Happy New Year Friends

Looking back on the year I think that tonight was the best way to end 2009. For some reason it has just been an off year...for everybody. I've written about how depressed I've been over the past few years, but tonight I felt like none of that ever happened. Maybe it was because I could smell 2010 creeping around the corner? Maybe it was the beer? But in reality it was the company. Sometimes hanging out with friends is all that matters. I've been in some serious rough shape, especially with the holidays. Spending Christmas alone was tough. For the first time I didn't care about a single gift that I received because it wouldn't change the loneliness. It made me realize even more that nothing else matters except for the good people in my life. Tonight, I had the pleasure of being with the best people in my life and two new, wonderful people.

It was refreshing to hang out with two people that I hadn't met before. Not because I'm bored of the people in my life, but hanging out with someone new tends to bring out old stories and realizations. I guess like adding some spice to a relationship. Regardless, they were both a good time. We were all able to kick back a few drinks and have some laughs. Something that I needed more than anything. I just feel like the gloom has taken over my life and no matter how hard I try to fight it, it just keeps coming back. Well, tonight there was no way that gloom was touching me and I kept it off with a little help from my friends.

I had such a good time talking with my two best friends tonight that I pulled an all nighter with them. OK...I might have fell asleep on the floor for a little while, but I never stopped listening to them talk. How is it that just a few human beings can take everything bad and make it all right? I didn't want the night to end. I still wish I was with them, but we are working ladies after all now. I can't think of a better way to bring in the new year. And even though tomorrow is the start of the New Year, I just don't care what tomorrow is or isn't. All that matters is that tonight was one of best nights of the year and I couldn't be happier (yeah, I said happy). I'm hoping there will be more nights like tonight in 2010. I'll pull more all nighters if I have to, they are well worth it and I'm sure those two fantastic ladies in my life would agree. Things are looking up for the next year...

Lost: Season Four

Well season four has been a doozy! I think I forgot everything I wanted to comment on when the island disappeared. The fucking island moved! WTF????!?!?!?!?!!

I hate that Jack and Kate got together after they left the island. I can't stand him and I think he would be a horrible father. So I'm glad that he became an unshaven, pill popping retard.

I'm sad that John dies. And I'm curious to find out how.

I feel bad for Hurley. Anytime the poor guy gets a break something bad happens. Wins the lotto, has bad luck. Get's rescued, ends up going insane. Poor Hurley.

I knew something was going on with Jack's (and Claire's) father! How did he become this person?!

I understand why everyone has to lie about the island, but it's starting to stress me out.

What did Sawyer whisper to Kate?

Why is John's name changed?

Fucking love Sun right now. She's out to get her revenge. I wish Tarantino directed an episode where she goes on a killing rampage.

So time is a factor on the island. Obviously, Desmond has been a victim to this...who else has? It's a little confusing to me though. I can't figure out if time slows down or speeds up on the island. Or is it inconsistent? Like a little bit of both? When the doctor washed up on shore and he wasn't dead yet was a major clue, but I guess I'm still confused. The crew said the doctor wasn't dead. So either the boat is behind time than the island or the island is in the future.

Are they all dead like Hurley and Charlie say so? That would be crazy!

This girl, from the boat, what is her story? She's been to the island before and wants to stay there. She says she might have been born on the island, who are her parents?

Who is Kate with after Jack?

Why did Claire stay on the island with her dad and leave her baby? Charlie died to get Claire and Aaron off the island and Claire stays? That's pretty fucked up, Claire. Leave your daddy issues on the island and go be a mom. What did he tell her?

I hope Jack gets them all back to the island. Watching all this Lost has made me want to leave civilization and move to an island. I would totally love living there. I love adventure and I've never been afraid of getting my hands dirty. But anyways, the island wants them all to come back. I need to know more about that.

HOW THE FUCK DID THE ISLAND MOVE?! I can't get over it!

My brother told me that season five is "a total mind fuck." So I'm about to get fucked...mentally. Season five here I come!!!

Lost: Season Three

So I guess they do make it off the island after all! I've been wondering all this time if they are ever going to actually make it off the island. It seems like most people have better lives on the island than they would off the island and the flash forward to the future to where Jack (even more annoying) begs Kate to go back seems to prove it.

I can't believe Charlie died! So sad.

Where the hell are Michael and Walt? No one seems to even be talking about them.

I like that the "others" have their own little civilization. I think it's creepy and mysterious. I don't understand Ben's deal though. He says that people can go home but he won't let them. What's going on with that? Is this some sort of cult?

Who is this Nadia? What's going to happen now that Jack called in to be supposedly rescued? They obviously aren't going to be rescued...

What is the deal with Jack's father? He seems to be the biggest asshole in the world and by the looks of it so far...the cause of every body's problem on the island.

And speaking of fathers...who would have guessed that John's father was the man Sawyer had been looking for???

I'm still not exactly sure about Juliette. Can she really be trusted?

Hmmm....the plot seems to always be thickening with this show. I'm totally hooked, obviously, since I've been flying through the series. So, off to season four!

And please, no spoilers :)

My Name is... creepygroovy

I am creepygroovy because

I like mustaches.
I like tweed and plaid.
I like scrabble.
I like boys that wear sweaters.
I love music.
I dislike summer.
I like to read.
I like uncomfortable situations.
I still laugh at farts.
I like to write.
I believe in ghosts.
I like to get fucked up.
I like to make things.
I like the smell of gasoline.
I am a film snob.
I like to play video games.
I like disturbing things.
I have peed my pants way too many times as an adult.
I like crooked mouths and/or smiles.
I own and have read Geek Love.
I like John Waters.
I keep tequila in my bedroom.
I want to have dinner with the Sedaris family.
I love old movies.
I like most things vintage.
I want to collect harmonicas.
I like people that wear glasses.
I will never have enough sneakers.
I like the outdoors.
I like buttons.
I like thrift stores.
I own two record players.
I watch Spongebob Squarepants on my own time.
I like zombie movies.
I can figure out people easily.
I like gadgets.
I like road trips.
I like true stories.
I like looking at old pictures.
I don't like to dance.
I love pizza way too much.
I like boys with facial hair.
I like tattoos.
I like to whistle.
I have an appreciation for art.
I dislike organized religion.
I like musicals.
I believe in aliens.
I know what I want in life.
I like the strange.
I like Halloween the best.
I like adventures.
I don't care much about money, just happiness.
I love going to the zoo.
I like projects.
I never learned fractions.
I like poetry.
I like dogs.
I like making fun of things...and people.
I like cameras.
I like crazies.
I like countdowns.
I like swears.
I own guns.
I am for human rights.
I like infomercials.
I like old cars.
I like the smell of a skunk.
I have a fear of banks.
I like comfort over fashion.
I think marijuana should be legal.
I have never had a big mac.
I never want a big mac.
I love googly eyes.
I own a copy of Hitler's "Mein Kampf"
I like to write naughty things on bananas.
I am stubborn.
I am addicted to my blackberry.
I was a tomboy growing up.
I think life really is too short (it freaks me out).
I think way too much.
I consider my friends my family.
I am morbid.
I like to have nightmares.
I can drink three beers simultaneously.
I will always pull your finger.
I am a picky eater.
I like short nails.
I am still a kid at heart sometimes.
I love conspiracies.
I like Taco Bell.
I have a fear of conformity.
I have a locket with Mulder and Scully.
I hide things and then can't find them.
I am a good climber.
I pick up random things off the street.
I have a terrible memory.
I eat too much candy.
I do not believe in God.
I watch too much tv.
I wish cheese was a condiment (seriously, let's stop fucking around).
I have an open mind.
I wish I knew how to play every instrument.
I was tested for ADD, but when I turned 18 I stopped going.
I like to cook.
I respect the respectful.
I like to wash my hands often.
I believe in mind over matter.
I have always lived my life by "The Secret" before it was a book.
I am a good person.
I am a horrible person.

