ChemChyck

Loira ou Morena?

2005-09-29T12:53:00.000-04:00

Ok, so before I start this discussion I just wanted to share with you that my university gave FREE subscriptions to the first 3,000 students who signed up for this one music thing. It's like... a site where you can download any mp3 you want legally (b/c my school was having a prob with students dling illegal mp3s on the school server), and there's no spyware or ads or any of that other garbage. Well I was amongst the first 3,000, so I've been downloading all sorts of crazy songs (I've downloaded 300 since yesterday...hahha). Oh yeah, and the speed is much faster, because you're not dling from other ppl. So if any of you want me to dl a song for you just let me know, but FYI, this is an american thing, developed for american students, so the variety of foreign music is rather limited, MUCH to my disappointment. In fact, it's almost useless to me because I really don't listen to any music in english (I do, but very seldomly).

And so in regards to that, there was some chyck who posted and said that, although Cheb Khaled is considered the King of Rai, she things Cheb Mami has better music. It was a long and interesting post. Soooooo on my new little program here where I get music for free, I dled like 30 of Cheb Mami's songs and I have to say that this music is FAR inferior to Cheb Khaled's. That chyck has gross taste.

SOOOOOOOO!!!!! With the title of this little blog here: Loira ou Morena????

In my Portuguese class we were discussing and describing hair colors, and when it came around to my prof, one of the students described her as having brown hair. My prof said that in Brasil she is considered to have blonde hair, and it wasn't until she got here that anyone ever said that she has brown hair. And it's true; shades of hair and how they are classified depends heavily on the region. In Brasil there are a lot of people with very dark hair, so someone with her hair color (I would classify her as having a light brown) is considered blonde. Here in the States where most people have some shade of light or medium brown, and all sorts of shades of blonde are not unusual, we are definitely more "picky" about what we consider blonde. We have "platinum", "golden blonde", dirty blonde", etc. In places where light hair is much more uncommon, if you have any shade that is lighter than X then you are considered blonde. Here, no.

I recall that when I was in France people always referred to me as 'blonde', and for those of you who know me, you know that I am not blonde. But I went to the south of France in a city where there are a lot of North African immigrants from countries such as Algeria and Morocco, and with them, along with mixed blood, most of the people in that city in France have very, very dark hair. So to see someone with hair as light as mine (comparatively), they classified me as blonde, because to them I was blonde.

But it's just interesting, you know? In a sociology class that I took in high school the teacher said that it has been realized that things that are more prevalent or that play more important roles in a culture have more words for those things. It is true. Hair color is just one example. Here where blonde is more prevalent we have all different names for all of the different shades, whereas if you have dark hair you have dark brown or black. In Brasil they have one word for "blonde" and a million other words to describe darker hair and different shades of skin tone, etc. Likewise, compare the northern US with the southern US. In Florida, for example, they have one word for 'snow', and that is "snow". In northern states, take Maine, for example, they have many words to describe the type of snow. Powder, slush, etc. depending on its consistency due to amount of water and temperature. And likewise, up in north north north north noooooorth Canada where it's all but arctic (and they do have people who live there, I watched a videotape on it), they have even more different words for snow (and I forget what they are), but it was crazy. Anyway, I just find that really interesting.

...But so that makes me wonder. Because when I studied Latin, I noticed that the Romans had many different words for "sex" or "making love". I mean many different words for it. Some of which were quite creative, if not somewhat poetic, for example "skirmishes of Venus". So does this mean that the Romans had a lot of sex???? Poor boys. I guess they were bending over quite a bit, huh?

Yes, sometimes I, too, tend to smoke crack

2005-09-24T22:42:00.000-04:00

I don't know what is wrong with me, but every now and then (and I mean this happens VERY VERY VERY rarely, like once a year IF even... perhaps once every few of years) I become absolutely irrational. I become so irritated by something so minor that my reaction is 1,000 times more dramatic than what it should be.

Tonight is definitely one of those nights. I was doing my laundry, and as soon as they finished washing, my mom decided to take them out, put them in the dryer, and then upon that ending, fold them for me. While in most cases people would find this to be a nice gesture, in this case it mad me extremely mad. I appreciate her thoughtfulness in trying to help me out, but I became SOOOOOOOOOOOOO pissed off that I could barely manage a 'thank you' (and I mean barely). I was so WILDLY pissed off that I could hardly think straight. And it's not because I don't want her seeing what kind of underwear I have or the sort, but it's because I am very particular about the way my clothes are folded, and which are folded and which aren't and what should be dried and what shouldn't be. And it just requires too much effort, because she had dried things that were not supposed to be dried, I had to REFOLD EVERYTHING and had to REDRY some stuff because..... okay anyway. Instead of people MESSING with my stuff, I'd just be 1 million times happier if they leave it alone in the first place. I was retardedly pissed off about my clothes, and there's really no reason for it. I knew it was absolutely ridiculous to be so mad, because it's just clothing, yet at the same time I could not help feeling what I was feeling. Thank god, though, that I managed not to squeeze my fists and turn all shades of purple in front of my mom. I would've felt really bad if she had known that I was pissed off at her intended thoughtful gesture.

I recall a similar situation in which my emotions were brought to an irrational extreme. This was probably 5 years ago, but my mom was making salmon. She had salmon filets, and she was baking them. She put mayonnaise on all of them, and dill on top of the mayonnaise, and wrapped them in aluminum foil, and baked them as such. Well, when she pulled the fish out of the oven and I realized what NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTINESS she put on the salmon I was ridiculously pissed off. I was very, very upset. I would rather have just a plain salmon filet, baked in the oven with absolutely nothing on it. But I was anticipating eating the salmon, and when I saw it, I knew that there was no way I could eat it, even if I scraped the stuff off, because really, the mayonnaise had soaked into the fish. So ultimately I wouldn't be eating it. And I was SOOOOOOOOOOOOO mad and SOOOOOOOOOO upset that this rush of emotions came over me and I started to cry. ...Over fish!!!!!!!!!!!!! That is obnoxious to get that upset over fish!!!!!!

And it makes no sense. It makes no sense to me how my emotions could reach such extremes. And it's weird, because as it is happening I realize that what I am feeling is not normal and I should not be feeling that way to such an extreme, but nonetheless, I feel it. Now...thank god it only happens once every 5 years, because if it happened any more often than that I'd start wondering if I needed professional help or something. ... And so I'm trying to think... did I have a bad day today? No... The only thing I can think of is stress. I've been very stressed out lately... well the past 3 weeks, really, so it makes no sense that now I'd react this way. Perhaps it just kept building up and building up and building up and I finally just snapped. But I guess if that is the "snapping" result of a pile of stress then that's pretty good.

Ummmmmmmm.........yeah.

Friendliness of Americans vs. Non-Americans (foreigners)

2005-09-19T11:25:00.000-04:00

So... if you read my last post you will see that o Brasileiro was REALLY nice. Crazy nice for only having just met him 20 minutes prior. So I was talking to a friend of mine and he said "Naturally he was nice. Foreigners are always nice."

At one of my old jobs I met a French woman and I was chatting with her and she said that she LOVES the USA because the Americans are so nice and warm and just much friendlier than the French people. I never thought about that. My friends who have gone to France have complained that the French were cold and mean and rude. Par contre, when I went to France I found them to be very warm and accommodating. I think, though, that it depends on a couple of things. #1- the region, #2- how touristy you are. I spent most of my time in the south of France, where ppl are known to be much warmer and welcoming. In Paris, where most people tend to go, ppl are busy, colder (like the weather) and perhaps rude. When I went to Paris ppl were very nice to me, though, and I wonder if it's because I speak the language. I've been told by sooooooooo many people that they think I am French (and when I say people, I mean the FRENCH think that I am French, probably due to my near flawless accent). So perhaps they were nice to me because they thought I was one of them. But the French are rabid about preserving their culture. ...and I think with due cause. If you think about it, would you want a whole bunch of loud, bawdy people wearing god awful outfits come to the USA and speak another language and expect you to understand them and serve them and whatnot???? I mean, no way. It's like "Dude, come to my country and if you want to be served and helped then learn the language, because I am living in my own country where I speak my language and not yours." I mean, could you guys expect all Americans to learn french or spanish or italian or mandarin or arabic??? I mean... no!!!! In this country we speak english. If you want pizza, ask for it in english. So, you need to think about it from their point of view.

I have done some travelling in my time, and during my travels I've gone to countries where I do not speak their language. For example, Poland and Hungary. And so when I needed something I used a WHOOOOOOOLE lot of body language. And I felt bad doing that. For some reason I feel like I have an obligation to learn the language (at least a little bit) or I shouldn't go there at all. But that was during my exploration of eastern Europe, where there were just too many different languages to have to learn. If I actually learned a little czech, a little polish, a little ukrainian, a little hungarian, a little

Classes and Stuff

2005-09-19T11:24:00.000-04:00

So my classes are going quite well. I really love my Portuguese class!!!! :-D But it's frustrating because we have an old lady (ok, in MY opinion she's old. She's like... 55-60) in class, and she doesn't catch on to anything, so we have to review and review and review 100 million times and it's just really slowing us down and we're not going nearly HALF the pace that I'd like to go. :-/

My Sign class is going well. I got to utilize my mad skilllllllz on Friday when I went to a party with my friends. It was kind of a "welcome back to school, I haven't seen you in forever" party, and at the party there were quite a few REALLY cool deaf kids. So I was signing with them and some of my hearing friends who know sign were signing with them and we were just standing in a circle, signing.

On Tuesday I went to my old high school to say 'hola' to my teachers, and specifically because I wanted to talk about bringing a French girl into her advanced French classes for ...I dunno...cultural stuff. But I went there and was chatting with ppl and EVERYONE remembered me. I've been out of high school for HOW many years and they all remember me perfectly well. That's nice. :-D They were stopping me and giving me hugs and whatnot. See, that's why I love my high school. It was the best. Anyway, they asked me what I was up to and I mentioned that I am going to be moving off to Brazil and they were like "oh my gosh, you know, there is a Brazilian foreign exchange student that we have here in the senior class." and I was like "really." So I went down to the senior lounge and said "Hello, I'm looking for a Brazilian boy." and a couple of girls were looking around and said "I don't know where he is." But a group of them decided that, since they had nothing better to do, they'd walk around the school with me to try to find him. hahaha. Sooooooooooooo we located him. I was introduced to him. "Hey, André, I don't know who is this, but she wanted to talk to you." Soooooo I was talking to him for a while....for like 20 minutes and we hit it off immediately.

I told him that I will be working on Fernando de Noronha and his eyes BUGGED out of his head and he said "What?!?!?!? Everyone wants to go there!!! Americans, Europeans, even Brazilians all dream of going there!!! But you can't go there unless you're really rich, because it is a very exclusive island, and up until like 5 years ago the public was not even allowed ON the island. It is paradise. You just don't hear people say 'Yeah, I'm going to Fernando de Noronha.'!!!!!!!!!" hahahhaaha He's craaaaazy jealous of me. I love it! >:-D But so anyway, so we were chatting and talking about Carnaval, música brasileira (he loves Ivete), and other stuff. He gave me a little bracelet in Brazil's colors with a tiny little Brazilian flag in the center. It's so cute. And then he gave me a CD and two DVDs to borrow. (whoaaaaa)

Which brings me to the following subject: friendless of Americans vs. Foreigners. Since my blogs are too long, I will post this in a new one.

Camping and Enrique

2005-09-09T16:41:00.000-04:00

Volleyball Tournament--

Well we ended up getting second place, but it really was a nice ending. We played, what, 7 or 8 games in a row?!?!? In the rain. We were all soaked, our feet and legs had wet sand and mud all over. We were covered in a light layer of sand and trying to wipe our eyes with any part of our body did no good. To our credit, the team who did win only played, what 4 games? So I think we had quite a bit less energy than them. And for that, I think we did really well. We did lose to that team, but not without a good fight. I thought we played well, and above all, despite the sand in our eyes and our hair, the never-ending rain and the exhaustion that we were trying to fight off, we really had fun. And fun is the point of it all, right? YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY Taro Milkshakes!!!!

Camping--

So the day after our tournament we went camping (we being: my father, stepmother, older sister and myself). We camped in the mountains. First night we got there it was rainy (yayyyyy Katrina!) and electricity went out. We played cards with our vision illuminated only by candles. My stepmom, as much as I do dearly love her, dear god... she had one of the largest flashlights on and my dad said "we should keep it off to reserve battery power until we need it" and she said "no, it's okay, it's plugged in." and my dad said "well plugging it in is not going to do much good if the electricity is out." (uh duhhhhhh) I shared sleeping quarters with my sister, who, I swear to god, she did nothing but snore and kick and punch the whole time in her sleep. I woke up with bruises and problems with deafness. (Just kidding. I figured she is probably reading this and I wanted to write that so that she'd have a heart attack. Actually, she was pleasant to sleep with. Nothing crazy goin' on there.)

Next day we were freezing our little booties off, coloring in a coloring book with crayons. My dad did... who knows what, while my stepmom, my sister and I just colored pictures. Mine came out so cute and of the three that I did, two of them were reminiscent of my ex-boyfriend (#4) who, for some reason, I have been missing quite a bit lately. My third pic was in tribute to Jamun!!!!! We were freezing, in pants, shirts and sweatshirts over those shirts and my older sister wanted to hit up the water park. I said "$#(!#%$!?**$@ are you crazy?!?!" because to go to a waterpark in our SWIMSUITS and get wet when it's already freezing seemed absolutely insane to all of us. Somehow she convinced us to go. And I'm glad she did. My sister wore a bikini (it was all black, with a halter top and boycut shorts), and I refused to wear my bikini when my dad was around (ummm it's my dad!!!!), so instead I wore an ultra conservative nastiness which, I decided, needs to be retired. We went down crazy slides. One of the best ones my sister didn't like because it "totally owned [her]" AHAHAAHA. I don't think it's possible to wipe out on a slide, but if it's possible that's what she did. I think she didn't think to plug her nose as the end came by and got water allllllll up in her grill. hahaha what?!? yeah. All the guys at the top of the slides were really flirty with us. I don't know if my sister noticed or not, but they most definitely were flirty. At the wave pool one of the lifeguards had his toenails painted BRIGHT pink. He looked normal and totally straight... and then you look at his toenails and whoaaaaaa lord! What's goin' on there?!?!?? It was neat to see all of the cool setups, because I hadn't been there in probably 10 years and I forgot how cool they were. My sis took tons of pics and I will get them from her and perhaps post a few on this.

S'morrrrrrrres! yeah. The next day we shopped around the touristy shops and left kinda early because we had to be back to pick up Enrique (he is one of my best friends who seems to be one of two people who actually posts on these blogs).

Enrique's Trip--

Sooooooo we picked up my honey (or rather, my sister picked up my honey), and I met up with them at my sister's place before we headed out for dinner. We then went out for drinks with all of our pals, and went dancing. I noticed that most of the time it was just my sister and I that were dancing, before giiiiiiiiiiirl and Enrique joined. But the others weren't too up for dancing because they suck for crack $$. It was really quite a crazy night, as pictures might indicate, and if I can obtain those from my sister, I will perhaps post a few on this, also. There are one or two pics that are really just hilarious and need to be posted. I will really try to get them.

Saturday-Monday night my sister and Enrique flew to NYC together to hang there. I had to stay because I had a whoooooole bunch of stuff going on. Sunday I talked to a friend of mine and worked out plans to go to Brasil. :-) Picked up the kids at midnight on Mon (or rather on Tues. morning, technically), went to bed. Woke up for my portuguese class, which I love. Met back up with Enrique and my sister and went kayaking. That was fun...until I was soaking wet and then I wasn't so happy. Later that night we met up with a crapload of friends and my little sister and her fiancé. I saw ppl who I hadn't seen in forever, and because there were so many of them I hardly had time to talk as much with everyone as I wanted to. Wednesday my sister and Enrique went to some waterfalls and to a park. I met up with them later at my mother's house. We (my two sisters, my little's fiancé, my brother, and Enrique) had dinner and chatted. It was the first time Enrique had ever been to my house, and he got the tour of my room, which he decided was more girly than he had anticipated it would be. :-( Wed. night I spent the night at my sister's and then, after coming back from portuguese on Thurs, I took Enrique to the airport.

It was loads of fun. Loads. And... yeah, that's it. I'll just have to put some pics up that will describe what really went on, because otherwise, I'll be sitting here for another hour or two, going into details.

Tonight I am meeting up with my stepmom and older sister for pizza, wings and a movie. My GIRL is back in town from her summer co-op (I'm SO excited!!! I missed her!), and so I will probably be hanging with her either tonight or tomorrow night. Funnnnnnnn! ;-)

Snobbish men and my HATRED for them!!!!!

2005-08-22T12:37:00.000-04:00

"Políticos embriagados
Dançando em guetos arruinados
E os profetas desacordados
A te ouvir" --Skank Tanto (I love this song)

Oh my god.. 4 posts in a row. I've been glued to my chair for the past couple hours. Ugh. Last one!

