That was the worst thing I ever put in my mouth*

*and other awkward things you probably shouldn't say to your co-workers.

There was so much to type while I was busybusybusy at work today, and now it all wants to escape. I have some down time before yoga, though, so I thought I'd get it all out before my caffeine buzz wears off.

------------

Erm, scratch that -- went to yoga, then ran a few miles, and then had dinner. What happened was I ended up taking a phone call and talking to Laura instead of blogging, so you get me now at 10, instead of 5. I also quickly want to say that actually laughing out loud at work is only okay when most of the office is gone -- thank God for that.

So, anyway. Yesterday felt like several days.

I worked late, but between two and four-thirty didn't have anything to do. It was awkward, and kind of a bummer because I had to work late, but not long enough to get any overtime. Anything between thirty-seven and a half and forty-five hours in a week is a wash, actually. So I was riding the T pretty late, and it was kind of empty, and for some reason, I started thinking about New York. and my grandma. And sometimes I still get profoundly sad about losing her, and all these things remind me of her. I mean, it could be anything, but things that are inextrinkably linked to my grandma are New York, the subway; especially when I'm looking over the barrier, certain songs, morning glories, roses, and mangos. Yesterday, it was the subway. It kept crashing over me like waves. The feeling of loss, the emptiness, the tears. I couldn't keep it together the whole time, so I was grateful for the relatively empty train. I mean, when I was riding back to the apartment in New York from work (all the way from Trinity Church to 91st Street, y'all), I was sobbing, and hugging myself and bending over (And still - I couldn't get a seat. That's New York for you. Too many crazies for anyone to notice that I was in complete grief and maybe offer me their seat), and basically having a fit to be tied. All of that emotion crashed over me last night for a few stops. I let it. Sometimes I need to let the grief embrace me so that I don't need to go looking for it. I can be happy when I think of her if I allow myself to be sad for myself occasionally, I guess.

Anyway, I was fine once I was above ground. I felt silly, even. But through all of that, I forgot about getting off at Porter instead to pick up my dry cleaning, so I had to walk from Davis to Porter. I decided to call Ben. I knew he was leaving for Japan in a matter of weeks, and the voicemail I left seemed appropriate because it's Ben, but I implied that he should probably call me back before he leaves the country [in what, to me, was still "the unknown near future"]. Why this was funny was waiting for me at home: a facebook message telling me that he was actually leaving on Saturday (!) If that's not fate, I don't know what is.

So I talked to Ben for a bit. It's funny, because I think he'll be more accessible now that the blog is set up, and now that he's got a computer :) but I'm going to miss him just the same. Aside from Alisa, I'm mostly out of local friends with whom sitting around doing nothing is considered the most awesome weekend, ever.

Today was just batshit insane. Oh, no wait, it started yesterday. With the t-shirt fiasco, which quickly turned into the t-shirt joke of 2006. Haha. No really, guys. It's actually funny. I swear. Haaaa. See? See, we turned it into fun by having a t-shirt design war. During work. I mean. On our own time. This was the winner, by the way, designed by Laura:



If I can get permission, I'll post what I wish were going to be WILG's rush t-shirt. Seriously. My friends are too freakin' hilarious to handle. I also wish it didn't cost $200 to get any reasonable amount of t-shirts printed.

I'm very excited about tomorrow. I get to fill out health insurance forms and pick the stock options or whatever for my 401K (that's pronounced four-oh-wunk, right?) -- hooray!

I hope it works

Gah. I took it down because the DAMN javascript was being pissy and not letting me load my page.

More trouble than it was worth.

Gar.

(but if you had bloglines, it's still published there...if you don't -- all the more reason to get it!)

Jessica is all kinds of awesome

She emailed me a link to this today:

Set List From Snow Patrol's Boston Show

Because someone on the Snow Patrol forum was kind enough to post this for me, even though most of you probably don't care, but this is my blog and I post what I want to muahahaha:

Spitting Games
WOW
Chocolate
Beginning To Get To Me
Headlights
Grazed Knees
Chasing Cars
Shut Your Eyes
How To Be Dead
Somewhere A Clock Is Ticking
Make This Go On Forever
Ways And Means
Run
You're All I Have
----------
Open Your Eyes
Tiny Little Fractures

Penguins...with Guns!

I leave you with this photo-narrative to demonstrate the danger of penguins with guns:

Me & Emma

I just finished reading a book called Me & Emma, and like most books that I pick up and buy for no good reason, I don't know how to feel about this one yet.

See, it has a twist ending that I think I should have picked up on earlier. It's not exactly a brilliant twist, and it makes me think that if I were "smarter" about these things I would have known how the book would end just from the blurb on the back cover.

You know...I set my alarm clock ten minutes ahead. And while I know it, and am completely conscious of it at all times, it still "tricks" me. I mean, I let it. I do it with movies, too.

I don't know if I enjoy it, though. I like feeling "smart," but I also like being entertained. And so I don't know how I feel about being tricked.

Pandora

I've been over at pandora a lot lately, trying to find new music. I don't know what it is, but I get really comfortable with bands and songs and then don't bother to venture outside of them. Then they get stale because I listen to them too often (Motion City Soundtrack? Anything by Franz Ferdinand?), and by the time I'm in a rut, I'm not prepared for something new. I'm trying to nip that in the bud, but the problem is how long it takes me to get used to new things. Some of my favorite songs end up being ones I hated when I first bought some album and listened to it straight through.

Anyway, my point -- (get to it, already). Well, my point is kind of funny. The bands being recommended to me aren't all new, which is...irritating. It means I haven't figured out how to use this site. See, I started a Dandy Warhols station. Then, they played one of my all time favorite songs by Stars. I was like, "Oh, cool. Dandy Warhols --> Stars...let's add Stars to the station and see what kind of music we get." So then I start listening to the Smashing Pumpkins. So...yeah, it wasn't working like I wanted it to.

Still, it's very awesome. I recommend it. I found a few new bands on my Snow Patrol station, and I'm trying Keane now.

----------

EDIT
I've come full circle; my Dandy Warhols/Stars station just recommended Snow Patrol

*emo tear* for the end of SYTYCD Season 2

Ohmigod Teresa is right. Here it is, Thursday afternoon and I still have not updated about SYTYCD.

And about how Benji won.

And how he cried, and so did his dad.

And how I want to marry him and have lots of his babies.

Travis, maybe, was the "better dancer," (by whose standards? Not mine. But that's what everyone seems to say) but his attitude wasn't always as good as Benji's. He has an arrogance that is backed up with talent, but next to Benji's shining, wonderful personality, Travis looked like a wee *teensy* bit of a jerk. I do hope Mia offers him a job, though. I despise Mia as a TV personality, but she's a great coreograhpher, and she couldn't get enough of Travis, it seems. And in the end, I really think that based purely on talent, Allison should have won.

Not that I'm not happy Benji won! He will do amazing things with the prize money. And he's not really suited to Celine Dion's show (apparently the winner "won" an audition. I feel gypped. And lied to), so I'm glad he's considering not taking it.

Evidently, Lacey Schwimmer will be auditioning next season. She's been maintaining Benji's myspace while he's been on Fox, so I feel like I know her -- I hope she makes it!

And in case this is the sort of thing you find interesting, there have been pictures of Travis in drag all over teh Internets...But I found most of them on a blog through Technorati.

Except when it's not

My to do list as of July 24th should be updated to read:

1. Get job
2. Organize sock drawer

I'm kind of flexible on number two (haa. I said number two).

Okay, people. Even though I want to make a very important point - that this blog is about the love^TM - I'm going to start with gripe that, to the naked eye, might prove otherwise. Ready?

I try to extend people the same courtesy that I would expect for myself [from them]. I don't always succeed, because like most Americans people, I'm pretty self-absorbed and half the time I walk around like I'm entitled to more politeness than the people around me, even though I've done nothing to deserve it. So fine, sometimes people are jerks, and...well, everyone deserves a by - I get them all the time. I don't always get butt-flaming pissed when someone does something really rude anymore, either, and I think I've gotten my temper and how I handle situations to a good place. Sometimes it becomes Too Much, though, and I have to rant here, or call someone a bitch on the T. This morning, I sat next to a woman on the train. She was reading her copy of the Metro, and I was reading mine, and everything was peachy for four stops. Things didn't go to shit until Kendall/MIT, when she stopped folding her paper and started getting all up in my space to read it, probably assuming I'd move to another open seat, now that the train was emptying. I let it go, because I was already halfway to my destination and all the open seats were in between occupied ones, anyway. Unfortunately, at Charles MGH, the train was stopped for a while longer than usual, and as more time passed, I was becoming ever so slightly more annoyed. I stopped doing my crossword puzzle to change the song on my ipod, and i dropped my paper onto my lap, which would fall under the category of "in my space", and it fell onto her paper. I did do this to be rude, but also because I wasn't visibly annoyed yet, so it could have been an honest "mistake," and maybe she didn't realize, and this would clue her in. She was onto me, though, and she shook my paper off onto my lap and proceeded to keep reading in my space, taking up more now that it was "on." After Park Street, there were a million open seats, so when the whole row across from us was open, I decided to let her "win" and move, because she was clearly on a mission to be This Morning's Biggest Bitch. I didn't move before informing her that she was a bitch, though. She was unfazed, but hopefully karma will catch up with her and she'll fall on her face sometime today, or get hit by a car, or get shit on by twelve pigeons. All at once. Granted, this rant comes after a string of equally self-centered mbta riders this week who have taken advantage of the way I obviously and with great purpose try to only take up the space within my designated seat area. Throwing your legs apart, fully opening a newspaper, sticking your elbows out...just generally feeling entitled to more space than your seat and a small buffer around you, all make you an asshole. There. I said it.