Shit Happiness

I need to rant a little. Rant about happiness and loneliness and how the two somehow got confused in my life. Don't worry, I'll tell the short version of the story. A little over a year ago I was so excited for what was about to happen. I had just broken up with my boyfriend who I was living with and decided to move in with my dad and brother until I was able to afford my own place again. I finally felt like things were going to be good again. That I was going to be happy. Well it's funny how happiness works. One thing I have noticed is how backwards happiness is, what I think might cause misery brings happiness and vice versa.

I was living the single life. I was living with close friends in the city and loving it. Even though the apartment was infested with mice it was the best two years of my life. We were walking distance to everything you could want, restaurants, great shops, bars, Starbucks, drug stores, the library and even a Blockbuster. I spent a lot of time walking. I was in love with the city. We were in a great location for festivals and took advantage of the festivals to throw parties. Oh, the parties. I miss the parties. Then one day I woke up with a boyfriend.

I wanted a boyfriend. My two roommates had boyfriends. I was single for a few years and thought that a boyfriend would be nice again. We all have regrets, one of mine is him. I would do anything to go back in time and not meet him. But I did meet him. We worked together at an ice rink on the weekends. We worked side by side together for about two years without ever really talking to one another. I never understood why he was so shy and quiet. Our job was to ensure the safety of the skaters on the ice. We skated around for a few hours every weekend, checking stamped hands, yelling at kids, breaking up fights and dealing with (sometimes horrific) injuries for two years together. So naturally, I was curious as to why this guy never said a word to me. I would try small talk and get short answers. I should have never tried. I should have known that maybe there was a reason why he never talked to me. But no, I kept pushing. Eventually I got him to talk to me. I was so relieved. It was nice to have someone to talk to out there. Plus, communication was key in that job and it was nice to know that I could communicate with him now without feeling awkward. We got to know one another over the weekends for a few months then things went terribly wrong one night...well, at the time I thought everything was perfect. The ice rink holds a huge party every year in February. It's the busiest night to work there and it's pretty much hell. Our shift ended, we unlaced our skates and joined the drunkards for some beer. We realized that we were the only sober adults and the party was coming to an end, so we left to buy beer and go back to my apartment. We played Wii with my roommates until they eventually disappeared into their bedrooms. So we were alone and drunk. I'll give you three guess about what happened next. I would trade just about anything for that night. To not buy the beer, to not invite him back to my apartment, to not play Wii bowling, to not let him pick "Boogie Nights" to watch, to not let him in my bedroom, to not let him in my bed, to not sleep with him. That one night was the start to everything. I thought it was the start to a new relationship and how great everything was going to be. I was wrong. So very wrong.

My best friend told me that she didn't like what was going on. I should have listened to her. If I close my eyes I can see me sitting on the blue couch, slightly crooked, facing her with the laptop balancing on my knees while I was looking at his Myspace page. She was sitting across from me on the other couch telling me that she didn't like him. That she couldn't see us working. I told her that I liked him. And then one morning we had the "what are we?" talk. I walked out of my bedroom that morning with a boyfriend and no clue to what I was in for over the next few years.

I blame him for us moving out of our apartment. Our lease was just about up and we had all boyfriends. They were all staying at our apartment and it was a little crowded at times. He told me that he wanted to move in with me. I had never lived with a boyfriend before and was excited. Once again, happiness disguised as misery. I thought it was great and I was so happy. So once that lease ended, we all went our separate ways. We got apartments with our boyfriends. I wonder all the time what would have happened if I told him that it was too soon and that I didn't want to move in with him. Would we still be at that apartment?

Him and I moved half a block away from my old apartment. It was a great little apartment...with no mice. I was so excited. Well, I did not know who I was dating until we moved in together. And I was stuck. I signed a lease. Not to mention that my hours at work were horrible. It got so bad at one point that I was only working two days a week. I couldn't afford my half of the expenses and had to rely on him to pay my half at times. Some things I found out once we started living together:

1. He was abused as a child. His mother should have had her husband arrested for the abuse he put him through. It was sad to listen to the stories of his dad abusing him.

2. While in the military, he was taught to never have (or especially show) feelings or emotions. I tried to talk with him about this a lot, but the military did a pretty good job at brainwashing him. It was pointless.

3. He had a serious addiction to porn which lead to so much more. It lead to him talking to about twenty women at a time online. He would have cyber sex with these women and try to meet them.

4. He was an angry drunk.

5. He never loved me.

Right before Christmas, the year we moved in, I read that he had been talking to a married woman, a mother of three, and that he had invited her over to our apartment. I can't even begin to explain what was going on to my mind and body after I read that. I don't know the words to describe what I felt. I broke up with him that night and we didn't speak for about a week. He kept writing me messages about how sorry he was and how much he loved me. I believed him. I actually believed him. I took him back. I made strict rules though for him to earn my trust back. I had to get software for my computer that was meant for parents to protect their children from the Internet. It was more a pain than anything because it would ask for a password for just about everything. So anytime he wanted to check his bank account online or check his email I had to punch in the password. Eventually I got lazy and I turned the software off. I also thought that I could trust him again. What I didn't know was that I could never trust him again in my life. As soon as I turned off the parental software, he went back to porn and women. This happened not once again, not twice again, not three times again...but many, many more times. I can't even remember how many times actually. The number is probably around thirty. Thirty...the number of times I caught him trying to cheat. It got to the point where I only told my best friend about the big things. No one really knew what was going on, the hell that I was living. I kept taking him back though. The fights were bad. Really bad. Small arguments about doing dishes would lead to fighting over who he had fucked. Things were not good.