So, I signed up for Okcupid. (www.okcupid.com) It's a site that I heard about a couple of years ago, and they give all of these crazy quizzes. The REASON I signed up was just to take tons and tons of quizzes just out of sheer amusement. It is also, though, a place where people can post a pic of themselves and create profiles and chat with other people, whether to meet new friends or for possible dating in your area, or whatever. But the quizzes are awesome like "What Ben & Jerry's ice cream flavor are you?" and "What would be your job if you lived in the 1400s?", "How effective is your gaydar?" and other random, useless quizzes that are a ton of fun to take just to get the results. So I've taken TONS of quizzes. Probably 100+. Anyway, as I was signing on (I was bored and looking for cheap amusement), there is a section that says "so and so really liked this quiz" or "so and so just added this to his/her profile" etc. And one was this guy who had just added "Pallas" to his profile and I was thinking 'ooooh!!!', so I clicked on his profile to read more about him. For those of you who don't know, I had taken 5 years of Latin in school, and 'Pallas' is actually a name for the goddess of wisdom, 'Athena'. And I thought that his reference was perhaps to that, but it wasn't. It was to a band called 'Pallas'. But I found that out after reading through his profile. But READING through his profile I discovered that he's working on his PhD in quantum chemistry, and he speaks english, russian, french, czech, swedish and ukrainian, and said that if anyone speaks any of the latter four that they should message him. In addition, he made some comment about "From my country...blah blah blah" And so I was curious as to where he is from. SO (though I don't normally EVER message random people), seeing as how I love chemistry (especially organic chem), have a knack for languages and an affinity for foreigners, I wrote him an email through Okcupid, but in French. And just talking about whatever stuff. I found out that he has been living in the states since 2002. He is from Ukraine and his family still lives there. I also discovered that his french is much weaker than he'd made it sound to be. Too bad that we don't have more languages that overlap, because I'd love to practice mandarin or portuguese with him.

In any case, I was talking to him and OH MY GOD is this guy a snob. Like...ridiculously so. I'm not sure I've met anyone like him. He whines about how he came to the USA to practice english and he speaks english better than anyone here (he english is flawless, and he does have impressive vocabulary), he talks about how everyone is stupid and he's sick of talking to unintellectual people. And then he talked about this cute Peruvian girl (in my opinion she's cute, but he terms her as 'OK') who has become enamored with him, who he can't stand even hanging out with because her intelligence is so inferior to his own. He said he has TWO friends in the states, but all the rest are from Quebec or Belgium or Ukraine or some other place in the world. I asked him if he ever misses his family and he said "No. I have grown out of their social class. I have nothing to even talk to them about anymore." I think my jaw about dropped on that one. He feels he is better than his parents and too good for his parents.

Then he continued to talk about how he loves chess and philosophy and criticism. He talked about how he is a stark atheist and how people who believe in any religion are so stupid and beneath him. He has a contempt for a religion and he pities religious people. He then remarked that he listens to "intellectual music", and only 1% of the world actually listens to intellectual music and unless someone is truly intelligent that person cannot enjoy that music. He commented on how Americans are fat and have a poor sense of humor. And the USA needs to be like Europe and develop more subways and public transportation so that people can get more exercise and stop using cars for everything.

He talked about his theses and about how he is going to sell some idea to google for $100,000,000 and be rich. He said he will only date girls who are beautiful, very intelligent and rich. He continued to say that the USA is an awful place to live and if the economy were better in other countries he'd move immediately. He said that it is imperative that people learn how to speak french and read french literature and he will not converse with people who cannot speak french. I mentioned sports and he completely dismissed them as as "unworthy of an intellectual's time and attention". He then said that he does not watch American movies because 95% of them are worthless crap, and he has "no patience to seek a few decent ones among the still formidable remaining 5%."

I used the word "fun" (I said something like: "Oh, that should be fun.") and he very nearly had a heart attack, saying that he was going to pick on me for the rest of the night because I use such words as "fun". He said "Mmmm... when I have to talk to my parents I talk about about the expenses of living in Atlanta, and that pleases them." That's stupid. No one talks like that. That pleases them?!?!? NO!!!!!!!!!!! THEY THINK TALKING ABOUT EXPENSES IS FUN! FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay, perhaps 'fun' would not go in that case. Perhaps, rather, they enjoy hearing about the costs of living in Atlanta, or they find it amusing. Yes, 'fun' is perhaps not the word to fit in that sentence, but I will say it anyway. FUNNNNNNNN. Expenses are fun! They are chill in da hood, yo!

He talked about how when he was 14 he was chosen among just a few kids in Ukraine to work on different ways to make LSD. I had mentioned that I learned how to make heroine through an organic chem class, and he commented, saying, "LSD is about 100 times more difficult to make than heroine. Anyone can make heroine." Ummm.....

He concluded the conversation saying that by talking to me he can tell that I'm not very intelligent but I seem nice enough so he shall continue to talk to me for the time being. WTF?!?!?!?!!???? I can say that I have NEVER in my life so much regretted knowing french. I have never in my life been more patriotic than I am now, and now I want to spend hours on end watching American movies... that is, after I spend a few hours playing sports. He's given me utter disdain for anything European. I now refuse to touch a chess board with a ten foot pole. I cannot believe someone like him exists. And if I were his parents I would be ashamed to have him for a son, not the other way around. Ugh.

NYC part 2-- The Concert

2005-08-22T11:05:00.000-04:00

Well, juuuuust as we were pulling up to the Jones Beach Theater it was 6:53pm and A said "No way!!!! You are too good! I don't know how you do it. You always manage to get yourself out of situations that seem impossible!" I got out, he hopped in the driver's seat and drove away to go get some dinner and nap for a while during my concert. I called T, who said that she was over near the playground with some guy she'd just met. We hung up the phone and turned to her new acquaintance and said "Okay, my friend said she's heading here and should be here any minute." "Okay, what does she look like?" "Well... she's tall. Like... Amazon woman tall. You really couldn't miss her if you tried." (What?!?! That's evil! But her, you have to keep in mind that she is completely opposite of me as far as structure.. and appearance in general. Her hair color is significantly darker than mine and it's noticeably longer. She's MAYBE 5'0 tall, and seeing as how she eats vegetables and fruits all the time and little of anything else, and seeing as how she's worked out almost every day of the week since she was 14 years old, you must imagine that she is in killer shape. My hair is quite a bit lighter than hers, is relatively short, and I have almost a foot on her. (10") I was telling my mom that sometimes I feel a little uncomfortable walking next to her due to the height difference. Especially, too, because I like to wear heels and platformed shoes. Walking down the street together you see tiny, petite little T and then you see me, and I'm like some big oaf.)

T seems to have a knack for wrapping people around her little fingers. No, seriously. I don't think you can quite imagine. It's ridiculous. Everyone is her slave. ...and I don't know HOW she does it. If I know any women that are candidates for being a dominatrix, let me tell you, she'd get my #1 vote. So I see her, and gave her a hug, seeing as how I haven't seen her since MAY!!!! Her new acquaintance is a 50 y.o. millionaire from Florida going through a divorce. Not what I was expecting.... She told him where we were sitting (in the way back) and asked where he was sitting. He said that he didn't have tickets, but that he'd be sitting in the front row... because he had "connections". And he said he'd get us moved to the front, too. Nice!!! So he asked T if she liked beer and she said "No, I'm more of a wine person." He said "Oh... because I have beer in my car. I thought we could have a little tailgate party." Anyway, T had a huge backpack with her and he told her that she probably wouldn't be allowed in with it, so we hopped in his car (why?!?!!? I barely knew him. And I don't think she knew him for much longer than I did. He could've been some crazy serial killer or something.) and he drove us over to where T was parked, though not before asking everyone in their car if they had any wine that they would exchange for some beer. No luck. So we got out and she put her backpack in her car and I got in to test it out (it's her new Cadillac). He drove away. We got back out and wondered where he went. We looked all around. I told her that he ditched us and she that that, no, he must've just gone to park his car. But where?? We slowly walked back towards the gate. Stood in front of the gate... and he was just nowhere to be found. We searched back over at the playground. Nothing. "T, he bailed." "No he didn't!!!" "He definitely did." "I don't think he did." But we stood at the gate for another 15 minutes and after still nothing we decided to just head in (the concert started at 7, but there was an opening band(which was AWFUL imo), and the "main attraction" came on around 8:30). We got in and gave our tickets to the guy to scan them, who, upon scanning them, said, "Oh, it looks like your seats have been upgraded. Please go see that woman to the right over there." T and I just looked at each other and we were like 'YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!' Needless to say, we got NICE seating.

So the concert, the "main attraction" was to see Tori Amos. Some people like her music, some people do not. Regardless of whether or not you like her music, you must acknowledge that she is a very talented musician. She was playing two pianos at once. Sometimes she'd play, with her back to the piano, her arm reaching behind her to play with the piano with her left hand, while her right hand was concentrating on playing on the organ directly in front of her. It was crazy. And playing the piano alone, you could see that she definitely had mastered this instrument. I was very impressed. And anyway, I think she has a nice voice. Whether you think so or not, she hits those notes perfectly and smoothly. I happen to like her music (if not then I wouldn't have gone to the concert). The show was great. The theater was all open-air like a colosseum, and the stage was ON the water, so we were facing the water. The moonlight was playing across the gentle waves that were coming in and Tori started her piano bar. "Tori's piano bar! Now taking requests!!! And martinis 2 for 1." she said. People were shouting out all sorts of songs. She kicked it off with that song from the Wonder Years--"What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me your ear and I'll sing you a song and I'll try not to sing out of key. I get by with a little help from my friends...." We had anticipated that she'd play for about an hour but she played quite a bit longer than we had thought she would. She even came back out to play some more songs for the encore.

The concert was awesome, though, and I'm really glad that I went. Never saw that one guy (the acquaintance) since. T and I hugged and parted. A came to pick me up and I drove us out of NYC. Since it was so late at night we figured one of us would sleep while one drives and then we'd switch about half way through. I was soooooo tired. We'd gotten about 6 hours of sleep the night before and had spent most all of the day walking around, so I was just physically exhausted and sooooooo ready for bed. Staying awake was not easy. Finally, I got off at an exit and we stopped at a gas station. I woke him up and while I filled the gas tank he went in and bought potato chips and a double chocolate muffin and Mountain Dew (I think it was that) and an energy drink. I went to bed while he drove, and then at 6:30am on Thursday he woke me up as we'd just arrived at the airport (he left his car there when he boarded the plane on Tues). We hugged and parted. I went home, took a shower, and did some last-minute review before heading off for my final. Crazy.

NYC part 1

2005-08-22T10:19:00.000-04:00

So I promised my best local girl, T, that I would go to a concert with her on Wednesday. The concert was being held in Long Island on Wed. night, and Thursday at noon I had a final. Oooooh!!!!!! As I was free on Tuesday, I decided I'd head down a day early, seeing as how I've NEVER been to NYC before. So Tuesday morning at 1am I make sleeping reservations, I sleep a few hours and pack my bags and then head to NYC. At 10am-ish, my boy, A, calls me to see what I'm up to and I said "Not much, just driving to NYC." and he said "Oh my godddddd!!! Come get me! I'm so bored and I have nothing to do! I wanna go, too!!!" And I explained that I was only going down for literally like... a day (I was going on Tues and coming back Wed) and I said that I had to go to a concert on Wed night and there were no extra tickets. He didn't care. So he told me to pick him up and I said "duuuuuuuude!! I'm already 1.5 hrs. from you, so if I turn around and come back I will have taken a 3 hr. detour!!!!!" and so he said "Okay...." annnnnnnnnnnd next thing I know, he is looking at flight prices online. He finds a cheap flight and hangs up the phone with me to go take a shower and pack. He got to the airport a half hour later, boarded the plane with his one-way ticket and flew to NYC. He even got there before me!!!!! Rahhh!!!! So after a gruelling drive, I'm walking down Broadway and oh, look, there's A.

So A and I walk to this nearby bakery/deli place to get a late lunch. I got a slice of pizza and he got a sandwich. He decided he felt gross after sitting around in a hot subway and I felt really gross after hourrrrrrrrrs of driving (not sure why), but so we both decided to take a shower (plus, that way I could drop off my stuff), and then we got dressed and headed out. We walked around Times Square (we actually did a LOT of walking). Mainly did some exploration. Later we went to some diner (it was called a 'diner', but it was a classy place with business men and the sort, and their food was all homemade and delish (and somewhat pricey... for a diner, in any case)). Before heading to the diner I had just bought mango juice with tapioca pearls and I wasn't hungry, so I didn't eat when we got to the diner. The service was RIDICULOUS. As soon as we sat down water was set in front of us. The waiter was very nice and attentive. A said that his salad dressing was the best dressing he'd ever had in his life. I was sitting in the corner of the booth with my legs pulled to my chest and my hands covering my upper arms and some guy (I think he was the manager, maybe???) stopped at our table and asked me if I was cold. I said that I was freeeeeezing, and he stood there for a minute and looked at me in silence and then said, "...Really?!?" "Yeah!" Next thing I know he turns the A/C off and comes back to the table and says "It should warm up in a bit." I was thinking 'omg, he adjusts the temp for one person?!?!?' Because probably everyone else in there was fine. I am always, always cold. A said he was fine, and everyone else in the restaurant looked quite comfortable. About 10 minutes later the hostess turned the A/C back on and just a couple minutes after that the owner went over to the thermostat and turned the A/C off and it stayed that way. hahhaa Awwwwwwww yeah! Who's dA qUeEn?!?!?!? But anyway, their food was ridiculously good, and A decided that it's like... his new favorite place, and if ever he goes back to NYC he is going to eat there (so remember, it's on Broadway right at the corner of.... hmmmm....100th? 100th & Broadway?!?). Oooooh! And on our way back we stopped at a liquor store and I bought some cachaça (because I plan on making myself a caipirinha!!). Here is a very useful website on cachaça and caipirinhas ----> http://www.deltatranslator.com/cachaca.htm#websites

Sooooo anyway, we went to bed somewhere around midnight and I set my cell phone alarm to 6:30am, because we wanted to get up early to spend as much time in NYC as possible and catch up on sleep once we got home. So we got up, got dressed, and headed out a little section in Queens, known as Astoria. We decided that it was there that we'd have bfast. We arrived at this bakery called Pão Nosso, and A ordered what they termed as a 'Brazilian omelet' and water. The omelet came with homemade bread that had been cut in half, toasted and buttered. The omelet, itself, although I don't perfectly recall, I think had peppers, sausage, onions and other stuff??? Maybe???? I opted for the baked goods in the back. They had 3 pãos de quejo left, so I got those, as well as a long, soft bread roll that was kind of sweet, a yuca cake (it had a gel-ish consistency and had coconut in it), oooooooh and this long, soft bread roll with coconut and sweet stickiness on top. I don't normally drink carbonated beverages in the AM, but I didn't want H2O, and I wasn't about to have coffee, so, seeing as how they had some guaraná, I got a can of that (the Guaraná Antarctica!!!). So we got a table and sat down (don't worry, I only ate the soft bread with the coconut stickiness on top. The rest I saved for the next morning's bfast.), and we were looking at their menu, and I noticed that, among the juices they offered, they listed cashew juice and I was like "whaaaaaaaaaat?!?!?" because I hadn't noticed it before, soooooo I asked the girl if I could have a glass of that and, upon coming back, she stopped at my table and turned to me and said "Have you been to Brazil?" and I thought it was a random question and was wondering ...'what?!?!?!?' but before I said anything, she continued, "Because you seem to know quite a lot about what we eat and..." her voice trailed off and she looked at me and I didn't know what to say to her. I assume that her question is derived from a couple of things: #1- the pãos de quejo were not labeled and when I asked for them, I specifically pointed to them and said "Could I please have the last three pãos de quejo?" and #2- instead of opting for a water, coffee or Snapple, I opted for a popular carbonated beverage consumed in Brazil, and #3- I had asked for a glass of cashew juice, which... I'm guessing very few Americans order. Anyway, I was at a loss as to how to explain how I happened to know so much about the culture and the names of the food and stuff, so I will not tell you what I actually told her, because it's kind of embarrassing. Anyway, she said she was from Rio de Janeiro. Booooooring. I was hoping she'd be from someplace more exciting. Well... not that Rio is boring, but ...usually when people think of a city in Brazil that's the first one that comes to mind. I was hoping she'd say something like "Fortaleza" or "Ouro Preto" or "Porto Alegre" or something of the sort. Oh well.

So ANYWAY, we headed to the fashion district of Manhattan (Broadway & 34th), walked in many stores, including Macy's (you have to!!!). A went shopping in H&M while I managed to find a cool tanktop, pair of sunglasses and sparkly flipflops at Conway. We walked up to 60th & 5th to check out FAO Schwartz. First we checked out Central Park and then watched some break dancing from a group made up of a Thai boy, a Puerto Rican boy, a Ukrainian girl, a Bronx boy, and a girl from Michigan. Umm...ok. Checked out the toy store, which had some crazy stuff, including Swarovski crystal-studded Pez dispensers of Mickey Mouse, Minnie, Donald, etc. for something like $150 each. The store was HUGE.