Moving on, I checked my survey count for the past two months, and it's two. Three if you count the one I took down because my feelings were hurt. Hurt is the wrong word, but it's the closest one I can come up with at the moment. Now, here's where I say this blog is about the love^TM -- Except when it's not. Rants, gripes, commiseration; all pertaining to topic, or even slightly off topic...and hell, even COMPLETELY off topic, are all appreciated by yours truly, and yes. Mostly if they're not about me. Sorry. Comments of the negative strain are less appreciated because no one likes to be bitched at. Fortunately, I haven't actually gotten any of those nasty comments here on blogger, but I remember a few times on d-land where people thought it was okay to come into your space on teh Internets and call you all sorts of awful names for having any opinion at all. That's not what this blog is about (and if I really sit and think about it, I can't imagine how my other blogs were opinionated, either...but I digress). What I choose not to publish here is my business. Sometimes life becomes...very complicated. Sad. Confusing. Boring. Any of these things can cause a dryspell in the update because I've learned not to share everything with y'all all the time, especially when the topics make me cry and I don't want to hear "constructive criticism," and unless it's explicitly solicited, it's usually interpreted as "I know more than you do, and I'm right and you're wrong, and you suck." Even if you're trying to help.

That said, what I DO choose to publish here is also my business. If I wanted to post daily images of Stuff on my Cat, I could do that (*my own point starts to dawn on me. I start to feel stupid*). If I wanted to post a daily survey or meme, I could. And I do consciously try not to post them too frequently. But, you know? Surveys are the opiate of the blog-masses. Especially on myspace which I refuse to utilize for that purpose for some reason, but it's where I borrow a lot of these surveys from. And then my [cool] friends [with blogs] do them, too, and I feel vindicated.

I mean, I don't want to lose readership. Especially of friends. But for some reason, the comment area seems like a more valid forum to say, "Hey, what's up with all the surveys lately? Tell us about your life!" (Which, PS, is the polite way to say "maybe you should stop with the online quizzes"). But instead of filling you in on the torrid backstage happenings of the blog, I'll stop there. The moral is: do not talk about fight club. This blog is a place to keep in touch with me, fine. But blog stuff stays on the blog. Or gets toned down from "up in my grill for no reason" to "pleasant inquiry from a friend." Capisce?

So, from now on, this blog will be all about the love^TM. Okay?

if the ecstacy's in the wit is definitely out

The concert last night was amazing. Not just Snow Patrol, who put on a PHENOMENAL show, but also the opening band - Aberdeen City. The lead singer [Brad Parker] was a hottie, as was the lead guitarist [Chris McLaughlin, I think]. The sound was just what you'd expect for a Snow Patrol opener, and I plan on buying a CD in the near future. The funny thing about the opening act was that Chris was acting like he was completely smashed. He was drinking from a Boston Lager bottle, and he was stumbling all over the place, he knocked over the mic, and he threw stuff at the drummer a few times. After the show, though, he walked to the front of the stage where he was talking to someone he knew, and it was obvious that he was almost stone cold sober. I thought it was a funny act to put on, but maybe his guitar playing is like my dancing.

He was quite the hottie, though...

When Snow Patrol came on the stage, the first two rows jumped up and went to the railing. Of course, I followed suit, but I got a spot on the side of the stage, so I didn't catch any picks or drumsticks. Instead, I got a gorgeous view of Paul Wilson, which is somewhat of a compromise:

The theme of the evening was pants. Or trousers, as Gary [Lightbody. Of Snow Patrol] calls them (because he's Irish). The lead singer from Aberdeen City [Brad] said, "Wow. I didn't know there were going to be so many people here so early. I would have worn tighter pants."

Then Gary mentioned how they'd been on Newbury Street earlier that day to buy him some trousers for the show that night. "These," he said, and pointed at the seat of his pants, and then he commented on how tight they were, and that Boston (squeee) was the place to get trousers. I laughed. I wondered if they'd been listening to Aberdeen.

Look at those pants!!!

All in all, it was probably one of the best experiences of my life. Earnestly. I'm more than a little bit in love with this band (also? I knew ALL of the songs. That's actually never happened to me at a concert before. It probably helped that they only used repertoire from their US released CDs, but still. I win). I can't thank you enough, Ben. I only wish someone had been here to use that extra ticket.

Cry Me A River

I'm taking a quick "break" to update, because I really wanted to, even though I can't remember what I wanted to say.

I went to yoga tonight. It completely kicked my ass. Seriously. It hurt and it was hard, and by the end, all of my muscles were shaking so badly I could barely do the balancing poses. It was awesome. Someone said something disparaging the other day about "needing" a class to get yourself to a gym, but I don't think that's it at all. This same person did cross country in high school and I doubt that they would have gone running by themselves, actually, because they hated running. They loved how they felt afterwards, but the motivation was joining the team. I can go to the gym by myself, and do the elliptical and lift some weights, and it gets stale and boring. The best thing about yoga is that when class is over, I jump on an elliptical and kick it's ass. I just get...Happy and exhilarated and sometimes a little angry and it gives me the push that I need. So there's nothing wrong with preferring to work your schedule around a class because you know it will make your work out better, and if someone wants to interpret that as "needing" the class to get me to the gym, then, well, you know. Whatever. Today was awesome.

I had a similar thought recently about "needing" to be in a relationship. And I know that "needing" to be in one is unhealthy. I do. And I don't know if I've reached a healthy place in my life about all of that yet (well, honest to God? I know I haven't), but I did realize that there's nothing wrong with wanting to find someone to be with - eventually. I know I want a husband and family. Someday. I just need to not let that pressure me into thinking any particular way now.

Okay, msn radio totally pissed me off, promising Gnarls Barkley, but playing Justin Timberlake instead, after the commercial. Bastards. (P.S. -- Justin Timberlake is way better off...Britney Spears?! WHAT was he thinking?!)

So, I'm at work now, definitely trying to get some work done, but I just wanted to update about yoga, and not fling my computer out the window.

Alison Krauss - Forget About It

Forget about it
I'm admittin' I was wrong
And I'll just take what's mine
And walk right out the door
Forget about it
I'll split and I'll be gone
And you'll have memories
You'll find hard to ignore
'Cause after all
I see you sometime
Maybe when I can't recall
How you drove me crazier
Forget about it
When forever's over
I won't remember how much
I loved you anymore
Forget about it
Put me out of your head
Now that you're free and easy
Out there on the town
Forget about it
When you're lying in bed just wishing
I was there to lay you down

'Cause after all
I see you sometime maybe
When you will recall
How I drove you crazier
Forget about those stars in your eyes
Laying by the fireside
Holding you tight
I can't remember when I felt so right
So just forget about it

Forget about it
When you see me on the street
Don't wink, don't wave
Don't try to tease me with your smile
Forget about it
If we chance to meet somewhere
Don't think it's cause I'm trying to reconcile

'Cause after all
I see you sometime maybe
When I can't recall
How you drove me crazier
Forget about those stars in your eyes
Laying by the fireside
Holding you tight
I can't remember when I felt so right
So just forget about it

Potpourri

Wow, I have not had the energy or time to post, and while a lot has happened, most people who read this were there for some of it, so that just made me even more lax on the update. I'll try to make this entry easy to skim, since it will be long.

Lesley and Steve's wedding:

The wedding itself was beautiful. I cried so many times, but I suppose that isn't a shocker since I started crying when I opened the program before the ceremony started. The bridesmaids were all beautiful, but particularly Lauren, Margaret and Lindy. And, well, the groomsmen, too -- and one in particular.

Anyway, I can't even begin to describe the ceremony, but suffice it to say, it was beautiful, and I can only hope for such a perfect wedding, myself. But since I can't do the wedding justice, I'll just have to spend some time talking about my friends. See, I started my new job the day after the wedding, so I was particularly sober for all of this, which made it so much more hilarious (Laura also angles that it was hilarious to watch me dance because evidently I was dancing like I was drunk (like a spaz?), but I swear I was very sober for that portion of the evening). Anyway, I danced with the sweetest guy ever (nothing came of it), but the real fun was in Alisa and Jess' corners.

