back on the line

i managed to get myself a phone (i got the best deal at the inperson store). it's a different brand than i had before and seems counterintuitive and i have no patience for reading manuals. so i'm still not savvy, but i am reachable.

shhh, don't tell anyone.

on a mission for a homing device

the untimely demise of my cellular phone last friday was sad. very upsetting.

especially when i was to be in on helping coordinate a party for three people the next day, none of the other coordinators of which i had actually spoken to about the technicalities of when and where. so i had to do it [gasp] the old-fashioned way. you know, like be places i said i was going to be WHEN i said i was going to be there. it was strange not to call and check up on things or whine about how it took three tries to find an ice-cream cake store that hadn't been boarded up or a tmobile store that hadn't been shuttered. what's going on people? don't you love cold fattening treats and roving communication devices anymore? (and why are all the icecream places and cellphone showrooms always in the same strip malls?)

regardless, i showed up with the praline cream/white cake with shaky red-gel writing on top (the ice cream store i found was joined with a doughnut shop and the 'cake-writing lady' had the day off, so i did it myself). a good time was had by all.

with the worst over without my phone, i let it lag a bit. i looked around and checked out the phones in the store, where the guy told me that i'd likely get a better deal with tmobile representative via telephone. i let a day go by and called them up. the woman cordially told me i'd likely get a better rebate if i shopped online, because they're trying to get people to use the website. (interesting. maybe that's why two of the stores now have 'space for rent' signs in the window.) i let another day go by. i checked online. it was the same deal with the same rebate as everywhere else. at that point people i talk with regularly were getting annoyed by dealing with me on my mom's low-battery phone, my dad's blippity phone or my old dinosaur handset with the faulty speaker, let alone having to try all those numbers. at their behest, i made the decision to go ahead to the store to take the merchandise home same-day. and then i let a day go by. yeah, i still don't have a phone.

i'm starting to think that deep down inside, i just don't want to be reached.

out of touch

last night i dropped my phone. on concrete steps. i got to see what it looks like on the inside. it was a sad day because my phone is one of my only connections to other human beings.

i feel like i've been excommunicated from society.

rerun

it sucks when you get to work and wonder if you've already worn the sweater you currently have on sometime recently because it's baby-chicken yellow and memorable, which makes you feel like everyone is looking at you like you're Jim Varney from 'Ernest Goes to Camp' and have a whole closetful of the exact same outfit.

i know. i need a nap.

operating hours: noon to 5 a.m. unless you're bleeding

2 a.m.: working late in the dungeon.

6 a.m.: finally fall asleep

7:45 a.m.: roommate comes into my room, sits down and makes me read a letter he's really excited about even though i had already heard the news the day before. doesn't get the hint when i keep my eyes closed. finally leaves when i get snippy.

8:30 a.m.: friend calls. (cellphone is on because a phone call is much more effective than the alarm clock.) no message.

8:31 a.m.: house phone rings. roommate tells friend that i'm 'out' because i just bit his head off and he didn't want piss me off any more.

8:32 a.m.: friend calls cell again. no message.

8:35 a.m.: completely awake and starting to worry someone i care about might be lying in the street bleeding to death or something-- which would be an appropriate reason to necessitate three phone calls at my equivalent of THE DEAD MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. unable to fall back asleep for fear i'm a horrible friend for not answering.

8:50 a.m.: call her back. no one is dead, thank god. i'm already awake, so i might as well talk. it was an important issue, but definitely one that could have waited a couple of hours.

9:15 a.m.: can't sleep.

10:15 a.m.: can't sleep.

11:15 a.m.: can't sleep.

12:15 p.m.: can't sleep.

1:15 p.m.: can't sleep.

2:15 p.m.: can't sleep.

i'm starting to think that my snoozing skills are starting to lag.

oh that's just the crickets

ever notice that when people are happy, they have a lot less to say?

just a thought.

primary punch

the election process can be such a pain in the ass. mostly at times when you go all the way to the new polling place they sent you a notice to find because your precinct has changed and the slow but kind old man can't seem to work his palm-pilot voter search thingy's stylus. he can't find your name and after twenty minutes you realize you can't afford to stay any longer to fill out a provisional ballot. so not only are you unable to fulfill your civic duty, you're late to work.