As if that wasn't bad enough, pretty much every time he drank he hit me. He never punched me, he always had "an open hand", as he would say. Here's the thing though, if someone hits me...I'm going to hit them back. I don't care how much bigger or smaller you are than me. If you're an adult, I'm hitting you back. My disadvantage was that he was almost a full foot taller than me and weighed about 100lbs more than me. I think of all the times he hit me, I only once "won" the fight. It was my birthday. He spent the night following this girl at the bar. He said that he was helping my cousin try to get laid, but I watched them the entire night...my cousin was doing just fine with his new lady friend. My boyfriend was being a dick. We came back to the apartment and I told him not to come to bed. After hitting on a girl all night on my birthday, he was sleeping on the couch. He started mouthing off to me so I went to get a cup full of cold water and I threw it at him as he got comfortable on the couch. He was too drunk to even realize how wet he was and he fell asleep. About an hour later the bedroom door opened and he started stumbling in. A huge fight started (all this going on while we had my two cousins, his sister and her boyfriend spending the night). I told him he was not getting into bed. Here's were his size becomes his advantage. He crawled into bed and I was using all my strength to try and push him out. He hardly budged. In fact, he was laughing at me. I swear fire came out of my ears when he started laughing. It was like flashes of the night were going through my head. My birthday was a total disaster and it was because of him. I looked down at his face on the pillow, laughing at me, and I punched down right on his jaw. He finally got out of bed. He sprang out of bed actually. I didn't hit him hard, but it was enough to stun him. There was plenty of yelling and threatening. He spent the rest of the night in his car. That was the only time I was successful at fighting back.

He was so much bigger and stronger than me that it was hard to fight back. He always made sure to never do anything to leave a mark though...smart. Except for one day. It was St. Patrick's Day and he hit me so hard that my own tooth cut my lip open. It happened while I was trying to fight back. It was a nasty day. We went to a bar after the parade ended. I wanted a picture of us in our matching suspenders. As I went over to him to put my arm around him he punched me in the vagina. He thought it was hysterical. He said I was overreacting when I started to yell. We had now caused a scene in the bar. The whole bar was listening and watching us fight. I wanted to go home. He had the keys and refused to give them to me, he denied hitting me, I threw his beer all over him and stormed out. I sat on our front porch waiting for them to come home at some point. Not too much time passed until I saw him walking back. We started screaming at one another as soon as we were in range. He was pushing me and I was pushing him. I thought he had come back to apologize, but he said there was a line at the bar for the bathroom and he really had to pee. I thought I was going to actually lose it. I started taking off my St. Patty's gear while I was screaming at him for punching me in the vagina and then denying it to convince the bar that I made it all up. He kept telling me that I did make it up and that I was crazy, which he said a lot. He always said that I made everything up. If you hear that enough, you start to think that you are actually crazy. Emotional abuse is no joke, once it starts it takes a long time to go away. A long time. He kept saying it over and over again. I knew what he was doing and I couldn't listen to him anymore. He was in my face now, yelling at me. I kept begging him to stop saying that I made it up. He wouldn't. He got meaner and nastier. I went for the low blow, he was getting too close, he was drunk and he was insane. He stopped my fist before I hit him and he hit me. Think of someone putting their hand up to stop traffic, but with the force of a punch (open handed). He got me right on the mouth and I flew back on to the bed from the force of the hit. It really did feel like slow motion. I remember going back, feeling the fall and landing on the bed. I remember I saw the ceiling before I saw him start to leave the room. My mouth felt hot. I touched my lip and saw blood on my finger. He went back to the bar. I stayed in bed all day. I couldn't believe what was happening. That day I knew I was in an abusive relationship. I was physically and emotional abused. And I can honestly tell you that I don't know which one is worse. Emotional abuse makes you feel like you're worthless and like you're a prisoner. He didn't come back to the apartment for another seven hours or so. And when he came back, he brought a posse of people with him. He was throwing a party in our apartment, while I laid in our bed with a cut lip. His sister was supposed to be coming over later that night and I told her what had happened so she wasn't walking into the situation blind. When she got to our apartment I could hear her talking to him. She asked what happened. He told her that I made everything up, I threw beer at him and that I tried to punch him in the balls. She came in my room and talked to me. I told her what had happened, that he punched me, tried saying that it didn't happen, came back and when I tried to punch him in the sack he hit me. I showed her my lip and started crying. I told her that I didn't understand what was going on. Why would I make all that up? Why would I want anything like that to happen? She obviously believed me. She went out there and started talking to him again. He started yelling at her now, I could hear everything they were saying. He refused to apologize and told her that I could go fuck myself and that he didn't give a shit about me. She came in and before she could say anything I told her that I heard it all. She sat with me for a while and then I asked her to leave. I didn't want any of it to become her problem. I didn't want him to hit anyone else either. So I told her to go out there and just try to get them to go back to a bar and let him do whatever he wanted. She did. He fell asleep on the couch for a while that night, I never heard him come into the bedroom. I woke up the next morning and he was laying next to me. I started to think it was all a dream. Did I actually make it all up? He woke up a few minutes later and I pretended I was sleeping. It was too early to fight, plus I was confused. He got up to go to the bathroom and came back to bed. He put his arm around me and I shot up. He asked what was wrong. I just looked at him. To this day I don't know if he was lying or not, but he had no clue as to what had happened. It wouldn't be the first time that he blacked out. I had to sit there and explain to him what happened. I showed him my lip and he apologized, but of course he said he remembered nothing and that it sounded like I overreacted. I felt crazy.

Everyone asks me why I stayed with him. Why I didn't just leave. That's the tricky thing about emotional abuse. I have journal entries saying that I could never leave him because of how "fucked up in the head" I was. He had such control over me mentally. It's so scary. You feel trapped. You feel powerless. I felt like I couldn't lose him. And then one day I was free. My head had finally sorted things out. I could have left at any time, I was mad. I felt like a fool. We were at a Bills game. I suddenly realized that I had to leave. It hit me like a punch in the face. I had to leave. I had to leave. I don't remember much of the game. I don't even think I spoke to him. It was like I was in a catatonic state. I was there, but somewhere else. The football game was going on in front of me and my eyes were pointed in that direction but I didn't see a football game, I saw everything that had happened over the past two years. I saw all the fighting, all the disappointment, all the lying, all the manipulation. A few days later, election day, I broke up with him. We got rid of our apartment and I moved in with my dad and brother.

I was ready to be happy. I was sad to move out of the city and back to the suburbs, but I was so ready to be happy again. I couldn't wait. I guess I pictured life before him and I thought everything would just go back to that. It didn't. Everyone was so busy with their own lives. Everyone has a boyfriend or girlfriend now. Luckily, they have made good choices. But I am alone. Everyone has seemed to have grown up over the past couple years. How did I miss that? So here I am, a little over a year being single and still unhappy. I've never felt so alone in my life actually and I blame it all on him. I wouldn't be so lonely, I wouldn't be away from my friends, I could be happy. I'm pretty good at letting things roll off my shoulders and move on, but I just can't get happy. No matter how hard I try, I'm still...sad. Just sad. I miss my friends. I miss the parties. I miss the city. I miss having fun on the weekends. I do not miss him though. I am happy that I left him, but that seems to be the only thing I'm happy about with my life. This needs to change and I am working hard to change it. I try to hang out with friends but everyone is busy working, they're tired or they have plans already.