There's this friend of Steve's named Ted, who Lesley keeps trying to set up with Alisa because he runs and likes Family Guy -- two things Alisa also really enjoys. But Alisa claimed that she wasn't really that into him, and was somewhat indignant (she is Alisa after all) that "all they have in common is Family Guy and running," and besides, he got a Family Guy quote wrong once at Trivia night. So towards the middle of the evening, we came across Ted by the bar, where he was wowing how his gin and tonic didn't taste much like tonic, and we all tried it. Alisa knew who he was because she mentioned the running and Family Guy, and disparaged him a bit for getting that quote wrong, and they talked for a while. We mentioned that Alisa had learned how to booty pop, and he said that the DJ was going to play Gold Digger for them, so she should go and show him her popping skills. After he left, Laura and I mentioned "Ted," and Alisa asked, "Who's Ted???" They did end up dancing with each other, but Ted has DADD or something (Drunken Attention Deficit Disorder), and that was sort of that (which is kind of how mine ended up, too. Sad boys.)

Jessica disappeared for a good portion of the evening with a guy named Gordon. His last name escapes me, and while I wouldn't post it on this blog, anyway, the reason it's important is because we kept calling him "Gordon Fisherman, you know, like the fishsticks." (We're good people) Jessica got the most action, since she "kissed him for, like, five seconds." Oy, these boys!

Red Sox Game

I got to see a pretty exciting game yesterday. Karissa and Mark were also recently married, and they had a small reception at the MIT boathouse for their Boston-based friends, and then they took us to see the Red Sox play Baltimore. It was a pretty good game (esp. when we won). I'm pretty indifferent to the first four innings, in general, and that was true yesterday, but I was pretty jazzed by the end (and we got to sing Sweet Caroline, so the day was complete).

The only problem was the woman sitting behind us. She was very pro breast-feeding, and belongs to an organization that promotes it. My only experience with this has been on the blogosphere with women who wanted to breast feed but couldn't, and were harassed by women like this. And I mean, hell...Even if you didn't want to breast feed...It's your decision. In my own personal opinion, it's so much less worse than this kid we saw who ate his own bagel, then proceeded to get his morning milk from mom, but you know? My business is no one else's and I try to extend the same courtesy (even though I was judging that woman with all my ability to judge).

Once she and her snot-nosed little rugrats left, the game was much more pleasant, but the kids were everywhere that day. On the way home, we saw this kid who would not stop asking questions! He seemed incredibly smart and precocious, but I couldn't hold it together at one point, and just started laughing at him. His dad seemed slightly tired of the questions, and I felt badly for him, but man -- it was too funny. Then, Alisa and I saw this guy totally staring at his fingers and both of us turned to each other and went, "I know they're called fingers but I've never seen them fing...Oh no wait...There they go." Then we both had to consciously keep from staring at our hands -- or laugh.

Other Stuff

This library plan I'm working on is in Swedish...So I'm freaking out a little bit. I mean, metric is hard enough, but Swedish?! It's kind of awesome, and kind of intimidating.

I bought (a) ticket to see Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins on Oct. 9th. Go me. Being all...Independent and shit. I can't think of anyone who would go with me, so I just bought a ticket. This show is two days after the SYTYCD live tour - which I am going to with friends (double yay).

That's about all I can think of. This isn't severely long, I guess...But that's all I've got to say for now.

Another Knitting Celebrity

Dr. Zoidberg

Is it time to switch to tea yet?

I figured out a workout schedule that will accommodate my TV shows, but it requires going to group classes at the Club Tuesdays and Thursdays at 6:45 in the A.M. This sounds awful, but I think I can do it. I think...

Today was gorgeous -- not too hot, even on the chilly side in the morning -- so I ate lunch outside with the other interns. On Fridays, the young'uns in the office get together for lunch, which is just one of the social perks I missed last year.

I'm still meeting people, and it's so awkward (I'm so awkward)...but there are some really nice folk here. I could get used to it.

Well, I was going to super-update, but it's happy hour, and the bar is calling...or so says the little "[beer]" "smiley" on my Instant-T messenger thingy. I'm with Juny, someone should run around the office screaming "Happy Hour!!!"

Laura is Right

I copped out on that 5 people thing. The real list?

Laura
JessicaTeresaLisa
Peter

In that order, approximately (notice the tie for 2nd).

Second tier friends?

It doesn't mean I don't miss you, just that Laura wanted to put you in your place ;)

I Feel Like One, Too

I am dressed like a total douche today.

Really. What was I thinking? Unflattering shirt? Poorly tailored pants from high school? Winter shoes?

GAH!

"PAX: Public Access Christ!"

I just needed a placeholder for these, because I haven't had time to update about my awesome weekend.

I went out on Friday with Margaret, Lauren, Jessica and Laura. We went to the Big Sleazy, and danced, and I did my body weight in shots. We all did. The highlights of the evening (and, shit, there were a lot of them):

Dancing up on stage -- I would not get off that stage.

This guy bought a drink, and handed it to me. Laura was going to take it away from me, but before she had the opportunity, I pointed to it and told Laura, "There are ROOFIES in here."

When we left, Margaret and I were clearly...very drunk - to put it mildly. These guys tried to take us home, and Laura said, "No, I think they're good." When we rejected them, they said we were "lesbians." That's when I flipped out. I turned around and screamed, "I know guys who are WAY hotter than you who DON'T think I'm a lesbian! I don't need this!"

I asked Laura for a pen so I could get the bartender's phone number (he was wearing a Ramones T-shirt!!!), but all she had was lip gloss. She was busy doing damage control over on Margaret's end, so I ran off. I came back with a napkin with about four streaks of lip gloss on it. Laura thinks I got to the bar, found a napkin, and then forgot what I was doing. I think I probably got his number. We'll never really know :)

He's not the only guy who got away that night. Apparently, I wanted to give my digits to this guy we saw on the cab ride home. Pizza crust boy, we called him.

I'm sure there was more, but I don't know what it was. Honestly, most of these stories are third person. I remember dancing up on stage, and I do remember wanting to dance with some girls (and also trying to convince this other girl to come up and dance with us, but that had less skanky vibes). Laura had to fill me in the next day, and believe me -- there are at least two more stories I don't need out on the Internet. This is kind of like the weekend I "celebrated" losing my job. Where the stories all came out one by one, as I mentioned things I kept mentioning while inebriated.

Maybe there's more where that came from, maybe not. I mean, it's all a matter of whether or not I have time. But my friends and I? We're funny when we've had a few. I will definitely tell y'all about Alisa at the wedding some time - coz that was funny (and I was sober).

Vote for Benji! DO IT!!!

Lesley Married Mr. Lesley Today!

Highly Addictive Game

Click and hold the pixie to start, Try to avoid the moving bars without touching the walls. See how long can you survive... CAUTION: HIGHLY ADDICTIVE

five

5 Things always in my purse:
cell phone
keys
wallet
condoms...erm, I mean gum
ipod

5 Things always in my wallet:
driver's licence
credit cards
subway pass
woolcott & co. discount card
movie stubs

5 Things always in my refrigerator:
milk
polaroid film
beer
nailpolish
eggs

5 Things always in my closet:
blazers
skirts
button-up shirts
shoes
dresses

5 Things always in my car:
I take the subway

5 Things always on my desk:
my laptop
a framed photo or two
some tchotchke or another
post-it notes
mouse pad

5 people I wish I still hung out with:
high school folk
charlie
team awesome
jen from Austin Arch.
some architecture folk

5 pieces of clothing I can't live without:
tank tops from the Gap
Skirts!
tshirts for underneath sweaters/blazers
blazers/sweaters
my 3/4 sleeve dress

5 sentimental things I'll never throw away:
nearly anything my grandma gave me
photos from high school
anything in "the box" or "the box II: the sequel"
movie stubs from half of my relationships (the other half were ceremonially tossed or lit on fire)
three of the CDs in my collection: both Savage Garden CDs, and Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia (Dandy Warhols).

