms. Pac Man costume and after being violated all night (I had an open mouth at my stomach, so much was put in there...) I won the contest at the Halloween party I went to! Yay!

Feeling Ambitious? Read These Too! (sorry for all the LOST posts)