19 hours, 5 minutes, and 1 phone call

nuff said.

Boris, the ER night nurse

For those of you who remember, I started learning MMA at Jackson's gym last summer. For those of you who don't, well I'm sure you do now. I was only there for about a month and a half but I met some really awesome people (who also happen to be really awesome athletes) and had the best summer of my life. I was so excited about learning this new sport and getting to work with Greg Jackson Julie Kedzie and other professionals. When I left for school I new I would most likely have to put my learning/training on hold until I came back for winter break and that turned out to be the case. Before I left though all of the people I'd met and gotten to know told me to make sure and come back and to have fun in school. Well I got back to NM on Nov. 21 and only today did I finally make it back to Jackson's. 

I don't really know why it took me so long to work up my nerve to go back. I guess I was just afraid that people would expect something different from me now, I dunno. It wasn't anything obviously self conscious, like weight gain (I actually lost five pounds so hah! freshman fifteen) or anything but a fear that I wasn't going to be good enough or that everyone I knew wouldn't be there. The first week I was home I had this dream that I drove down to Jackson's and it was virtually empty. I walked in and Greg came out to say hello. He said he was going to wait a little longer to see if anyone else showed up for class so I pulled out the pair of shoes I'd been customizing and laid down to pain them some more. I was working for a few minutes when Greg and Julie walked back in and said let's start class. I went over to the mats and saw a few other people. Greg said to partner up so I looked at Jules. "I can't," she said. "I blew my knee out." I was in shock. The next thing I know I"m standing in a hallway with Julie and we're talking about her injury. "Ya, I blew my knee out about a month ago and I can't train or fight like I used to." I felt really bad for her. "The thing is," she said, "Now I can focus more on coaching. I've always wanted to coach a fighter and I think you'd be perfect for my first official student." The conversation continued with her telling me that she wanted me to be her protege and that she wanted me to learn as much as possible in order to excel. I woke up a little while later. 

Now, believe me when I say that I hope Julie never suffers a career ending injury but the idea that she would want to train me was awesome. Even after this little confidence-booster of a dream I still couldn't find the nerve to go back. But finally, today I did. I went today and saw DJ and Ryan, the two guys who really helped me when I first started out. I also saw Sam and Jesse, two regulars who I grappled with on occasion. Unfortunately neither Greg nor Julie was there today, so i didn't get to see them but class and yoga were still really good. In class I got partnered up with this old guy named Boris who told me he was a night nurse for one of the ERs. He had a thick (my guess is Russian) accent and a very large stomach. He was super friendly and super nice and when we'd grapple and I'd get out of something he'd say things to John (the pro who taught class today and a really cool guy) like,"This woman, Wow! She do crazy things." Every now and then when he'd try and put me in some sort of arm or shoulder lock and I wouldn't tap (because he wasn't doing it right so it didn't hurt) he would say aloud, "I try and make pain but it no work. Wow! This woman... she's... wow." Anyway, even though it wasn't quite the experience going back that I'd hoped for, Boris made my day. Hopefully I'll get to see Greg and Jules sometime soon but I'm pretty happy gettin to chill with the boys again, even if they are kinda crazy. 

scribble

People tell me I should write. People tell me I should make movies. People tell me I should write music or coach a team or do this or that. What am i supposed to do in response to that? If I deny having any talent they keep insisting I do. If I say maybe I will they expect to see the fruits of my labors. I have something to say about that. I'll do what I want when I want and if I happen to change my mind I expect you to understand and support that decision. What I do with my life is not up to you. Don't get me wrong, I really appreciate getting compliments and everything but sometimes I do things just for me and you are accidentally privy to them. It's these times that I just want to scream and say get out, because it's a side of me that is only for me to see. I wish I could write eloquently all the time and make people cry. I wish I was always full of creativity and inspiration. Sometimes you just need to vent and sometimes you wish that the compliments people gave you were true because if you could just do what you do and be successful everything would be alright.

...check your mirrors

So I haven't written in a while and I feel like I have a bit to write about. If you know what's been going on you know I've been complaining a lot and I apologize for that but let me say this just one more time... I am so pissed about what happened to my computer and my frustration is not going to end any time soon so please, bear with me. A few notes... My website zitrocity.com may look a little different in the next couple days due to the fact that I lost all of the settings and layouts when my hard drive went bad. I'm going to try and re do it as close to the original as possible but some data and files are permanently gone so... with that out of the way here goes the rest. 

I've been rewatching Alias this week and hopefully will get all the way through by the time I have to go back to school but it's brought back some fond memories. Like the "Oh Fuck! That was my favorizzle shizzle!" face made by Khasinou when he gets shot. I wrote a paper about how Alias and Sydney Bristow affected my life but unfortunately that too is now gone. My dog is eyeing me suspiciously from the next cushion over on the couch and her breath stinks! I still think Lena Olin aka Irina Derevko is a badass and she tops my list of villains followed closely by Boris Badenov and Natasha Fatal. 

Oh, so, James Bond is for lack of a better word, a bitch. No, not the one played by daniel craig or sean connery, a different James Bond. I can't really explain it, just that Bond makes my life a living hell every time I turn around. Suffice it to say that should I come face to face with Bond I would happily engage in hand to hand combat in order to kick his ass... and trust me I can. I need to stop now before I ruin my credibility and rep so that's all for now.

Oooh... let's play the song game

Where I write out the lyrics from one of my favorite songs and you get to listen to and read it and then consider how it applies to your life!

Watching me like you never watched no one

Don't tell me that you didn't try and check out my bum
Cause I know that you did
Cause your friend told me that you liked it

Gave me those pearls and I thought they were ugly
Though you try to tell me that you never loved me
I know that you did
'Cause you said it and you wrote it down

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

So I learnt from you
Do do do da do do do do do do da do do do do do do da do do
Do do do da do do do do do do da do do do do do do da do do

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own

Sitting in restaurants
Thought we were so grown up
But I know now that we were not the people
That we turned out to be

Chatting on the phone
Can't take back those hours
But I won't regret
'Cause you can grow flowers
From where dirt used to be

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

So I learnt from you
Do do do da do do do do do do da do do do do do do da do do
Do do do da do do do do do do da do do do do do do da do do

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own
(do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do)

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own
(do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do)

nanananananana!!!!!!

I feel like singing and not for any reason other than I haven't touched a guitar for two months and am used to playing, writing and singing music on a regular basis. I dunno. I'm bored out of my mind. I'm waiting for the main event of UFC 91 to start and all my friends are out and about because they have lives. I know, I can't bitch because it's my choice to watch the fights right? Honestly, I'm pretty sure if I'd gotten a better offer I'd be out doing something. No one offered though. The only thing I even heard about was this dance thing and everybody knows I don't do dances. My woodgrain looks halfway decent now though, that's a plus. I spilled water all over my canvas and almost ruined it earlier but it's all good now. So, I guess there's nothing more to say but that I'm pretty sure I'll never figure you out. I'm so confused. I don't even know. My head hurts. 

can't help but wonder

why nothing ever seems to turn out the way we want it to and when it does it's never as good as we think it will be. 

I lied

I am back. I feel like a part of me that had taken an extended vacation has finally returned to work and I'm beginning to understand things again. I am referring of course to my alter ego. She happens to be a psychologist with  a bottomless pit of knowledge. As I was discussing yesterday, when I am in psychologist mode it is oddly reminiscent of House. Yes, the tv show is what I'm referring to. You know those moments when house is having a somewhat pointless conversation then he just stops stands and leaves the room because he found the answer in something someone else had said? That's what I'm talking about. I find and give answers in much the same way. I can't really explain the whole of  what I'm talking about, you just have to take my word for it that I am on an entirely different level intellectually with this part of me intact. I can't explain how the mind works or why we do the things we do but goddamn it I can be wise sometimes. I should mention the graham crackers but I think it was more of a you had to be there type thing than anything you could laugh at now. Also, just to say it... Teddy Bear. 