Happiness has been trying to break through to me too though. Arrangements have been made for me to rent my mom's house with a friend. It's all I've been thinking about. I can't wait to have someone to talk to. I spend 11 hours a day with a one-year-old, I come home to eat dinner and I usually smoke and/or drink myself to sleep and do it all over again. I have no one to talk to. No one to ask how my day was. No one to ask how their day was. The idea of living with a friend again has totally changed my mood. Something to care about. But then yesterday I found out that all of that may not happen. I'm back at square one. This information could have been useful months ago when I was looking at apartments and then stopped when I was offered the house. It's just a big let down. In February we might still be able to move in to the house, but it's a maybe. It went from a definite to a maybe. Brought down my good spirits pretty quickly. I won't lie, I want to give up a lot. Just let the misery and loneliness take over, but I'm still trying to find good. To find happiness. My happiness. If found, please return.

(and yes, that was the short story) :)

Best Indie Albums of '09

BeatCrave published their list of the best indie albums of 2009 yesterday with a Top 20 countdown. Giving you a quick description of the band/album, the best tracks on the album and a sample track. My favorites from the Top 20?

Metric, Real Estate, Fanfarlo, Girls, Freelance Whales and Phoenix.

BeatCrave's Top 20 List

Cankle Finger to Poop Nail: A Transformation

A few weeks before Halloween I slammed my finger in my car door. I opened the door and blood squirted out my way. The fingertip was broken and extremely painful. My nail turned black and blue instantly and my finger swelled up to the size of a German sausage or as I named it "cankle finger". My finger and nail remained that way for a long time. It was pretty gross.

Finally, over this past weekend, the nail started to lift up a little. I lost some feeling in the tip of my finger from the accident. I was hoping that if the nail fell off that somehow it would make everything better. I guess I thought that some more feeling might come back. Or maybe that the dislocated bone that sticks out of the bottom of my finger would magically reset itself. Well I took it upon myself to rip the nail off yesterday at work. It didn't hurt, but it made cracking and popping noises that freaked me out a little. And then finally it was off and my skin was exposed. Oops. This looks even worse now.

The skin is all bumpy and gross. There is dried blood in between the nooks and crannies that looks like poop. Hence the new nickname, "poop finger." There is a pretty deep scar where the skin should be, right in the middle. And ripping the nail off brought no relief, in fact I think I should have left the nail on. Besides having the ability to scare off anyone who glances at it, it is a little sensitive now. Oh, and the nerve damage is still there...so is the dislocated bone. Bummer. Wishful thinking has failed me once again.

But there is some good news...it would appear a tiny little nail is trying to grow in. When my nail was off, there was so much dried blood stuck to the nail and my skin. I started thinking if all that dried blood could affect the new nail growth. So I guess in the long run, I'm glad I did it. Even if it was, and still is, disgusting.

Move over cankle finger and make room for poop finger!

Here are some graphic pictures of the nail before and after it came off. Enjoy!

Lost: Season Two

I finished season two of Lost this afternoon. First of all...I knew that island was a fucking magnet! It's the only thing that made any sense on that island. Second of all, I've been dreaming of Lost the past couple of night. I'm sure that isn't healthy, but I'm not exactly complaining either.

So I still feel the same about the characters...

I can't stand Michael and Jack. Kate is slowly growing on me. As for new characters, the survivors from the tail of the plane, I liked all of them besides for Anna Lucia. I really liked "Libby" or "Elizabeth"...whatever her name is. I want to know more of her story, like why she was in a nut house.

I'm loving the way all the characters were connected before the crash. I think that holds some truth to the real world, somebody always knows somebody and that phrase gets thrown around all the time..."it's a small world."

I don't like that Jin is pregnant. How many babies are we going to have on this island?

What did John see on the wall when the door closed on his leg? Those hieroglyphics...what do they mean?

Charlie is stupid for getting rid of those drugs. John should have stopped him.

How many hatches are on the island? Why were the notebooks being sent to a field? Didn't those scientists think that one day someone might leave the hatch the explore the island and come across them? Dumb.

Where the hell did the statue come from and why does it have only four toes...more importantly, where is the rest of it? Are the "others" another species? Do they only have four toes? How did they get to the island? So many questions!!!

Hurley made a comment about time. There are stories about the Bermuda Triangle and time, I wonder if that has anything to do with this island?

I hope Michael gets eaten by a shark and Walt comes back.

I've noticed that anytime someone becomes romantically involved on the island (that were not before the crash) one person ends up dying. So I'm starting a list of people I want to see have relations in hopes that one will die...starting with Jack.

I feel bad for Desmond and Pen (is that her name?). She found him and he won't be there (I'm assuming)...she'll just find a really sad story...about 50 sad stories actually.

Again, I feel like I'm forgetting so much, but onward to season three!!!!

Hausu

After many hours of drinking and what have you, I purchased this movie on DVD last night. I don't even know what to say, I'm completely speechless. Watch the trailer and you'll understand.

Lost: Season One

I just finished watching the first season of Lost. As I've been telling people that I'm trying to watch seasons 1-5 of Lost before the premiere, everyone is eager to tell me something. I think only one is a real spoiler. I figured that at the end of every season I'll list what Lost fans have told me along the way, share any comments and questions I have about the previous season...starting with which characters I dislike and then which characters are my favorite. So, here we go:

What I've learned from friends:
1. Whenever it rains, something bad is supposed to happen.

2. After season three things can get a little out of control and sometimes ridiculous.

3. A man comes along that might have all the answers but he gets run over by a bus.

(Oh and I already knew that there are "others" on the islands. No one told me...I just don't live in a hole.)

Comments and questions about season one:
1. I'm starting to dislike many characters. Jack being the first. He irritates me on so many levels. He overreacts, he's bossy (leadership and bossy are different), he doesn't cooperate and he needs to get off his high horse. Kate is starting to annoy me too...I get it, you run and you killed the man you loved. Michael needs to calm his ass down and become a better example for his son.

2. My favorite characters are John, Sun, Sayid and Charlie.

3. I have mixed feelings on this French woman. What was with the "Beyond the Sea" written with math equations? Why is she still on the island after sixteen years? She seems intelligent, strong and knows so much about the island. I don't think she's as crazy as the rest believe.

4. So this "monster" is a security system? It was obviously not a real monster because it doesn't sound organic, it sounds...mechanical. Maybe they shouldn't be wondering what the monster looks like or what it does, but what it's protecting. Also, how does it know when to "attack"?

5. It was probably better off that Boone died. That whole weird semi-incest thing probably would have been a big burden for him on and off the island. Plus he had angry eyebrow...nobody likes that.

6. That raft was a bad idea. I think it's better to try and communicate using the resources on the islands. Sayid seems to be able to make anything work, might as well let him make a new radio. There are parts all over the island! That itty bitty raft just seems stupid. Especially endangering the welfare of Walt. Michael and him should have stayed put.

7. I kinda hope everyone on the island becomes heroin addicts.

8. When will Jack get the heroin to use for medicinal purposes? It only makes sense, it will take care of pain when someone is hurt.