5 phone numbers I have memorized:
my parent's house
mom's cell
dad's cell
the o'brien's home number
ben's cell

5 songs I'll love forever:
Alison Krauss - Baby, Now That I've Found You
Bloodhound Gang - Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo (tee hee)
The Beach Boys - Kokomo
Motion City Soundtrack - Lgfuad
How Do You Tell Someone - Cowboy Mouth

5 places I have fond memories of:
Cambridge Common (the common, not the bar)
Harvard Yard
The Charles River
Boston Common
Album Park

5 terrible things I've done:
Made people feel badly about themselves
Gotten so angry that I actually felt hatred seeping through me
Pined for boys
Begged for [no name] to come back
Gotten so drunk that I blacked out within the span of one movie

5 scents that bring back the memories:
Old Spice Deodorant (...this was already there, but I believe it's apt)
the scent of my pillows from Pier One.
the air in the autumn
my lucky brand perfume
my rose kimono body spray

5 things I have hanging on the wall:
Paris/Eiffel Tower posters (yep,plural)
Pictures of "pink things" (martini glasses, valentine's box, and some macro shots of all things pink)
My dogs print
The NYTimes+red apple framed photo
Celtic cross

5 things I'll never regret:
Leaving home
most of my DVD purchases
those really expensive shoes (which ones?)
Speaking my mind to college boyfriend's mom in what would be my last hurrah in that relationship

5 knitting projects on the needles:
PofA Scarf (Gryffindor style)
Feather and fan stole
Dutch scarf
Scarf for my dad
frostflowers shawl (soon to be frogged, I believe)

Always a scarf behind

The Prisoner of Azkaban scarf is growing at an alarming rate. This isn't atypical when you start an endless garter stitch project, because you can still observe growth. Once it's four feet long, five feet long...nearly six feet long...it starts to look like it's not growing at all. Hopefully I can complete this scarf before I reach my breaking point. Before the scarf starts to look like it's never going to grow. I'm not quite that bored with this scarf yet. It's growing, it's kind of fun, the yarn is nice. I'm not about to poke my eyes out. But I do have to admit something. While I sit here, slaving away to complete this scarf, I dream of the other scarf. The Goblet of Fire scarf. You know the one. The one that practically broke my spine when I tried to twist every which way to see it in the movie (it was tough, there were only a few scenes with the scarf). I found an image (the one on the right) on the WB website. This is their cheapy version (No matter how much I tried to be jealous of the store bought scarves when we went to see Goblet of Fire, I was very proud of my handiwork on the old scarf. I think the hand knit ones always look more real than the store bought kind, which makes a special sort of sense, right?). Coupled with the lone still on the webernet, and the DVD, I think I can reproduce this scarf. The pattern may even be on atypically.knit someday. But until then, or until I can come up with my own pattern, I have to finish the PofA scarf, anyway. And while she's doing miles upon miles of garter stitch, a girl can dream, can't she?

Negative Feedback

How dare I demand common decency from people. I mean, really. What was I thinking?

Was I thinking that I paid $90 for someone to ship me 3 DVDs Priority mail before July 26th? And was I thinking that when August 1st rolled around, asking questions shouldn't have prompted a cancellation of the transaction with a refund (getting a refund is the sucks if you haven't asked for one)?

Maybe. Maybe I was thinking all that. Maybe I was just wondering if my DVDs were on the way because I was excited, and a little frustrated because I'd paid so much when I'd expected to pay around $28 for one DVD

The seller has agreed to the following:
Order to Ship By: 07/26/06
Shipping Method: Media Mail
Estimated Date of Arrival: 08/01/06 to 08/11/06
Orders shipped via Media Mail typically take between 4 to 8 days to arrive. In some instances, Media Mail shipments will take as long as 12 days to arrive.

Then? This morning I woke up to a response of "If you give me negative feedback, I'll leave you negative feedback."

I was like....what? OF COURSE YOU WOULD, YOU RETARD. What motivation would you possibly have to leave me positive feedback after this? Surely, my reaction to your being a COMPLETE WASTE OF OXYGEN would warrant a negative experience on your part. Really? Negative experience? I thought I was being really sweet to you. Oh, no, Wait. That was someone you didn't completely fuck over recently.

And yeah, I aggravated the situation by sending two emails this morning to that effect (although I thought the one where I didn't write "DUH" was actually kind of diplomatic:

I just don't understand where the problem occurred. See, you didn't ship them within the alloted time frame, you didn't tell me what was going on, you were rude, and then you refunded my money without telling me all of this when all I did was ask you, with only a modicum of politeness maybe, where my DVDs were (because maybe I was frustrated with the length of time it was taking them to get here).

You are a horrible human being.

Hey -- I plan on leaving negative feedback. And if he is, too, I want to deserve it. But really. I was doing okay before the "horrible human being" part, right?

Ugh. I hope he steps off a curb and gets hit by a semi-truck today.

That would be a Table-top system.

Peter: if i did start a business would you come work for me?
Peter: cause having someone who actually knows architecture would help the system a lot; adding a sense of realism to it
Peter: plus i'd be your boss!
Briar: could i do it on a contract basis?
Peter: sure, you could make some extra money in your spare time
Briar: would we have a mini-fridge?
Peter: no
Peter: it would be full size
Briar: SWEET
----------
And also, just because: here is Mel Gibson's formal apology to the Jewish community. I talked to a few of you about this incident (with horror), and so I thought this was the best place to put this (found at PR. Differently).

August 2, 2006 -- There is no excuse, nor should there be any tolerance, for anyone who thinks or expresses any kind of Anti-Semitic remark. I want to apologize specifically to everyone in the Jewish community for the vitriolic and harmful words that I said to a law enforcement officer the night I was arrested on a DUI charge.

I am a public person, and when I say something, either articulated and thought out, or blurted out in a moment of insanity, my words carry weight in the public arena. As a result, I must assume personal responsibility for my words and apologize directly to those who have been hurt and offended by those words.

The tenets of what I profess to believe necessitate that I exercise charity and tolerance as a way of life. Every human being is God’s child, and if I wish to honor my God I have to honor his children. But please know from my heart that I am not an anti-Semite. I am not a bigot. Hatred of any kind goes against my faith.

I’m not just asking for forgiveness. I would like to take it one step further, and meet with leaders in the Jewish community, with whom I can have a one on one discussion to discern the appropriate path for healing.

I have begun an ongoing program of recovery and what I am now realizing is that I cannot do it alone. I am in the process of understanding where those vicious words came from during that drunken display, and I am asking the Jewish community, whom I have personally offended, to help me on my journey through recovery. Again, I am reaching out to the Jewish community for its help. I know there will be many in that community who will want nothing to do with me, and that would be understandable. But I pray that that door is not forever closed.

This is not about a film. Nor is it about artistic license. This is about real life and recognizing the consequences hurtful words can have. It’s about existing in harmony in a world that seems to have gone mad.

I Don't Undrstand!!!

On July 23rd, I decided to buy three seasons of Futurama on DVD. I already have the first season, and I was just looking to buy Season 2, but I found a seller on half.com that would upgrade my order to free priority shipping if I bought three items from him.

So I spent $90 that I really don't have on DVDs that I really don't need, and I figured it was justified because wah, &tc.

Anyway, I've been expecting them for the past few days. And by expecting them, I mean Expecting Them. Sure, it's only been eight days, but the things were marked as shipped on the 24th or 25th, you know? Even if he took his sweet time shipping them, and lied, they should have been shipped last week, right?

So, I'm getting impatient, but I figured I'd contact him and see what the bloody deal was. I sent this correspondence:

I thought I got fee priority shipping for buying three items from you, but it seems to be taking a long time for this shipment to arrive. I only bought all three at once from you in the hopes that they would arrive quickly, since I didn't save very much money by doing this.

Did you by chance get delivery confirmation so I can track these items? Or do you know when they might get here?

I know, I know...that was actually kind of rude of me, right? It was in my tone? God, I can be such a bitch online sometimes. And really, even if it had been over the phone, I might have used the same tone. Sometimes, I'm really really sweet, but I end up feeling submissive and sometimes being sweet gets nothing done. I'm honestly about par with the whole being sweet/getting things done and being a bitch/getting things done, so really, what's the difference?

Well, this morning, instead of a response, I got an email from Half.com saying that my entire purchase has been refunded! Now, I know a person who sells loads of things on amazon.com, and he will refund an entire purchase rather than deal with a customer, but this guy has a computer bot that does all the work for him, and he's not actually shipping everything He sells things in the order of hundreds per week. The guy I bought these DVDs from does not have quite that sophisticated a setup, or he's very bad at it...because his amount of feedback doesn't correspond with someone who sells loads of stuff through bots. I just don't see it being easy to part with $90 for most people.

Did I miss something, though? Was I rude enough to warrant a cancellation of the whole transaction?

Why the fuck hasn't he shipped them yet? If he's willing to issue a full refund, then he can't possibly have sent them.

I just wanted a response. Even if it was as rude and snippy as mine. But instead, I got a refund, no response added.

Thanks, dude.

Now what am I supposed to do? Does this mean I don't get the DVDs after all? Becuause that's not how you avoid negative feedback you idiot. Plus, now I have to think about getting them again, blowing another $90 I don't have because now I feel like I already owned them...and just - GAH!
I wanted them while I was still free the whole live long day for chrissake!

Credit Scores and Sephora Gift Cards

After a finance charge fiasco this month, followed by an irritating phone call to Chase I found out that there are so many things that can affect your credit score by going to this webpage:
http://www.privacyrights.org/fs/fs6c-CreditScores.htm

The problem being, first and foremost, that I had to go to this website, because she didn't answer my questions, just tried to tell me to sign up for a plan that would send my score with each monthly statement. I mean, all I asked the woman on the other end of the line was what this might do to my credit score, and could I get a copy of my credit report? It turns out, requesting a copy of your score can lower it! ???!