Oh yeah, oh yeah. Lunch: We went to this buffet that was closing at 2:30pm and we arrived at 2:20 and they said "FYI, we're pulling the buffet in ten minutes. You can sit to eat as long as you want, but just so you know, we're pulling the food." I said "No prob." and took 5 plates of food back to where I was sitting. (WHAT?!?! It was a buffet and they were probably going to throw it away, anyway, and I wanted to make sure that I tried everything.) As I walked back to my table with the forth plate in one hand and the fifth in the other my waiter's eyes just about bugged out of his head and he said "Wow... umm... you must have quite the appetite......" hahahaha (And you'd be amazed at how much of those fives plates I actually ate. I was impressed!!!!) A decided that he'd randomly try some of my dulce de leche, which he'd apparently never seen or had before, and when he had his first taste he was hooked. I swear to god I thought he was going to keel over and die or something. He stopped all movement and was totally silent while staring at the dulce de leche that he'd just tried, until finally saying, "That stuff is legal crack!!!!!!!!!!" and kept eating more and more and more..... I'm surprised my jeans still managed to remain buttoned after lunch (I'm not kidding. They were tight beforehand, and after lunch ... man, I dunno how they didn't rip at the seams.).

Anyway, we had little time to get to LI, where the concert was being held, so we booked it. Ohhhhhhhhh believe me. But we got a little lost in the beginning and then when we finally got on track, oh look, 5:00 rush-hour traffic.... and my concert was at 7pm. T called me, asking where I was. I told her I was on my way and would call when I arrived. A kept saying "Man, you are f*cked. There is no way you'll get there on time." And at this point in time I was just getting really edgy. I was just plain irritable. I was driving in rush hour traffic in NYC, for my first time, and I had someplace that I had to be at a certain time. I have one thing to say: Never Again. Take a plane!!! Because there are air busses that go from the airports and they connect to the subways. They have an extensive public trans system there. There's no need for a car. Not to mention there's too much traffic and parking is difficult to find.

Au Revoir, J!!!

2005-08-22T08:32:00.000-04:00

I haven't blogged in a while, and if you're wondering why, it's because I've been BUSY!!!!!!! I'm a busy girl, what can I say?? SOOOOOO anyway... there is a guy that I worked with whom we shall label as 'J'. Really cool kid. Tonnnnnns of fun to work with. Anyway, he ended up leaving to go back to school (I was sad!), so nowwwwwww I have no one to entertain me. He used to draw these crazy pictures with crazy, creative ideas he had for... one thing or another. In any case, they were hilarious; you have to believe me.

Sooooo last Friday (not this past, but the one before) I met up with him, a coworker M, an ex-coworker P and his new girl (apparently), and S+ for desserts at P's E, which is KNOWN for all of the crazy awesome desserts they make. I don't remember what everyone got. I know J got the flourless chocolate torte, I got a chocolate-almond torte (with marzipan!), S+ got ... something disappointing. Was it a tirimisu torte? No, the mocha.. okay I don't know. Something a little lacking in flavor. P and his gf split a choc. rasp. torte, and M, well... M just got scotch. Ooooh!!! And I had Moroccan mint tea, and I put honey in it. Awww!!! ....

We chatted for a while. P, for some reason, was wildly jealous of J, thinking that he somehow was after his gf, or ... felt threatened that maybe his gf would be after J, despite the fact that he has a gf already (one of 4 years, no less!). And the content of our conversation there I cannot quite recall. Sooooo moving along then, we all left and went to this local bar that has a good crowd, a NIIIIICE outdoor patio with trees and lights and stuff, and darts, pool, free popcorn, etc. We met up with yet another person who used to work with us, my boy, A, and his brother. A and his bro waited probably 10 minutes at the bar before we got there, and when we showed he asked me why we took so long, and I said that it was just because we ended up getting out of P's E a little later. He then commented that that was not the case, and it was actually because J and I were too busy having sex. What?!?!?! Now, I think he must've been kidding, but still!!! Of all the people.... Not sure why guys feel that... I don't know.... they obviously must think that J has something about him..... So we all got something to drink and sat outside chatting. Seemed like we talked a lot about Family Guy and other shows of the sort. We kept breaking glasses!!!!! And we weren't drunk!!!! And the glasses were thick, so I don't know how they could've broken so easily. A tipped over his (empty) glass, and it... ever so slowly...tipped to the table and CRASH!!!! I think no one was anticipating that the very slow tip would break the glass. A said, "What, no leeway?!?!" ahahhaaa Not 10 minutes later I broke mine, but mine was MOSTLY full. I took a tip and set it down on the table and I don't even know what happened, but SMASH!!!!!! ('this beer is gross! HULK SMAAAAASH!!!') We hung until 1:30am, but then left because J had to WORK at 7am, and I had to work at 9am, so we figured a few hours of sleep would be nice. On our way out, A's brother handed S+ his phone number and asked her to call him. Ahem.

We left and went home. Woke up early the next day to go to the bakery just down the road (it's a one-person bakery. It's a girl who graduated from the CIA and opened her own bakery and she's the only one who works there. And she's soooo nice.), because I figured that J would not have eaten bfast on his way out the door for work in the morning, and also because he was leaving!!!! :-( So I went there with a raspberry twist in mind, but I saw these massive cream puffs, and, at a loss as to which to get, I just got them both. As it turned out, I was right in thinking J had not eaten bfast. Work was fun, despite the fact that we were both dead tired, and OHHHHHH my god were we such slackers that day. The two of us sat in the back for hours, doing absolutely nothing other than eating and chatting.

I went to my dad's for dinner and called J to see if he wanted to hang one last time before I never see his a$$ again. We planned for bowling that night. Fun!!! So J, A and K (a friend of A's) and I all met up and went bowling. It was FUN!!! First game A won and K (who had arrived in his pj's since there was no apparent dress code) came in last. Second game K won and A came in last. First game J beat me, and second game I wanted to beat him so badly, but go figure we tied. :-( J then had to go home and pack. I gave him a hug goodbye annnnnd that was the last time I've seen him. A and K and I wanted to go to a coffee shop, but by the time we got out there, they were all closed. We headed home and K mooned me on the highway. It was hilarious.

But so that's the end of J, and it's sad because... it's like... if you have a hamburger at McDonald's (or something), and it has lettuce and tomato and ketchup and mustard on it, and that's how it is and that's how it has always tasted. So... but then you take away the ketchup... and you can always add more mustard or more tomatoes, but it just won't taste the same without the ketchup, ya know? So work's not really the same. :-( You just must believe me when I say that J kept the workplace highly entertaining. But anyway, that's okay. I like my other coworkers, too. In fact, I really like all of my coworkers a lot. Work, in itself, is not fun. But I almost (almost) enjoy going to work just because of my coworkers. I have another coworker, whom I shall label as "Sick J" or 'sJ', and he's a lot of fun to work with, too, so he should be able to keep me relatively entertained. ;-)

Grandddddddmaaaaaa

2005-08-11T19:09:00.000-04:00

Okay, this has nothing to do with my grandma, but when we were younger (my sisters and cousins) we were so bad. I recall some of the stupidest ideas we had (we, as a group, not necessarily ME, mind you!). My father's parents lived on a farm, and so they had a huge red barn and tons of farm equipment and tractors and all of that stuff. Let me tell you, it was a child's paradise. Oh my god, we had the wildest time there. There was tons of land, and since there were tons of cousins, we all got together and played frisbee football and did treasure hunts and tryed climbing the silo and all that. Oooohh, those hot summer nights, running around, playing red rover and tag, trying to catch lightning bugs, getting bit by 100 mosquitos (no, seriously, there was one time in particular that the mosquitos were really bad, but we were young and having fun and we didn't care, so we kept on playing. At the end of the night I don't think anyone ANYONE had less than 30 bites. I counted somewhere around 85 on my body). Oh my god, and the POOL!!!!!! The pool had this candy store with candy that was SO cheap and my dad used to give us each a quarter every time we went (25¢ bought a LOT of candy). Now and Laters, chic-o-stix, tangy taffy, sour patch kids, tootsie rolls and twizzlers. :-D And we even got an extra quarter for the first time that we agreed to jump off the high dive (it was scary!!!!).

And then we went to this one place that had this HUGE pond and across the width of the pond they had rings suspended from like a rope, and you would swing from ring to ring across, but they were so high above the water I never dared to go on. There were slides IN the water, and that oblong cement-ish looking thing that floated and turned with weight and you competed to see who could stay on the longest without falling in the water. There was a lifeguard who thought he was SO hot. He pranced around in just his swimming trunks and sandals, had spikey blond hair, and ALWAYS wore sunglasses. He decided he'd go on the swings during his break when all the kids were watching and he even left his sunglasses on, because he was so sure he wouldn't fall. I think we all SO DESPERATELY wanted him to fall. God, he made me mad. So he was swinging from ring to ring, and as he reached for one he missed, so instead of making it OBVIOUS that he missed, he just pulled the arm back and ran his hand through his hair, as if he had changed his mind at the last minute, because he wanted to fix his hair instead of grab for the ring. HA!

And then, there was a group of young, cocky, teenage lifeguards who did NOT like my cousin, P,(because, what, he was just as much of a stud as them and posed a threat?), and tried picking a fight with him. We all went down the slide on our stomachs and when he went down they yelled at him and told him that he wasn't allowed to go down on his stomach. ...But it was really loud and he either didn't hear them or didn't know that they were talking to him, so he got on again and went down on his stomach, and oooooooh loooooooord. So when he popped up from the water they said "DIDN'T YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID?!?!?!?" "Um..what?" "ARE YOU DEAF?!?!?" "...No, but my dad is..." (his father is deaf), and they responded "GET OUT OF THE WATER, SMARTASS! WE'LL TAKE IT OUT ON THE SHORE!!!! WANNA GO?!?" Oh my god, I hated those guys. Ah, but the memories of summer.....

And so, at the farm, my older sister and one of my cousins thought it'd be neat to oil the tractors, because my grandpa had one of those little tin can things that squirt oil. So they took it and... yeah, didn't exactly oil any of the parts of the tractors that might have needed oil. The next morning when my grandpa went out to the barn and found oil all over his tractor seats he was not too happy. Oooooooh watch out for an angry grandfather!

And then we spent the night at my aunt's house (her house was right on the other side of the farm), we had a brilliant idea. We wanted to know if it was true that if you put someone's hand in warm water it will make them pee. So our cousin (my aunt's son), was 10 years older than us, and sleeping in his room. All of us had been up late, talking and devising our little plan. So we heated up a bowl of water and we tiptoed ever so quietly in the room, whispering and jabbing each other with an elbow if one was whispering too loudly. And we managed to put his hand IN the bowl of water without him waking up (how???). And it must've worked (as I grin), because the next morning we woke up to the sound of my aunt yelling like a madwoman, pissed off that she had to wash his sheets, and whose idea was it to put his hand in a bowl of water, anyway?!?!? hahahaha Ladies and gentlemen, it WORKS, so don't try it. Just take my word for it. And besides, you most likely won't be as lucky as we were in being able to get his hand in the water without him waking up.

But now about my grandmother, who is my reason for creating this new post. The grandmother I'm referring to is actually my MOTHER'S mother, so she has nothing to do with all of the wild little fun I was just describing to you above. But so my mom's mom has always had this crazy little fear of planes, trains and travelling on highways. No, she doesn't care who is driving on the highway, it is being on it that scares her to ridiculousness. So, quite frankly, in all of the days of my life I don't ever recall her having come to visit, although apparently she did when I was like 2 years old. But her fear was so great that every year it was my parents who had to pack all of us rambunctious little kids into the car and drive 5 hours away to go see her. And it had to have been a PAIN, because we fought all the time (me and my siblings). Pulling hair, "Mommmmm!!! She touched me!!!", elbowing, throwing fits if someone was cheating at one of the games we were playing. I was reading a compilation of Nickolodeon songs, and one made me LAUGH because it reminded me of how we were. It was to be sung to the tune of "My darling Clementine", and I don't remember exactly how it went, but it was witty and about stuff like 'this is my seat, this line marks where your seat starts', and part of it the song was "don't you trespass with your butt mass, you'll be sorry if you dare." (break into chorus)

ANYWAY, so my grandma was so scared of travelling that when my sister got married she wouldn't even go to her wedding, and on her wedding day, called her, crying, saying that she was sorry that she couldn't come, but she just couldn't, due to her fear travelling. ahem. Soooooooooooooooo... something happened and my grandma finally CONSENTED to coming to visit (whoaaaaaaaa let's not get crazy now!!!). And why she consented, I will never know. I think it's because she's convinced that she's dying. She's like... in her low-mid 60s, and she's a ridiculous hypochondriac, and she's been convinced that "[she]'ll die in the next year" for the past 20 years. She's in great health, though, so I don't know what crack she's smoking, but whatever it is, it must be good, and now I want to know who her dealer is. ....hahahaa So on Monday my mom drove 5 hours there, picked her up and drove 5 hours right back. And I was talking to a friend of mine, saying "I'm so GLAAAAAAAAAD it wasn't me." and he said "Yeah, you're lucky you didn't have to go pick her up." and I said "Are you kidding?!?? My mom knows that if she were to ask me to drive 10 hours total to pick up grandma I would've said 'Mom, you're dreaming, and grandma can just stay at her house, because frankly, it's not worth the pain.'" hahahaha That's so evil and wrong. So anyway, she's been here since Monday and it's been rather uncomfortable because she's still young enough that she's QUITE together mentally, so it's not like I can talk to her in circles about flowers or pies or something. I actually have to say something of depth. And we never talk to each other, really. We're not super close. So I was standing in the kitchen, and it was the two of us, and I was like, "So grandma..." and I desperately tried to find anything I could to talk to her about. I talked to her about cats, about.... the weather, and stupid stuff. Well it didn't last very long. Before you know it, we both kind of laughed and looked around... trying to find anything to distract us, save us from this THICK air of discomfort. I have been trying to be nice, and so I sat out on the patio at night with her and my mother. They were sitting out there, chatting about... what??!!? Nothing, really. But I joined and just... sat, because I felt that, I knew, that my presence would mean somehow that I cared even if I didn't necessarily participate in conversation.

So yesterday my older sister came over and we had a little family dinner gathering and I was shocked at some of the stuff that was being said in front of my grandma. My sister was talking about how my boyfriends have miraculously been becoming cuter and cuter, with each one I date, and my mom said "I never called you a 'lesbian'!!!!" "Mom, yes you did!" "No I did not. I have no idea what you're talking about." "Okay, whatever." "Oh... well... if I did, maybe it was because the neighbor mentioned it first." "WHAT?!?!?!?!" My mom covers her mouth and my brother and sister are laughing their little booties off. I thought my brother was going to choke on his food. And I said "Why did she say I was a lesbian?!!??" "No, just forget I said that." "No!!!! I've never even met her before, and just because two out of three of her kids are gay, and her sister is a lesbian, it doesn't mean that the whole world is gay." "Well, no... it's just that... you know, she heard about your sister getting married, and she heard about your younger sister getting engagggged... and she never hears about you, and so one day she asked me if you'd ever had a boyfriend." (my mom starts to chuckle, and then continues): "And I told her that, yes, you'd dated K." (K was my bf#2). ...silence... "Mom, you told her I've only ever had one boyfriend?!?!? ...That I broke up with a year and a half ago?!?!? No wonder she thinks I'm a lesbian!!!!!" "Wellllll......"

All the meanwhile, my grandma is sitting there quietly, as we are talking and laughing and whatnot. So my brother finally leaves the table and my sister starts talking about boys and cute boys. And my mom is munching on candy-coated almonds and pecans that my sister bought from a festival. My mom kept eating them, saying "They're so goooooood!!!" And my sister said "Yeah, I know, dad loves them. He said that if I have any left by the end of the month he's claiming them." So we continue to chat, and somehow sex comes up. How did we get on the subject of sex??? OH! Because my mom said "These nuts are better than sex!!!" And I started ranting and raving about how I hate when people say that because not only is it so dumb and cliché, but obviously those people haven't had any good sex before. And then my sister said "Well her sex life probably hasn't been that great. Probably all the sex she's ever had has been like the sex you had with your first boyfriend." My mom then interjects, "Now, I'm not going to start talking about my sex life with my mother sitting right next to me!!!" ...pause.. then my mom turns to my grandma and says "So let's talk about your sex life." and my grandma, whose been quiet the whole time, finally says, "Well I've just been trying to hold my tongue, because look at you! You just got done eating your ex-husbands nuts!" My sister and I just burst out laughing. We were dying. My mom was like "MOM!!! You're mind is so in the gutter!" And we're laughing so hard that our eyes are watering up and my mom is laughing, and my grandma is laughing. Oh my god, that was so clever. Who ever would've been so witty?