I did it again

forgive me because my best thoughts have been expressed in direct verbal forms of communication recently. I think best and write best when I cannot get it out in any other form therefore I am at my writing worst when I am talking and expressing. As I said, forgive me, no one is perfect.

oops...

I almost didn't write at all today but I didn't want to skip since I've been doing so well. I'm just gonna say I'm busy working on a painted rug so all my creative genius is currently targeting that instead of this. That is all.

owwwww...

I am sore. My neck, shoulders and back are full of knots... I even found a knot in my right forearm yesterday. Bottom line is I need a massage and less stress. Knowing I only have 30 hours left of class before I go on break is promising but final projects and exams, not so much. Every day when I wake up and roll over my shoulders crack multiple times and my neck and back tend to pop. I'm like my own percussion section or something. So, ya. I get that this is lame so I'm gonna stop and I'll write something meaningful later!

Maybe...

I have nothing to say. I have nothing to say so I'm going to write about nothing. Nothing obviously is not possible so you already know that by writing about nothing I'm not writing about something. Maybe I just don't feel like writing right now but I can't think of anything else to do. Maybe I need a hug. Maybe I want to go back to sleep. Maybe I want to go home. Maybe I want to sleep in a bed that doesn't hurt my back. Maybe I want to pet my dog. Maybe I want to give you a hug. Maybe I'm stressed. Maybe I'm tired. Maybe I'm hungry. Maybe I'm sick. Maybe I'm confused. Maybe I just want the truth and Maybe I don't. Maybe I don't know what I want. Maybe I'm a jerk. Maybe I'm not. Maybe I beat myself up so other people can't. Maybe I protect myself too much. Maybe I have writer's block. Maybe I'm just making up excuses. Maybe I'm seeing things that don't exist. Maybe I've written all week because I have nothing else to do. Maybe I've written this week just hoping you'll read it. Maybe I'm not the one actually writing this. Maybe I have a doppleganger.  Maybe you shouldn't believe everything you hear. Maybe I shouldn't believe everything I hear. Maybe I should get up. Maybe I should stay here. Maybe I never should have told you. Maybe I should tell you. Maybe I don't know what to do. Maybe I want answers. Maybe they don't exist. Maybe I'm immune. Maybe I'm not. Maybe I need a kick in the face. Maybe I'm ignorant. Maybe I'm too observant. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm just missing something. Maybe I can't see. Maybe I can't hear. Maybe I can't speak. Maybe I don't have anyone to talk to. Maybe no one will listen. Maybe I miss getting phone calls. Maybe I need a new teddy bear. Maybe I can fix the old one. Maybe I eat when I'm stressed. Maybe I do things I regret. Maybe I hate myself. Maybe you hate yourself. Maybe I should just stop. We are all human. We all question everything or at least we should. I drank a soda last night for the first time in five and a half years. I just didn't care. 

Down Time and a little poetry

So in case you haven't noticed I've been posting a lot this week. I write when I have down time and I have had quite a lot recently. It's a way for me to turn laziness into productivity and also sometimes acts as a stress relief activity too. Walking back from my lunch with little dude today I started looking at everyone I passed on the streets and thought how interesting it would be if I knew them all. I have a made the decision to meet someone new everyday. Whether it's someone I pass on the street or in a hallway or maybe at a restaurant or something i plan to introduce myself to at least one stranger per day from now on. I decided a while back that I wanted to give one person a story to tell at dinner everyday and somehow never followed through with that either. In case that needs explaining I wanted a complete stranger to go home and when they are eating dinner with their family say, "Something interesting happened today. I was driving home from work and I saw this girl..." the girl of course being me. So maybe by meeting someone new I will also give them a story to tell as well. I don't know how my vision gets so blurred sometimes. I lose sight of things that I thought were important to me and suddenly I realize I've let myself down and I know that if I let myself down I've let everyone else down too. I really like having the time to write again even it is boring occasionally. I think we all need our down time to stay sane or in my case to keep from getting more insane. I dunno... I really want to throw in some crazy quote that'll make you laugh but it's not that simple. It would have to be perfect and I don't really believe in perfection. I believe in imperfection; that imperfections are what make things and people their absolute best. Now whoever can tell me the name of this poem, who it's by, and what line is my favorite will get... um.... well you'll be totally awesome and amazing!

That which then was ours, my love,
don't ask me for that love again.
The world then was gold, burnished with light --
and only because of you. That's what I had believed.
How could one weep for sorrows other than yours?
How could one have any sorrow but the one you gave?
So what were these protests, these rumors of injustice?
A glimpse of your face was evidence of springtime.
The sky, wherever I looked, was nothing but your eyes.
If You'd fall into my arms, Fate would be helpless.

All this I'd thought, all this I'd believed.
But there were other sorrows, comforts other than love.
The rich had cast their spell on history:
dark centuries had been embroidered on brocades and silks.
Bitter threads began to unravel before me
as I went into alleys and in open markets
saw bodies plastered with ash, bathed in blood.
I saw them sold and bought, again and again.
This too deserves attention. I can't help but look back
when I return from those alleys --what should one do?
And you still are so ravishing --what should I do?
There are other sorrows in this world,
comforts other than love.
Don't ask me, my love, for that love again.

Little Dude!

So today I decided to have lunch in Forsyth Park. I walked over to Parker's got myself a Panini and Naked Green Machine and headed down to Forsyth. I found a bench under a tree where a little bit of sun still came through and unwrapped my sandwich. Not two seconds later I see this cute little squirrel staring at me from across the path. He stands and sniffs the air and then looks at me curiously. I'd look away and he'd hop towards me but when i'd look back he'd freeze where he was. We played this Red light/Green light game for a few minutes before he had come all the way over to my bench. He was very cute and I'm sorry the picture I took didn't turn out better. Anyway, He started circling the bench I was sitting on waiting for me to drop something. I laughed and said, "What little dude? You want some sandwich?" I extended it towards him and he crept a little closer. I told him he couldn't have the whole thing and tore off a piece of bread for him. I dropped on the ground and he hopped over and ate it then stared at me like he was waiting for more. Apparently another squirrel must have seen what happened because suddenly little dude booked it behind me and chased another squirrel away. He then returned and sat at my feet patiently awaiting more food. I gave him a couple more pieces of bread then bid him adieu for the afternoon. I think we'll do lunch again real soon. :)

The way I see it

... having realized the book was not where she'd left it Jenny proceeded into the living room to continue looking. It was not on the coffee table or in the couch or on the floor or on the shelf, but on her desk next to a half empty cup of tea. She picked it up and began reading it once again...

I don't see life how everyone else sees it. I see it as one giant script with characters and a plot and a specific formula for how relationships and certain situations should work. Everything has to have a certain amount of comedy and a certain amount of drama or it's not worth going through. Movies are not life. Books are not life. No form of media is ever even 50% accurate in terms of how it portrays life. My life, however likes to follow the laws of a good plot or so it seems. I don't think the way you think and I don't see things the way you see them; my mind works differently from yours. I see people having fun while I miss out and I automatically assume that what I'm missing out on is far better than it actually is. I don't think anyone except the select few who think the way I do will ever be able to fully understand me. I am a glass half empty person who tends to assume the worst. I am an emotionally restricted person who for one reason or another never cries, especially in front of people. I am not spontaneous though I'd like to be and I'm really bad when it comes to talking about certain things. I am the average person, though I like to admit, a little weird too, and i make all the same mistakes everyone else does. I have eyebrows with minds of their own that are currently set to don't not attack mode  and I need a new teddy bear. Details on that last sentence are reserved for those who care enough to already have an idea of what it means. Basically, what I'm saying is that I am very much my own person and forgive me for this, but there are very few people who will actually ever understand me and who I will actually ever understand. Like I said, I see people as characters and their lives as back stories. I see life as a series of chapters in a book and scenes in a movie. My view of reality is distorted though some may say it is a gift. Next time I see you it may or may not be me. It could be one version of me; a version from an earlier chapter or perhaps a more mature version you have not yet met. I don't know who I channel on a daily basis or what experiences I'm calling upon because i write my script with every step and every word as they come. I can't rewind and I can't fast forward so I just have to let life play and once I finally get to the last scene I'm sure it will be one to remember. 

it starts in my toes...