I spent all morning trying to cancel my payment protector plan (they conned me into using them for four more months since I get to use the service free because of my recent move, but I'm cancelling as soon as this particular statement is paid off), and then I had to contest the finance charge. Chase-lady told me I could avoid "problems like this in the future" if I signed up for all sorts of things I was not interested in. I was severely offended by the way she said problems, but like a lot of things in my life these days I might have been projecting. That didn't stop me from being rude (granted, this was after 12 minutes of not being rude, which were what led to my having to be rude) when I forcibly hung up on her, basically telling her, "look lady, I'm not interested okay? Thank you for your time. Goodbye" *click*

The money-related phone call debacle of '06 ended on a very positive note, though.

I called Sephora to report my stolen gift card. The one that was in my wallet when I lost it so many months ago? Well, the card hasn't been used, which is both a relief and a bummer since it means my wallet may have been tossed in the garbage or something. Anyway, using the partial number off of an old reciept from New York (dated 25 February 2005! HA! Pay dirt! I knew being an excessive packrat would benefit me one day!), they cancelled the old card and issued me a new one with a little bit more money!

I love Sephora.

You Teach By Example

All of our windows are open these days, allowing for a cool breeze to waft through the apartment, along with various unseemly noises, apparently.

This morning, one of the landlady's adult grandchildren was visiting (the landlady is 96). The woman had brought her child to say hello to great-grandma, and grandma had given the child some money.

The mother kept telling her child to "say thank you," which is commendable. You should teach your children to say "thank you." The lesson went horribly astray when mom started teaching the child to be a screaming harpie bitch. In increasingly more annoyed tones, she was telling the child to "Say thank you. Stand up and say thank you. I'll wait. Say thank you. Stand up and say thank you. Say thank you, or [grandma] isn't going to like you. Say thank you. STAND UP AND SAY THANK YOU. That's it [grandma] doesn't like you anymore. Aren't you going to say thank you?"

Grandma doesn't like you anymore?! WTF? I was so frustrated with the situation that I wanted to run downstairs and say, "Thank you," for the kid. Clearly she's used to her mother's brain defect since it didn't seem to bother her.

I reatreated into the back of the house, vowing to try not to be like that with my children, and I didn't know whether to be sad for the little girl, or start laughing at the whole family.

Anglophilia

Sometimes, I get this crazy idea in my head that British guys are just inherently more hot than American guys. This simply isn't true. I've been to England. They're not all hot.

But the hot ones? MAN ALIVE. The hot ones are super hot. I think it's the accent.

I remember this boy, Tom, who was working with me at SOM. He was beautiful. He was British, naturally, and I think that added something to it, but he was beautiful all on his own -- with or without the accent.

He kind of looked like Syd Barrett in this photo here. Only, you know, this was taken in 1976, so at the time in 2005, Tom was much hotter than Syd Barrett.

I've Always Had Excellent Timing. Except When I Didn't.

"It's a good thing I got this job when I did. This next week is my last week of Unemployment benefits."
"Wow. That's working the system to its fullest. Congrats."

[Currently Spinning: The Divine Comedy - My Lovely Horse]

A Tremendous Fear of Stamps

Ardal O'Hanlon is a pretty funny guy, but my favorite is his role as Dougal on Father Ted. BBC America is full of lies, though. I've never seen Father Ted on their 11 o'clock block, and soon my days of staying up past 11:00 will be over, anyway.

I guess I can always buy the dvd set.

Lucky Little Girl!

Squee! This is probably the most adorable thing I've ever seen on YouTube. I'll bet Benji's a really good teacher (*wink*, squee!, *sigh*, *melts*)

Speaking of Benji and his cuteness, August 12th is when tickets go on sale for the SYTYCD tour. The tour passes through B-town on the 7th of October at the Wang theatre. Jen has already promised to go with me, and if you're around, you should go too-oo. It's going to be so awesome. I don't know what to wear, though. Maybe my "Please Marry Me Benji" sandwich board.

October 7th should give me enough time to lose the weight that I put on when I was unemployed, since I joined the Boston Sports Club today. I'm very excited about this. Aside from being two blocks away from the office where my NEW JOB will be, it offers yoga classes after work hours! The steam room in the locker room doesn't hurt at all, either.

Did I Ever Have the Self Respect to Say, "It's Over" Before? So Why Didn't You Believe Me?

I finally cut college boyfriend out of my life. I know that I've already told a few of my friends, and I don't know whether or not they believed me, because I didn't believe me at first. When I talked to my mother about it, I was calm and rational, so she believed me, but we also used words like "for now," and "until a better time."

I don't think I need him any more, even though I thought I did for a while. He was a good friend sometimes, but more often than not, he was selfish and just plain mean. I know he didn't mean to be, because he's a "nice guy,"* and all, but he was pretty much the worst specimen of ex-boyfriend I've ever had to deal with (*nice guy, not only in the way that most guys can be described as a "nice guy," but also in the way that means that he's afraid of conflict and will be an accidental asshole rather than have the balls to do the right thing if it means being "mean" in the conventional sense).

I've had ex-boyfriends tell me that the only reason I was at MIT was because of affirmative action (when I knew their SAT scores and class rank weren't as good as mine). I had a boyfriend use the last leg of our relationship as a means to hit on one of my friends. I had another boyfriend who borrowed money from me on a consistent basis.

None of them were remotely as bad for me as college boyfriend; none of them hurt me nearly as much as he did.

And he had the audacity to parade around pretending to be my friend, sending me music and calling me when he was bored. He doesn't have time for a relationship right now, but if he did, he wouldn't call me to talk about useless crap like cars and music and how work is going. He wouldn't even think about me.

And despite knowing all of this in the back of my heart, I took his calls, like the lonely, scared little girl I was [because of him]. I reached out for the scraps of friendship he was tossing in my direction. And I was grateful! How pathetic! I didn't want him back. I don't ever want him back, but still, I thought I could "rise above it." I thought I could be "bigger than this." I thought that I was cool.

It turns out, dumping his ass made me feel so much better than hanging on to his pathetic excuse for a friendship. Publicly calling him names on this blog got rid of him! (yes, it was deleted right after he saw it, and if I remember correctly, no one who reads this regularly saw it before he did) I know it was kind of mean (but not really, because the way out last conversation went, he probably did think that he was the guy I was talking about), and even though I was pissed beyond belief at him, it wasn't out of anger that I called him out, but out of genuine desire for him to finally comprehend that NO, I DON'T WANT TO BE WITH YOU. EVER. EVER AGAIN. JESUS CHRIST, DO I HAVE TO TATTOO IT ON MY FOREHEAD? DO I HAVE TO WRITE IT IN BLOOD? I DON'T FUCKING WANT TO BE WITH YOU. EVER AGAIN. Seriously.

The funniest part of all of this is that if he had been a man about dumping me, maybe in some alternate universe we could have been friends, even though I know it was the worst possible thing in the world for me.

So thank you, college boyfriend. I guess. It took a whole year, but the idiotic "friendship" spell I had over myself was finally broken.

*And I only write this because I'm so happy about it I want to scream it off the rooftops. I know there's still anger and resentment, deep down, and it will probably always be there, but I'm finally in a better place about the whole thing. A less bitter place. And I only waited a few weeks to talk about it because I wanted to make sure I really felt this way.

I might even be done before the next movie...

A Trip to the Orthodontist

I was sitting in the orthodontist's chair this morning, when across the way, I overheard another orthodontist telling her ten-year-old patient, "No, of course it won't hurt! Nothing I do to you will hurt."

I started laughing, and Dr. W said that we should go over there and set the girl straight.

Later in the appointment, she came over to watch me get impressions done because her brother had told her that the alginate was "disgusting" and that you "couldn't breathe." The poor girl was terrified. I wanted to smack her brother upside the head, because you know he's a few years older than her, and he only said it to show off, and maybe scare her a bit. Nothing that happens in the orthodontist's chair is pleasant, but there's no reason to scare little kids -- and if she's scared of taking impressions...She's in for a real treat when she gets those bands on.

Her fears were slightly assuaged by the end of her visit, when she was told that she could pick any color in the world for her rubber bands. I guess that means she won't get the super cool braces I have, because I don't need rubber bands.

I Told You I Liked the Hat

So I made one of my own.

Last night, I decided I wanted a Gryffindor scarf. A la Goblet of Fire. This time, I'm looking to make it using Plymouth Encore yarn instead of good old bargain bin Red Heart yarn. This is for two reasons. One is that since I made my last Potter scarf, I've stopped using bargain bin acrylic. Once the whole scarf was finished, it did feel nice, but it can't be blocked, and I'm pretty sure that over time it won't wear as well as it could. Now, I don't know this. Only time will tell, and the scarf is no longer in my posession (I guess that's reason number one and a half).