And I felt, for the first time, that the ice was completely broken. My grandma is older and I never talk to her, but she's not from another planet. And I felt like I could relate to her, and I knew that she, one day, used to be like me, like my sister, like my mom.... And now I'm glad to see my grandma and I'm glad she's around and I'll be disappointed when she leaves tomorrow. :-(

BUT! Ladies and gentlemen, I'm meeting two young, attractive men out at a bar, so I need to leave. No, I'm not kidding, they are young and attractive and chatty and flirty and OOOOOH it's going to be a fun time. And no, get your minds out of the gutter (little grandma wannabes) nothing is going to happen. :-P

Pics of Brazilian Girls

2005-08-08T18:45:00.000-04:00

Well, ladies and gents, and S++++, you wanted to see how Brazilian girls look. Here are some photos of my friend in France's friends. The first girl (the girl in the first three pics) is the one that E and I suspect must be a model due to her professional poses.

Take me down to Paradise City

2005-08-08T08:46:00.000-04:00

Don't even lie. You wanna go, don't you?

Waterfalls and going Out wit dA girlz

2005-08-06T03:23:00.000-04:00

So... I have my best friend, S, who's been my best friend since we were 10 years old. And yes, we just click that well. And I don't know if she's so much my best friend as much as she's kind of like another sister of mine. But the best thing about her is that not only is she like a sister, but we click so well together that she's a sister with whom I never fight. So... it's the best of both worlds. She is great. And you know how when people get older they change? And so often if you date someone when you are 15 or 16, you're not likely to be with them when you're 25, just because people change. And when you grow older your personalities develop and you become who you are. And we've both grown up and we've both changed, but we've changed together in a way that we are both compatible with each other still. Do you see what I'm saying? You know, it's weird. She was the exact opposite of me in high school and now I've become what she was in high school and she's become more like how I was in high school. That's how I see it, in any case. But anyway, we've changed, and yet we haven't. We're still who we were. Different somehow, but .... I dunno. Weird how that works out.

So if I were to say that I have two best friends, one male and one female, she'd be my best female friend, and my best male friend would be someone that I shall refer to as 'E'. Now E has been mad at me lately (I can't imagine he'd like to see that I'm putting this in my blog. There's probably a lot of stuff I shouldn't be putting in here...), and... yeah, I can kind of see why. But well... my sister asked me tonight (my older sister is also a friend of his, and she also talks to him fairly regularly.) why he was mad at me. Because it was apparent. And I knew. I could tell yesterday when I talked to him that he was not in a terrific mood to begin with and maaaaaaaaaan did I make it worse. By the end of our conversation yesterday I think he was quite peeved with me. Today I signed onto AIM and just as I signed on he signed right off. Hmmmm... coincidence? Perhaps not. So why is he mad at me? Well... for a few reasons. I don't think any to be really mad at me. Well first off, I know he's been working overtime, and working weekends a lot lately, and that hasn't helped his mood. He's been robbed of his living room and has two other people living with him now that he's not happy about. He's been feeling really sick lately. And to make it worse, he's talking to me and I'm just saying things to annoy him. Not intentionally. But for example, he was talking about going to Vegas and mentioned that he went to celebrate his brother's 30th bday. Okay, cool. Fine. So I wrote something along the lines of 'So did you go for any special reason?" (and I meant, in addition to his brother's bday. Because, why Vegas of all places? I mean, was there something else that factored into the decision?), but I think he took it the wrong way, first thinking that I wasn't paying attention to what he just said by saying "Hello!!!!!!! I just said it was to celebrate my brother's bday." and then took 'special' the wrong way, saying "And I think going for his 30th bday is special enough." And that's not what I meant... I didn't mean it to come out that way. But then I asked him if he was planning on getting a place with his gf (they've been dating for a year and things seem to be going as well as they were when they first started dating), and he responded in capitals "HELL NO!!!!!!!!!!!!" ooooooh. Ooooookay then. But I think most of all he was annoyed with me because I was talking about how hot Brazilian women are and I was... well okay, here's the story. A friend of mine from Northern France emailed me and said "Please join this" (it's some online chatting forum type of thing where people post their pics and their profiles and meet up with friends and chat about different things... it's actually nice for meeting new friends around the world.) Anyway, he wanted me to join because he was introduced to it via his Brazilian friends who live in France, but he signed up for it and noticed that while it's completely an international chatting thing, MOST of the forums are all in Portuguese because it seems like the Brazilians have dominated it. So he wanted me to sign up so that he didn't feel like the only francophone (because he doesn't know any portuguese, and his Brazilian friends, while they speak french, they have a ton of other Brazilian friends there to talk to, so they're not talking a lot in french). Sooooooooo I signed up for it. He calls us the Adam and Eve of the french-speaking world on that chat forum. So anyway anyway anyway. I signed up and I was looking at the pics of his friends that they'd posted of themselves and I was thinking "Noooo wayyyyy." Because they all looked like models and so I thought that they were just posting pics of models up. ...And then I looked at more and more pics, because some of them have posted multiple pics of themselves with friends, family, etc. And no, that's actually how they look. It's ridiculous. Wtf. So I was whining to E about how crazy jealous I am and that Brazilian women are by far the hottest and it's not fair, blah blah blah. And so I sent him some pics and he agreed that yes, they were, indeed, hot. He even thought that some were models, too. I think one of them must've been. Her pics looked professionally done. Anyway, but then he said that while they are hot, some of them that I thought were really attractive really weren't all that special and he thinks that my judgment is blinded by my obsession with Brazil and everything Brazilian. Which... is not true! Please. The long, straight, dark, dark hair, with light golden tans and dark eyes? Isn't it obvious? But I don't know. I think he's been mad at me because I talk too much about Brazil and portuguese and stuff of the sort and perhaps it's because he thinks that I've changed. Well... obv. I have. But it's like I'm not the same girl he knew me to be because I've been taken over by this ... obsession. And it's annoying and it's disappointing. Someone who could fall so easily into this obsession over nothing special. It's a weakness, really. I feel like Dido. She was beautiful and regal and respected and had the regards of all of her people. She was power. And then Aeneas came along and she became a sad, pathetic little waif. And she cared too much about Aeneas and became consumed by her love for him and all regality, all power, all respect that she had vanished with whatever pride and dignity she'd had in the first place. She was not the Dido they knew and loved. She'd fallen. She'd changed. She'd become weak. Worthless, really. Anyway, obviously I'm not quite to her extent. Because certainly it's not a love as much as it is, perhaps, a childish infatuation. In any case, whatever respect he'd had for me for the person that I was has fallen....notches and notches and notches because I've become someone who is not myself. Someone consumed by this drug. And I think that's why he's mad at me. I could be wrong.

Okay, I was just going to change subjects now, but I would like to comment just a little further on that note. I agree with him and see why he might be mad at me. I can see how he might have lost some respect or look at me differently. I think it's fair for him to feel that way. Because I know that it has gotten out of hand, and the sad part is that it is all in vain. He knows it, I know it, everyone knows it. Everyone knows it's all in vain. It's gotten out of hand and we all see it and know it. I know it and yet I cannot do anything about it. I'm sinking, sinking, sinking. Falling down down down. It's like I've gone for a swim and a tide pulled me under and I'm under the water and I'm drowning and at the top of the water are my friends and family crowding around, giving me their hands, trying, wanting to pull me out. And I know I want to be pulled out. I know drowning is bad, because, ultimately, it will only lead to death. And yet... I cannot give them my hand. My body has become paralyzed in the icy cold waters and I cannot move to give them my hand. And only one of two things will free me from the cold grip of the deadly waters: either my mind will overcome my body and do this one last burst of energy and I will, determined to live, move my arm enough to reach out and grab onto the extended hands of my friends and family, OR, the icy cold waters will loosen their grip around me because they've decided that, unwilling to fight against the paralysis, I've become uninteresting and unworthy of death. Who wants to have a boring soul hang around? The waters will focus their energy and grip on more interesting subjects and I will be forgotten and released.

Okay, cut the symbolism and metaphors, babe, it's getting old.

NEXT SUBJECT!

Went out with my little brother. We went to the beach, decided it was boring and then headed out to the country to hit up some obscure waterfalls. Yesssssss!!! We got there, and the water was really nice. The waterfalls are in the middle of nowhere. You have to walk to get to them and they are in this dark park, crowded with trees. Trees, trees, trees, and sunlight only in few spots. So we walked up the stream, in the middle of the water, dancing along to the sun rays. We climbed up the waterfalls (and decided it was a bad idea) so continued along until we got to this big pool of water at the bottom of this one waterfall. There was no one there other than us. We waded in the water, skipped stones, were splashing each other with water and messed with the delicate wall of shale. We moved out of the water to bask in the warmth of the sun (have to take advantage of it before winter rolls around again. Less than 90 days 'til snow!!!). We were talking to each other and heard a loud 'pchunk'. This HUUUUUGE mass of rock from the wall just fell and landed in the water where we were standing not two minutes earlier. His eyes widen and he says "We could've been killed if that happened two minutes ago!!!" Yes, I've never seen that. And I was trying, unwisely, to scale that wall earlier. But, looking back on it. I can only imagine what people must've thought if they'd heard us. They'd have heard "Noooo, you're getting my butt wet!" "What, sick Child of Darkness?" "Ah! It's a dead deer and a cow skull. Oh death, it just reeks of death!!!" "What are you talking about? That's not a skull, it's a piece of wood." "Snap! Oh, Snap!" "What?" "Why is there a pair of men's underwear on the rocks here..? Ummm..." And then we got some ice cream. Rather, I got ice cream, because I asked him if he wanted any and he insisted he didn't (what? how can I poison something that I don't even touch???). And we went to this store that we haven't been to in yearrrrrrrrs. Cute store. And then on the way home, driving through the mountains, I was playing Blind Melon-No Rain, Counting Crows-Mr Jones, Matchbox 20 and Pearl Jam, and he'd never heard of ANY OF THE SONGS. And then I felt really old so I cried the whole way home. And this little piggy went to the market, this little piggy stayed home, this little piggy had roast beef, this little piggy had none, and this little piggy cried 'wee wee wee' all the way home. What?!?!?! Anyway, kidding. If you think I'd cry over my brother not recognizing songs then you guys are grossly mistaken. :-P

So this evening/night I went out with my girls for the first time in lord even KNOWWWWWWWWWS how long. No seriously, I don't even remember how long it's been. We went to one place and each got margaritas. I got an original, S+ got a strawberry, and S- got a raspberry. (The +/- indicates age) And we were hottttt little numbers. Oooh! But when aren't we? ;-) So we were messing around with S-. And S+ said that S- has to be our wingman and take one for the team. S- :"Umm what are you talking about? What extent are we talking about here?" S+ :"Well if a group of 3 guys come up and two are cute and one's really nasty you need to preoccupy the nasty one while we hit it up with the cute ones." S- : "Please, there are never two cute guys with one nasty one. It's always two nasty ones with one cute one or two cute ones with two nasty ones." S+ :"Well okay then, you preoccupy the two nasty ones while we hit it up with the cute ones." S- :"Whaaaaat?!?!" S+ :"Yeah, so if someone like the guy who took our order at the bar is with two other cute guys..." S- :"Ohhhhh no. No WAY! He was so gross! I wouldn't even talk to him!" S+ :"Nooo! You'd have to!" S- :"No!"

So eventually we leave and decide to go somewhere else. S- lights up a cigarette as we are walking along the street to our next destination. S+ :"What?!?! Put that away! You are bringing us downnnn!" S- :"What?" S+ :"It's true. That's so dirty. If any guys were to even look at us they'd see you smoking and then just completely lose interest." S- :"I only smoke when I drink." S+ :"Bringing us dowwwwn! How are we supposed to get any guys? Psh! We should've left you at home." We get to our next destination and whoaaaaaaa I know the bartender!!! So I slide up to the nearest free seat, say, "Hey there, baby!" and wink at him. And of course he was like "Oh my gosh I haven't seen you in so loooong!!!" And he gives me a hug over the bar, and was smiling and pointing and nodding. And I'm thinking 'wtf.' Until S- pads my skirt down. Apparently when I was leaning forward over the bar somehow the back of my skirt puffed up and you could see down it a little bit (the bartender was tall and I was leaning over to hug him), and so I guess he got a glimpse of my panties (which is really embarrassing!!!!!). So we sat and chatted with him for a while and then just started talking to everyone. S+ says to S- "Oh my god, put that ring away!!! You are deterring the guys! The last thing they want to see is an engagement ring on a finger!!!" S- :"They don't actually look at fingers." S+: "Yes they do! They see girls they're interested in and the first thing they do it look at the hand." S- :"Well I'm not taking this off." S+ :"You're bringing us downnnnnnn!!!!"

We go outside, and S+ makes a comment: "I cannot date guys unless they are hot. If they are not hot then I won't date them." S- :"That's really superficial." S+ :"It may be, but what can I say?" (told ya' I would put this in here.) I mention that my ex bf #3 keeps callllllllllling me to hang out and I haven't been calling him back because we all know exactly why he's calling me (he would like some chemchyck booty before he never has access to it again). But seriously. Um, no. He's kind of gross. He's really slutty. If ever I dated a slutty boy, man, would bf #3 take the cake. Especially after his last little scuba diving vacation in Mexico. Yeahhhhh. Think I might want to stay away from that to avoid a few STDs. Thanks. Anyway, then I said, "Besides, I refuse to sleep with anyone, because ladies, I am a married woman." They both give me this 'uh huh' look and S- says: "To who? ...Oh wait, Brush-Off guy, right?" and I say "yes." And S+ says "But what is your thing with him? You can only be interested in him because he's hot." "No, I really like his personality. I think he's got a really nice personality." and they both chime in, "Yeah, because guys with great personalities never call you back, stand you up, call you two hours in advance to cancel, make up every excuse in the book not to meet with you, and brush you off 100 times." "Well. Besides that. He has a really nice personality." "What? No, you just like him because you think he's hot." Blah.

Spider crawls in S-'s hair and she starts screaming bloody murder. The whole way home she keeps stopping and tossing her hair all about, saying that she feels the spider. "Dude, it's not there anymore. I got rid of it." "I can feel it! It probably laid 100 eggs in my hair!!!!" "It did not!" "How do you know?" "Because it was a male!" "How do you know it was a male?" "Well it was only this big. And it was white-ish clear and nasty ugly." "EWWWW OH MY GOD THAT'S SO GROSS!!!!!!!" (I'm such an instigator, I love it)

And thus ends the night. That's a SEVERLY shortened version of what happened. But let it suffice to say that we had our fun. Oh, indeed, we did. ;-)

Aaaaaaand now I need to wake up in 3½ hours. So, rock on! But this gold dust woman is hitting the hay.

...omg, dad?

Poem on Kisses

2005-08-04T22:15:00.000-04:00

Probably most of you will not be able to understand the following poem, but I thought it to be amusing, well-written and sweet.