I can't feel my feet. I can smell them but I can't feel them. That means it was a good run. 

In summation!

You can't even begin to imagine what is going thru my mind right now. So much has gone down in the last few days both on a national and personal level it's absolutely incredible. History was made when Barack Obama beat McCain in the 2008 presidential election and by voting I am forever a part of history. At the same time Proposition 8 was passed in california which is a major setback in terms of civil rights and equality. I saw an amazing demonstration of pride in the courtyard of my dorm when my fellow students and I celebrated obama's victory with cheering dancing and just plain excitement. I am starting a project in my 2-D class that I am absolutely in love with and that I hope will turn out amazing. All I can say is that it is inspired by Rachael Yamagata's Elephants... Teeth Sinking into Heart. I can't wait to really get into it. I'm also a little worried about myself too because I am starting to not care about things that I probably should. Not going to elaborate but bottom line is I think I have to watch myself for a little while or I might make a big booboo. Yes, I just said booboo... deal with it. Also, I can't take it, I can't stand it, I can't deal with it, I can't I Can't I CAN'T.  Ok, off my chest a little but not really so you can deal with that too. I went for a run yesterday; you know, one of those I need to go for a run and since I need to clear my head and it's also raining I am actually going to do it run. So I ran about 2.5 miles yesterday on what is still (unfortunately) a gimp ankle and despite the fact that my back seized up on me towards the end it turned out pretty well. I breathed, I thought, I tried to clear my head and I think I actually felt really good afterwards, even if I felt a bit cold as well. Thank god for Rachael Yamagata by the way. If it weren't for her music I would probably keep everything bottled up inside all the time and never have anyone to relate to or make me feel better about myself. Shit. I'm studying for an Art History test right now too and it's going alright. This is the earliest we've ever finished our flashcards and there aren't too many this time so hopefully everything will go well tomorrow morning. everything. 

You ever tell someone something you wish you could take back? Ya, that'd be me on pretty much a daily basis. But seriously, what if someone didn't know something about you anymore, like you could completely wipe it from their memory and everything else would stay the same. Just wondering because I totally wish I could do that. Seriously... oh and when it comes to fucking up I rock at that. I sent an email to the wrong person this morning, yay me, and as far as texting you in the middle of your bio test goes... dude my bad I had no idea. Right, I've probably fucked some other things up this week too but have been too busy or distracted to notice so just let me know and I'll do what I can to make it right... promise. Ok so I'd better study now for real. More tomorrow or maybe later, who knows.

YES WE CAN!!!!

AND WE DID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All I can say is that Change really is coming and I am so excited to be able to say that I am a part of it!

now tell me how did you slip by

I think that within everyone there is always something we can't bring ourselves to do even though we know we should. For example, I have a friend who keeps going back to a guy who doesn't treat her well and doesn't respect her at all. I've told her not once, but multiple times that she needs to go balls to the wall and let him go but she just can't seem to do it. If you knew how many times I've had to sit with her while she cried I think you'd understand. The reason I bring this up is because  there is something I have to do. I don't want to do it, I need to do it. I have to or I will continue to beat myself up until I am nothing but blood and bones. I have to take a step back and examine everything. I have to look at my relationships with people and evaluate who it is that makes me happy and who is sucking me dry. If you know that you are my family you shouldn't be worried. If you know I'd rather sit in a pit of spiders than speak to you ever again you're probably not so safe. I guess what I mean is that I can't live with what I hope is there because it means I'm living on nothing. I have to take a big spoonful of reality and swallow it with my pride and say, "look, it's true, we've been friends for years but I'm only ever doing things for you. The give and take is non-existent and as far as you are concerned I have nothing left to give." That's the nice way of putting it , by the way. The not so nice way is, well, not so nice. hehe. My one attempt at humor in this bitter piece really isn't that funny. I think we should all stop taking our friends for granted because they are not going to be around for ever, at least, not all of them. Some will be around, that's only natural, but that's because they really are your friends. The truth is, most of us could live without a majority of the people with whom we spend our free time. I've gone off topic again... apologies. I don't know where I'm going anymore actually, I started writing out of anger and trailed into confusion before ending up entirely lost in what appears to be a throbbing headache of stress, dehydration, and a nagging sensation of what the hell did I do to fuck up this time. I suppose the point is I suck at life. I have friends I hate and friends who hate me. My work never seems good enough to me and I can't stand the thought of telling someone that I just can't do it anymore. I know I'll make it out; I know I'll get through it ok, It's just nice to have some guidance sometimes... especially when your guidance might save our friendship.

let me go.

Consider your teeth sunk in

I realize it’s been some time since I’ve given any serious thought to what I put on this page and I feel it is my duty to make this entry a meaningful one. I don’t mean meaningful as in profound or life altering, just meaningful as in something more than a quick note or song or video. The truth of the matter is that tomorrow something amazing will happen: we will have either a Black President in Barack Obama or (I hope to god this doesn’t happen) a female vice president in Sarah Palin. I have nothing against women but everything against someone with less foreign policy experience than my sister. Having done my duty and submitted an absentee ballot already I have taken part in this history making election and hopefully you have done or will do the same.

On a different note… a very different note, I have found that I am once again lost in my own head, contemplating life’s ifs, ands, and buts. Not one time have I escaped from myself alive and I expect this time to be no different so those of you with the ability to reach out and touch me I suggest you either temporarily back away to a safe viewing distance or hold me tight and never let me go because this ride is going to be intense. Perhaps intensifying the situation is the fact that I am rapidly approaching another major transitioning period in which I leave college and go home for a month and a half leaving those with whom I’ve become friends behind. I truly believe you develop stronger bonds when you experience something new together which means that I am more tightly bound to my college friends than I ever could be with my high school buddies… even if I am closer to them. I’ve had certain experiences here that simply cannot be understood by anyone not directly involved in the situation and when I leave and my stressors pile up and I crash no one will understand why. Yes, some of it is left over from before I ever got here ad some of it relates to back home as well but it still will not be the same. It’s like the saying “you can’t step into the same river twice”. With everything new there is something old and something that can never change but as with everything in the future, it will be what we make it. Right now, I’d say my future looks bright and despite the occasional flicker I don’t think it’ll get dark anytime soon. All that being said, I hope your days are as good as mine and that when you come crashing down you have someone to catch you… if you are worried about that then consider my arms your safety net. It’s the least I can do, really. If no one catches me I can at least make sure you don’t land on your face too. Nobody likes to see more than one person bloodied and broken though they’d rather not see anyone hurt at all. And by the way, I love you.