Reason the second is that the colors on the Azkaban/Goblet scarf are actually a little daker and a little deeper than the earlier scarves. It seems a little bit more sophisticated, and I want it to look accurate. Thus, even if I wanted them to, Red Heart colors just won't cut it -- not if accuracy is an issue.

However, the reason that I've had a browser open with all the yarn (plus Addi Turbos with which to knit this baby) in my cart all night long, was because I wanted to wake up, see the price one last time, and say "Okay. It's worth it," or "What?! Are you crazy?!" Because the other scarf was about the price you'd pay for a scarf at a store, even using discounted yarn, and this scarf...well...jeez.

The solution? I'm heading down to Windsor Button later today. If they have the yarn I need, I'll take it as a sign that it was meant to be. If they don't have it, I'll hem and haw here for a while, and probably end up with a box of yarn and supplies on its way to my doorstep before I go to sleep tonight.

Lord, can you hear me now?

I saw Damien Rice and Fiona Apple at Mohegan Sun last night. It was...Okay. Damien plays for himself, and that's fine, but he's not a performer. That's okay, because I am madly in love with him and would have his babies if he let me, so I couldn't care less how he performed. He played Cold Water and Blower's Daughter, but not Cannonball, and he also threw in a few songs that I didn't recognize, making me think that his whole life is kind of a B-side. There was a funny lyric about how the girl he's singing to should "leave him for me, before one of us has accidental babies" Matt's friend, Klaire and I laughed about the odds of Damien Rice carrying an accidental baby, because that always happens to men I know. Evidently, "my" copy of O is so old that I'm missing an entire song! I hate it when that happens. That's what I get for discovering him too early, before the re-release of O with Unplayed Piano.

I couldn't track down a set list, but I posted some video on YouTube. Forgive the quality (we had nosebleed seats), and the fact that the songs are cut off (my camera is a p.o.s. that won't take video for longer than 2 and a half minutes):

Cold Water


Blower's Daughter


Fiona was...Well, she was having a mild meltdown. So evidently, this still happens from time to time (and I'm really not surprised, given her past), and in the middle of the show, she apologized for "being an asshole." It was one of those days and she was sorry that it was our day. She's still phenomenal, and I still love her, but in general the whole thing was kind of "meh." At one point during her performance, I stopped enjoying it and started feeling so sad for her, like I shouldn't be watching this sort of raw emotion. Like maybe something was really wrong with her, and we should just leave her be. Someone on the Internets pointed out that a lot of people go to concerts like this because the artists are able to convey emotions that the audience is unable to express in their every day lives. How exhausting it must be to be Fiona Apple all the time. Or Damien Rice. Music by both of them has helped me through breakups, because their music is about all that pain and sadness...And everything I am unable to convey on my own.

Also, I got some pretty good news today, but I want to wait until some details are sorted out before I share it.

And I don't think you've been visiting lately, but if you see this, BEN: SEND ME THE GD SNOW PATROL TICKETS YOU MEALY MOUTHED CROTCH PHEASANT! Just kidding. About everything except sending me the tickets.

One Hundred Things You Should Have Done in Bed

1. What made you smile today?
Today, I smiled when I managed to figure out how to get myself to a Fiona Apple/Damien Rice concert after my ride flaked out. I smiled when I found a place to hang my Celtic cross. I smiled when I realized that the centipede is gone for good now, at least.

2. What were you doing this morning at 8a.m.?
Asleeping

3.What were you doing 15 minutes ago?
purchasing train tickets to Westerly, RI.

4. Something that happened to you in 1986?
That's the year my album went platinum.

5. Your prom nights?
Prom was just an excuse to put on a prom dress. The real fun was in planning Prom. A Night on the Orient Express! Truth be told, I only remember one prom. I didn't plan it, and it was a pretty awful experience.

The first prom I went to was pretty forgettable -- Sadly. Patrick had just gotten back from Dallas and barely had time to get a tux, and I had an 11:00 curfew. I don't even remember if we had time for dinner, since his flight literally put him in El Paso the afternoon of prom.

6. Last thing you said aloud?
"HA!"

7. Last thing someone else said aloud?
"Guess who I'm imitating"

8. Worst thing currently on television:
There's a lot of crap on the Television these days. Most of it crap that I watch routinely. So I couldn't say.

9. What was in the mail today?
Too early for mail.

10. How many different beverages have you drank today?
just coffee

11. What is your favorite part of the day?
I don't have a favorite

13. Current to do list ?
1. Find a job.
2. Organize sock drawer

14. What color is your toothbrush?
Purple

15. What is out your back door?
A dinosaur victrola listning to buck owens.

16. Any plans for Friday night?
Not currently

17. Least favorite place to shop?
What? I love to shop!

18. Last thing you bought?
train tickets to RI

19. Last gift you received?
Uh, Snow Patrol tickets -- If I ever GET THEM.

20. Funniest thing you heard all day?
My mom and Awbrey have a running joke about her teeth that I'm in on. We laughed about that for a while.

21. Favorite mug?
"Fuck off, I'm Knitting"

22. What color is your front door?
I have no idea. Brown, probably. I want a red one. Or a bright blue one.

Spill Your Guts:

1. First thing you did this morning?
Checked my voicemail

2.) Last thing you ate?
Pops with Peanut Butter Puffin cereal. I like mixin' cereals.

3. Is your cell phone a piece of crap?
Nope, it's pretty new.

4. What's something you look forward to most in the next 6 weeks?
Snow Patrol! Also, Lesley and Mr. Lesley's wedding.

5. What's annoying you right now?
Nothing

No way....

Q: Is there a person who is on your mind right now?
There are a few people

Q: Who is the last person you called?
Matt

Q: Do you look like your mom or dad?
Both

Q: Do you smile often?
I think so. Maybe not, these days.

Q: Do you think that someone is thinking about you right now?
Maybe

Q: Do you wish on stars?
Yes

Q: What is the most disgusting thing you ever ate?
Menudo, chorizo.

Q: Would you kill someone?
I don't know if I could. It would be a pretty unique circumstance if I were in the situation to potentially kill someone, and I don't think I'd have the backbone.

Q: When did you last cry?
I don't remember. Recently.

Q: Are you friendly?
I'm shy, but I'm not unfriendly.

Q: Are you keeping a secret from the world?
I don't really keep secrets, but I'm sure there are things I keep to myself.

Q: Whose bed did you sleep in last night?
Mine.

Apparently They're Considered Lucky in Japan

briar: oh god oh god oh god

Auto response from Peter: lunch

briar: there's a centipede in my room
briar: i do not like this
briar: i don't like it at all
briar: it's on my wall!
briar: what do i do?
briar: i need a boyfriend
briar: or my dad
briar: ack!
briar: it's moving!
briar: spraying it with windex and 409 didn't help
briar: peter i can't deal with this!
briar: I'm supposed to vacuum it up
briar: i can't
briar: i can't deal with this
briar: oh my god, it's moving again
briar: oh no
briar: oh oh
briar: it's in the ceiling
briar: okay it's "gone"
briar: but my floor is such a mess
briar: and they like dark damp places, and usually stick to baseboards, so I'll never really know
briar: eeeee this is so gross!
briar: i can't sleep
briar: because I know that's when it will fall on my face
briar: OH GOD IT'S COMING BACK OUT

And that's how the centipede ATE ME last night. Okay, fine. Nothing ate me. Mostly this sort of "dialogue" went on for a while longer while the centipede hung out on my wall (Peter came back just after the all-caps scream fest, but I was still doing most of the talking), and he finally convinced me to whack at it with a broom.

I scared it away, and finally got to sleep after 2:30 (let's put things in perspective a little by mentioning that I had gotten tired enough for bed at 11:30 last night). Using a broom, only when I was convinced that it wouldn't fall on me, or the floor, was the only way I could have been brave enough to do it. Lame? Maybe. Would I have called my boyfriend over at 11:32 when I first saw the thing? Uh. Yes.

I know, I know. That'll make 'em line up.

The tears come streaming down your face when you lose something you can't replace

Sometimes I feel like I have a really good entry started in my head, and when I sit down to type, I can get a good first sentence out, maybe, then...Nothing.

I cleaned out a lot of drafts the other day - half formed thoughts that were never published, things about people I know that shouldn't be on the Internet, stories that should be told by someone who can tell a story. In other words, things that would be clever if they weren't written by me.

Sometimes it's just because I have nothing clever to say. Other times I have very clever things to say, but no clever way to say them. And then, sometimes, maybe there are things in the back of my mind that I should write about -- but I don't want to write about.

Like the unemployment thing. Maybe it would help if people knew how I feel right now. How I feel like it's a dirty word: "Unemployed." And how I feel dirty because of it. Or how clever synonyms like "in between jobs" no longer sound more clever. Instead, after a few months, they sound just as repulsive to me. Lately I feel like it's a label that I'm wearing on my lapel for everyone to see. Hello, my name is Unemployed. As though people in the supermarket on a Wednesday afternoon know.