9. Why did Ethan want Claire so bad? I'm assuming he's part of the "others", but why did they take her? Why did they want her back so badly? What does Danielle have to do with the "others" or was her trying to take Claire while she was pregnant a coincidence?

10. WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP CRASHING ON THAT ISLAND?! Is there some sort of magnet?

11. What's under the island?

12. I want to know more about the cursed numbers. I like that part of the story.

13. Where is that woman's husband? Or is she just in some serious denial?

14. I'm excited to hear the "others" stories.

15. I knew when Danielle said that the "others" were going to take "the boy" that it was Walt and not the baby. Walt has some sort of ability. He seems to know what's good and bad and what might happen. The baby has done nothing but cry. DUH. But I don't think Danielle knew that Walt was on the island. But it would appear that the "others" knew he was there and where to find him...even off the island.

16. I don't think Walt is going to be hurt because he's too special. But I do wonder how Michael, Jin and Sawyer are going to get to shore. I know they won't be rescued. There's probably just enough of the raft left to get back to shore or maybe whatever is under the island will pull them back. Guess I'll have to start season two to find out...


I know I had more to say but I can't remember everything and I don't want to bore to to death...just waste your time and make you feel numb. Oh television, you're the best drug there is.

Oh and as always, please no spoilers! Thanks :)

Welcome to Lost

So I started the series of Lost, as promised on December 2nd, and I'm watching as many episodes as I can before the final series premieres in January. I didn't understand completely the obsession with Lost until the pilot ended. I admit that I got hooked almost immediately. I'm enjoying most of the characters. The brother and sister annoy me a little, so I'm hoping that they become a little less useless and annoying soon. I like the flashbacks used to get to know the characters and their story...I'm a huge flashback fan.

I have many, many questions...

Polar bear? Really??
What is that "monster" in the jungle?
When will I meet the blurry people in the background of every beach shot?
What was up with that French chick?
Is this Island in a Bermuda Triangle of sorts?
Why was Kate arrested?
Why did Charlie give up his drugs so easily and quickly? Seemed unreal.

Please NO SPOILERS!

These are just thoughts or hypothetical questions I have about the show. I don't want to know the answers to them. So please don't tell me. :)

My brother is bringing over the Lost seasons to me on DVD to borrow...to speed things along. I'm too impatient right now to depend on Netflix. I'm about half way through the first season. I'm looking forward to catching up and getting completely lost in Lost.....yeah....sorry for that...the pun was intended.

Merry Christmas, Perverts

I think we know two individuals are on the naughty list this year.

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!

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.

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

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. :)

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.

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!

Little Adolf

I have no words. While looking up Halloween costume ideas I came across this picture.

Saturday Night Lady Love

Lady Gaga. Not a fan of her music, but a huge fan of her person. I've always enjoyed a dirty girl, anyone who is honest and raunchy gets two thumbs up from moi. Last night on Saturday Night Live she performed some of her songs in a medley on the piano. I suddenly respected her more and became a fan. I'm still not crazy for the pop stuff, but I definitely like the piano versions. So raw and beautiful. She doesn't have a voice that blows me away, but it didn't matter. The lyrics were cheesy and meaningless at times, but it still didn't matter. It caught my attention and I like it...sometimes it's just that simple.

Mameshiba

I'm usually not a fan of Japanese animation, but this is just fantastic. Cute, funny and weird, Mameshiba teaches us a valuable lesson...and a disturbing one at that. I only hope one day to find an adorable and wise creature in my peanut shell.

Perfect Trusting Strangers

I thought tonight was going be a rather dull and ordinary evening of me watching t.v. in bed all night, but I was dead wrong. I got a tweet from a friend asking if I could bring her coffee to her work. She works in the pharmacy at a drug store and told me to come to the drive thru window so she could give me a gift card to use at Starbucks. We laughed at how awkward and random the situation was of talking to one another through a microphone. Starbucks was in the same plaza, just a couple hundred feet away from the drug store. Before I pulled out of the drive thru to head over to Starbucks, I waited for a woman to cross. She looked at me as if she knew me, but I had never seen her in my life. She came over to my window and asked for a ride.

"Oh, I'm just going to Starbucks for a friend," I explain to her. She squinted her eyes behind those gray thick framed glasses from 1989, giving a tired look.

"Well, can you give me a ride?" she asked.

"To Starbucks?" I asked, confused.

"Yeah."

"It's right there," as I pointed, she looked over and squinted to the building just across the way. She seemed lost and confused.

"Oh, well I'm not from around here. I'm trying to find my friend and I need to get to the mall. Please, could you give me a ride there?"

"The mall?" I asked, knowing the closet mall was about twenty minutes away.

"Yeah, you know where Target and Wegmans is?"

"Oh! Yeah, but I'm really just getting coffee for my friend," I told her (Target and Wegmans were only ten minutes driving down the road).

"Oh please," she begged, "I've been standing outside of Walmart asking people for a dollar so I can get the bus down there. No one would give me a dollar. I'm cold and tired and it looks like it's going to rain."

"OK." I said with barely thinking. I moved my bag and coat off the passenger seat.

"Really?! Oh thank you so much! My name is Karen," she said while stretching her arm out to shake my hand.

"Hi, Karen. I'm Sarah," I said while shaking her hand. My friends coffee would be coming late.

"I really appreciate this. I've been standing outside for so long and you know those people had a dollar. I just want to find my friend. You see, I was just in some trouble and I just got out of trouble and I'm not looking for anymore trouble. I'm just so tired and thirsty...and hungry," she told me as I thought to myself that I must be insane.

"Well, that is a far way to walk, I've done it before. And if it was windy like this and about to rain, I'd hope someone would give me a ride too," I said to her wondering what kind of trouble she was talking about just before.

"God bless you! It's just so cold! Now let me ask you if I could borrow twenty or thirty dollars and I can pay you fifty dollars back? Or one-hundred dollars and I'll pay you back more later."

"You're asking the wrong person," I told her while laughing. I explained to her that I was just about flat broke. All the money I had in my bank account would fill my gas tank.

"Oh, well I understand. You know, it's not worth it. I've been in trouble and ain't nothing worth going back to where I was. You're not worth it. You know I could get six years for taking one-hundred dollars from you?" she asked.

"Wow. Six years for one-hundred dollars?" I asked, not so sure exactly what was happening.

"Mmmmhmmmm, six years. Listen, I'm just looking for my friend. I don't know this city. I got in some trouble here and ended up in jail and I just got out and all I'm looking for is some help."

"Oh. Does she live out this way?" I asked.

"I don't even know. I'm just so thirsty and hungry and tired. I've been drinking tap water out of store bathrooms. I haven't eaten in two days and I'm just so tired. I just need to get over there and look for her." she said while fumbling through her huge red purse. She saw me glance over.

"Well, if you're hungry I might have a couple of singles I could give you, but I'm not sure how much I have. I know it's not much."