Les baisers (de Pierre Perret)

Y a dans mon dictionnaire usé
La définition du baiser
Ceux qui ont écrit ça me font de la peine
Braves gens je vais vous dire la mienne
Car un baiser c'est du fuego
C'est pas de la bave d'escargot
Et les vieux schnoks de l'académie
Devaient encore être endormis

Y a le baiser le baiser fourbu et flapi
La langue qui traîne jusqu'à terre
Comme un spaghetti ramolli
Le baiser qui fait courir tout Paris
Le baiser saignant et garni
Avec un steack-frites une serviette
Et le service est compris
Y a aussi le baiser tirelire qui est certainement le plus rigolo
Accroupis la langue dehors les narines pincées et les miches dans l'eau

Y a le baiser russe inconnu chez les aristos
La langue repliée en faucille
Et l'autre tendu en marteau
Le baiser compétition argentin
En dansant roulez un patin
Les lèvres soudées le souffle court un chronomètre à la main

Et puis y a le baiser d'Zézette
Le plus salé le plus sucré c'est le plus chouette
On dirait un chausson aux pommes
Langue de velours palais d'amour on la surnomme
Je l'aime
Elle m'aime

Y a le baiser le baiser hurleur inédit
Allongés tout nus sous la pluie
Dans un champ d'orties à minuit
Y a aussi le baiser du ruminant
Le baiser du flic menaçant
La langue chargée jusqu'aux dents
D'un kilo de parmesan
Y a aussi le baiser tricot très difficile et très pervers
Avec les langues nouées papilles à l'endroit papilles à l'envers

Y a le marocain la langue roulée en pois chiche
Un chameau carré sous les miches
Et un p'tit nombril boute-en-train
Pis y a le baiser mystique hypocrite
Les lèvres mouillées d'eau bénite
Les deux langues en croix à genoux
Le seul qui n'ait pas de goût

Et puis y a le baiser d'Zézette
Le plus salé le plus sucré c'est le plus chouette
Pour l'apprécier il faut comprendre
Qu'il est sublime comme une truffe sous la cendre
Je l'aime
Elle m'aime

Y a le baiser le baiser indien que j'aime bien
On s'embrasse trois fois sur le cul
Et on dit coucou tu m'as eu
Y a le baiser japonais qui me plait
On avale un grand bol de lait
On s'embrasse trois fois sur les seins
Et puis on dit plus rien

Et puis y a le baiser d'Zézette
Le plus salé le plus sucré c'est le plus chouette
A côté de sa bouche en flamme
Le Stromboli n'est qu'un p'tit sorbet de réclame
Je l'aime
Elle m'aime

Poisoning little children

2005-08-04T12:07:00.000-04:00

"Having kids, I've had to say things that I never thought I'd have to utter. For example, 'Don't wipe the cheese on your mother.' And 'Do not use the chicken to scratch your foot.'" --Adam

My brother is such a bum. He reminds me of how I used to be back in middle school and high school. Summers roll around and he sleeps in until 11am, and then wastes the day by spending it playing mostly video games. So, me being the annoying sister that I am (I'm sure it must be annoying), whenever I feel that he's slept enough (usually by 9) I go running into his room and jumping on his bed. hahaha!!!! You'd think that he'd kick me or throw a pillow at me at least, but he just starts moaning 'go awaaaaaaaaaaaaay.' haha But I pick on him a lot (because he's a fun guy and I know he can take it), so he made a bunch of chocolate chip cookies the other day, and I was standing there half the time that he was making them. Well I came back later and he was in the kitchen, just sitting, and I go "OOOOOoooooh! Cookies!" And I reach for one in the middle of the table and take a bite and he looks at me and says "How are they?" And I said "They're good!!! Oh, oh wait. You made them? Well... I suppose they're tolerable." Then he brings out a can of whoop ass... HA! Kidding! As if that little weakling could do anything against my other-worldly powers!!! (Actually, if you guys have seen him, he probably could. He's quite a bit taller and heavier than me, and I think he's got a black belt in karate.) Niiiiice kitty. Niiiiice (I pet him on the head). HAHAHA. Kidding. hahahaa But anyway, his newest thing (and his reponse to my comment on his cookies) is: "Shut cho mou(th), foo[l]!" Okay if you can't read that it MEANS--> 'shut your mouth, fool.' but he says it in his little ebonics voice, and it comes out 'Shut cho mou(th) foo!' The parentheses around the 'th' means that it's very lightly pronounced. Anyway, it has me cracking up every time. haha I love my brother.

But anyway, me, being the sweet, sweet sister that I am, I try to better him as a person by getting his butt out of the house at least once a month. I say 'Go outside and play like a nice little boy. Run along now!' haha ...actually no. If I were to say that he would, undoubtedly, respond with, "Shut cho mou(th), foo!" But anyway, I INVITE the boy to the beach, I INVITE him to go get ice cream (who doesn't like ice cream?!??), I INVITE him to go to the park. Do you think he's ever interested? NO!!! He acts like he's doing me a favor by consenting to go (that is when he consents to go). Hmm... But he turns down my offer when I ask him if he wants a cookie or chocolate or ice cream. Perhaps he thinks that I will poison him??? Isadore P! If you are reading this I want no comment from you!

North, South, East, West, in our calm, objective opinion.... New Yooooooork is the beeeeest of the... Fifty, nifty United States of 13 original colonies. Shout 'em, scout 'em, tell all about 'em, one by one (noooooooooooooo! make it stop!!!!) What a god awful song.

My sister pisses me off. Tant que je ne veux MEME pas en parler. But here we go: So this is thA deal, yo. Backround info: I have a friend that I will call Jamun. I met and befriended him last July (a little over a year ago). We hung out a few times amongst friends and by ourselves. I hooked my sister up with him in September and they have been dating since then. Things started getting rocky a few months down the road and they broke it off in March or April, then got back together, now they just broke it off again (about a week ago), and this time apparently for good. Anyway, during their relationship, he remained a friend of mine, and we hung in groups of ppl, as well as by ourselves (he and I met up for lunch or dinner a few times). All is good and well. So I asked him if he could pick me up from the airport two or three weeks ago, and he did. We were going to have lunch together when I flew in, but my flight was cancelled and the next one I could get on wouldn't get me back here until about 11pm. So he and I agreed to reschedule the lunch/dinner for another day. It was originally going to be lunch, but dinner works better for his schedule. I've been busy, he's been busy. Finally, last week, my sister and he break up, and my sister tells me that she doesn't want me to have lunch/dinner with him because "it's just too soon." Now, she knows that we're friends, that we've been friends before she met him. She knows we've had lunch/dinner together before. She's knows we've been planning this lunch/dinner together before they broke up. But now she doesn't want me going, and I think it's dumb. She tries to compare, saying, "Well, what if I had dinner with your bf#2 a week after you guys broke up?" and it's a TOTALLY different situation!!! She met my boyfriend THROUGH me. They've NEVER hung out alone together. And they've had dinner together ONCE, in a GROUP of ppl (it was her, her S.O., me, and my boyfriend) to celebrate my bday. So the reason my bf came was because it was my bday dinner!!!! They've never been friends. They never regularly wrote each other emails. She never would've asked him to pick her up from the airport and vice versa. The relationship between my ex and her was TOTALLY different from the relationship between her ex and me. And she said that no, it's the same thing. And I don't understand why. He is my friend. He's been my friend since before she even knew of his existence. So why can't I hang out with him and have the lunch or dinner that we were planning on having?!?!? It doesn't make sense to me. Obviously, since she's absolutely ADAMANT about not wanting us to have lunch/dinner together I said 'fine'. And so as of now we've put that on hold. But it just puts me in a really bad mood, because I don't understand why. I think it should be my right. He was my friend before he was her boyfriend. So can any of you PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE try to explain this to me, because she said it's obvious and I'm the only one who can't understand, and I really can't understand, so can someone try to... tell me what is going on? It seems ridiculous to me and it just, like I said, puts me in a bad mood. :-/

On a totally different note, having nothing to do with anything, my exbf #4 is so adorable. It's such a shame that he moved. :-( HOUBIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!! Hablo Hablo Habloooooooo!!!! "Don't call me 'Hablo'!" "Well...what do you want me to call you?" "Call me 'honey' or 'sweetie' or 'cheri'. But definitely don't call me 'Hablo'." hahahaa And he was such a spoiled momma's boy. Ah yes, he was unique.

At the Lake

2005-08-01T15:31:00.000-04:00

Well ladies and gents, I do realize that it's been quite a while since I last posted, and that, my dears, is because I haven't been home much!!!! My best friend and her hb came to visit, and it was a blast!!! They arrived Tuesday night, but I didn't end up seeing them until Wednesday night, but from there I pretty much saw them all day Thurs, all day Fri and all day Sat. FUN!!! So, let's walk through the past few days in the eyes of Steph, as I recount the events.

Wednesday--blah, I had to work and that wasn't fun. But after work I drove to their cottage on the lake and got a little lost on my way over. Now the sad part is that I have driven there so many times that I know exactly how to get there, but I thought I'd take a different route that would eventually get there, and it did eventually get there, but 'eventually' is the key word here. It took me wayyyyy too long to arrive. Annnnnyway! I got there, we all chatted, I got bday presents, including a massive lollipop (I love all of the oversized sweets they give me!!!) and a pair of black shoes with sequins all over the top in what I'd like to term as Moroccan style. Or rather, Berber style. Cute. Very cute. In fact, I barely took them off during my time spent there. My feet were cold so I was wearing these thick bed socks that were striped and had Eeyore on the top. So the frumpy, chunky bed socks with the classy, sequined shoes was quite stylin'. ;-) Aaaaanyway, so we played trivial pursuit and I won, of course. Her poor husband, I swear, when it comes to trivia... or any knowledge for that matter he's a little lacking. Poor guy. Then we went to bed.
Thursday--I woke up (ummm...yeah) and met the kidz out on the porch (it's really nice because the cottage is set up on a hill, so we were looking out over the water). We hung out on the dock. Trying to think if we did anything particularly productive... hmmm... no. So then I left to drive into dA cItAy for hardkore fun. I met back up with them a little later. Grilled chicken, corn on the cob, yellow beans and other goodies for dinner. Hmmm...it was that night that we decided we'd build a fire on the beach and make s'mores!!!!!!!! (told ya' I'd get those s'mores!!!) Needless to say, F had no smores and S had one, while I kept piling them in my mouth... three at a time. Gobble gobble....... and the next thing I knew, it was raining graham crackers and all over...sparks...just sparks... and then it all went black. ....Haha... umm...what? So we were singing all of the old songs from back when we were younger. "Miss Suzy had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell, Miss Suzy went to heaven, the steamboat went to Hello operator! Give me number 9, and if you disconnect me I'll kick you from Behind the 'frigerator there was a piece of glass, Miss Suzy fell upon it and broke her little Ask me no more questions, tell me no more lies, the boys are in the bathroom zipping up their Flies are in the city, the bees are in the park, Miss Suzy and her boyfriend are kissing in the D-A-R-K D-A-R-K D-A-R-K dark dark dark!!!!" And then all those other crazy ones. And I mentioned something about a song that there was where there was a baby or something and he ate the soap and he ate the bathtub and all that. Do you guys remember that one? Because we couldn't remember how that one went. Anyway, F, being, well... a few decades older than us (kidding!), I don't think he remembered those songs. Maybe he did but didn't feel like singing them with us, because in the midst of our merry little sugar highs we were acting like complete fools in front of the fire. But at night, in front of the fire, on the beach, with nothing but the waves, the stars and the blackness who really cares? So after poking at the fire with a stick he was holding (no, really), he turned and said "There once was a woman who lived in a shoe. ...And she had so many children that her uterus fell out." We saw a ton of shooting stars that night and it was awesome. It was a really nice night out. We finally turned in...to ...do... what?
Friday--Hung out on the dock, on the porch, headed to a ghetto (g-h-e-t-t-o) beverage store to buy loads (ummmm, loads) of Smirnoff, triple black, green apple, watermelon, black cherry, and a ton of Mike's Hard Lemonade. We got back to the cottage and C and SM arrived in their cute, summery outfits, holding a bottle of vodka and some cranberry and grapefruit juices. We went down to the dock and sat around, chatting. S and I had recounted to C and SM my unfortunate problem with a scary guy (SCARY!!!!). Basically, I went to a grocery store and was chatting with a worker there, and he had mentioned that he was from Yugoslavia, and as I found that interesting, we talked a little about his country, about war, stuff like that. He noticed that I was holding a phone and said "Oooh! Can I see your cell phone?" and I said 'Sure', figuring that he just wanted to take a look to see what kind I had or something. Next thing I know he's calling his cell phone. So he, at this point in time, has my number (caller ID!!), and since then he's been calling me incessantly. I've never once picked up when he's called and I've never once responded to his voice messages. He's left me ridiculous voice messages like "Why aren't you picking up?!?!? Why did you give me your phone number if you're not going to pick up and you're not going to call me back?!?!?!?!?" and I'm thinking 'wtf?!?!?' and then another voice message saying "Hi. I am your boyfriend now. Call me back." I'm like 'AHHHHH SCARY!!!!!!!!!' Because, people, don't forget I've met him once, in a supermarket, and talked to him for all of five or ten minutes!!!!!! How does he even know that I don't have a bf already? So anyway, that was two months ago that he got my phone number, and he's been calling, calling, and he called again on Friday. That's why I brought it up. I'd totally forgotten about it until then. Reality check!!! So C was talking about how she turned her bf into a metrosexual who now files and polishes his nails every time he's over at her house, and SM was talking about how her bf is so dumb and mentally exhausting. SM was cracking me up. She was recounting the time when she dated this guy who was going to school to major in turf management (what?!?). "And he'd say, 'and this weed is a [blah blah blah], and this one is a [blah blah blah]' and he'd say 'and you are going to come to know the names of all of these weeds.' And I was like 'Nooooooo!!!'" and F chimed in "Yeah it's at that point in time when you say 'Yeah, I don't think this is going to work out.'" And SM continued "And he was so short! He was like... up to here on me." (she points to the bottom of her chin) So anyway, I had changed into my swimsuit, because the girls were already in theirs and I figured we'd be going swimming. Wellllllll, they got on little floaty rafts and headed out and I ultimately decided that it was wayyyyyyyy to frickin' cold to be submerged in H2O, so I opted out, got changed back into clothes (pants, shirt and a warm hoodie that I had zipped all the way up and pulled tight around my face). F didn't want to go swimming, either, but because he didn't want to get wet... or something. So they were splashing around in the water, under the sun. F was fishing from the dock and snapping pics while I swung around in the hammock chair, chatting with him and moping about the cold (I'm such a whiner, omg!!!). Finally they came out and we all went for a boat ride. It was niiiiiiiiiiiiice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Relaxing! SM and I were going to fall asleep after getting off the boat. We got pizza, chatted a little longer, then SM and C left (awww), and S and F and I hung out a little longer on the dock. We played cut-throat and I won (of course)... actually no, S won. hahaha Stephy wins! Stephy! And S moped about how I shouldn't be going to work on Sat. morning. Oh yes, I kid you not, she was whining for probably two hours (no, I'm not kidding). She argued that she's called in to work plenty of times for me, she's skipped important classes to hang with me, we rarely ever see each other anymore, she would benefit more from my presence than anyone at my work would, and, finally, I'm just 'too young for constant responsibility!!!!!' She started doing all sorts of crazy stuff, which made me laugh, including offering to eat nasty bugs and smack herself and pull her hair out with tape (where did that tape come from, anyway???). She then started rocking back and forth, humming the tune 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot' and F said "Now look what you've done! You've driven her to hum negro spirituals!" hahahaa. It was at that point in time when I agreed to call in. (They are bad influences!!!!) We went to the supermarket, bought CRAZY amounts of cookies (mine, I looked on the packages and the total weight of cookies that I bought was about 5 pounds) and ice cream. I got these awesome gourmet cookies that taste cookie doughish. One is chocolate chip (tastes like cooked batter....mmMmmMmmMmm), one is oatmeal raisin pecan, and the other is triple chocolate with white chocolate chunks. F bought frosted sugar cookies and we got a carvel roll. Oh yeah, and I bought other mini cookies, but there were too many different kinds that I don't feel like recounting them all in this blog. Except for one. Oh lord. It was this thick, fudgey brownie-ish cookie coated with chocolate and chocolate sprinkles. MOVING ON!
Saturday--Woke up (umm... yeah) Went to a little arts and craftsish place. S got some cute earrings and I bought cherries (oh how I lUv cherries) and an herb-cheese bread made by like... Amish/Mennonite people. We checked out her parents' new living room, (which is amazing!!!) and then we headed back. We went paddle-boating (ooh!!! haven't done that since I was like...12) and then we went for a swim in the lake. The lake... well...it wasn't paralyzingly cold, and many people might have found it quite warm/nice, but I was kinda cold. :-( Anyway, we took little floaty rafts out and were swimming around then we started chucking masses of seaweed at each other (ewww it was so gloriously gross). Afterward we went to eat at a Mennonite restaurant, which had homemade rolls and food (it was awesome food). I didn't like our waitress. I think she didn't like me. She must be racist. (if either S or F is reading this right now they are probably thinking 'what?!?!?') haha. Anyway, the waitress was evil. We got back to the cottage, played cut-throat, S was being hilarious. I don't even know what she was doing but she had me dying. F seemed really unenthused and was apparently tired, so was not joining in on the fUnNnNn. Alas, it was late and was time for me to go (because I wasn't about to call in to work two days in a row), and so we said our goodbyes and I headed out. Windows rolled all the way down, grooving in my car (no, I'm not kidding, I was dancing in my car) to Skank's 'É Uma Partida de Futibol'. Came home.... went to bed.
Sunday--Went to work (it was really busy). My gma was up, but I wasn't around because I was too busy at work to get out early enough to see her. Went home, chatted with Mr. Brush-Off for a while (it's a good thing that he doesn't read my blogs, because I'm not sure he'd appreciate being referred to as such), then headed out to practice vball with my team.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand now, as I've been typing this I've been eating some of the cookies that I bought at the grocery store Friday night (I should not have bought them, and eating at the computer is so bad), and I've eaten so many that I'm really honestly feeling comatose from all the sugar. Oh god I feel sick. Sugar... must...have....sugar. I was talking to S about just injecting sugar into my veins. hahah.... but then there wouldn't be the joy of eating all of these ridiculously good cookies.

Ack!