I met someone at a party a few weeks ago, and after what I thought was a stimulating conversation about the hassle of finding a new apartment, we started talking about what we "do." He was talking about how he just starting his residency at a local hospital, and I became incredibly embarrassed and started talking really stupidly about how I'm "in-between jobs" (and I'm pretty sure I used air quotes and rolled my eyes. I don't remember if I explained how that was just the fancy way of saying "I collect unemployment checks" and then laughed nervously, but that's where it was headed). I was even more embarrassed when he excused himself to the other room, and at the time, I reasoned that it was the stink of "the unemployed" that drove him away, instead of my manic, nervous reaction to the question "what do you do?" Instead of rationalizing that he wasn't interested in speaking to me anymore because I was significantly younger than he was, or because of my attitude (and maybe my drunkenness), I reasoned that it was because I was an "untouchable."

I know I have such an unhealthy attitude about my situation right now, and I know it's not helping anything to be pessimistic and downtrodden, but what can I do about that? Will I feel better when I get a job? Am I doing permanent damage to my psyche? Even going to church makes me feel nervous, and why? Shutting myself up in my apartment certainly isn't going to help, so why do I do it?

I just don't know anymore. And I feel like such an uninteresting person these days.

And I don't know what to do about it, anymore.

[Currently Spinning: Coldplay - Fix You]

Tired of taking shit that I don't deserve

She said let's go
I said hell no, I don't wanna be friends
She said kiss me
I said miss me, I don't wanna be friends
She said love me
I said shove me, I don't wanna be friends
She sat near me
Can't you hear me, I don't wanna be friends
She said trust me
Why so you can bust me? I don't wanna be friends
I think I'm gonna do what I damn well please
Cause I don't wanna be friends

Maybe there will come a day when you decide to walk away but I don't think so now

She said beg me
Why so you can peg me? I don't wanna be friends
I'm tired of taking shit that I don't deserve, Cause I don't wanna be friends

She said hurt me
I said squirt me, I don't wanna be friends
Can't you get it through your big thick skull
That I don't wanna be friends?

Maybe there will come a time when I could probably change my mind but I don't think so now

She said need me
I said leave me, I don't wanna be friends
She said love me
I said shove me, I don't wanna be friends
She said let's go
I said hell no, I don't wanna be friends

She said hold me
I said blow me
I don't wanna be
There's no need for me
I don't wanna be friends

-Cowboy Mouth, Friends

Guys? The Chicken is Pissed.

I've waited here my whole damn lifeAnd I've forgotten what I wanted

I found my high school journal while I was unpacking, so I started reading through it (as I do whenever I come across it, which is exactly what I do with the box, whenever I come across it -- although I try to limit time with the box because while it's funny to read my thoughts in my journal, being in the box is like being in the past, and no one should live in the past). Anyway, I found this passage:

I'm not saying I'm going to stay with him forever. My dad keeps telling me that "if it's going to happen, it'll happen. You can wait until you're out of college." If what is going to happen!?! I just want to go out with him a few more times before he leaves.

I started laughing out loud. "Hello? Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret. It's 'after college' now. Is this really what life is turning out to be?" I had to laugh, because it was either that, or cry (the ironic "happy" tears). Even at sixteen I really wasn't thinking that I'd be thinking about him again six years later, but for some reason, I really did think I'd be with him forever -- someday. It just made it easier to think in terms of "this Saturday," instead of "next year when he leaves for college." Thinking about him is still where I default whenever I'm not in a relationship, or when I'm trying to convince myself to leave my current relationship. Thinking about him makes me feel sixteen again. Full of hope. Full of girlish desire. Full of the bubbling, happy feeling that I'm brand new, and anything can happen, and that anything will happen.

Six years. Six years was a long time ago. I'm not so brand new anymore. I've been broken, and I've glued myself back together a few times. But I am wiser. And stronger. I'm not as foolish, and not nearly so naive, anymore. I also realize that he's probably the Kitty Shcherbatsky to my Levin¹; the Amelia Sedley to my Dobbin². He's my unattainable person, who probably isn't everything I imagine him to be anymore.

Sometimes I just want to wake up next to someone, and know that someone is there. Going through life with me.

But I also know I want it to be real, for once - or maybe for a second time in my life.
And I can hold out for that. I will hold out for that.

I know it's going to be a while before I stop needing to be in a relationship. I'm a relationship-aholic. I can't live without relationship-ahol. (Sorry, I couldn't resist). I'm starting to embrace the single wagon, though. Slowly. And if, from time to time, I still need to envision a world where I will one day run into him on the street, and we'll be able to pick up where we left off when I was sixteen? What's so wrong with that right now? I think I'll know that I found the guy when I can stop thinking about him once and for all. I was pretty close once, and I have nothing but grattitude towards him for that -- even though It didn't work out as well as I wanted it to. At least I learned from him that despite how sad and broken I have been, someone else who is suited for me is probably out there.

Anyway, I went out to buy new curtains earlier today, and was thankfully inside before the raging beast of a storm:

But, sadly, when I carelessly walked out of my room with some mail in my hands, I broke the spoon to my chicken sugar bowl:

These days, I really can't win 'em all.

¹Anna Karenina
²Vanity Fair

[Currently Spinning: Snow Patrol - Ways & Means]

2 Days, 2 Weird Dreams

I have had two weird dreams in the past two days; both dreams good in their own way.

I can't really share the one from two nights ago (yes it was dirty ;) but last night, I dreamed that I was going to the ballet with the orchestra. It was a weird combination of me now and me then, because I was clearly trying to get to the ballet from work, but everyone from high school was there. I was dressed up, but I hadn't been able to find a date -- or so I thought. When I got there, Patrick was also there, and we sat next to each other and just settled into being completely comfortable with each other, holding hands, putting our arms over each other's shoulders, and he kept kissing my temple.

We ended up getting cheated out of the ballet (the performance was about thirty seconds long, then they were showing old clips of old debutante dances on a TV mounted up in the corner. We decided it was completely lame, and left the room. It turns out, we were supposed to be in the high school (it just looked nothing like my high school), and so we went to search for Dusty's room so we could hang out somewhere. I was getting mixed signals from Patrick, and at some later point, when I went to the restroom, I came back to overhear him explaining to Sara how he was dating someone who was in Australia, and that he'd either have to break up with her before he went out there to visit her, or he'd probably stay with her because it cost so much to go out there and then not stay with the person.

I was kind of crushed, but also felt a competitive surge rise inside me, and I thought that if I could be completely charming that night, maybe he'd reconsider being with me again, but I kept saying really stupid things.

We talked about High-Q some, and a bunch of people I haven't seen in a while were there. Mike, Nicky and Daniel Bujanda were sitting in one corner, talking about how Mike took Patrick's place on the High-Q team (which isn't true -- no one really took Pat's place, or was that just in my heart? Joke). Dixie was in another corner, and she was really happy to see Patrick, but really cold to me. I didn't know what to think, but before I had time to analyze it, Patrick said we were leaving. So Sara, Peter, and I got to his car, and he was taking us home, but he kept driving backwards, and not really paying attention to the road (so not Patrick!) -- and searching for this one song to play for us, if it wasn't on the radio before midnight. We started listening to some matchbox 20 song, and I thought that was the song he wanted us to hear, but it wasn't. He was going to take us to his parent's house to listen to it, and I remembered his parent's house looking like what it looked like in one of my waaay old dreams (So weird!).

I woke up to that warm, fuzzy feeling when you see an old friend. But the thing is, the only place I'll ever see him is in my dreams.

Peter is living with him right now; his brother, one of my best friends from high school, who I talk to nearly every day -- and Patrick hasn't once talked to me, or even said hello through Peter. So I can only assume he's stopped caring, and probably never will again. I guess as long as I don't let it interfere with my relationship with Peter (uh...again)...I'll be okay, because honestly, it's not like I've tried that hard to contact him. And really, after three or four years...what am I even complaining about? Last time I talked to him on AIM (at 4 in the morning, Junior year at MIT), he implied that affirmitive action was the only reason I was there, and so it didn't end well.

Disney's Flash Forward

When I went to see X3, I had an unsettling feeling that I knew I'd seen the actor who played Angel before, but I just assumed that was because he was a non-descript pretty blonde boy. Besides, the boy he reminded me of wasn't nearly so skinny. Or tall. Or crazy-lookin'.

But today, I was looking for episodes of Disney's Flash Forward (after a Serenity/Firefly kick), and I realized that Tucker looked vaguely familiar...and that I'd seen him in something recently.

After a little bit of IMDB research I learned that Angel and Tucker are, in fact, the same person: Ben Foster.

Also, it led me to the conclusion that I watched way too much Flash Foward way back when (it's also how I knew Kaylee, even though I told Laura at the time that "Flash Forward must be what I remember her from, but I only watched, like...one or two episodes." It turns out, I've seen them all. Yeah. I know.)