"Bless you. Aren't you scared that I might kill you or something?" she asked me while still rummaging through her bag.

"Well, now I am!" I said to her being almost completely serious. "I wouldn't have opened my door for you though if you looked threatening."

"No, no, no. I don't mean anybody no harm. I just want to find my friend and stay out of trouble." I believed her. I might have been crazy, but I believed her. She did seem very tired, exhausted even, and very out of sorts.

"Well, believe it or not, it's not the first time I've invited strangers in my car," I said while trying to see what she had in that red bag. Sounded like a bunch of paper.

"Do you smoke, baby?"

"No, I don't. Sorry."

"Oh no, that's OK. I'll just roll a cigarette real quick," and she pulled out a bag of tobacco and rolling papers, "I shared this pack with a nice woman I met yesterday." The cigarette was rolled and resting between her two fingers by the time I looked back over at her. "Oh shoot, I can't find my lighter. You don't have a lighter do you?"

"I don't think so, no. I don't even have a lighter adapter for my car," I said, actually feeling sad.

"No? Not even one of those car lighter things?" she asked looking toward my dashboard.

"They don't make them in newer cars now. Isn't that weird?" I'm sure she cared.

"Oh wow. They don't make them anymore? What year is this car?" Or maybe she did...

"It's a '97, but it doesn't have a lighter adapter," I said while showing her the plug that would have been a cigarette lighter.

"Oh, I've never seen that before," she said and then continued to dig even deeper into that purse (she didn't care).

"So do you live around here?" I asked.

"Oh no, I'm staying at this place right before West Main Street."

"Oh," I said thinking how far that was, "did you walk all the way from there?"

She looked at my very seriously and then said, "Yes, it's a long walk. That's why I appreciate any help I can get."

"Wow, that is a long walk. I road my bike once from the city to out here," I told her. It was true. Two summers ago I road my bike from my apartment off Monroe Ave to my parent's house in Chili for no reason.

"Oh you did? That's a long way! Why would you do that?" she asked me.

"I don't know, I guess I'm impulsive," I said while laughing, "but I'll tell you that my dad gave me a ride home."

"Oh you're funny!" She laughed. She looked out the window, "I didn't realize how far this was...you can drop me off up here and I can walk."

"It's just up the road, it's really not that far. I can take you."

"Oh well I feel bad. I just need to go somewhere and get a drink, I'm so thirsty. You can drop me off up here, I don't want to trouble you anymore," she said while holding that rolled cigarette.

"I'll take you up here so you can find you're friend. I don't mind." I told her again.

"I really do appreciate this. It's hard to trust people these days and you're giving me a ride to help me and I thank you for that," she said.

"Well, like I said, I just hope someone would give me a ride if I was in your situation."

"Oh, well you can just drop me off that this gas station. I am going to run in there, get a water, find some food and find a light," she said pointing to the gas station on the right just across from Wegmans and Target.

"Alright," I said while turning into the gas station.

"I can't thank you enough for this ride. You have no idea how much you just saved me," she said to me as I pulled along side the building.

"You're welcome. Let me see if I can give you some money to help you out," I said while opening my wallet and finding only a five-dollar bill, "Here, please buy yourself something to eat," I said while handing her the money.

"God bless you! I will!"

"I want you to take care of yourself, alright?" I said.

"Oh I will. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

"Oh and one more thing," she turned to me before she got out of my car, "how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-six," I said.

"I'm forty-two. It was nice to meet you!" And off she went.

"Take care of yourself!" I yelled out the window as she walked into the gas station.

I drove back down the road to Starbucks and dropped off coffee to my friend. And that's how I spent my Tuesday night. Ah, to live another day.

New Look, Still Same Bloggy Taste!

My blog grew up to a more sophisticated looking blog. ::tear::

Sunday's On The Phone With Monday. Tuesday's On The Phone With Nicolas Cage.

Ever experience that you are living in tomorrow? Thinking it's a Wednesday, when in actuality it's Tuesday? The realization is always upsetting on a weekday and always exciting on a weekend. And sometimes you tell someone your mistake and they tell you that they thought that it was Wednesday too! This happened to me on Tuesday. I woke up thinking that it was Wednesday September 23rd 2009. It was actually Tuesday September 22nd 2009. I didn't realize it was Tuesday until I heard a commercial on the radio for the morning show they play on Wednesdays and that I wasn't listening to the show.

What happened when I fell to sleep? Why did I wake up thinking it was the following day? I posted a tweet about my silly mistake, thinking it was the wrong day. I got a response from a friend telling me that she too thought it was Wednesday. Now this is interesting. It makes me wonder how many other people thought it was Wednesday as well? What if it was Wednesday and everyone else thought it was Tuesday? Or maybe it really was Tuesday, but during sleep we entered the future...Wednesday. Did we do something in our dreams that made us advance in time? Maybe we already experienced the future, not like deja vu, but something more along the lines of a second chance? And when did I become so paranoid?

It all sounds like some semi-good movie, that holds better potential, staring Nicolas Cage.

Coming Attraction: My Dream

I had the most fantastic dream last night. It was so bizarre but real at the same time. It's been stuck in my head all day so I decided to write it down tonight. It turned into a short story with names hidden or changed. It is after all, just a dream. It wasn't real, but the people I dreamed about are very much real and a part of my life and it would be only fair (and less embarrassing for me) to keep everyone anonymous. I'm excited to edit it over the next few days and I'll post it on here sometime soon.

I went to school for writing. Even as a little kid, once I learned my letters I was crazy about writing them. I couldn't spell and I could barely write, but I would write letters on everything and anything I could. My baby book is filled with upside down R's and K's and random groupings of letters that I drew. My mom told me that I couldn't wait to write words as a little girl. I think it's cool that I had such an interest in writing as a 3-year-old. I lost the passion of writing when school began. It became a chore. I didn't get back interested into writing until college when I took a creative writing class. After a few weeks I became excited and was writing semi-decent short stories and better poems. After being in college for about seven years I became a pretty good writer, concentrating on poetry. I'm one class shy of BA degree in creative writing. But I haven't written anything really in close to three years now. Work got in the way and I just forgot about writing. Just never made the time for it anymore.

My writing is usually dark, obscene and often disturbing. Not in a thrilling sense, but in a creative way. I don't think I have ever written a love story, unless you count the story I wrote a few years ago about the one legged hooker who was sleeping with her brother, but there was something about the story in my dream that caught my attention. It seemed so real and made so much sense with it being as random and unlikely as possible. It is a love story. But it has it's own unique qualities. There is only one "scene" from my dream that I am leaving out of the story I wrote tonight...and that would be when actress Charlize Theron was following me in a wheelchair and pelting acorns at my legs. It was in my dream, but doesn't fit with the rest of the story. I do assure you though that the story is full of equally bizarre moments.