Friendliest Friendliness Required

You ever notice how everyone classifies their friends into friends, best friends, acquaintances, family, lovers whatever etc... well I've noticed that there are even deeper subcategories within those. Seriously, like I've noticed that my best friends are the people that I hang out with and enjoy spending time with the most... obviously; however, I've found that only some of my best friends are the ones that I can cry in front of or flop down next to when I'm tired or feel like shit. This goes back to something I wrote about Aristotle around this time last year regarding his theory on useful friends and relationships versus a true friendship. When it comes down to it I think Aristotle combined with Erich Fromm's The Art of Loving perfectly describe relationships on all levels. That's just me though. But seriously, when you refer to A and B as your best friends you would expect them to be equal in nature, but they aren't. They are equal in the sense that you can talk to A about B and vice a versa, but you can't always go to B for a hug when you need it. You can however be blatantly honest and open with B but not with A. So here's the conundrum... who's the real best friend? Is there a real best friend or will both outlive their usefulness once a true best friend comes along. If I recall correctly (and I most likely don't) Aristotle said something along the lines of a true friendship entails never having to ask for help and never needing to suggest getting it. Everything is understood and the give and take is virtually non existent. They way I see it, according to Aristotle's definition, I've never had any friends and neither have you for that matter. So should I just consider myself friendless and go on living in this crazy world of usefulness vs. nonusefulness or should I tell Aristotle to go fuck himself because I believe that I do have real and true friends? 

I'll answer that question with a question for my friends: Why do you spend time with me? Is it because there is an unspoken bond or is it because I provide something you need such as directions, a ride, leadership, family, someone to lean on, a printer, a tv, a bodyguard, a laugh, an outlet...?

Hear it. Watch it. Love it.

Buy her new Album "Elephants... Teeth Sinking into heart" out October 7th!

Withdrawal

I am in MMA withdrawal so bad right now. All summer before I left for Savannah I went to Jackson's everyday and got to grapple and kick box and learn all kinds of new moves but since I've gotten here all I can do is run and lift. It's driving me insane... I really need to figure out how to deal with this. I crave the physical activity and camaraderie that comes with learning to cagefight. 

Oh love...

Rachael Yamagata has put an EP up on iTunes promoting her CD release on Oct. 7th 2008. It's only a taste of what's to come but it's worth every penny. Go get it and listen. You won't regret it.

How to put music in your blog

Step 1: Use this html code

embed src="insertfilelinkhere" width="140" height="40" autostart="false" loop="FALSE">/embed

(just add these <> to the beginning and end respectively to make it "understandable" to the computer. Also add another open carrot before the forward slash.)

Step 2: Where it says insert file link here I would suggest going to this website: http://www.playlist.com/ Then just search for the song you want. On the results page find your intended song and copy and paste the link. If you have questions leave a comment and I'll help you out.

It'll end up looking like this:

press play and you're good.

Try as I might...

I can't get this to work, but I will!

...why...

everyday that you continue to ignore me I die a little more.

I'm a Toys R Us Kid!

Yet, I really need to grow up. It's terrible. I think I pretty much suck at life right now though, I'm not sure how much I'm supposed to rock at it at 18. I know I've done a lot of growing up over the past few years but there are a few things I just can't seem to get down. It's weird but I've always gotten along better with people several years older than me. I've always been able to talk to them more freely and I've found that their maturity compared to that of the people my age is quite refreshing. The only thing is that though I may want to be friends with these people, they don't have any interest in spending time with someone who isn't legally allowed to drink. It sucks. I mean, I totally get it, I don't really want to hang out with ten year olds and in some cases that is the age difference between me and the people I enjoy spending time with. I dunno. I just wish I was old enough for them to accept me because I know that half the time when we're talking they're wondering why on earth they're having this conversation with an 18 year old yet they continue because it's an intelligent insightful conversation that they are enjoying but at the end of the day they don't really want me around. I don't know what I'm trying to say. and I know that that sentence up there is jacked but I don't care. I guess it pretty much just sucks being 18 because the high schoolers are too young for you and everyone over 21 thinks you're too young for them. 

Kick in the face???

Sometimes there is simply too much going on in my head for me to sit back and relax. This week has been one of the busiest of my life yet also one of the coolest. Still, I will be very glad when everything is over and done with and I can get back to just enjoying summer, or what's left of it. I think the biggest thing right now is that things are going in different directions than I thought they would and it's causing my mind to throw a fit. You know, when something is going along just fine and then you realize that it's not fine but catastrophic and now you don't have any clue as to what to do about it... yeah, that's my week. Don't get me wrong, I've had many high points this week, it's just a lot harder to focus on good things when they're often tied in with the bad on some level. I enjoy speaking cryptically by the way, in case you hadn't noticed. ;) So, having a piercing ripped from your ear is not as bad as you think it might be, at least, it wasn't for me.

Ya, monday started off greeaattt. I caught a foot to the ear when I was grappling and it pulled my industrial straight through the front hole. It didn't really hurt so I didn't know it had ripped my ear until I reached up and realized the bar was not where it was supposed to be. So now there is an orbital ring in the back hole (since it's still intact) and if I ever want to get the front one pierced again they'll do it for free after it heals. That, to me, was a terrific way to start my week.

ya, so, week of hell is halfway over and I think things are starting to look up. I've got fun things planned tomorrow, friday and saturday so maybe things'll get better. Can't say for sure though since I haven't mentioned the worst part of my week. Well, that didn't help at all. I just feel all flat and deflated. :(

angry eyes

What the hell am i doing? Seriously... this was not supposed to happen and now, well, now I don't even know. i suppose I'm screwed. 

I HATE Airports

I HATE AIRPORTS!!!!!!!!!!!!
First thing's first: having a seven hour layover in the Newark Airport sucks ASS! phew... ok out of my system (NOT!) They won't let us into the presidents club because my dad isn't with us and apparently his lifetime membership that they gave him like twenty years ago doesn't apply to his immediate family unless he's present. Needless to say I had one of those moments where I visualize myself jumping the counter and smashing the attendant's face into the computer only to realize a half second later that I'd only imagined doing it and walk glumly down the stairs to join the rest of the common folk. Yes, it's a tangent and yes I'm aware my grammar went in all kinds of weird and incorrect directions but I've been up since well, for most of you, yesterday night so I really don't give a rat's ass about my grammar or lack thereof. I did just use thereof though so that's got to count for something. Scotland, all in all, was pretty awesome and no, I didn't blog everyday like I said I would. I also didn't include very much detail when i did blog because, let's face it, I suck at writing about places I visit. It's one of those "you had to be there" kind of things. I mean, things will happen during the day that I'm sure are going to be hilarious later and then when I sit down to write them I say to myself, "Well Fuck, that wasn't that funny after all."

So there you have it... I'm stuck in an airport with nothing interesting to do. I considered stealing one of the courtesy cart things but getting detained won't help to expedite my travel so... :P. AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! I just screamed a little bit inside. you really needed to know that I'm sure.

My thought process is slowing down meaning, I think, that my Starbucks frozen thingy that I'm pretty sure I stole from someone else is wearing off. Before you accuse me of petty theft and disown me I need to clarify that the lady handed me two drinks and shoved me out of the way so i just left. I only ordered an iced tea but I ended up with that and my frozen coffee thing so I drank them both to keep from keeling over and went on my hyperactive merry way. 8D
I also have some Scottish sugar cubes in my bag... I think I'll eat those and see what happens. For those of you that know me well, and those of you that don't, I'm bound to get into a wee bit of mischief now! Mwahahaha!

Toodles!

xoxo
E

Only one person can elicit that type of response from me...

and her name is Rachael Yamagata. So basically, she just published a three song downloadable EP on her website and the news sent me skipping through the house and into the garage so I could tell my sister, who was just getting home, that we had three new songs to listen to. Well, she almost ran me over because she didn't see me coming. But that's just how good the music is and I love RY to death. :)

Quick note

Busy and stressed. Graduation is next saturday, cleaning is mandatory and there's all kinds of events happening this week. So, I probably won't write anymore until after that. Just letting ya know. also, this is a test. I'll let you know the results of this test later. :D yay me!

Ah Children, hehehe

I love these videos. I know it's a little wrong but they're so damn funny!

crying myself to sleep

I just feel so alone right now.

