Hometown: The Roch, MI (aka. The Crotch, aka. Crotchscratcher, aka. Crotchmolester, aka. Rochester)
Currently Living: Clawson, MI
Height: 5'8
Weight: Ha ha, yeah right
Favorite Color: Blue (preferably navy)
Profession: Researcher
Favorite Nickname: Trick, Sloan
Favorite Drinks:Vodka Tonic, Guinness, Diet Dr. Pepper, Dirty Martinis, red wine
Favorite TV Show: Friends, Sex & The City, Project Runway, The Amazing Race, Iron Chef America
Least Favorite TV Show: A Baby Story, I Love Lucy, Martha Stewart, Everybody Loves Raymond, every hour long drama
Favorite Books: The History of Love, Beloved, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Fight Club, A Prayer for Owen Meany, The of Being, SurUnbearable Lightness vivor, Empire Falls, The Corrections, The Bell Jar
Favorite Movies: Little Miss Sunshine, Anchorman, The 40 Year Old Virgin, Wordplay, American Beauty, Life is Beautiful, Amelie, Breakfast Club, Singin In The Rain, Sixteen Candles, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Sleeping Beauty, Dancer in the Dark, Duets, The Virgin Suicides, The Manchurian Candidate (1962), Austin Powers I, II & III, My Best Friends Wedding, Moulin Rouge, Tommy Boy, Billy Madison, The Shining, Gone With The Wind, Bridget Jones' Diary, Chicago, Love Actually
Guilty Pleasure Movies: Xanadu, Dirty Dancing, Overboard, Groundhog Day, Steel Magnolias, 10 Things I Hate About You, Bond movies, Footloose, Clue, Murder By Death, High Spirits, A Cinderella Story
What I Do Too Much: Check email, crossword puzzles, complain about my job to friends and family,
Obsessions: sushi, Indian food, ranch dressing, toenail polish, song lyrics, hands, awards shows, symmetry, avocados, maps, dreams, This American Life, the display in my car that tracks my MPG
Pet Peeves: loud eaters, slurping, gulping, arrogance, snoring, bad grammar, repetition, late mergers, ripping cardboard, the word "chunky", intolerance, couples in a restaurant sitting on the same side of a booth, pop-up ads, privacy manager, men that drive without shirts on, being foolish, unfairly jumping to conclusions, being made fun of, cat-calling, people who type too hard
Greatest Fear: crossing bridges
Relaxing Activites: late night drives to sing by myself, headstands, hot baths,
Wish I Was: Ansel Adams, Jenifer Aniston, in love, living alone
Prized Possessions: ring from my grandparents, flower pot of my Grandma's, electric blanket (temporarily broken), tongue scraper, my bed
Craziest Thing Ever Done: getting a tattoo, strip Jenga
Things I Eventually Want To Do: skydive, buy a guitar, learn how to play the aforementioned guitar, take flying lessons, travel to France, write a novel, learn how to play the harp, tap dancing lessons, run a marathon
Sunday, March 19, 2006 I felt for sure last night, that once we said goodbye, no one else will know these lonely dreams, no one else will know that part of me....There was the temptation on Friday to choose to either throw all responsibilities to the wind and spend an entire day in a green-and-Guinness-induced haze, or to be a together, responsible student and worker and just meet up "late afternoon to early evening" as I had originally planned. Well, it ended up being a careful balance of both, but perhaps a little more of the former. It was more like early afternoon to late evening. But still, fun abound, as well as some oddness.
Our carousing, multi-member group migrated from spot to spot complete with a stalker who apparently knew Suz (and could tell you where her cube was and what skirt she wore on Tuesday February 7th), green hats, and lots of Guinness. Later on in the night, when the boy and I were out together, we were at a little dive bar in Royal Oak. At one point, I ran to the ATM to grab some more cash (what kind of bar doesn't take credit cards these days? Oh yeah, the dive kind), and the boy was stationed to hold down our booth. I was gone somewhere in the area of 3-5 minutes and when I returned, there were 5 people seated at the table, the boy was taking photos of them, and there was laughing and merriment as though the group had been friends for eternity. I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less, huh?
It was an interesting crowd of folks, who definitely made the night a blast. But particularly odd was when the two girls we were chatting with moved the conversation to complimenting my uh...rack? They were rather overwhelmingly complimentary. Like kind of in a bit of an extreme way, to even telling the boy that he was a lucky man. It's interesting that if it was a pair of guys, I would have been pissed and horribly offended, but somehow, as two girls, it was just kind off odd. But overall, we had such a blast of an evening. I don't know how it's possible not to on St. Patty's day. Or with such a great group of friends to spend it with.
