Random Ramblings
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Every bloomin month 9/24/04
Oh jesus, I hate PMS. I wish I could just sleep through it, sleep for like 4 days straight. Or at least have those days off & keep myself in a padded sound-proof room with no phone or e-mail. It would be best, for me and everyone else.
If I can make it there 9/20/04
2 weeks without a cigarette. I will succeed this time!
Well... 11 days left in NJ. Hmm. How long have I lived here? Let's see:
1 year with roommate Dylan in Hoboken. 7 years? WOW. Jersey Girl.
Don't you get me wrong 9/13/04
One box is taped up, labeled, ready. And 5 huge garbage bags have gone before it. I'm filling another one now. Cleaning, purging, renewing. Renewing is still scary, even when you're old. Watch out, kids.
You should see how fabulous my curls look today.
Meet me by the river that goes nowhere. 9/12/04
Oh that bonehead question. It shouldn't mean anything, but it comes every year after ye old birthday. Today my mom asked it, and I know I'll get the same question again and again in the coming days. I know it's coming, but I always find having to answer is so disturbing. No matter how much I am on my own path, I still have some ridiculous ideas about what other people think-- maybe when I fear I think the same as they do. Even knowing I shouldn't.
Voila. 9/9/04
oh this is rich.
I am home from work today, to study. And I turn 30 again today. This morning I was forced to hear my next door neighbor having sex with some chick. (Which was a surprise, I thought he was gay. but whatever.)
Then about an hour later, my buzzer rang. Only problem: I was wearing ridiculous attire, my hair tied up in a fuzz-ball, and a dried Mud-Mask on my face... And my intercom is one-way, I couldn't communicate to him to WAIT. LIKE A MAD WOMAN with all speed, I scrubbed all the Mud off my face using the wrong soap, and taking a layer of skin off in the process, missing huge patches of Mud, then ripping off my home-clothes and throwing on the nearest other clothes on my floor: too-tight-jeans and a too-loose-tank-top. I ran down the 3 flights of stairs... getting excited for a suprise... And it was a pizza delivery guy. It took about 30 seconds to figure out that it must be a post-coital food order from the couple next door. Humiliation, people.
A New Age 9/7/04
I just got back from vacation, and now another birthday is looming in 2 days. Luckily I managed to check a few more things off my To Do By Age 30 list. I can still do cart-wheels. I swam in the ocean at midnight under a fullmoon. I ate donuts for breakfast, with fudge as a chaser. Impressive, no?
On this trip I also learned you can never have too much cheese, salt, cake, money, or jesus. so anyway My mom treated me to a manicure at a local (Delaware Shore) salon. The place we went to called itself a "Day Spa" but it looked like a barber shop for women. Nothing about the experience resembled getting a manicure (which I have gotten about 2,000 times). First off, there was not a single Korean in the place. There were no certification diplomas on the wall, and no fans to dry your nails under (?!@?!?). There were only about 20 colors to choose from (meanwhile the manicurist, who was my age and had my name, was proud to show me her "wide selection"). I sat down, and she began the process of removing my old nail color. In general, this process takes about 45 seconds. But she took 5 minutes: She paused after each finger to tell me part of her life. "My mother kicked me out when I was 12." Wipe "So of course I got into drugs and stuff, just so I'd have a place to go." Clip "I was pretty ticked at God for about 11 years, for letting that happen to me." Buff "But then I found Jesus again." Looks at my nails "And I realized... God didn't let me down... The Devil had opened a door and I just walked right into it." Continues to remove polish from already clean nails "I let the Devil lead me for 11 years." Sits back to admire my bare nails "It was right after I found Jesus that I saw The Passion." I actually spoke up here: "Mel Gibson's movie?" then I let her continue. "Yes, The Passion of the Christ. Some people think it's too violent," remembers she is supposed to be doing my nails and picks up an emory board "But I brought my grandson to see it because he's really enjoying sunday school and wanted to learn more. He really loved it." At that point all I could do was The Math in my head trying to figure out how this 30-year-old had a grandchild. I gave up, then I actually asked her to tell me more about The Passion. (I made up a christian excuse for why I hadn't manage to see it yet). She told me all about the characters in the movie, and how revealing the movie was-- how much insight she gained into the lives of the people around Jesus, and Jesus as well. I should not have, but I asked her how much of the film was based on text from the bible (or another text) and how much was creative fiction from Mel Gibson's mind. Of course she had no idea, but took the movie to be the Gospel anyway. As if she really learned the facts thanks to Mel Gibson.
I cannot begin to tell you
Open Letter to George 8/24/04
W.,
You cute Little Shrub. It's nice of you to offer to visit. But in case you haven't read the papers lately, New York city has enough troubles already, and enough security issues and madness lately. Our terrorist alert was raised, maybe you didn't hear. But the last thing we need is a big pack of unwanted politicians having a party right in the middle of our island. We are all supposed to work, eat, and live that week. We don't need all the transportation woes and jammed intersections and slowing of all movement. We don't even like you very much, Georgey. I don't know a single (real) New Yorker that is going to vote for you.