And... so... OH YES! ...ummm... I'm posting this. Please see next post for continuously updated information. :-D ;-) hahaha

Match Profile--brought to you by popular demand

2005-07-27T13:42:00.000-04:00

Basics

"I like cheese and eggrolls"

I am a:
23 yr old woman

located in:
United States

looking for:
21 to 27-year old man

within

relationships:
No Answer

my ethnicity:
Native American

body type:
Big and beautiful

height:
5’ 1” (155.0 cms)

sense of humor:
Obscure: I’m usually the only one laughing

About me and who I'd like to date

I wanna have someone who can enjoy himself and the fructose of life. I want someone who can truly say that the glass is neither half empty nor half full, but it is completely empty and so is the cognac bottle next to it. I want someone who will participate in hardcore car romping with me. Someone who likes to add a little bit of food to spice it up. Especially if he is adventurous and will occasionally grab for the swiss instead of the usual cheddar. I want him to spice up our romping with a couple of breaks to eat eggrolls, especially dipped in hot mustard. He must like pyjama parties and he must like my children. I want him to be skinny and I want him to wear colored contacts. It is important to me that he also be into hardcore romping, especially if it's romping in my car. And it is necessary that he like alcohol, especially cognac and cognac with cheese is an impeccable combination, especially cheddar cheese. And if he likes Cabot, all the better. But he also must be adventurous and know that every now and then it's okay to eat an eggroll with cognac, too. Especially if the eggroll is with hot mustard, but if he wants to dip it in duck sauce while romping with me in the back of my car then that can be okay from time to time. He needs to be able to form sentences in Tagalog, and if he's from Kathmandu it's a plus. Especially if he's from the Street in Kathmandu. And the Education of Life is important. Because he needs to know how to properly read nutrient labels on the back of a Cabot cheddar cheese package. The more times he's seen Living On Tokyo Time, the better. I want him to role-play with me during the pyjama party and I want to be Mr. Ken and I want to grow on him like a fungus. I also want him to know that it is important to me that he have Indescribable hair. I like it when he is adventurous, especially if sometimes he will dip his cheddar cheese stick in my sweet and tangy, hot mustard in the back of my car.

Appearance

height:
5’ 1” (155.0 cms)

eyes:
Black

hair:
Salt and pepper

hairstyle:
Mullet

body type:
Big and beautiful

body art:
Fanged, Branded, Scarred

best feature:
Hands

Interests

for fun:

I like to have pyjama parties and drink cognac in the back of my car.

favorite hot spots:

When I find my match I will invite him to my house first for a pyjama party and then slowly I will ease him into the ritual of drinking cognac in the back of my car. I like to eat cheese and eggrolls in my car, especially when the stars are out.

favorite things:

I like cheese and eggrolls, but I especially like to eat them in my car. My favorite thing to do it to have a pyjama party and invite a whole bunch of friends over so we can eat cheese and eggrolls and watch Living On Tokyo Time. Eh, Mr. Ken?

last read:

The last thing I read was the Cabot cheddar cheese package nutrient label.

sense of humor:
Obscure: I’m usually the only one laughing

sports and exercise:
Dancing, Other types of exercise

common interests:
Book club/Discussion, Camping, Hobbies and crafts, Movies/Videos, Nightclubs/Dancing

Lifestyle

exercise habits:
Walking to the car is enough for me

daily diet:
Keep it healthy

smoke:
Cigar aficionado

drink:
Regularly

job:
Medical / Dental / Veterinary

Dental floss bikinis

income:
No Answer

my place:
There’s a party every night

have kids:
Not that I know of

want kids:
Don't want to have kids

pets:

I have:
Fleas

I don't have, but like:
No Answer

I don't like:
No Answer

Background/Values

ethnicity:
Native American

I was born in Kathmandu. My tribe belongs to the Incas and we are not extinct even if you think so because you read history books. It's not true. And I am very active in cultural events. I am the High Priestess in my cult.

faith:
Other

I belong to the long lost religion of the Incas. I practice regularly, as I am the High Priestess and am involved in organizing many cultural events. I want to date someone who is religious and likes cheese and eggrolls.

education:
School of life

Dental Floss bikinis helped me. And I lived on the street in Kathmandu for most of my life, so I know what it's like to be without food for a long time, especially cheese and eggrolls. I have traditional education about the Incan religion.

languages:
Hindi, Japanese, Urdu, Tagalog, Other

politics:
Some other viewpoint

About My Date

hair:
Indescribable

eyes:
Colored contacts

height:
3’ 0” (91.0 cms) to 8’ 0” (244.0 cms)

body type:
Slender

languages:
Spanish, Hindi, Japanese, Urdu, Tagalog, Other

ethnicity:
Native American

faith:
Other

education:
PhD / Post Doctoral, School of life

job:
Retired

income:
Any

smoke:
Daily

drink:
Regularly

relationships:
Any

have kids:
Any

want kids:
Not sure

turn-ons:
Tattoos, Body piercings, Long hair, Skinny dipping, Flirting, Thrills, Dancing, Power, Brainiacs, Boldness / Assertiveness, Erotica, Candlelight, Thunderstorms

turn-offs:
Public displays of affection, Money

perfect date:

HotCommanding the dance floor, a sea of sweaty bodies illuminated by strobe lights while we gyrate to pounding rhythms

Dante's Inferno test

2005-07-27T10:37:00.000-04:00

Well, checking Isadore P's blog, I decided to take the Dante's Inferno test (Dr. D. would be so proud....that I took it, though perhaps not so impressed with the results... oops). And this is what I got:

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	High
Level 2 (Lustful)	High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Moderate
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	High
Level 7 (Violent)	High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante's Divine Comedy Inferno Test

So... wow, I scored ridiculously high on like...everything. Abandon faith all ye who enter here. What? Something like that.

But speaking of gluttony, I have passionfruit jelly and oooooohhhhh myyyyy godddddd I wasn't sure if it'd be any good or not, but it definitely is. I'm surprised I only scored 'moderate' on the gluttony part. I guess that's good. S'MORES!!!!!!

Anyway, I told S & F that I'd be there ASAP and I don't have much time because it will take me an hour to drive there and I have to work later today, so by the time I get there I'll have between 1.5-2 hours to hang before I have to leave again. SO! Blogging will have to be put on hold. But guys, take Dante's test and let me know what you get, because I'd be interested in knowing.

No Activity For A

2005-07-26T11:55:00.000-04:00

This one goes to my boy 'A', whose gf doesn't put out. And all I have to say is that I am sorry, and I realize how much that must really suck, but alas, it is your fault that you don't do anything about it. :-P

Yesterday was a reaaaaaaaally long day and I got home late from work and I was tiiiiiiiiired (I have been getting very little sleep lately and I don't know why), so I was in my pyjamas, lounging around, planning on going to bed within the next hour. ...UNTIL..... my boy, A, calls me and says 'Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease, you need to come out with me tonight. Pleeeeeeeease. I'm depressed.' Oh, I reeeeeeeeeally didn't want to, but, it's my duty as a good friend, sooooooo I threw on some clothes and ran out the door to go meet him at his house. He tossed me a helmet and said "Come, we'll take my motorcycle to a café." So I hopped on the back and off we went. Now, as much as I do love my boy, he is crazy, and he is one of those typical boys that I swear, I always wonder what they're thinking!!!! Getting on the highway I found that I had to use quite a bit of effort to hold onto him because it just felt like allllllll the wind was going against me...... until I looked at his speedometer, and that'd be why. He was going 93mph on the on ramp!!!!!!! And you know what, he was telling me about how he and his pals (I swear, I seriously don't know about these boys, where do they get these ideas?!?!?! They're such dumb ideas! They're so dangerous!!!) decided that they would see how fast he could go on his bike down this one road and he for how far they could here him. Soooooo, he was cruising along a 45mph road, going over 140mph (his speedometer only goes to 140, and it was above that so he's not really sure how fast he was going). Until, oops! He sees a cop, and slows down, but obviously not enough. The cop pulls him over. He clocked him at 127 (that's just obnoxious). But the really obnoxious part is that he didn't even get a ticket. Not even a ticket! He should've at least gotten his license taken away from him. But no, he didn't have to suck or bend over to get out of that one. The police are just so corrupt. >:-O grrrrr!

So we went to a café and chatted for a while until it closed, then went somewhere else to chat for a while. We ended the night with a pact that if neither of us are married by the time we're 40 we'll just marry each other (hahaha). So then I finally got home around 3am (quite the day). But it's awesome because we've made these plans to go to the mountains. A, M, K and I will all go to the mountains and stay in A's aunt's cabin. Niiiiice. And we will search out swimming holes that we can jump into from rock cliffs on the side. That will be so much fun. Cannonbaaaaalllllllll!!!!!!!!! Besides, me with 3 gentlemen in a cabin in the mountains for a few days? How wouldn't that be paradise??? hahaha... please. Like they'd be able to handle me. Pfffffff... Kit ng. AHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. KIT NG!!!! No, but seriously, I am kidding. :-P But you guys should see my match.com profile. Everytime I read it tears just streammmmmmmmm down my face because I'm laughing so hard. Everytime. Never fails. So I guess it's good that I can amuse myself. haha I'm contemplating cutting & pasting it in my blog. Perhaps I shall.

Anyway, I'm super excited because hailing from the mountains TODAY are my two FAVORITE PEOPLE IN THE WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (favorite ppl in the world... hmmm not sure if they are my two ultimate favorite, but they are definitely up there.) S & F. And I can't wait because I will hang with them with every free moment that I have. I smell... S'MORES!!!! I'm also smelling a win. Stephy wins....Stephy! Hey, guys, if you are reading this, what do you think about night swimming? Why not? It's been warm lately. I think it'd be fun!!!

Volleyball game today. If we don't win someone's gonna die (hmmm...who's the weakest link? Who, who? and if ANY of you mfs say me I that is automatic death). Really off subject, but I think it'd be cool to learn how to bellydance. I'm serious. That'd be awesome.

Where's my little sister?!?!?? She was supposed to come over today and she's still not here!!!! >:-O But speaking of which, I went to a store and I saw this huge sign made out of metal (for dorm room decoration) and it said "You're not the boss of me!" and I was dying laughing. I should've bought it and hung it up on her door.

Song of the Day: Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen - I am the Cute One.

....hahhaa.. just kidding. But seriously, I dare you guys to download it. You need to hear it. It's the worst song I've ever heard. Sometimes I like to blast it really loud just to torture everyone around me (meanwhile I wear some good earplugs). And if you think I'm sick for having it on my comp in the first place, it is from bf #1. So blame him. He actually downloaded it as a joke. And then he sent it to me. It's sooooooo awful.

ANYWAY, gtg. Sayonara!

Busy

2005-07-25T08:04:00.000-04:00

For those of you wondering why I haven't posted since Friday (and I know some of you are), I've been v. busy this weekend. Friday night I went out with my sister and had some fUUUUUUUUUn and didn't come home until quite late (or quite early Saturday morning), only to turn around and wake up a few hours later for work (yay). And after work I went to my dad's house to watch their dog for the night/morning while they were gone (therefore I spent the night at their house and was not at mine). And then woke up at 6am on Sunday to get some stuff done and go to work.... then had to call and cancel plans to watch a movie with friends because I had to stay wayyyyyy later at work (when my men cannot make it for whatever reason, it is my responsibility to stay later and cover for them or help facilitate things for the ones who do show. By the time I got home it was 9pm and I was realllllllly tired (at that point in time I had been dragging my feet around...blah...blah............ugaugahoakagblah), and so I stayed up for maybe an hour before I just decided that I had to go to bed (because I was exhausted and, again, had to get up really early today/Monday). So as you can see, my weekend has been packed and stacked, 'specially in the back (brothah wanna thank ya mothah for a butt like that).

Totally off subject, I hate when people speak languages that I cannot understand. When I went to visit Alex last week, his grandmother (who speaks no English, though she's been living in the States for....how many decades?), was speaking to him and his dad and kept asking me questions, though not in English, and I was thinking 'okay, you know I don't speak that'. And it really bugs me. So this is why (among other reasons) I've decided that I need to learn to speak every language in the world (or at least every language that has more than 1 million people who speak it). And no, I'm not going to learn crazy dialects. But I guess I really should start learning a slavic language. ...And not having to do with anything, either, on Wednesday I got to sign to some man who came in (and it was awesome!!!). It was the first encounter that I've had with a stranger who was completely Deaf. But we were talking about my major and where I work and what I do and we were talking about his kids and he was talking about how he came here for a golf tournament and stuff. yessss!!!!! And then (I get so ridiculously excited over this stuff), this Frenchman came in because, although he lives in Montpellier, he works for an American company, and I was chatting with him for a while. Actually, I was talking to him about the lack of country patriotism in France. French are not dedicated to their country; they are decicated to their city. And I was telling him about how my friends will say things like "So let me give you some news from my country--this being Marseille, not France." or how they will say "I am Marseillais, not French." or "Let me speak slower for you." "Why, do you think I can't understand French?!?!?" "Oh no, I know you can understand French, but I don't speak with a French accent." "What do you mean you don't speak with a French accent? You are French!!!!" "Ah no, I am Marseillais, and so I speak with a Marseillais accent." hahaha. It's really kind of ridiculous. But he was just saying that the people in France are very proud of their cities and so they identify themselves with their cities, and especially so with the Parisians and the Marseillais, because they have the two BEST soccer teams in France and are constantly dueling (I have a t-shirt that was bought in Marseille and given to me and it says (in French) 'Paris, tonight we are going to blow you up!'). Ah, sibling rivalry.

Anyway, I love to talk to people who aren't from my country (especially if it's in their language, because it's so much more exciting). At times I feel kind of like I am betraying my fellow Americans when I tell jokes like "What do you call someone who speaks two languages? Bilingual. What do you call someone who speaks three languages? Trilingual. What do you call someone who speaks one language? American!!!!" and at that, every time I tell that joke, I really do laugh. It's mean. So don't get me wrong, I do love my fellow Americans, although I'm not sure how much I can identify myself with most. But anyway, must...acquire....more.....languages...........ahhhhhhh!!!!! And what's super exciting, is that this woman came here from China and is staying here for a couple of months to visit her daughter. Well she doesn't speak any English, but we know her, so we will be hanging with her and her daughter and I will have the opportunity to speak mandarin with her (because my parents don't speak mandarin), and I think that will be CRAZY fun, because the last time that I spoke mandarin was to a businessman and businesswoman from Hong Kong, 2.5 years ago!!!! ack.

Les Marseillaiiiiiiissss.... levent les braaaaaasssss! Les Marseillaiiiiiisssssss... sont toujours làààààààà!!!!!! (French rap, btw, is AWFUL!)

Oh yes, and so, I see that, DESPITE my request, many of you have not commented on my last post, and so for those of you who haven't, then DO, because it's not exactly a forum if I get one response. But to the one person who did give me feedback: I must say that your choice of name is quite creative and it definitely had me laughing. And yet, I think it's even better, because although probably many people who read my posts know both you and me, I don't think that they would know who you are based on the name that you chose. So you remain anonymous to most, but not to me. Creative. Quite creative. I wonder if the shoe were on the other foot and I were to post in your blog (do you have one???), if I would've thought of a name as witty and creative as that. Not sure. In any case, in your comment I believe you raise a very valid point, and you could very well be correct in your analysis of what is going on. Thanks for your feedback and continue to feel free to interject your opinion.

Off subject, and still kind of ON subject, I think men who are in their... mid to late fifties (is that it?) can still be attractive!!!! Generally, I have NO attraction to men who have more than a 5 or 10 year difference from me, but I have to say that Mr. Perez has charm. Indeed, he is very unique. I guess it's too bad that there aren't more men like him in the world. If there were we all know that my little sister definitely would've been married by now... hahaa.... ewwwwww.

gooooood.......goooooood......... (Jamun, are you reading this???)

Also randomly, I was just thinking about how I do enjoy wearing heels (I do), and I was thinking that... with my ridiculous height, and with adding 3 inches or something, I just REALLY tower over people. Ideally, I'd like to say that I will never again date someone who is shorter than me, but 50% of my boyfriends were shorter than me (and 50% weighed less than me). So, I mean, talk about giving me some sort of complex. I'm not kidding!!!! How is that when I'm the one giving my boyfriend piggy back rides and toting him around like a child? haha... actually I don't mind it. But I do think that... maybe there should be a line somewhere, ya know? Maybe I should say that if you are more than 4" shorter than me and weigh more than 30 lbs. less than me that I will not date you. But is that evil? I'm not one to stress over appearance, but at the same time, come on now. But why do I feel like I need someone at least close to my size? Because it's normal? Because men are supposed to be taller and weigh more than women??? I dunno. I think that if I'm already 4" taller than my boyfriend and if I wear 3" heels that makes me more than half of a FOOT taller than him... and it just feels awkward to me. I think these feelings are wrong. I hate the idea of discriminating against someone who can do nothing about his situation. He was born that height, so it's not his fault. So it's wrong of me to draw the line there.... or anywhere. And, not to go back to Mr. Brush-Off, but, I feel like some injustice has been done that I am being discriminated against for my nationality, because I was born in this country whether I would have liked to be or not. And I don't think it's fair to refuse to date me because of where I was born. Now, measures could be taken to make me less American and so ultimately erasing the thickness of the line between me and people of other nationalities, but.... And so I can understand him. Discrimination against someone for their nationality is wrong, but it's just as wrong to discriminate against someone for their height. Because both situations are something that the person cannot control. And so one must ask oneself, is it fair? I feel like I have valid reasons not to want to date someone drastically shorter than me. Likewise, Mr. Brush-Off feels like he has very valid reasons not to want to date someone who is not of his nationality. But is what we want right? I mean, I guess we can want what we want and draw the line wherever we choose to draw it, setting whatever standards and expectations that we choose to set. We do have the option of doing that. I think that I would like to say that I generally look more favorably on guys who are taller than guys who are shorter. While I will not rule guys who are shorter out, I think I have a tendency to want to date taller men. There are exceptions to every rule. And now I just feel sick to my stomach, because I feel now that I understand Mr. Brush-Off all too well. He will make an exception for someone who is, for example, American, but she just must be extraordinary. Whereas, if she is from his country, whether it's fair or not, she already has an advantage, and she doesn't have to be as special. And is it fair? Well... not really. But at the same time... kind of. Ugh. Take me back to bed.