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Neglect of the blog: again, I apologize. But I've finally figured out that it's not so much the physical lack of time to sit down and write. Because I can sneak in 5 minutes here and there. But the lack of writing is because I think I've deadened every creative vein in my body. Whether or not you think so, writing even the most banal blatherings here requires some amount of creative flexing on my part. I like being able to spend time thinking about how to phrase a sentence that adequately emotes whatever it is I'm trying to say. But that's what I've been missing. Even though I've come across a constant barrage of things that touch me, or move me, or make me laugh, or make me go "Huh?", or make to say, "That's goin' in the blog," I do not have more than a minute more to reflect on any of these things.
I have no time to examine why I get so happy from a simple trip to the grocery store. I have no time to detail the exciting tension I get everytime the wind blows hard and shakes the trees and the foundation of our house. I have no time to ponder the odd malaise that keeps cropping up on me at moments when I should be inherently, monumentally happy. I don't have to time to put words to anything. I just let every thought fly in and out of my head while briefly acknowledging it's there for a moment, but letting it go and not figuring out why it was there, and more importantly, what it meant. I've been reduced to just absorbing feelings and emotions, letting them blanket over me, and then react however reflexively the emotion dictates. I have fully lost the ability to practically analyze any of my surroundings or how they impact me. I've become sort of a monkey going through my motions and sticking to the most automatic reactions to anything that presents itself to me.
Needless to say, I hate this version of myself.
She is not the soul of me. She is not the heart that I cherish. She is an imposter who is shutting down portions of my cortex. I relish every stupid little thing that brings any amount of joy or bliss or excitement to my life. To me, that's what it's all about ya'll.
If I once had the energy or the creativity, I would have greatly detailed the conquest of a certain candleholder now in my living room (and the unsuccessful coercion of a nephew of mine to get it for me), or how to not leave a candle unattended so that the price tag at the bottom catches on fire and sends flames leaping into the air, or my shoe shopping trip, (OH! The shoes! That would have been a week's worth of of heaven-sent writing in-and-of itself!), or the ongoing saga with my evil adversaries at the U.S. Postal Service who don't know how to read. See! See how wonderful and exciting and tantilizingly alluring all of these anecdotes sound?? I want them to permeate my life and be the overbearing focus. I want to bathe in simple pleasures and oddities and quirkiness and everything that is there for the taking, everyday of our lives. I want to peel them apart and figure them out while just letting it be just what it is. That's the me I remember, and like and want back.
But I don't think she's going to resurface for some time. I apologize for the next month or so in advance because any effort for blogging will be scant. Because sitting down at a computer, my initial reaction will be to complain. And fuck if I dont do that enough as it is. That's all I do. Here: let me write the following sentences, and if at any time in the next 6 weeks, you come by to read this and I haven't recently posted, just reread these sentences, and I GUARANTEE that they will be a phrase or complaint that has either recently come out of my mouth, or is currently going through my mind:
1. I hate my job. 2. My co-workers are effing crazy. 3. How am I ever going to get all this done? 4. What time of day is it? 5. Why can't anyone do anything on their own? 6. If I hear someone say my name one more time today, I'm changing it. 7. I can't believe I'm still working here. 8. If I have to explain this one more time, I'm going to go apeshit. 9. My co-workers are effing crazy. 10. Leave me the fuck alone. 11. How am I ever going to get this done? 12. Is it over yet?
There. That should cover me for the next couple weeks.
I honestly don't know how to jolt myself back into feeling again. Maybe jumping out of a plane'll do it (stay tuned for that!). But I know that I just have to jump through hoops for now, and put my ear (hee hee) to the grindstone and "This too shall pass." I know that I know that I know that. But that doesn't make it any easier. Or any less mind-numbing. But I'll continue to take deep breaths in and out, and try to function in all of my different roles as best I can. I know they're all going to suffer, but it's all I can do to keep it all together now. I guess one day I'll be able to tell you about why full moons are going to make me cry. Or why I'll never buy bulgar salad from Holiday Market ever again. Or why I'll laugh everytime I see anyone eat a coney dog, fully expecting impact with pants.
Until then, I'll have to just keep reading #12 over and over again.
8:25 PM