Chain Smoking Grandma's

I was driving home from work today when something jumped through my plane of vision. After focusing my eyes I realized it was a smoldering cigarette butt that had flown out of the Cadillac's window and onto the pavement. It came from one of those old ones, white with a blue vinyl top. The light turned green  and the traffic started moving. I was behind and to the right of this Cadillac for I'd say... about four or five major blocks. In that time, I saw three more cigarette butts fly out of that car. Now, I don't know If they were recently smoked butts, but four in four blocks is a crazy thing to see. When I finally passed the Caddy, I noticed that the woman driving was elderly. She had the big sunglasses, the overly dyed "BIG" hair, the whole to-do. The other thing she had was a joint resting delicately between her lips. Needless to say, as I drove off and left granny in the dust, I burst out laughing and have had a smile on my face ever since. 

*I never have and never will smoke. It is a personal choice and I have no problems with those that do because it is their decision to make. All that I ask is that if you do smoke, please don't do so around me. I am quite allergic and it's very possible my throat would close up on me. This event simply made me laugh and that's why I wrote about it. 

A little bit of OCD

Some people find this interesting, some people find it funny, I simply cannot do it any other way, I honestly can't.
This is how I eat baby carrots:

Notice that those are just the cores. I start eating them like corn on the cob and then core them. If I mess up, which is rare, I have to dispose of the evidence immediately. I eat the cores eventually, but never as part of the whole carrot.

This is how I eat frozen waffles. Yes, frozen means frozen, i don't thaw them or put them in toasters, I open the box and eat them.

First, the waffle is round:

I bite of the circular edges and make it a square...

then I proceed to eat the sides off in counter-clockwise fashion until I have another perfect square...

Finally, there is only one square left so I pop it in my mouth and I'm done.

 

The following I did at a restaurant because I had far too much time on my hands:

That would be unworthy french fries on a stick, bread crumbs and turkey bits, green chile. I color coordinated them!

This was meant for yesterday

You ever wake up in the morning and just feel good? I don't mean feel good because something happened the night before or because you know something is gonna happen today, but good for no apparent reason. You get up, eat your breakfast, whatever that may be (for me that's frozen waffles and I mean frozen!) and read the paper. Then, despite the random twinges in your neck, you get ready for work. You hop in your truck (or car :P) and roll down the window while you listen to a mix at full blast. You do some singing and even a little car dancing cuz hey, you feel good and who cares what they think. I don't get it, but why should I have to? I've felt extremely guilty the past couple days all because I wanted to see if a DIY (do it yourself) method of tattooing actually worked. I swear to god, I am never looking up any DIYs ever again because I'll be stupid enough to try them and then I'll have to live with the consequences. The thing is, I figured out how to give myself semi-permanent tattoos several years ago but they never lasted as long as I wanted. My mother would see them and roll her eyes but as long as they eventually disappeared she didn't care. Well, I thought maybe this would work in a similar fashion since my old method was quite similar, but that they'd last longer. I'm pretty sure it worked but now I don't know if it'll ever go away. It was pain free though and it's not swollen or anything bad so as far as that goes I'm good. I dunno. But seriously, DIYs are gonna kill me. Damn. That's a mood killer... that and sitting in an almost empty office because your boss decided to give himself the day off but had you come in anyway even though you can't do anything unless he's there!!! So stupid. Oh well, so it goes right? The way the cookie crumbles and whatnot? Stupid thing is staring me in the face, "Susan! Can I get a slice of cake in here please? I'm starving!"

Didn't really happen, though I wouldn't mind some cake right now... Speaking of food, that's one way I can justify my self-diagnosed OCD, well, other than the fact that I count my steps while running sprints at basketball practice, but I'll save that for a different day. I have pictures too. Actually, OCD would probably help explain why I had to see whether or not the tattoo thing worked; or maybe that's just an excuse. I'm feeling good again, like maybe today won't turn out to be boring as hell! OR maybe it will. I have no life, none at all. I can't wait to go to college next year. 

Why Am I so... Stupid?

We're all entitled to our "stupid" moments. Mine was this afternoon. DIY projects are gonna kill me. 

F*#kMonkey!

So you make plans. It doesn't matter what kind of plans they are so long as you make them with other people. The first person you talk to says maybe, that it depends but they can probably do it. The second person says absolutely and you're ready to go. This is oh, say, five days in advance. The day before you are set to carry out your plans you check with everybody and all is good so you spend the next morning cleaning and what not so that your evening can be fun and worry free. You know the first person will be late because they have a previous engagement so you call the second person to double check on when they'll be arriving. They don't answer and you leave a message. They call you back and ask if you can move your plans to tomorrow instead because they have "work" that needs to be finished. You ask if they can ask their parents again. They say they'll call you back. When "in five minutes" becomes two hours you call them again and are forced to leave a message. Five minutes later you receive a text from person one. It says "she's not coming". Now you know that not only did person one lie to you about what they were doing, they didn't even have to courtesy to return your call. Now person two has no reason to come because you can't carry out your plans unless all three of you are there so you tell person two not to worry about it and that you'll reschedule. You're still royally pissed at person two. So you see, you may think your friends are reliable or dependable, but they're not. Some are, yes, and some can be trusted and counted on, but most of them, the ones you usually think are pretty cool, turn out to be lying, undependable assholes. Have a great day!

Fact vs. Fiction

Every day she sits there, just waiting to see if maybe today, it'll come. She checks over and over, again and again, but every time she comes up empty. She stands up, her chair swiveling under her momentum. Today was yet another lost day in her mind, and nothing could change that, it was midnight after all and now she had today for her luck to change. Her bed was soft, yet firm enough that it allowed her comfortable sleep. She pulled the sheets up to her neck and kicked her comforter onto the floor. The temperature was alway extreme in her room, never just right. Tonight, or should I say, this morning, it was far too hot. She lay there, staring at the shadows on her ceiling, the glow from her bedside lamp keeping her awake for awhile. Click... darkness. Finally, her eyes closed and her mind drifted away.

She leaned forward and pressed the power switch, her alarm clock still ringing somewhere in her room. She really must stop swatting it when it goes off in the morning. She had learned patience in her 25 years of existence, and it came in handy quite often, especially now. Her desktop finished loading and shortly thereafter so did her internet. A few clicks of the mouse and there she was again, staring, looking for something that just refused to be there. "It never hurts to check this early," she thought closing the screen in dismay. So went her morning routine: Swat alarm clock, check email, use bathroom, clean up, eat breakfast and be off to work by 7:47 on the dot.

Work was no picnic either. She never knew what she was going to do on any given day. She wasn't trained in anything specific so she just did whatever the professionals told her to. Some days that meant backing up files, other days it meant minding her own business while everyone rushed to get things finished around her. Today was one of those days. Today was the worst kind of torture. She always had her computer with her no matter where she went, so the days when she had nothing to do, she sat and she stared. "It'll come today." but it didn't. It didn't come this morning, it didn't come during work, and it most certainly didn't come after she went home.

Walking down the hallway after dinner, she caught a glimpse of someone in the mirror. It wasn't her. It couldn't be, she wasn't old or tired. She looked closer and began to see familiar features: there was a hint of green in her eyes. A freckle on the tip of her nose. "Why?" She knew precisely why. She knew that all this waiting and hoping was not an act of optimism, but an act of desperation. She had to end it, though she wasn't sure how. "Just tonight," she though, "Tonight and it's over."

11:50. Ten more minutes of agony and she would be finished, rid of this disease forever. She checked again... nothing. By now she wanted there to be nothing, she didn't want something because something would only prolong her agony, start it all over again in a vicious never-ending cycle. "Don't be there," she whispered as she refreshed the page yet again. "Don't be there." Five minutes were all that were left of the day, five minutes. She stood up, wringing her hands nervously as her bare feet carried her again and again across the tweed carpet. "I won't do it. I won't, not until midnight. Then it'll all be over."