(Off subject, who would've guessed that I ate craaaaaaazy amounts of sugar this morning? It kind of startles me to think of how calm I am right now. Because seriously, you cannot imagine how much sugar I've eaten. And usually when I eat a lot of sugar I get really happy and bouncy and energetic and crazy. Come on Sugar, baby, work some magic fo' daddy.) HAHAHA... oh lord. But with sugar, it's like there's a party in my mouth and everyone's invited. hahaha....

So... do you like... stuff? ;-)

Well hello, Mr. Brush Off! Welcome back to earth!

2005-07-22T15:53:00.000-04:00

Well well well, it looks like Mr. Brush-Off finally decided to IM me (because you all do realize that I wouldn't have IMed him, considering how I had already IMed, texted, and called him 100 times to no avail). Yes, yes, I was interested in hearing what he had to say this time. The conversation went as follows:

MrBrushOff: Hey
me: hi
me: what happened to you? i thought you fell off the face of the earth or something
MrBrushOff: I did
MrBrushOff: I am climbing back as we speak
me: hahhaa (what? I had to laugh. It was clever!)
me: and so, if you don't mind me asking (and you knew i would sometime) why didn't you ever call me back or message me back?
MrBrushOff: Because I wasnt with my phone
me: and the IMs?
me: you weren't with your computer, either, even though you kept changing your status to absent/on line?
MrBrushOff: No
MrBrushOff: My computer was with my sister
me: and she kept changing your msn status?
me: ok well whatever
MrBrushOff: Yes she changes it
MrBrushOff: Its automatic
me: what?!?!?!? how is it automatic?
MrBrushOff: The away Status!?
MrBrushOff: It's automatic
MrBrushOff: after 10 mins I think
me: on MSN??
MrBrushOff: it changes to away
me: I'm not talking about AIM
MrBrushOff: Yes
me: whaaaaaat
MrBrushOff: Yah
me: um... ok
me: but did you not remember that you were going to let me know about monday?
me: ...probably not.
MrBrushOff: Sorry! I wasnt there
me: you weren't where???
me: i tried getting a hold of you through phone, text messages and IMing from Friday-Monday. You somehow didn't have access to your phone or the computer at all for those days?
MrBrushOff: Nono I left to [his new city of residence] on Monday
MrBrushOff: My mom and my sister came on thursday
MrBrushOff: they brought my phone then
MrBrushOff: I am sorry because I could have called you then but I didnt
me: you know, if you were anyone else i just would've stopped talking to you long ago
MrBrushOff: I would have too
MrBrushOff: See but thats why you are great (cough cough)

The Monday that he is talking about, when he left, is the last day that I tried contacting him, if you'll remember. I tried contacting him that whole weekend just before Monday, when he left, so something is just not making sense. He was at his house Sat and Sun and so where was his phone? And he didn't use his computer at all during that time to see that I'd IMed him 100,000,000 times???

Anyway, I think we should start a forum here. I'm serious. Post your comments and let me know what you think. It sounds really sketchy to me, and I'm wondering if I'm the only one, so I'd like to know what you guys all think. If you want to post anonymousy (for whatever reason) that is fine, too. But I want to have a discussion here.

My mom never believes me... and it's funny

2005-07-21T16:33:00.000-04:00

I am eating Pop Rocks right now. But I'm not drinking a carbonated beverage (see that, guys?) because I don't want my head to explode. ...haha umm... ahem.

So my mom... I think she feels a need to constantly be involved in my love life and when I tell her that my love life is non-existant she never believes me. She thinks that I just don't want to tell her what's going on because I feel like it's none of her business, but really, why do I care? If I were dating someone I'd tell her or she'd find out about it sooner or later.

So somehow the subject of my past boyfriends came up, and it also somehow came up that the break-ups were always on my end, and so my mom said "Now, why is that? Why do you think you keep breaking up with your boyfriends?" and I said, "Well, they were all for different reasons." And as I began to explain what drove me to each break-up she interrupted to say, "Have you ever thought that maybe you like girls?" "What?!?!? No!!!" "Well maybe you just don't realize at this point in time that you like girls." "No! Mom! My break-ups were all for valid reasons!" "So?" "Mom, the thought of doing anything with another girl, quite frankly, disgusts me." "Okay, okay." And so she dropped it.

And so, there are two ways to get to my house from where I come. Review the provided drawing. Okay so, normally I go the shorter route to get home, but lately I've been deciding to go the other way for a change of scenery (it's longer by a half of a mile at the most). So my mom, I swear to god, exacly when she thinks I'll be coming home she waits by the window. hahaha... I don't know, but it's the only explanation for it.

So the past couple of times I'd come home, regardless of the time of night, she would be up and she would meet me at the door to say "Ohhhhh, well now why did you come the other way? Hmmm? Why'd you come the other direction?" "For variety." "You're a liar. Who are you seeing?" "What???" "You're seeing a new guy, aren't you?" "Um, no, I'm not." "Fine." Issue drops. A week later I decide to CHANGE it up again (I drive the shorter way 10 times a week, it gets old after a while, okay?), and I take the longer way. My mom meets me at the door as soon as I walk in and take off my shoes. "Okay, now that's TWICE that you've come from that direction!!! I know you're seeing someone." "Mom, seriously, what the heck???" Blah blah blah. And then today, it's nice and sunny out and it's warm and my windows are down and I'm listening to good music, so why not go the more scenic, longer route? (Keep in mind, I haven't gone the longer route in two or three weeks now.) Sooooooo I came from the longer direction and as soon as I walk in, "So how's Tom?" "Tom?!?!?" "Yeah, you can't fool me. I saw you come from the other direction." I just start laughing. "Mom, TOM?!?!?" and she said "Oh yeah. Look at you, in your new pannnnts and your haiiiiir...." "Mom, these pants are at least a year old, okay? And I wear my hair like this all the time." "Whatever. It's written all over your face." "What?!?!?" "I know you're seeing Tom." "Mom, are you talking about that guy that I work with who is in his late forties and has a son?!?!?!" "Yeah! He lives out that direction, doesn't he?" I just start laughing and walk away, because seriously, what's the point in arguing with her? She doesn't believe me!!!! She's so ridiculous.

Ah la la. Mom, mom, mom. If she weren't this freaky and annoying then she wouldn't be my mom, would she? I know she won't let it drop. Maybe I should start driving the longer way every day. hahahhaaha But seriously, she never believes me about anything. I think her life is so boring, that she WISHES it'd somehow be spiced up so she's trying to make a soap opera out of it. She probably wishes I had multiple boyfriends, got horrible grades in school, never showed up to work and did a bunch of drugs all the time just so that it would make things a little more interesting.

When I graduated I told her that I had just received a 3.7 GPA for the last quarter and she did NOT believe me. What, serious? Does she really think I'm that bad of a student??? She said "There's no way you got a 3.7. " "Ummm... I did." "Yeah, whatever." So I think that if I were to tell her that I was seeing Tom and Joe and Steve and John and Travis and blah blah blah and that I was shooting up heroine in my room and getting 1.4 GPAs she'd actually believe me. Maybe. I think, actually, if it were reasonable she would. Seriously, if I said I was dating 3 guys and I was doing a lighter drug and my grades were like a 2.3 or something then she would believe me. And really, that's sad. I think she just can't deal with the reality of the fact that I'm a genuinely boring person. hahhahaaa!!!!

My brother

2005-07-21T13:04:00.000-04:00

Family Dinner Night:

(A had barely touched his potato/ham casserole but ate his bread and beans.)

My Mom - A, what is wrong with your potatoes? I didn't put any cheese in them.
A - *pauses* ... I'm saaaaaavoring them muth-er...

Then we were sitting at the table, just the two of us, with crackers, homemade black raspberry jam, honey and cream cheese:

A - Now, see, it takes a true master to know how to spread the cream cheese on the cracker correctly. *he focuses intensely on the cracker in his hand* You have to cup the edges of the cracker and you have to put your pinkie in the middle on the bottom for support. Support is important, because if you don't support the cracker with your pinkie then it will break in half. So you spread the cream cheese on, making sure to get it on the whole face of the cracker. It is also important that it is on evenly. Now, don't put cream cheese on the rim, because that, well, there's just no style in that. And once you've finished, you've made a proper cream cheese cracker! *he tolds up his cracker towards me, triumphantly*

At Another Family Dinner Night:

(My mom poured A a glass of soymilk, and S seemed to think that it was a good idea, but didn't want to get up to get her own, so "borrowed" his glass.)

A: Okay, is everyone done with the community soymilk?
me: I haven't had any yet.
A: Oh sure. Well S has.
S: No I haven't.
(S picks up cup and takes five more sips)
A: See?
(S giggles and rolls eyes upward in a fashion of feigning innocence)
Mom (to S): Oh, just keep it. I'll pour another glass.
S: Good. So he can have this one then.
A: No!! You have that one!
M (also in response to S): No, he hasn't even had a sip out of that one yet.
S: Who said I have?

A - I smoke in church! *pauses* Hey, do you think I'd get kicked out if I sat in the back and lit up a cigarette during the church service?

A - Mom, I can't find the crack. Where's the crack? I need my crack!
Mom - A! Don't talk like that!!!!

A - Come on, let's just pretend that I'm murdering you.
me - What?!?!? No!!!!

Olhos Fechados

2005-07-20T13:42:00.000-04:00

So...every now and then I think about things in the past that I feel really guilty about. And I try to get over them and move on, but every once in a while the memories of what happened will come back to haunt me.

Recently I've been thinking about my cousin's suicide. I wonder if anyone else ever thinks about it. It happened, what, two years ago? Did people cry, attend the funeral and then forget about it? I'm sure his immediate family still thinks about it. How can you continue to live your life when someone who played such a prominent role in it is no longer around? I think that if my son commited suicide, as much as I might try to put it behind me, it would always be on my mind.

And I still wonder why he did it. What drove him to that point? What made him feel so alone? What made him feel like there was no other alternative to escape whatever was dragging him down? And as much as he and I weren't really close, we did spend our summers together since who even knows how old. But we grew older and became wrapped up in our lives. Busy. Did we forget our family or were we just too preoccupied, trying to survive our own challenges of life? But wasn't it partially my fault? Wasn't it partially everyone's fault that he did it? Why weren't we there for him when he needed us? And how could we all have been so blind not to have seen it coming? Why did he feel like he couldn't talk to us? To me? Why was it that he felt that we couldn't help him through whatever he was dealing with?

I feel sick with remorse. Not only is it a wasted life, but it is a wasted life of someone who I truly considered family. He wasn't just a blood relative that I've met once or twice in my life. He played a role in my life and in the development of who I am today, though that role might have been small. ...And I will never see his face again. Except for in my memories and in photos. Photos of the awesome family triangle they did. :-D That was the coolest thing ever. ...But he's no longer here. It's as if his face has been whited out of the photo.

Loss, of any kind, is difficult to deal with whether it's a break-up, a death, an opportunity, etc. And am I the only one who feels like something is missing? Don't get me wrong, these feelings of loss are not constantly preying upon me, but every now and then there surfaces this nagging feeling. It's like a little subconscious reminder or something. Someone tugging on my shirt and whispering in my ear "Don't forget him. Don't forget what happened."

So, it is said "It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." and I'm wondering how much I agree with this statement. Do I want to feel the love and the pain associated with it or would I prefer not to be exposed to these feelings at all? ...I guess I think I would choose the former, because as difficult as it might be to deal with certain emotions and feelings, I think that it is essential to living life, and I don't want to live my life being numb to everyone and everything.

Some feelings aren't always terrific, but I guess what doesn't kill me will develop me and help me grow stronger. Blah. In any case, for what it's worth, I hope that he will know and that his family will know that at least for me, he will not be forgotten.

For my little sister

2005-07-19T20:25:00.000-04:00

This one I've decided is going to be dedicated to my little sister, for various reasons that I will discuss below. First off, this has nothing to do with anything, but I got this idea to dip cucumbers in mustard yesterday, and I tried it and actually it's quite delicious (you guys think I'm a freak, don't you?), so that's what I'm munching on now. But today I couldn't decide which mustard I wanted so I am dipping them in french's, spicey stone ground and horseradish. And on another random, off subject note, I love the smell of cut grass. I'm just saying that because my window is open andddddddd the grass is being cut outside and the wind is coming in and I'm smelling it. Delightful. hahahaha

So, my little sister. I do love my little sister. In fact, I have just this big ball of affection for her (hahaha, what??). Now, when we were all little, I will admit that my older sister and I were cruel to her (indeed, we were Satan's minions), and growing up we came from two different worlds. Shel was a rebel. She didn't do all that well academically and she was constantly fighting against authority and conformity. Me, well, I was the "yes, whatever you want" girl who sat quietly and got straight 'A's. She was loud and boisterous, she hung with a shady crowd: I was a shy recluse, hanging out with the one or two good friends that I had.

Ah yes, I recall some of her better times. We were in San Francisco, trying to decide where to eat for dinner and my parents, my older sister and I had decided on a restaurant that my little sister didn't want to go to. We told her that she had to come to the restaurant because majority wins and the four of us wanted to go versus...her, who didn't want to. She yelled "I don't have to go! You're not the boss of me!!!" and she started to storm off when my dad yelled back at her, "What do you mean I'm not the boss of you! I'm your father!"

Ahhhh yes, and then there was the time when she'd just finished high school and decided she hated it here and she hated everyone and everything. She basically said "F*ck you all! I hate this hellhole! I'm moving to Chicago!!!" whoaaaaaa talk about burning bridges. And man, oh man, was my mom upset.

Yes, she certainly had her moments. And one might say that she was QUITE the handful. She did end up moving to Chicago right after high school, and after not even a year of being there she had decided that she hated it and wanted to come home. I think Chicago had changed her and I think she grew up a lot during the time she spent living on her own. She came back as her same, talkative self. But now, we could sense maturity where there wasn't any before, and ....*hold your seats ladies and gentlemen!* she wasn't crabby all the time!!!!! Don't get me wrong, she's still very moody, but if she were not moody she wouldn't be who she is. Her overall disposition had changed. She was happier and she just started to shine. She's always been a social butterfly, and so she still had a ton of friends, but now they weren't shady characters. When she came back she started school in the fall at the same college I was going to. She was even in the same department. And the kids that I'd been having classes with for years and never talked to were chatting her up at every moment possible. I'd come out of class and she'd have a GROUP of people surrounding her. These people I knew of, but never took the chance to get to know. And then I realized 'Well, if she's talking to them then they can't be all that bad.' And it was at that point in time when I went from the shy loner I was to being just as talkative as she was.

I started to socialize quite a bit. I'd done a complete 180. Her best friend (a guy with whom I graduated high school) made a comment to her saying something like 'This is not the same girl I went to high school with.' And it's true. I am not the same person. I am as extroverted as they come now and have quite the group of friends, and this change is 95% credited to my little sister. She had opened my eyes and she had made the effort to try to change me and include me and show me that people are people. She accounts heavily for who I am today.

Plus, I have to love her because she's just as crazy and spontaneous as I am. And it's difficult sometimes because sometimes I will just get this crazy idea to do something so out of the blue and no one will want to do it with me, but I will call her up and she will be just as enthused about it as I am. "Hey, wanna go to Canada?" "When?" "Now!" "....Okay! Let's go!" If we go to a party or a club and no one is dancing she will go out to the middle of the floor with me to shake booty (how many other people would?). She is daring. She has little qualms about doing things that aren't 100% ordinary. She doesn't really care so much about what people think. She doesn't let stuff hold her back. She is someone I know I can count on to do something with me when I know most others probably wouldn't be interested.

