Back to School

I’m totally bugged out. Hungover. Whatever. I’m on day two of classes at this ridiculous incubator of a school full of crowds of girls who all look the same and speak with the same slow sing song annoying (and loud!) voice. They all eat fat free cottage cheese with fruit and frozen yogurt and salad and nothing else. Ok maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it makes me sick. They’re not in shape, but they pretend to be ‘healthy’ by not eating, and are getting on my last nerve. I just tried talking to a professor after class and the dean walked in and I introduced myself and tried to continue the entrepreneurial conversation with both of them, but realized that the dean was just staring at me up and down and not engaged at all in the discussion. Ok I might not look like the average student here because I’m wearing all black tight clothes and a red pashmina around my neck and moccasins. But seriously dude, get the fuck over it. Stop staring at me like that. It makes me think you can see straight through me and know that I’m not wearing any underwear. How in the world am I going to survive this semester?!

Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock

I can travel the world and trick myself into thinking I’m going to find something magical which will direct me towards what to do with the rest of my life. Or I can suck it up and realize that January I have to graduate and be a real person. But I have no, not a clue, nada idea what I want to do. The thought of working a 9-5 job at a desk in ‘business casual’ makes me sick to my core. I am green with envy for all the people that just know what they want to do as a job. I know this is not a written in stone decision, and that jobs can change, and that turnover rates are high nowadays, but that first step. It’s haunting me, and I’m totally spooked. And then when we used that older lady with emphysema’s vintage kitchen for the photo shoot, she spoke of something in her house, which came from Italy. But when I asked if she had been there her response was “Oh no, I haven’t been there yet.” Yet?!?!? I mean that’s positive and all, but sheesh that scares me so much. I want to see the world, or at least a whole bunch of countries, which interest me. I don’t ever want to be the old lady, ill, who hasn’t done it “yet.” So in a way traveling the world might not be the worst thing. Who knows when the right time is…

(In)Significant

I hate all lies. Even little mostly non-consequential ones. Especially little non-consequential ones. Because that means someone cares so little about deceiving another that they’re willing to formulate a lie. Willing to waste brain power and words on something so insignificant that it’s so entirely significant in its gesture to how little they care for the receiver. It’s deeply offensive then, to find out that someone would do this to me. And I think I know his reason too- just so that his pride wouldn’t be damaged and his imaged maintained as the all encompassing able and perfect guy. But his character is so very flawed now, and he has therefore turned so insignificant, just from an insignificant little lie.

Paint My Fate

People always ask me how I know so many people and how I manage to have such interesting, many times random experiences. I think it’s all about not being tied down and being open to meeting strangers and turning them and their lives into something I can connect to. Serial killers aside, I really do find that most people have something to offer the rest of the world in terms of how they live and meet challenges. We’re all just a mass of cells, blood, flesh, and bones. We’re composed of the same substances, but the substances we add to ourselves over the course of our lives is what differs us, and is it not quite remarkable how much and how little we are capable of on that front? And that’s why when I meet people who are merely mediocre and follow a middle road guidebook to lead their lives, I feel sorry for them, and just can’t stay intrigued. Going through motions and doing each step of life the way ‘everybody does it’ is kind of cop-out-ish. 

We only live once. We all hear that all the time to the point where those words lose their meaning in triggering us to do something about it. We only live once. We have an unknown amount of time on this earth to meet people, forge relationships, feel any feeling we wish and don’t wish, travel wherever we can, see all the places we have some innate interest for, and learn all the endless mass of concepts & ideas possible. From the time I was little I got overwhelmed in libraries because I already had this finite realization. I knew that even if I sat my entire life just reading all those books, I wouldn’t be able to conquer it all. And that’s just in one silly building.

Next to the rest of the world, this reality is enough to shake me to do something about this cliché truth;     We only live once. So live we must. 

The Devil

Speak of the devil and he appears. Like smack in the middle of discussing one of my most humiliating moments of my entire life with the boys in a bar, he walks into the very bar with the girl who shares my last name. Brilliant. I guess Devil’s can do irony.

Ignore the devil and he still appears. On electronic sources. Like facebook status’s in my face. And in the form of goodness knows what else he’s plotting behind our backs. His ship sailed but now he’s trying to sink ours and I really wish he’d just run far, far away and never come back. How does he find poo humorous when it was used to make a statement? Instead it entertained him. He is the most selfish devil.