12:00. She wasn't still enough to sit so she leaned down placing her right index finger atop the mouse. "Harder," she thought and the mouse responded instantly. Her screen loaded and there it was, exactly what she had been waiting for, nothing. A deep breath passed between her lips as she sat down on the edge of her bed. Seconds later she was out.

12:01. It came at 12:01 that morning, the message she had looked for all along. It said everything she had hoped it would say. It contained the one thing that would've ended her suffering had she not chosen to end it herself. She never saw it though. She didn't wake up when her sister ran in yelling at 8:15 in the morning. She didn't wake up when the paramedics tried to revive her. The aspirin had done its job and taken her pain away. As they wheeled her out, her sister glanced at the open laptop still on the desk. She moved the mouse. There was one new message in the Inbox. Open. "I'm Sorry."

Questions anyone?

I am in serious need of inspiration. I sit down everyday, take out my notebook and a good quality flowing-ink pen and stare at the pages. Nothing comes out. Nothing! I have completely lost my muse, well I guess not entirely, I'm still writing music on a daily basis, but still! Do you wanna be my writing muse? I need one, like seriously. The other day I was sitting in my truck eating ice cream with a friend, talking and I kept getting inspired to write, but could I write then? No. Did I write notes for myself so I could write about it later? yes. Could I write about it later? No! it wasn't funny any more, or interesting. You see, some things are only interesting or funny in the moment, unless you are very good at making it seem like "the moment" long after the moment is over. Does that make sense? Well, bottom line is: I'm not sure what to do. I could pull a poem out of a place I probably shouldn't or transfer some of my weird but workable song lyrics on to paper, but that just doesn't quite do it for me. I get excited and spazzy when I write. Recopying and writing from my ass doesn't make me excited or spazzy. Oh well, here goes nothing!


Oh the Times I've Wasted

Do you remember when you ran down my street topless in the middle of the night?
Do remember what that felt like?
I don't, but maybe that's because I just sat on my porch and waited for you to come back.

Do you remember the time you caught air on the hill on Alameda?
Do you remember how scared you were when you saw the sparks?
I don't, but maybe that's because I've only heard the stories.

Do you remember the time you snuck off campus for half the day?
Do you remember almost getting caught when you came back?
I don't, but maybe that's because I was watching you through the classroom window.

Do you remember how it felt to say "I love you"?
Do you remember if you meant it?
I don't, but maybe that's because I've never had the courage to say it.

Do you remember the time I said "Fuck it"?
Do you remember the time I threw the rules out the window?
I do, it's everyday from now on.

Naomi Shihab Nye taught me to do this...

Shoes strewn about my room

Some in pairs, some lonesome

for their partner lost under my bed.

Why don't you talk to me anymore?

Why don't you care?

I used to ask myself, "What if I leave?"

But you left - I look to my pillow and

it welcomes me

like your once open arms.

Speak

You sit and you stare

wondering how to do it.

What do you say?

It's so simple,

what you want to do.

Then why can't you do it?

Think of something,

Anything that might possibly work.

Will you say it now?

You still can't do it,

you can't risk it.

Or maybe you really don't want to.

You do though,

You want to so bad.

So why the hesitation?

It's that important

It has to be perfect.

Or does it?

Imperfection is just as good,

it has just as much potential.

So why haven't I just said it?

Explicit Sloshy Music

Today turned out to be quite eventful, quite pleasant too. It started when I joined my friend Shantal for lunch. I was telling her all about how I hadn't slept at all last night and how I stayed up ranting for hours and creating a lame excuse for a podcast. To take things out of sequence for just one second i'd like to say that I've decided to do a podcast from now on and though I haven't decided on a schedule yet, i'll post all the links here so you can keep up if you'd like. Anyway, back to the story. I was telling her all about my ranting when I mentioned that I wasn't sure whether or not I should edit myself in terms of how many expletives I used. I then got very excited because i had used the word "expletives" in a sentence. That was the first exciting thing that happened today. 

The second happened only a matter of minutes later when I told Pooch aka Shantal about some really stupid thing I did in middle school which I shall share with you now:

You remember those little toys that you used to get out of the 25 cent vending machines, you know, the ones that you pushed the guy down and he had a suction cup and a spring and you never knew when it was going to jump at you... one of those. Well, I had one of those and one day while sitting on the couch watching tv i broke it. I pulled it completely apart and lost the spring. Wanting to keep myself occupied, I decided to see what I could do with the remaining parts. The little stand was boring so I chucked it and eventually I threw away the figure at the top too, so all I had was the suction cup. It was cool because I could stick it to my arm and it would stay there. I figured out that it stuck to my face too. Well, I had to go to the bathroom so i got up and went and on my way back to the couch I walked by a mirror. There were purple circles all over my face. Panic! I didn't know what the hell it was so i ran back into the bathroom got a wash cloth and started scrubbing as hard as I could. They wouldn't come off. I broke down. "Mom," I called. She came over to me took one look at me and said, "What the hell did you do?" I didn't make the connection. It wasn't until she saw the suction cup on the counter that she realized what I'd done. "You dipshit," she said, "You gave yourself hickies with that suction cup." Needless to say, I have been very careful with suction cups ever since. 

Number 3!

My friend Brenna invited me to help her at a fundraiser today. It was called Art for Autism and they had an art auction to raise money for a medical center. We were to be servers andwalk around with trays of food. What we didn't know was that we were going to meet our new favorite person. The woman who was in charge of the event at this particular winery was named Aubrey, but we forgot that right after she told us. She was kinda crazy, but really nice and funny. Since we didn't know her name, whenever we discussed her we referred to her as the "Black Mamba" and by the end of the night "Sloshy". She wasn't actually sloshed but she had been serving wine all night and she was crazy already so... When we first arrived and were waiting to start working we hung out in Sloshy's office. She would come in and out, but every time she came in it would scare the crap out of us. She kept walking in while we were laughing and we'd stop when she came in. that's pretty much one of the most suspicious things you can do. Eventually that stopped happening because we started working. Everything was smooth. We'd walk around offering people food and then refill the tables when need be.  Every now and then, Sloshy would walk over and say something to us about this or that and we'd do whatever she asked. One time she walked over and said," The owner just got here so go feed people." We had to look extra productive.  Later, once we'd made the transition from finger foods to desserts, I suggested to Brenna that we move on to the grass. As we stepped out onto the grassy area a familiar voice called from a nearby table, "Hey girls, bring those cookies over here." It was Sloshy and she was talking with one of the guests. I walked over and she looked at the tray of goodies in my hands and selected a cookie. She then offered them to the others at the table and Brenna and I went back to work. Not two minutes later while following Brenna upstairs to refill a tray I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around, slightly startled. "Will you take this," she asked. "What," I said. "I can't finish my cookie and I have to go talk to my boss." Sloshy was holding her half eaten cookie in her left hand and extended it towards me. "Sure." We put it upstairs on a napkin with a note that said, "Aubrey's Cookie. Do not eat this cookie." There were many other events that night involving Sloshy that were quite amusing, but I don't have time to list them all. She made us laugh and even though some of her hand gestures, quirks, and mannerisms were a bit out there, we enjoyed her company immensely.

Last bit of cool.

We were cleaning up outside towards the end of the Art for Autism event when the guys who'd been playing music all night, Juan and Travis, asked me if I played guitar because they'd overheard me tell Brenna that my guitar was better than Juan's. I said yes because I do and they asked me to sit in with them for their last song of the night. Long story short, I got to jam with a couple of awesome musicians. Brenna played Maraccas. So yeah, my day pretty much rocked. 

"Write... or Die!"

I keep hearing the same thing over and over, "I don't care if it's good, I just need to see that you're actually doing work." -Stu

Stu is my creative writing teacher, a jewish New Yorker currently living here with his wife and kids. Whenever he asks us to read our work aloud in class everyone starts with an apology of some sort:

"It's just a draft..."