And above all, she is 100% supportive of me. And no, not everyone is supportive of me all the time. When the rest of my family will criticize something I am doing or a decision I have made she will back me up and tell me to nevermind them and just go for it. She is liberal and open-minded. And I think she is the way she is because, unlike most other people, she can thoroughly relate to me. The times I felt so alone, when everyone had turned their back on me had greatly effected me. And she, too, had been in the same situation. Yes, there were times when everyone had turned their backs on her. We fought through some of the same bitter wars that few others had ever imagined fighting through. I think she knows the value of support, because she knows exactly what it's like not to have any.

She is a great friend. She is someone who I know will always be there for me. There is no doubt in my mind. Because there is little that I could do or that she could do that would change the relationship we have. I love her regardless of what faults she may have, and she loves and accepts me for mine. I know that she will continue to be the same chatty, bubbly girl I know, and I only hope that some day I will be able to touch her life in the same way she has touched mine.

Taking this back up again!!!!

2005-07-19T01:26:00.000-04:00

So I've decided to do this again, just because I've been thinking about a lot of things lately and they're interesting things to ponder. Plus, I dunno...why not? But!!! I've deleted my old blogs (thank god, because reading some of them there were some things that I did NOT want certain people reading).

So this past week has been VERY eventful!!! I saw Alex and I also saw his dad for the first time in 4 years. I haaaaaate seeing his dad because whenever we meet up with his dad Alex automatically stops talking and then the conversation is left between just his dad and me, and it's uncomfortable because he asks me all of these questions, some of which are personal. And he's so critical and judgmental and I swear to god he never has anything nice to say. It went...okay. As expected, at least. But overall, I had a BLAST. I did some crazy things that I'd just never done there before.

Wednesday we went to the beach and did other stuff in the evening. Thursday we went kayaking, but since it was raining (blah), I didn't want to get my clothes wet, so I went kayaking in my bikini. Well Alex wanted to kayak in all of these obscure obscure places to get to weird crack formations in the water and stuff. We got there and walked around in the water to get to the crack, but almost immediately turned around because the mosquitos were out. I start to run back to my kayak and paddle like a madman and as Alex is running behind me I say "I have a slight allergic..." and he cuts me off to say "Clearly! Your back is all messed up!!!! Let's get the hell out of here!!!" So we paddle away and cross some alligators. But they weren't that big. I was all but eaten alive and had welts all over my body (remember, I was minimally dressed). We get back to his place and after I wash the 2" thick layer of sunblock off of my body we head off to the Pier, where people were salsaing the night away. Alex doesn't know how to salsa so I suggested that we head up to the top for some drinks. He got a draft beer and dared me to get a super girly drink, so I got a mango-banana frozen daiquiri (and actually, it was awesome). We walked to the end and looked out over the water and the city lights and it was really just absolutely beautiful. I said that it reminded me of the Arc de Triomphe and he agreed. Friday we went to these botanical gardens controlled by the city. They had crazy fruit trees and plants and stuff. They also had this whole section of old houses from the 1800s and stuff that we could explore. We got a tour of one. Insane. We went to a winery that makes wines from tropical fruits (it was interesting) and after that we went to Sawgrass to scope out some of the wildlife. Saturday we went to a bunch of ethnic stores and then had lunch with his dad. Lunch was awesome, and quite the experience (I'm talking in terms of the FOOD, not the company), which consisted of farofa, feijoada, guaraná sodas, Brahma, some pumpkin coconut dessert, and other stuff. Afterwards we headed off to a little town that's known for sponges and got caught in a torrential downpour. They had a festival that we went to earlier (before the downpour) and we walked along the beaches. After waiting for a while I said I didn't care about getting wet. So we walked to his car (I was soooooooooaked and thank god I was wearing darker clothes...ahaha). It was like I'd just gotten out of the shower and water was running down my neck from my ponytail. We went to a World of Beers store and, exhausted, called it quits for the day. Sunday his dad hooked us up with free admission to this aweeeeeeeeeeeeesome garden with rare and exotic plants. Crazy, sexy, cool. Finally got home. My boy, Jamun, picked me up (and... honestly, I can't think of anyone I would've rather seen at that point in time). And so concluded my week. Fun.

Complete subject change! What I've been thinking about recently is this: It has been said that people come into your life just long enough to serve a purpose, and when that purpose has been filled they go. And so I've been thinking, you know, graduation is really difficult for me every year because my friends graduate from school and they leave and I know that I will never see them again, or rarely. And they go ALL over the country or the world, and I like them all A LOT, but I can't visit them ALL, and so what ends up happening is that the relationship ends up dying. Last year was really difficult, as I lost some of my core friends (Joe, Chris, Evan, and Jeff, among others). This year I saw my own graduation and the departure of even more friends. You know, for me, it's especially difficult when ex boyfriends leave because I have managed to remain good friends with all of my ex boyfriends (with the exception of one, and the only reason he and I don't talk anymore is due to the intensity of the relationship we had). So my ex boyfriends are good friends of mine with whom I've shared a chunk of my life, even intimately. And there are things that I have done with them (not necessarily sexual) that I haven't done with other people, and so those experiences we have strengthens the bond between us. Well this summer I've had to say goodbye to two of my ex boyfriends (keep in mind, I've only ever had FOUR), and that was very difficult. Let's label my boyfriends 1, 2, 3 and 4 in the order of which I dated them. The two that left were boyfriends 3 and 4.

Boyfriend #3... he is a friend and saying goodbye to him sucked because it was nice to hang with him every once in a while. Of all of my boyfriends he was the one that I had the least emotion for, and my relationship with him was the shortest of the four. He and I are such different, different people and looking back on it I don't know how I dated him in the first place. I like variety and I like people who will disagree with me and challenge my beliefs and point of view. He was a good sport and he was okay with the fact that he and I held polar opposite viewpoints. I could have intelligent and interesting conversations with him. But what it really came down to was that what we believe is not just what we believe. What side we lean towards politically or what morals or ethics we have affect us as people. They affect the way that we behave, not just the way that we think. And while I could respect him for his views and he could respect me for mine, what it ultimately came down to was that we just had nothing in common (even hobbies and the sort). There was nothing to hold us together. And while we could respect each other, we couldn't really relate to each other and no real emotional bond was formed.

Boyfriend #4... The first foreign boyfriend I've ever had. At times there was a bit of a language barrier because he spoke English with such a thick accent at times, that, after having asked him to repeat himself 3 or 4 times he would get frustrated and say "What the fuck! Why don't you understand me? I'm speaking English!!!!" and to that, I'd chuckle and say, "Honey, that is not English.", which would frustrate him even more. hahahaa He was so adorable, though. And really, his English was not that bad. For the most part his vocabulary was excellent. His accent was thick, but hey, when I tried to speak his language he'd rip on me so badly I was just cabernet sauvignon red with embarassment. But despite the fact that we came from different continents, we really had a lot in common. And man, oh man, did I learn about many things after having dated him.

So, I was thinking that if this statement holds true, if people leave your life once their purpose of having entered it in the first place has been filled, what is it that these two gentlemen have filled? What have they offered? How have they helped me or how have they changed my life?

Well with #3 I've realized that as much as I do enjoy different points of view and stuff, I know that I can't date the polar opposite of myself, because our views affect our attitude and our behavior and ultimately we just will not be compatible. Aside from that, he has taught me a) That perhaps some of the stereotypes that we have for people in the bible belt are warranted to an extent. ;-) b) To open up. Not that I was some crazy shy girl before him, but he definitely contributed to turning me into a social butterfly. c) He's helped me to see that people with his points of view are not necessarily dumb or bad people, as much as they are just people with somehow different points of view (trust me, this is important). d) He is what gave me the real appreciation and interest in ...uh... stuff. ;-)

With #4 I have learned that a) Wow... some cultures are REALLLLLLLLLLY different, but he has helped me understand his culture and see it from his point of view and give me a new appreciation for it. b) He has shown me that, despite the large cultural differences, a relationship can still work. Ultimately we have the same interests, the same sense of humor, the same feelings and the same emotions. c) He has taught me about his religion (which I knew little about before) and I have learned that, regardless of religion, respect and tolerance is easy and a relationship with two people of different religions can work. d) Culture SHOCK. He moved really quickly. After the second "date" (or time we'd ever been out to actually talk to each other) I was, according to him, his girlfriend. He was very, very, very affectionate. Really almost too much so. In the beginning I felt overwhelmed and smothered. He called me every day, sometimes multiple times a day. He'd text message me some of the cheesiest stuff ever (I can't recall the exact words of his first text to me, but it was something like 'When I asked god for a river he gave me an ocean, when I asked god for a tree he gave me a forest, and when I asked god for love he gave me you.'). And when I talk about moving fast, I'd probably talked to him four times at that point in time. He wanted to be with me all of the time, and very shortly into our relationship I just felt like I was drowning. But he's helped to give me a different outlook on life, on people and on the world. I said goodbye to him less than one week ago, and I'll admit that when he left to board the plane I did cry. He gave me a long hug and a sweet kiss on the cheek. He said goodbye to me and my goodbye to him was very quiet (I was on the verge of tears). He left and as soon as I turned to go back to my car I could feel the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. I know that he lives half the world away and who really knows if I'll ever see him again. He made some comment like "The next time I see you, you will have kids and a husband. ...No, I can't picture you having a husband. Can you?" --silence-- "Anyway, the next time I see you, you will have a bunch of cute little kids running around and they will be as adorable as you. And your husband, well, I will punch his fuckin' face in." (he had somewhat of a "potty mouth", but with his accent it was hilarious to listen to.)

Then there was this guy. He wasn't a boyfriend of mine, but we had some weiiiiiird relationship that continued over the period of over a year. I met him in a class of mine at school, we hung out one night with a group of his friends, hung out alone a few times after that. It was a weird situation. I think there was a romantic interest on both parts, and then I hadn't heard from him in a week or two, only to be confronted, one day, by a flood of emails from him following an email that I received from his ex gf. Apparently he had gotten back together with his gf who then didn't like me, and so for the summer we didn't really talk at all. And then school started back up in the fall and I ran into him and said 'hello' and he sounded enthusiastic and happy when he said "Heyyyyyyy!!! I haven't seen you in so long! I've missed you!" (um, what?) His reaction I think caught me totally off guard, because I was expecting him to be more appropriately cold. I suggested hanging and he said that his car wasn't working or something and so he couldn't. (ummm....) And then we talked a few times (literally, just like... two or three times) over the stretch of the next few months. He was having difficulties with his gf. We talked about hanging out. Made tentative plans to meet up, I contacted him the day to confirm and he said we were still on. He called me an hour or two before we were supposed to meet up to tell me that, oh, he had to cancel because he had to study. ...... It was at this point in time when my sisters really started to dislike him (I think it was because they knew that I liked him and they felt that he was leading me on and on and on, only to brush to me off). They said I was too good for him and I should stop talking to him, etc, etc. But I didn't. I continued to talk to him. He broke up with his gf in the winter and we talked a little more frequently. He had called me and messaged me and texted me a few times about getting together (but I didn't think he was serious, because he'd blown me off SO many times before, so I kind of brushed it off). Finally in March (after the many times he'd tried to contact me and set up a meeting), I figured he must be serious, so I agreed to meet up with him. We met up a few times. It was weird. We'd hang and then he'd talk to me once maybe and then we'd hang again three weeks later and then I'd talk to him maybe once, and then we'd hang again after three more weeks. I called him and he never returned my phonecalls. He wouldn't respond to my text messages. Finally, a couple of weeks down the road he'd respond to one of my IMs and be enthusiastic and say 'Hey!!!' and act like he'd seen me yesterday and all was good and well. There was romantic interest, if not some sexual tension. One day we talked and he announced to me that he was not interested in me romantically due to my nationality. At this point in time it was particularly difficult for me because I had developed quite the interest in him, and aside from that I had developed some sort of feelings. And how or why the feelings developed I will never know, because there is about every reason in the world for why I shouldn't like him or have feelings for him, but despite that, they were there. I decided that it would be easier to cut off communication with him in order to make recovery easier on me. But go figure that everywhere I went from then on, I ran into him. I went out to the bars and saw him. I went to a school activity and saw him. It seemed like every time I didn't want to see him I did. Finally, graduation came about, and at this point in time I still wasn't talking to him. He passed me in the hall (he all but brushed my arm), but he didn't look at me and I didn't congratulate him on his graduation and I just felt sick to my stomach. Because for whatever reason I had chosen not to talk to him, it did not make it okay to be rude or cold towards him. I IMed him and we chatted. I found out that he was moving (see? THIS is the point of this whole story...well, one of the points. He too was moving). We had some weird, still some sort of weird something going on. Nothing there. But I don't know what. Finally I told him that I'd like to see him before he leaves and moves thousands of miles away. He was kind of 'eh' about it because he'd be busy with getting ready to move and whatnot, but said that he'd let me know if we could meet up for dinner. Well I IMed him, I texted him, I called him (a few times) and got no response. Needless to say, I never did end up meeting up with him. Whether or not I'll talk to him again, who knows.

And I have to ask myself why I bother with him. I cannot read him. I get mixed signals... completely mixed signals all the time. By now my friends and family dislike him and they've never even met him and for some reason (for what reason?!?!???) I still like him. I think that if I think logically I will see that I am wasting my time, and yet there is something that prevents me from forgetting about him and moving on. And it really irritates me that I am this way. I have done some things recently that I'm just ashamed to admit to, and (if I can help it) no one who reads my blogs will ever find out. But let it suffice to say that I think I've just gotten hung up over this. And I think that I am being led on to an extent. Perhaps not purposefully. Maybe he doesn't realize it. Maybe he doesn't really know what exactly he wants. Who knows. But I wonder if part of my difficulty in letting go has to do with this faith that I have in him. You know... I had a dream that I had right around when I was 12 years old and I only remember it because it's been a reoccuring dream, and in this dream I meet this guy. And every time I have this dream (though I haven't had it in a long time), it's almost exactly the same. A replica of the last dream. And this dream has repeated itself over the span of a few years. And this guy, whoever he is, that I meet holds some sort of significance (otherwise why would I have dreamt about him so many times), and in the dreams he's looked exactly the same every time. I remember talking to my mom about it wayyyyyy back. I remember discussing it with my mother's best friend wayyyyy back and we were trying to contemplate the significance of the dream and the significance of the person in the dream. We came to no conclusion. But anyway, this guy that I'm talking about (the one that keeps brushing me off), bears great physical resemblance to the one in my recurring dream (enough that it's really kind of eerie). Is it a coincidence? Yes, perhaps. But when I was 15 I got my palm read on the main street in Toronto. And normally I don't believe in that psychic stuff. I think that it's a total load of crap. But (now hear me out before you dismiss what I am about to say), the stuff that she said to me was DETAILED and very accurate. She talked about my life at the time and she talked about my life in the future. She had said stuff like that I was single, that I had a best friend with auburn hair (it's true! and how common is that?), she had talked about this male friend that I had at the time, it was a weird situation and she described it ("You know a young man who is about a year older than you. He is thin and blond. You have met him only once but you talk to him quite frequently. You write letters to him." blah blah blah...) and seriously, that is detailed and it was accurate. She talked about my academics. She mentioned my studies in Latin (yes, I was studying Latin at the time). And she had mentioned a couple of other things which gave her straaaaaaaaaaaaaaaange credibility. She then mentioned that I would meet the man that I would marry when I am "about 21". She said that I would not know that it was him for a while. She mentioned that we wouldn't really be dating for a while. She described his physical appearance. She mentioned "dark hair and light-colored eyes." "Well, what are we talking about here?" "Very dark hair... and the color of eyes is difficult to tell.... I think they are green, though. But anyway, he is tall.." etc. etc. Now green eyes are not THAT common. Dark hair and green eyes... okay, interesting combo. Whatever. And she proceeded to tell me that I would get married years later to him, have two kids, she discussed my job. Mentioned that I would be going to college (yep, just graduated). Anyway, the only reason I still to this DAY (8 years later) remember exactly what she said is because I know how disturbingly accurate she was about my present life when she was talking about it at the time. The things she has talked about since then have pretty much unfolded exactly as she said they would (interesting). And this guy (the one I've been telling you about. You know, the brush off guy), coincidentally, has dark hair, green eyes, and is quite tall. I met him when I was 21. Interesting. Now, I'm not implying anything. I'm not saying that I necessarily believe anything. I'm just thinking that wow, what a really odd coincidence. My dreams, her predictions. And you know what? I may never talk to this guy again. Who knows. But, it won't stop me from feeling that, even if I never talk to him again, I know that there is something special about him, and I do like him and I think he is a good person despite the fact that by now I probably shouldn't think so. Regardless, it's been amusing to think about. And, I haven't really talked to anyone about it because I am sure that they would just say that it's all a bunch of nonsense. But, I should've stopped talking to him a year ago and somehow, something has kept us hanging on, kept us in touch. Alas, he is far away from me now, and I may never see him or talk to him again. And such is life. And life will continue.

Soooooooooooooooooooooo now that I've written the story of my life (pretty much. Isn't this the longest blog you've ever read???) I will close. I feel like I've been sitting at the computer forever. It's probably been close to that. :-P