Gene: The Instamatic 800

I bought an old camera today from a thrift store while looking for old records. Nothing too fancy about it, but it caught my eye. I've been meaning to buy an old camera just for fun. It cost me less than $4 and besides for some minor wear and tear it just might work. After bringing it home I looked up the camera to see what I was dealing with. What I bought turns out to be a Kodak Instamatic 800, was made around 1965 and sold for about $130 (going for about $70 now online). I'm really excited to buy some batteries and film for this little camera, well it's actually quite bulky. Regardless, I hope it works and I'm excited to share pictures once I figure out how to work Gene. Oh yeah, I named my camera Gene. With a camera this handsome it deserves a name!

Zooey Deschanel, Will You Marry Me?

As if I thought I couldn't fall in love more with Zooey Deschanel, I found out a few weeks ago that she has a band and I am totally swooning over it...non stop. The name? She & Him. The album? Volume One. I fall asleep with the songs in my head, I wake up singing a tune, I listen to it on the way to work, listen at work and listen on the way home from work. If you have a passion for music, I highly recommend getting this album. The music is old fashioned and just so beautiful. I first heard Deschanel's voice when she sang some Christmas tunes in the holiday comedy Elf. Her voice reminded me of old music and I became a huge fan of hers. So when I came across her band I almost peed my pants in excitement. The album couldn't download fast enough! There are a few remakes on the album that are just fantastic, including a Beatles's number! No matter how busy you are this weekend, get the album! Click on the link to check out the band's site and then please proceed to buy the album. Oh, and Zooey is engaged...but sadly, not to me.

Ladies and Gentlemen, The Beatles...Rockband

I made a selfish decision yesterday and bought The Beatles Rockband for my Nintendo Wii. Although I wanted to get the limited edition bundle which came with two replica instruments, I kept hearing that the "instruments", controllers, were quite sucky. Total heart breaker, but I figured the game experience would be better if I could actually play so I bought the regular, not so cool, instruments. And let me tell you, the instruments should not be a deciding factor for you because I spent well over five straight hours playing drums on medium yesterday. I'm waiting for everyone to wake up so I can finish the game on medium, perfect my scores, move on to beating it on medium with the guitar and then start it all over again on hard. God, I'm such a dweeb. But the game is so friggin awesome!

The game has a story mode, so you play selected songs chronologically. Before each chapter begins the game gives you a rather quick run down of The Beatles entering that specific year by flashing pictures. I was actually looking for more when it came to this, but it's still pretty cool and fun. After a chapter is complete you can play the songs from that chapter in one sitting, it's called a chapter challenge. I haven't tried it yet, I want to get through all the nitty gritty first. But at the end of every song you collect rare photos or videos that are saved to the game and you can go back and check them out. The coolest thing, that caught me by surprise, is the video playing in the background during the songs. The game did a great job by putting the "actual" footage on there! It's computerized, but it's mimicking the actual footage of concerts or videos. And the graphics look great! And, of course, there is a quickplay mode so you can play whatever song you like whenever you like.

I haven't checked out the song list online yet, but you can buy and download more songs. Which I plan on doing. There is a good amount of songs on the game to begin with, but as any Beatles fan....I want more! Hopefully they'll release as many songs as possible. I highly recommend any Beatles fan to go out and buy this game. Get a system if you don't have one (the game is out for PlayStation 3, XBOX 360 and Nintendo Wii), get the instruments (if you don't already have them the bundle pack that I bought was a pretty good deal- drums, guitar, mic and the game for a total of $151) and get rockin'!!!!

April Smith, I Find You Simply Delicious

About a week or so ago I caught the end of a song that caught my attention. I have the song ID application on my phone so I quickly fumbled to try and figure out who was singing. Song ID could not identify the artist or song, but I caught the DJ say the details right before I pulled into my driveway. I was listening to April Smith and the Great Picture Show and the song was "wow and flutter". I jotted down the info and haven't checked Ms. Smith out until a few minutes ago. I'm in love. I checked out her myspace page, which you should do too! Or you can visit her website. I plan on going out within the next hour or so and grabbing her album. You can buy it on itunes, her website or even on her myspace page, but I like having an actual hard copy. Something just seems better about owning an actual disc. She says she sounds like "The Beatles fronted by the Andrews Sisters" and if that isn't worth checking out, then I don't know what is. I'm just glad that I came across her name and tunes.

But wait. She's so kick ass that she wants to make a new album, but wants the freedom of being able to be herself on the record. So instead of having a label, she wants her fans to support her. She's on kickstarter, a way for good people to do something good. Check out her video on kickstarter, which is informational and quite amusing. It might make you fall in love with her even more...worked for me! You can find out more on her website as well.

And I'll just say "you're welcome" now ;)

Home Sweet Home

Looks like I might be renting my mom's house from her in the near future. Nothing is finalized, it's just been brought up really. I'm keeping my fingers crossed though. This would be perfect. More details to come. Wish me luck!

McDonald Adventures

After saying that we would only stay out at the bar till about 11pm, we heard the "last call" warning and hurried out the door. It was 2am and one of my friends wanted McDonald's. We walked over to the golden arches, which might be comforting to some but repulsive to me, and got in line for the drive thru window...on foot. Drivers and their passengers snickered at us as if we were some kind of freaks of humanity. The only thing different about them and us was that they were hiding their fatty selves inside a vehicle, we choose the healthier and more environmental friendly way of taking healthy steps...to a fast food restaurant. It was our turn before we knew it! We stood in front of the intercom system and waited for a friendly greeting asking to try some new item that no one ever really wants...nothing. Hmmm. "Maybe a car has to trigger a sensor?" we thought. The three of us spread out over the cement rectangle, about the size of a SUV, and began jumping in various places. The man behind us kept saying that all he wanted was two double cheeseburgers and fries. We told him to wait his turn. "HELLOOOO???" I said to the speaker. No response. I walked up and knocked on it. Still nothing. Rude. The line was getting longer, so we let some cars go ahead of us. I rested my elbow on the intercom speaker and leaned against it while drivers placed their order. They acted as if I wasn't even there, just placed their order and drove away. Annoyed that they were all greeted and served, I tilted my head towards the speaker as the next car drove up and yelled that they were rude for not serving us because we did not have a car. Silence. Then the driver started to place her order, I tried to speak over her into the intercom this time saying that it's discriminatory not to serve someone because they lack a vehicle. All of this, of course, was me being a jack ass. I don't even like McDonald's. But my friends were hungry and I was bored. After trying to fight the good fight we gave in and got ourselves a car.

We pulled up to the intercom system and one of my friends asked if they served those who do not have cars. Some kid who actually makes more money than me and has health insurance (unlike myself) just gave us a simple "no." The ladies ordered their food and we sped off into the night...well, around the corner to where one of my friends lives. They ate their fast food and yearned for more of it's greasy, salty goodness. So back we went!