"It's really rough still..."

"I don't really like it so..."

"This isn't finished yet but..."

Then everyone reads and you realize that all it is is a bit of self-conscious fluff. "Get the Fuck away from the Fluff!" So many things that I've thought were complete shit I've shown to friends or teachers and received nothing but compliments. After read one piece aloud in my english class, my teacher found me afterwards to tell me that it was amazing and that it completely blew his mind. 

This year is the frist time i've ever submitted anything to either of our school publications: "Pulp, Pith and Zest" (non-fiction and photography) and "Other Voices" (fiction and other creative works). I did it anonymously but give me a break, it's a first step and a big one at that. That's why I'm only writing semi-anonymously now. I don't draw attention to who I am, but the information is there if you want it. So why don't i post my works here instead of these weird "journal type explanations of random things" things? I don't know. maybe I will. I tell you what... I'll go back through my folders and if I see something I like, I'll put it up under an ambiguous title like "Essay 1" or "Poem 7 - A Sestina". I'm putting my music on her too. The link is over there. --->

My videos you can see on youtube and I think that pretty much covers all forms of media. So... ya. I'm getting it out there, all at once. It's like one huge pile of shit yet it's still not big enough to see through the grass. If I'm lucky enough, some unknowing person will accidentally set foot in this pile of shit and while attempting to scrape it off their shoe, realize that it isn't shit at all. 

Wow that's a weird analogy. I just compared gaining an audience to stepping in dog shit. Well, if you find this even mildly amusing I'm pretty sure you'll like everything else I have to say here. Next time you're out and you suddenly realize you've stepped in something of "that" consistency, don't fret because it may just be the best shit ever.

Who needs sleep?

"Can't sleep," I ask politely.
"No. I"m doing work though, actually."
"Oh, I'm doing this because I can't sleep. If I turn a light on to read, I might as well kiss sleep goodbye. There's nothing on tv, not that I watch much anyway but... that leaves me with this."
"You don't need a light to be on your computer?"
"Nope. :) The glow from the screen illuminates the keyboard."
"Oh."
"So, what are you working on?"
No answer... five minutes later, still no answer.

Maybe she's busy. Maybe she fell asleep. No you idiot, she probably doesn't want to talk to you because she doesn't like you. Oh! New comment!

"I'm just working on a bunch of different things, nothing specific."

"Oh, I see. Look, I'm really enjoying this, but if you don't want me to bother you anymore I can get off..."

"What? Oh, no it's fine. It's a distraction, a pleasant one at that. I really don't mind at all."

She minds, I know she minds. I wouldn't want to talk to me at 2 in the morning if I was doing work. I really should let her be... oh but I can't, I want to talk...

"Ok, but um, you know stop me at any time. So, it's 2:15, what does that make it where you are?"

"It's 1:15 here. Why aren't you sleeping again?"

"I just can't. I've always been a bit of an insomniac. you know what I wish though..."

"No, what?"

"I wish I could pull my truck out of the garage, drive to the end of the block, park and just chill in the bed, under the stars. I really wish I could."

"Why don't you then? It sounds nice to me too."

"My parents would freak if I just left in the middle of the night. The only time I can actually do that is when my friends are here and we stay up all night."

"Oh, I see. But I guess if you were out under the stars we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we?"

"No, we wouldn't. Oh shit, my computer's about to die. Could we continue this tomorrow?"

"Sure thing. Good luck sleeping!"

"Thanks and good luck with your work."

That's a conversation I had a while ago with a friend of mine, the italics represent my though process. If you can't sleep and you can't think of anything to do, get in touch with me during the wee hours of the night. Chances are I'm still awake and I'm really quite reasonable during those hours.

What is Love? Do you know the answer?

Here is the promo for one of my big projects. The final project will be longer with a lot more people's interviews incorporated into it. If you'd like to participate please don't hesitate to post a response to the youtube version of this. The instructions for content are in the information section with the video. If you are not so computer savvy and would like to participate, comment this and I'll do what I can. Hope you're all well and enjoy.




This is a Zitrocity Films Production.

Randomness times 2

I got my acceptance letter from SCAD today. Don't know what that is? It's Savannah College of Art and Design and it's a school I'd very much like to go to. The only thing is, I opened it, read it, and that was it. I didn't get excited or run to go call anyone, I was just mildly pleased. Shouldn't getting into one of your top choices be more exciting than this? Perhaps not if you didn't get into your number one choice school, but nonetheless...

Seeing how that wasn't the actual point of writing today, let me move on. My sister is a vegetarian and my mother has suddenly decided to buy only certain types of healthy food and drinks... and I don't mind at all. The vegetarian thing isn't really a big deal because my sister just got offered what I would call her dream job in New York and won't really be around. When she is home though, we change up our meals to accommodate her need for a meatless meal. The thing with my mother is different. She's just buying healthier foods. For example, I had soy milk for the first time the other day and it was delicious. I just opened my fridge and there it was where the normal milk used to be. I was thirsty so I had some and was pleasantly surprised. So ya, things like that. I like it though because I don't have to think about eating better I just can because it's already there in the refrigerator or cupboard. Going to play guitar now... hasta

They don't have super human powers, but...

As I sit here, curled up in my bed contemplating how to say everything I want to say I can’t help thinking how lucky I am. I’m about to write about several people who I often refer to as heroes of mine but I’ve never met any of them. I do have other heroes, people that I do know personally and with whom I’ve interacted with multiple times, but those people I call my mentors, my teachers, my family and best friends and I can tell them how much I appreciate them whenever I want. These people, the three I’m about to talk about, are people I’ve never met in person. They are people who, in some way, have inspired me, helped me, or touched my heart. My heroes are people whom I someday hope to meet and if I’m lucky become friends with.
The ironic thing about my heroes is that none of them earned their titles simply by having that name or being that person. In each case, it was something that the person did, one little action, which caught my attention. For one person, it was her music. For another, it was her passion for the game. For the last, it was her writing.
The first time I heard anything by Rachael Yamagata was on an episode of Alias. Her song, entitled Meet Me by the Water, was playing in the background during a scene. At the time I didn’t know the name of the song or who it was by so I got online and did some research. Shortly thereafter I downloaded her entire cd, as well as all other tracks showing her name, from iTunes and began listening to the music that taught me to feel.
Before RY all I really listened to was the popular music on the radio or the foreign language stuff my sister would burn for me, so the sudden impact of music with real meanings and real truths was intense. Her music is the kind of music that even without the lyrics I feel like I could understand the emotion and intent of the song. One aspect of her music that most intrigued me was that she wrote on and played piano and guitar. When I was about 6 I started taking piano lessons. When I was about 12, I quit. Listening to Rachael play made me regret that decision. I wanted nothing more than to be able to sit down in front of our piano and write my own music, but I couldn’t remember anything about chord progressions or changes or even how to finger certain chords. I took up sax in sixth grade, but that didn’t help me either. It was the guitar that sat in the corner of my sister’s room that finally brought me some satisfaction.
After getting permission from my sister to use the guitar I immediately started teaching myself how to play using a guitar for dummies book. I learned a few simple chords and a couple of easy, cheesy songs and then I said to myself, “Screw the book. I want to play real songs.” After that I started looking up tabs online and never looked back. I’ve learned several of Rachael’s songs on guitar, but only one via tabs online. I’ve spent hours staring at youtube videos watching her hands move from chord to chord until I could play it back perfectly. I’ve spent hours just listening to the same song, trying to recognize patterns and intervals so that I could play it on my own. All of that time what I was really doing was preparing myself to write my own stuff, to express my own feelings in my own way. I’ve written pieces on guitar, sax, and even piano now and I make sure and do a little playing everyday.
Rachael Yamagata is my hero because her music touched my heart. It touched my heart and it taught me to listen, not only to chords, but also to myself and how I really felt. I now have a whole new way of expressing myself that I didn’t really have before and when I’m sad or just emotionally unstable I have a collection of music that comforts and protects me. So Rachael, I thank you.