Moving Briar and Alisa's Skank Asses: Part Duex

(Forgive the title - it's two inside jokes).

Teresa was a trooper yesterday. Even though she's on vacation here in Boston (well, Somerville), she helped Alisa and me schlepp our things to the new place (via UHaul).

We were able to rent a van for this trip (a van is much bigger and therefore somewhat more appropriate for moving than a Ford Taurus. But there was no CD Player, and we still made five pretty big trips -- as opposed to the nine we made last year in the bitty Taurus). There was a trip to Target where we actually got almost nothing that we were supposed to get (a fire extinguisher and dining room chairs, for instance), but I managed to acquire this gorgeous little mirror/shelf for my room, a waffle iron (!!! "Alisa! Now we can have waffles every....Six months!!!), and some new plastic tumblers (we kept breaking the glasses. So plastic it is!).

People on our new street are so nice, which is funny because it's a block away from our old house. No one offered to help us on our old street (save one story for the next paragraph), and everyone was offering to help on our new street.

The biggest problem we faced during this move was getting Alisa's box spring downstairs. Our stair entry has a low ceiling, and we've all bumped our heads (well, maybe not Jessica), or gotten stuck coming down the stairs (the doorway is also stupidly at the foot of the last stair, which is the only way it all fits inside, but is still inane), so we knew the only way to get the box spring out was to lower it from the front balcony, but we all had the same mental image of the box spring exploding into a million little wood splinters -- and some springs -- on the sidewalk below. Teresa decided it would be best to ask experts before we attempted this, so she asked the movers who were two doors down how we would go about getting the mattress and box spring into the van. Well, as it turns out, being three cute girls has its advantages. They didn't just tell us what to do -- they did it for us! It was too sweet, and they also offered to move one of our bigger boxes, too (which we didn't allow, but still -- so. sweet!). We were going to buy them beer, but they left before we had a chance. I hope they have enough good karma to last them a lifetime, though; and I guess that's better than beer...But still -- I wish we'd been able to get them something other than a "thank you!"

After one of our trips, we met our new Irish neighbor. He told us that he wanted to show us something...So we followed him to his place and went through his basement, and saw his pub. I'm talking...Bar, barstools, lots of alcohol, a HUGE widescreen TV (and a smaller TV behind that, ha!), and football? Rugby? memorabilia all over the walls. He was the sweetest man, and he gave us water and chatted with us for a bit. Apparently, once when he got pretty drunk, he offered to take his Korean tenants to Ireland. He paid their airfare, and hosted them with some friends of his. Then he called the local paper and they wrote a story (parts of it fabricated, but most of it true) about the hospitality in Korea and how this local Irishman wanted to extend the same hospitality to some girls he met there (those girls would be his tenants...So that's the part that's fabricated). He's introduced many couples, apparently -- so Teresa says we need to hang out with this guy, if not for the full bar, then for the trip to Ireland and future husband.

Seriously, guys. We moved one block down. Just beyond the "we keep to ourselves" border.

So, that's our new place, in a nutshell. My room is being decorationally-difficult, my knee really really really hurts :( and I'm a little sad we'll only be here for a year, but otherwise, I can't really complain.

And we were done moving by 9:00 PM this time. After taking breaks. And we only made 5 trips. And we weren't even packed before we left. And we still got to go to Target and IHOP. By far, it was a much better moving experience, except, sadly, there was no Jessica, and no "Moving Briar and Alisa's Skank Asses" mixed CD.

The Best Thing About This Movie: The Hat

Isn't it pretty? (And I mean the hat, by the way -- not Orlando Bloom, even though he is also gorgeous)

Matt, I admit I was a tad unfair to say that the movie was terrible. To be honest, when I wrote that, I was watching the scene with the memorial. I fast forwarded through Freebird, and while I enjoyed the music immensely, this isn't a movie I'm going to go out and buy after watching it once.

I'm going to go ahead and take it down a notch. I thought it was "okay." That's better than terrible, right?

This is What I'd Rather Do

You Know, Lulu from Gilmore Girls.

Is the girl in that annoying bellsouth commercial Rini Bell? I can't find any information about this on all the Internets, and I'm sure someone (*cough*Laura) can help me out, or speculate with me.

Passion Party

Hey, guys. Guess what I did last night...Go ahead, guess!

I went (with Teresa and also *gasp, shock, squee* - Alisa) to a Passion Party. If you don't know (I didn't), a Passion Party is like a tupperware party, but with toys instead of tupperware. Erm. You know. Toys. And massaging oils and spritzes and pheromone perfume and things like that. It wasn't weird or gross or icky or any of the other adjectives that Peter threw out there last night when I told him; it was actually a lot of fun.

We got to taste some things (on our left arm), and spritz some things (on our right arm) -- and it was nice to test some of the products (not the toys!), and nice to see some of the toys in action. It also removed some of the embarrassment from the whole thing (the wine probably helped with that, too).

The best part is that our friends who missed this party (namely Laura and Lauren) will be able to come to the one that Alisa and I host in a few weeks (August 4th at 8pm for anyone who's in town and interested).

We're going to need some more wine.

FIRE!

Today, this really vicious storm passed by. There was powerful thunder and bright lightning...One set was so loud that the house shook and some car alarms went off...Then about ten minutes later, Teresa and I heard Fire Trucks:



That's right...Lightning hit the house two doors down from us! There was a lot of smoke, and seven fire trucks (which my dad says is pretty standard for that sort of fire -- two ladders and five pumpers).

That was our view for a good hour, until we went into the house because we were bored. Yeah...What? I've seen a warehouse on fire. Granted, I was three, and the only time I see it is in my nightmares, but still.

And then we went to play trivia at the Asgard. We didn't win, but it was nice to hear "Team Awesome" be announced, even though I messed up when I knew that one answer was "ruby slippers" after we turned in "Luke Skywalker's Light Saber."

Yarn Conundrum

I have many items of knitterly news to report. Yarn news. Project news. And Questions.

First, I have...Well, the best one skein secret pal, ever. She puts me to shame (except I think the package I put together this month is pretty nice, too ;) I got this in the mail today:



Lorna's Laces (!!!), Regia sock yarn, and some stuff from her home: a postcard, a magnet not pictured because it's on my fridge already, and one of those really cool pencils that have the little plastic lead train inside them! Remember those?

Also, even though I've got a lot on my plate (that blasted second pomatomus, the feather and fan stole, and the frostflowers and leaves shawl that I'm probably going to start over -- again), I think I'm ready for my first sweater:

The Somewhat Cowl over at Knit and Tonic. Now here's the big question weighing on my mind: What yarn should I use? The pattern calls for Blue Sky Alpaca & Silk, from which there are many many colors to choose, and I wouldn't be opposed to working with it. The alternative that I'm thinking about, though, is Knitpicks Ambrosia. There are less colors, but instead of alpaca and silk, it's alpaca and cashmere. It's about the same price (the knitpicks might be a little cheaper, and shipping ends up being free because the order will be over $40, but I'm sure I can find some deals on the blue sky alpaca). I want something purple; I like shades like plum or wine (I'm really into the purple hues these days. And pink, but I have like twelve pink sweaters, already).

Has anyone worked with either one of these yarns? Or, if not, what do you think you would do? There isn't a big color selection over at knitpicks, which is unfortunate, but the cashmere appeals to me a little more than the silk (plus it'll be softer, with less sheen, I think). Thoughts? Opinions? Knitting friends and regular folk, both :) chime in as you see fit.

I'm out now, because there is some TV and a cup of tea waiting for me. And maybe a long walk -- or lots of knitting.

Everything's Going to Be Alright

I was in a really good mood today, like something had been lifted off my shoulders. I don't know what it was, and I couldn't put my finger on it, but while I was shopping, I just...felt so happy.

And then? And then, Ben called! I was in this little boutique and my phone rang, and I turned all red in the face and bolted out of the store, but then I got to talk to Ben for a while, and I saved my credit card, so it turned out pretty well in the end.

I think things are going to be okay, y'all.

My Predictions Were Way Off!

I have a quick confession to make, and that's that once Benji and Donyelle were safe, I didn't pay too much attention to the results show tonight. I kind of packed. And washed dishes.

But anyway, my predictions were wrong! In the bottom three tonight:
Heidi and Ryan (gasp!)
Ivan and Alison (gasp! gasp!)
Jessica and Jamyz (erm...well, no gasp there)

I'm SO HAPPY that Dmitry and Ashlee weren't in the bottom three! Yay! The surprised looks on their faces were fantastic (I'm sure they were only surprised because of Dmitry's reputation -- because like I said, I really liked their routine last night)

Jessica and Jamyz, according to the judges, both have good technique, but they have NO personality. They didn't think that about Jamyz as much as Jessica, but it was implied. So the blahs are gone! Let's see what happens next week! Squee!

[Currently Spinning: KT Tunstall - Suddenly I See]