This time as we approached the parking lot we noticed a man and woman trying to order without a car. They looked frazzled, upset and best of all...drunk. We yelled to them that we tried ordering food without a car and they wouldn't let us. The woman, Nicole, seemed as shocked as we were. There is no sign with a walking pedestrian circled in red with a line through it or a cardboard sign stabbed in the landscape telling customers "pedestrians not permitted" (it is called a "drive thru", but you can walk into a drive-in movie theater). They seemed bummed, let down and like they were losing their buzz. Just then a light bulb went on over my head. "Do you have cash?" I asked the hungry strangers. "Huh? What?" They asked, obviously disoriented from their hunger and lack of respect from the McDonald employees. "Do you have cash?" I asked again. "Yeah, we have cash," they both said. "Well, get in!" I yelled to them. Neither one of them thought twice about getting into an unknown car. Introductions were made quickly. "Curry," the man said. "Are you Indian?" my friend asked him, "cause I am." He ignored her question...which was probably for the better since she was talking about two total different cultures. My other friend was feeling around under the passenger seat while this was going on and yanked out my orthopedic insoles for when I go walking. "What the fuck???" She asked while flopping them in my face. "My insoles!" I screamed in excitement (I had thought I lost them). I snatched the rubbery footprin shapes and tucked them into the visor above my head. I pulled up to the intercom., everyone shouted out their orders. Curry ordered a happy meal. And happy he was. I pulled into a nearby parking space so everyone could get their orders organized and put into the right hands. Our fast food hitchhikers thanked us repeatedly as they left with their food. I asked them to do one thing, "pay it forward."

We stayed in that parking spot for a little while reminiscing about the night. "Is it really after 3?" I asked knowing that I had to be up at 5:30 for work. Next thing we know a man comes jumping out of the bushes next to us and yelling. It was our new friend Curry! We all yelled back to him and how nice it was to meet the both of them. He continued running and yelling down the street till he vanished from our sight. I'm sure he was on some sort of opiate or psychedelic....lucky bastard. Then we heard yells from behind us in the drive thru line. A rather tall drag queen got out of someones passenger seat and strutted to the car behind them. She began yelling and doing some sort of gestures to the men in the car that were yelling. We felt bad for her so we took it upon ourselves to get involved. My friend began yelling at the men to leave the drag queen alone. "No, you be nice!" They yelled back at her. We all looked at one another and laughed at how immature it sounded. Two can play at that game. My friend began a game of repeat. Anything those hate-filled men yelled at us, she yelled it right back. It continued without anyone missing a breath until they got their food and drove off. I let out a sigh and mentioned to my lovely ladies that it was late and that we should all probably call it a night.

It seemed to be enough excitement for one night...and that was all after the bar! We went our separate ways and said goodnight. On my way home I started to become rather worried about the time. If I raced home and went right to sleep, I'd get a little over 2 hours. Do I even go to sleep? Sometimes it's better to just pull an all-nighter. As I was debating what the best option was I noticed that the car in front of my came to an abrupt stop on the expressway, as did everyone else. I slammed on my brakes like the rest of them and was trying to figure out why I went from 70mph to 0mph in 5 seconds. Then I saw a cop car blocking traffic. He wasn't letting anyone through. "Oh no! It's a DWI stop!" I quickly thought. Had I been drinking? Yes. Was I alright to drive? Yes. But I was still nervous. I started to fumble through my bag looking for either some mints or gum to cover up any left over beer breath. I imagined him coming up to my car...."No officer, I have not been drinking," I would say. "Ok ma'am, have a good night...my, what minty fresh breath you have!" the portly officer would say back to me. "Oh officer! You know just what to say to make a girl blush!" Then I found my mints! I began eating them as if I was shoveling handfuls of popcorn down my throat at the latest blockbuster film. I kept a watchful eye, trying to see where Officer charmer was. My mouth hurt and my throat was on fire. As it turned out it wasn't a stop at all. There has been construction going on and new overhead signs were being mounted, unfortunetly closing the expressway for a while. Aggravated that I wasted all those mints, had a rather uncomfortable sensation in my mouth and that it was well after 3:30am now I grew more and more mad at myself for staying out so late. Eventually traffic was let through and I got home a little before 4am. By the time I washed my face, brushed my teeth, had a coughing fit (I'm sure brought on from the mints) and drank some water it was 4:30. I put my head on my pillow and drifted away for one hour.

Cold Souls

While doing some harmless, but still creepy, celebrity stalking yesterday, I came across a new movie coming out rather soon. I glanced at the cast list and then thought I'd read the first two sentences of the plot (always my test to rate my interest in just about anything). I made it to sentence four or five, which is a good sign! It meant that it was worth watching the trailer. I didn't want the trailer or to end once it got started. If you loved Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Adaptation and Being John Malkovich than be prepared to have your eyes widen, you're heart to palpitate and maybe even a little forehead sweat. Paul Giamatti plays a character named Paul Giamatti in Cold Souls. Check out the site and watch the trailer.

Button Lady

I have an odd request to satisfy my never ending, sometimes quirky, imagination...buttons. As a kid I always like buttons. I remember being jealous of Dennis the Menace because he always had a button in his pocket. I guess I could of put one in my pocket, but it seemed planted and fake. The things in Dennis' pocket seemed random and non staged. Sometimes I would check my pockets at night to see if a button got in there some how before I threw my pants into the hamper. Never did happen. The word itself holds so much charm. Just say it. "Button." The charm is effortless.

So I'm writing this blog as a plea to my people. My button people. To the people that don't save anything or the people that save everything. Next time you buy a sweater or a pair of pants that comes with an extra button, don't throw it out. And if you see a button laying on the ground of a Target or one snuggling safely against the curb of the road...pick it up! Collect all the buttons you can find and donate them to me! It would put a smile on my face. Thanks guys!

Oh, and I'm really not crazy. I have ideas for these buttons. :)

How the Flour City Brewery Festival Tried to Destroyed my Body

The Brew Fest was a blast last night! We tried almost every beer and had some more than once. At first we were a little nervous when we saw the lines, but a line filled with about 20 people lasted only 2 minutes. You waited, gave your glass to the person with a keg, said "thank you" and moved along to the next line. In line you drink what you have in your glass. Sometimes the line would go too fast and you'd have to chug your beer because it was your turn for more free, tasty beer! Oh and wine too! The place was full of happy douche bags, drunk cougars and everyone else in between. We all understood one another: get in, get out and keep moving. Surprisingly there were no fights. Just beer lovers in a world of paradise. But paradise has to end eventually right? When you're up you have to come back down.

And that's when I'm pretty sure I tried to poison my body last night with all the beer, cloves and cigarettes. I used to be able to go all night and be up by 8am feeling like a million bucks. Not so much anymore. My body has gotten used to being pampered and treated as it should. Today I feel like someone tore out my throat and everything attached to it down to my stomach, poured some ajax down it and then put it back as they found it...hopefully. I forgot why I stopped smoking while I drank, this morning I remember. And I'm sure I'll remember for the rest of today because when I talk I sound like the woman from Beetlejuice that smoked through her neck. Oh and the taste of Marlbro that is sticking to the inside of my mouth like a bumper sticker you've been trying to scrap off your car but it's just baked on there from the sun. Water. Lots of water. It's the only way I can apologize to my body for what I put it through last night.