Michael Jordan. Larry Bird. Magic Johnson. Shaq. Kobe. Sheryl Swoops. Pat Summit. Cheryl Miller. Candace Parker. Sue Bird. Every one of those names should elicit some reaction from anyone who knows basketball. They are all icons, all fairly well known within the basketball community but only one gets to call herself my hero.
I started playing basketball the moment I could walk and at the time I was a huge fan of MJ. When I heard that there was a girl down at Duke named Alana (pronounced the same as Elena, my name) who played basketball I had to check it out. That is how I got started in watching women’s college basketball and that is how one day while watching a game I discovered Sue Bird.
There is not one specific thing that she does that makes her my hero. I watched every UConn game on TV after I discovered Sue Bird and I’ve watched every Seattle Storm game as well. My game improved tremendously after watching Birdy play. I watched her every move like a hawk, studying how she handled the ball, how she distributed the ball and how she read the court. I’d see a move I liked and go outside and practice it until I thought I had it, and then at my next practice I’d put it to the test. I never expected to get things perfect and I rarely did, I knew no one could replicate her.
Watching her win championships at both the college and professional level have allowed me to see how strong of a leader Sue Bird is. She never gives up and never gets down. She is full of encouragement for her teammates and occasionally some choice words for referees. When she enters into a game she puts everything she has on the floor for her team. After she broke her nose during Seattle’s championship run she got surgery on it and played in the next game, a game in which she took another elbow to the face from a player and almost got a second from a ref. I knew that that was the kind of leader I wanted to be for my team.
Unfortunately, I am not planning on playing basketball in college, but I plan on being the best guide, friend and leader to everyone I can in life. Sue Bird is a great role model for anyone looking to succeed in life. Her tenacity, toughness, and attitude are all inspirational to me. I have a deep respect for her and how she handles extremely stressful situations. Birdy helped me have confidence in myself as a leader and has helped me reach new levels I didn’t think possible. So Sue, I thank you.

The following is an entry from my journal in 2006:
“Is it possible to fall in love with someone through their writing? Not that I have, because I haven’t but seriously… I think it’s possible but not probable you know. It could happen but most likely won’t. I’d love to be able to write like that though, be able to write with enough of myself and raw deep emotion to show someone who I am, that they actually loved me. A lot of people do that for me either through writing, singing or acting. I know it’s usually not the person I’m seeing but the idea of a person like that, so I don’t love them but fall for their work and crave more of it.”
I was on youtube looking for something interesting when I came across a 20/20 special interview. It was about this independent film that was made on an extremely small budget and starred not A-list actors, but the children or relatives of such people. The movie was called Last Goodbye and since I would love to someday produce my own movie I knew I had to see this. The amount of luck behind getting this movie from an idea to a screen was amazing and I had to see the outcome. Unable to find the movie in any store, I turned to Amazon.com, where I found and purchased the movie and had it sent via next day delivery.
I was very pleased with my purchase. Not only did it give me hope that one day I might be able to realize my dream of making a movie but it introduced me to a whole new generation of actors. One such actor, or actress I should say, was Clementine Ford. Now, I don’t know why, but something about her intrigued me and I wanted to know more. There are plenty of sources of information on the Internet, but no source of information is more reliable than the actual person. I decided to see if she had a myspace, and she did. It took some time for me to summon the courage to send a friend request, but I finally did it and I am so glad I did.
In reading the blogs on her myspace page, I realized that she was a very simple down to earth person, quite different than what I’d expected. She had links to musicians I’d never heard of and recommended different things to read. Always in search of new things to try I listened to the music and read the short story. She has very good taste. A day or so after she’d accepted my friend request she posted a blog about another blog she had, where she was going to start a little project of writing a blog a day everyday for thirty days. When she started writing I started reading.
It was at this point that I realized that I really loved her writing. Sometimes it completely baffles me and sometimes I come away with this incredible sense of familiarity. More often than not, I end up laughing so loud that my friends wonder what the hell is going on. I look forward to each day’s new entry and, obviously, to pass the time started my own blog. I’ve always enjoyed writing but have never had the courage to just say what needs to be said. I always worry about what people will think or how they will interpret what I’ve written but Clementine said that it’s getting things out there for yourself that matters.
I saw you first as an actor, then as a genuine person, as a writer and most recently as one of my heroes. Your work inspires me on a daily basis and your humor and honesty remind me that you are just like the rest of us. You, like me, are the good kind of weird. There is much more depth to your personality than I ever imagined there could be and you express that clearly in every word you write. You’ve introduced me to new music and new literature and have reawakened my need to just put myself out there. I’m not turning back anymore and I’m not hiding anything from anyone anymore. So Clementine, I thank you.

I would not be the person I am without the people who influence my life: heroes, friends and family alike. From the bottom of my heart I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, whether directly or indirectly. I wanted to say all this and now I have. With love… E

Sex in a Bottle

Earlier today I read a post by The Dirty Ballerina and it made me think about my own interesting experience with fragrances. This entry is a response to hers as well as a way of reminding myself of great memories.
A couple summers ago my high school basketball team went to Denver for a summer tournament. One afternoon, after we had finished our games for the day we decided to go to the mall. We perused the stores and at one point paid one of our teammates to purchase an entire bright orange ensemble and wear it to dinner that night. She did. The best part of our visit to the mall was when we went to Bath & Body Works. All 12 of us wandered around the store spraying each other with different body mists and perfumes, wandering what all we could get for the least amount of money. At one point, a good majority of us converged around the section of "breathe" products. Kelsi, possibly the most innocent and uncorrupted girl on the team, immediately reached for the sample bottle of "Romance" and began giving each of us a squirt. After that, she picked up a bottle of the lotion for herself and said, "Don't you love the way this smells? I think it smells like sex!"
All of us were stunned. This from the girl who said, "This peach cobbler is so good I'd have sex with it if I could, but I'd have to marry it first." All of us were surprised to hear her compare something to sex. After noticing the looks on our faces she quickly corrected herself, "I mean, this is what I think sex would smell like."
We all had a good laugh about it later but from that moment on the entire basketball team wore one type of lotion and we called it sex in a bottle.

You may think that that is where the story ends but you would be very wrong if you did. It was the end of October, just before my birthday and my sister wanted me to go to the mall with her. "Will you please go to the mall with me," she pleaded.
"Why," I asked.
"Because you're better with directions than I am."
I conceded. After guiding my sister to the mall, a place she'd been numerous times before, I made her promise to go to Bath & Body Works with me so I could get some new lotion. She happily agreed and within the hour we were perusing the shelves of lotions and seasonal items. My sister picked up a bottle of pumpkin spice lotion which was supposed to smell like, you guessed it, pumpkins. I stood next to her as she unscrewed the lid and before I could get away she'd smeared a generous portion of it onto my arm.
I don't know what the lotion actually smelled like but it was nothing like pumpkins. It smelled like rotting pumpkins at the closest but beyond that the best I can say is putrid. And now, it was all I smelled like. After cursing my sister I decided I needed to put something on to try and cover up the stench my arm now emitted. I was still hot tempered and without thinking looked at my sister and said,"I need SEX!" Needless to say, everyone else in the store turned to stare at me. I got past my embarrassment and finally found what I was looking for. I smothered my arm in the lotion before grabbing another bottle to purchase. Unfortunately, the sex didn't cover up the smell of rotting pumpkins but mixed with it to create a scent I hope none of you ever encounter. That was the day "Sexy Pumpkins" was born and after my shower that night, the day it died.