Pizza is not the same devil I speak of, but this still makes me chuckle. “Pizza is my crack. It’s the devil on my shoulder. Pizza is my greatest love and my worst enemy. But I will not marry pizza.” Charlie said this to me when we were discussing my sick obsession with pizza. 

D-Listed

Truth is more fascinating than fiction. It’s more warped, twisted, and astonishingly orchestrated than a horror’s symphony or a nightmare’s plot. But now that we’ve all woken from this bad dream, things seem even more surreal. I may not have been involved, but I sure was taken for a ride. I hate rides that make me queasy, and I had to let the cat out of the bag. Manipulating everyone against each other is the darkest art, and I told you I’d protect her and she better not get hurt. You had me convinced you cared. You said you cared, but so do I care- about strangers who fall on the street. That isn’t enough to call it love. Don’t tell her you love her and ask the other her to marry you. You had your cake and ate it too. But it was poisonous, and I think you see now that dishonesty can’t go on forever, so ironically, in a way I saved you too. Because even the biggest monster must find all those Lies a torturous weight; incredibly heavy on his shoulders. But now you are the hated one, Sir, and your two sweet puppets have surfaced out of murky waters, and are real live girls again. And even better they’re friends. 

Physical Therapy

So my body is apparently in some sort of race against the sun in the mornings, and it woke me before dawn.

Normally this would piss me off exceedingly, but yesterday brought about some physical therapy which has been keeping me in a wonderful mood ever since. The therapy was in the form of a hookup. I don’t get it. He’s the only guy I’ve consistently liked since high school. I met him in tenth grade at Liz’ house where we had a heated game of monopoly, and I don’t even like monopoly. I hate board games. I remember seeing him walk into the backyard and as soon as I saw him, it was a crush. In freshman year of college we finally hooked up. The way that happened was a late night phone-call, which led to me getting in a late night cab down to his dorm. I was the one taking charge, he didn’t know any tricks, and still I thought he was magnificent. We are an unlikely team. He is preppy, snobby, suit-wearing rich boy. I am a free loving, carefree, imagination, music, & romance driven middle class girl. And therefore, in my mind, in his mind, I was just an adventure. It’s almost like those English literature themes where his family & friends would never approve. But something has kept us consistently speaking and periodically hooking up. The one thing that had kept my feelings at bay was that he’s not as experienced. But last night he took that off the con list, and there are only pros. His new flat on St. Marks is all empty, freshly painted, with a beautiful brick wall, and calming murmurs of people speaking outside. It felt like a movie scene somewhere in Europe as the sun went down & we came back from happy hour…and He has definitely learned new tricks.

My feelings are fresh ‘not at bay.’ And now I’m left wondering…what if, just maybe, we possibly liked each other?? 

www.urbandictionary.com

max 12 up, 4 down
“Max”
Origin: Latin
Meaning: Diminutive of Maximilian: Greatest.
Commonly used with the word “Lightning”
Origin: Welsh
Meaning: lionlike; lightning
True to thier name all Max’s are Trustworthy. Attractive. Great kisser’s. One of a kind, Proud of themselves in whatever they do. Messy, and unorganized. Procrastinators. Great lovers, when their not sleeping. Extreme thinkers. Loves their pets usually more then their familiy. Can be VERY irritating to others when they try to explain or tell a story. Unpredictable. Will exceed your expectations. Not a Fighter, But will Knock your lights out.
” Max Lightnig….. “

Good Intentions

New York City seduced me today.

I drank my weight in alcohol last night at the final fling before the ring, with mad fun girls, and therefore remained drunk all day. I took a long walking route back home, and ran into a street fair where I met a lovely Israeli lady who journeyed to India, and started a leather based business there. Her merch is fabulous, and I couldn’t help myself. I had to buy it. The sun was bright, the breeze was flirtatious, and I loved brunch at The Coffee Shop. His head is too large for his body, but his conversation was fun, and now I’m in a struggle between shallow and depth. But he did red flag me with all the slapping my shoulder and sticking his tounge out. It’s just not that intelligent and comfy like that. And I guess I’m just not that into him. Truth is a bitter friend, but it’s the most honest one you’ll ever have. Kate had her fashion show today in the form of a bloc party, and I invited Peace over because I met her last night and knew she was hippy chic and fun and Kate’s goods are right up her ally. She showed up with her cousin, and they loved Kate’s goods.