I feel as if I'm supposed to be reflecting on my life today. In all honesty, it hasn't been the best year for me, although, if I really thought about it, I could probably come up with some that have been worse. I've been called a selfish person by some, so, in the spirit of trying not to be, I've got to stop complaining about what I don't have and focus on what I do. I need, in 2009, to become a glass half-full girl (woman?... nah, I'm still not ready for that), something it's become increasingly harder for me to be. I'm constantly thinking about how sad I'll be when the fun is over and not enjoying it while it lasts.
So 2009 is going to be the year of optimism. No more worrying about what may or may not happen. I'm just going to live my life, take each day at a time and whatever happens, happens. I'm going to go out on a limb here and make the call that I am too awesome to die alone. Unless I die in the immediate future... see, there's the pessimism I was telling you about! I am going to get all of that out in the next twelve hours, I swear.
Also, to all my friends, I love you more than I can say (unless I'm wasted). I am so happy to have you all in my life and I will appreciate your help in turning over my 2009 leaf. I am allergic to leaves, so I'd rather not handle it all on my own.
Happy 2009!!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
baby come back
I'm sitting here watching Larry King Live and he's talking to a few lawyers about the Caylee Anthony murder and I am literally crying on my couch. How can someone kill a baby like that? How can you look in that baby's eyes- especially when she's YOUR DAUGHTER- and end her life? I just can't imagine how fucking desperate a person has to be to do something like that. And with all the people who want a baby in this world... leave her at the fire department or the police station or at Church.
I wanted to call someone and vent about this but I'm pretty sure my mother is sleeping and neither of my roommates are home and there's really nothing to say about it anyway, other than whining about how people are fucking sick and have no souls. I guess we all knew that anyway but still... I just don't get it. I would have taken her. Anyone out there who is thinking about murdering their babies, just leave them on my doorstep. They'll probably have to eat Ellios and mac and cheese for every meal, but at least they'll be alive.
Also, there is nothing on TV, which is why I was watching Larry King Live in the first place. I blame network programming for making me cry.
I wanted to call someone and vent about this but I'm pretty sure my mother is sleeping and neither of my roommates are home and there's really nothing to say about it anyway, other than whining about how people are fucking sick and have no souls. I guess we all knew that anyway but still... I just don't get it. I would have taken her. Anyone out there who is thinking about murdering their babies, just leave them on my doorstep. They'll probably have to eat Ellios and mac and cheese for every meal, but at least they'll be alive.
Also, there is nothing on TV, which is why I was watching Larry King Live in the first place. I blame network programming for making me cry.
Monday, December 8, 2008
what's in your head
Did you ever think something about a person- not "Ew" or "Ugh" but an actual, rational thought, like, "You are disgusting"- and then immediately worry that the person might be telepathic and come after you in a mindless rage?
This happens to me more often than you'd think, as I am constantly talking to myself, inside my own head, in complete sentences. I'm well aware that this may be lunatic behavior but I've been doing it too long to stop now. The above-mentioned phrase, "You are disgusting", was directed this evening at a heavy, ratty-looking male sitting across from me on the N train. I was so engrossed in the book I am currently reading- I Was Told There'd Be Cake by Sloane Crosley (which is probably the catalyst for the post you are currently reading, since I only ever write things after being jealous that someone else wrote them first)- that I didn't notice the gentleman until I stood up to switch trains. At this point, I heard him making a sucking noise and looked at him for the first time. He was eating a bag of some kind of nuts (grown on a tree, not out of a human male) and spitting the shells onto the floor of the subway, like he was at a baseball game. Even at baseball games, I find that practice vile, since even though you are technically outdoors, you really aren't outdoors, you are inside the stadium and it's someone's job to clean up those discarded shells after you leave to pack yourself into a sweaty subway car. I guess a person could say that spitting the shells is good for the economy, since not spitting them would take away one more job, but that person would not be me. In fact, I can't think of a single place, recession or no, that I would condone people spitting their food on the ground. But I digress... inside of a subway car is certainly not the place for it and I took a moment to look down upon this man, perched on his clearly lower rung of the evolutionary chain, and think to myself, "You are disgusting."
In the literal five seconds it took the train doors to open and me to exit onto the platform, I envisioned a scenario wherein this man would look up at me, hatred blazing in his lidded eyes, and suddenly leap from his seat to chase me onto the platform, beating me into submission and yelling, "Who's disgusting now!?" Obviously, this did not happen and could never happen. Unless of course, my brain and mouth one day fail to function as the wonderful partners they have become and my terrible thoughts spew forth into the audible world. Although, then again, a chubby guy who is slouched on a train spitting food onto the floor is probably in no mood to chase a pretty healthy young woman down a subway platform anyway. I wasn't wearing heels and I have a feeling I could run pretty fast if I thought my life depended on it. The fastest I think I have ever run was away from my friend chasing me with a butterfly. Of course, that was over ten years ago, when I was considerably lighter and... less-developed, but I imagine the adrenaline would carry me through.
...I think the nuts were cashews.
This happens to me more often than you'd think, as I am constantly talking to myself, inside my own head, in complete sentences. I'm well aware that this may be lunatic behavior but I've been doing it too long to stop now. The above-mentioned phrase, "You are disgusting", was directed this evening at a heavy, ratty-looking male sitting across from me on the N train. I was so engrossed in the book I am currently reading- I Was Told There'd Be Cake by Sloane Crosley (which is probably the catalyst for the post you are currently reading, since I only ever write things after being jealous that someone else wrote them first)- that I didn't notice the gentleman until I stood up to switch trains. At this point, I heard him making a sucking noise and looked at him for the first time. He was eating a bag of some kind of nuts (grown on a tree, not out of a human male) and spitting the shells onto the floor of the subway, like he was at a baseball game. Even at baseball games, I find that practice vile, since even though you are technically outdoors, you really aren't outdoors, you are inside the stadium and it's someone's job to clean up those discarded shells after you leave to pack yourself into a sweaty subway car. I guess a person could say that spitting the shells is good for the economy, since not spitting them would take away one more job, but that person would not be me. In fact, I can't think of a single place, recession or no, that I would condone people spitting their food on the ground. But I digress... inside of a subway car is certainly not the place for it and I took a moment to look down upon this man, perched on his clearly lower rung of the evolutionary chain, and think to myself, "You are disgusting."
In the literal five seconds it took the train doors to open and me to exit onto the platform, I envisioned a scenario wherein this man would look up at me, hatred blazing in his lidded eyes, and suddenly leap from his seat to chase me onto the platform, beating me into submission and yelling, "Who's disgusting now!?" Obviously, this did not happen and could never happen. Unless of course, my brain and mouth one day fail to function as the wonderful partners they have become and my terrible thoughts spew forth into the audible world. Although, then again, a chubby guy who is slouched on a train spitting food onto the floor is probably in no mood to chase a pretty healthy young woman down a subway platform anyway. I wasn't wearing heels and I have a feeling I could run pretty fast if I thought my life depended on it. The fastest I think I have ever run was away from my friend chasing me with a butterfly. Of course, that was over ten years ago, when I was considerably lighter and... less-developed, but I imagine the adrenaline would carry me through.
...I think the nuts were cashews.
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