Take your freaks and go meet in Iowa. We're busy.
Looks Like she Ate It 8/23/04
Well, I seem to be mad left and right. In all cases, it's because I have a set of expectations that people aren't meeting. And the rising number of people falling short are making me think my expectations might be the source of my madness.
Well in at least one case, I just didn't know all the info, and now I see wuzzup, and lost the anger. But where do I get off being so righteous lately? Maybe I'm just too perfect? I always do the right thing, so why can't everyone else? Yes, that must be it.
The Hours 8/16/04
I kept all the wrong hours this past weekend. Friday night I slept at my parents' house which is the most uncomfortable place to sleepover on the planet-- I have no doubt that this is not an accident.
Sometimes my head spins like a goddamned top. it's almost like you think it's going to slip away if you don't nail it down with all speed.
Slick your hair, And wear your buckle shoes 8/11/04
Est-ce que tout est au mieux? Est-ce que c'est le meilleur des mondes possibles?
They say life is a three-legged stool, supported by coffee, booze and cigarettes. Always a trinity.
There is a wild thunder & lightening storm, crazy pouring rain outside AND it's gotten cold. Like when I go out in the pouring rain I am going to be miserable, I'll logically desire to get to my destination as FAST as possible--
but the rain itself turns my heeled sandals into slippery death-traps, and the only way to avoid falling is to walk EXTREMELY slowly to keep from sliding out of my shoes all together. Like the rain is saying to me: "I'm not just going to make your 25-minute walk home miserable, I'm going to make it a 50-minute walk of freezing drenched nearly-falling saturated underwear on display hell. Enjoy the final few blocks through your crappy crime-ridden neighborhood." You see? Compound trouble.
8/4/04
So if I had turned a different corner, where would I be sitting right now? Maybe I'd be standing here dead. Maybe I'd be living by a beach. Maybe I'd be fat. or thin. Maybe I'd have a dog. And a bad lower back. Instead of a bad upper back. Maybe I'd be right here.
In these shoes? I don't think so. 8/3/04
It's hot here, I'm sweating my cabayas off. There's a strong wind blowing though. Bits are scattering and gently floating in many directions, near and some very far. At first it seems chaotic, but the breeze cools us, the bits, and soon we're growing anew.
When it rains it pours 7/23/04
10 days, no cigarettes. I know. I know. The 43rd time's the charm.
You know I always shift from one habit to another. Luckily on Monday I'm starting another round of getting ready for a tri. I bet I'll kick much more ass this time, with clean lungs.
Where have all the flowers gone.
Too Many Bags 7/22/04
I haven't had real coffee in so long, maybe in forever, and apparently I don't even know what to do with it.
In starbucks today, I ordered a Very Large Ice Coffee. I was in quite a rush to make it back to my precious cubicle, so I all-too-vigorously slammed a cover onto the cup after milking it.
I stood still, like I had been paused, refusing to accept what had happened. Mentally trying hard-as-hell to turn back the clock. The real coffee I don't know how to handle is Maxwell House. It looks & smells so breathtaking, I just want to leave it perfect and untouched. Then I'll remember it's fucking coffee, the whole point is to taste it, and to pee after. But then when I take a sip, I freak out and dab a napkin all over the mug to try and get it back the way it looked a minute ago, before I indulged myself. In myself.
Another one bites the dust 7/13/04
But my toes feel pretty good.
The Day I Tried To Live 7/9/04
I reached my building ready to drop bags and turn on cool air to recover from the day. The AC let me down, it didn't make a peep. Neither did any other electric device in my home-- the power to the building was out. This seemed "neat" for about 5 minutes, until I realized the sun was going to set and there were no batteries in my flashlight.
I spread out all my old candles around the apartment, vaguely trying to ensure none of them would set any piles of crap ablaze while I was in the shower escaping the 110 degrees of my top-floor apartment. After drying off, I sat down on the couch and felt the silence-- silence of both sight and sound. All my senses taking in the black. Small red flickering. No comfort. Only green voices.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers 6/29/04
Is that what's happening? You look like you, dress like you, sound like you… but your eyes are vacant, and the words coming out of your mouth make no sense. It’s not your words. Jesus it’s almost the extreme opposite. Who is in there? Where did you go? I want to shake you until this weird daze you are in falls off.
Why did you spend those times listing "red flags", trying to be so sure not to let yourself swerve down the wrong path again? Why bother? This path has not just red flags, but giant, flashing, neon signs and sirens howling, and a demonic voice screaming "KEEP OUT" but you stroll in anyway? I worry about what could be so wrong that you are acting like this.
6/22/04
Twice, Three times a Lady.
What the hell does that mean? Does anybody know? Perhaps we are just always fond of any Trinity. Speaking of the power of Three, for the love of god I hope you looked at the new photos from my first Tri. Meanwhile, back at the farm. My foot is still sliced open. Giant gash from getting into or out of the water on Sunday. It's hideous. Pronounced hid-jus.
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shannon@sleckey.com