***UPDATE***
my parents, who are in the same precinct as i am, went to the same polling place later that evening and the people had no trouble finding my dad's name. he went into the makeshift cardboard booth to vote and another woman (who happened to be the one who had originally been unable to find me) couldn't find my mom. my father overheard the discussion and came out of the booth to say, 'she's my wife, if i'm there, she's there!' he was reprimanded by the polling police, who yelled at him to get back in there or his vote wouldn't count. the woman found them and then told my parents to apologize to me on their behalf -- we were all there: dad, mom, cadiz and even little bro, who lives in alabama and who i suspect has voted maybe once since he was able.

sometimes i wonder if the people working such an important facet of our democracy have to take a test first or at least get a little training. you know, in the alphabet and stuff.

girl, check out those zebras!

last night cc and i met up with our girl ray and ray's highschool friend k to see ray's college buddy perform on the south side. the start time listed was 8:30 p.m. we met up and went to the performance area, where about 15 people were milling around. they all seemed to know each other. The guy who was to perform wasn't anywhere around, except for the posters of him sitting on easels all around the lobby. a few people from his entourage who knew ray came up, hugged us and said hello. the show was not on time. 2 hours late. and there were a lot of opening acts. but we were there to see ray's friend, who did not end up going on until midnight.

most of the people around ignored us. like we were furniture. but some of them stared. like we were zoo animals. who had tails. or horns or something.

while we were waiting, we hung out at the bar and talked to a few people who seemed to think we were a novelty, being the only ones who were different. it's really amazing how you could live in the same city as a group of people, yet still seem so foreign to them. ray and k were especially disturbed by this, taking note of everyone who did a double take, or said stuff like, 'welcome ladies! we're ALL about the variety here!' or 'you're not leaving, are you? please don't leave!' or 'we're not going to steal your coats, we have a coat check you know' (we had been holding onto them for ray/k's trips outside for a smoke). cc made a good point: if we really thought that, we would have never come. sometimes people are quick to jump to conclusions.

i'm not sure how cc felt, but none of this stuff bothered me 1/10 as much as it did ray and k. maybe because i'm not caucasian? who knows. but quite possibly it's because as a person of color, i've been in that situation more times in my life than i can remember, and the what-the-hell-are-they-staring-at-me-for feeling is definitely not a new one. after awhile you realize people are curious or surprised and usually don't mean any harm. but that takes time. ray and k were considering leaving, they were so uncomfortable. but we all stayed.

RAM, ray's friend, was good. much better than his opening acts. and his sister was very talented, too, american-idol caliber. RAM was very sweet; having seen us in the audience he came over after the show to say hello and invite us to the afterparty. the fact that they were entertaining made the wait not so bad.

overall it was an interesting experience, despite the uncomfortable bits. but i honestly believe every person should be put in that kind of situation at least once in her/his life-- feeling out of place and under a microscope for no reason other than being who you are, in a way that is easy to see and impossible to hide. just to know what it's like.

day seventeen of dungeon duty

when you are desperately looking around the tiny office for something sturdy with which you can hang yourself

you can't out-give a giver

today's my mother's birthday, which is always a source of stress. because i'm pretty sure my mom is in the top ten of the world's best giftgivers. a) because she's always thinking of everyone else but herself and b) because her mind is like a bear trap with jagged teeth that will sever your leg before it will let go (which is dangerous if you ever want to bring up the past in an argument).

she's gotten me gifts i forgot that i wanted, items so perfectly suited to my needs that it's as though there's truth to that threat she made when i was in junior high that no matter how far i go or what i do she can always see me and will always find out. (and she always did somehow! but with age, i've realized it was poor deception skills on my part, not omniscience on hers, that did me in.)

the curse of being a great giftgiver is that you're rarely rewarded by your recipients. so every year i go out of my way to take notes on what she may want or need or even think about wanting or needing, just to try and make her day. and i fail more often than not. because great giftgivers are often horrible present-accepters, usually saying nonsense like, 'this looks expensive. why did you spend so much? save your money!' or 'this is pretty good, but i'm probably not going to use it' about the run-of-the-mill perfume/sweater/jewelry gift or combination thereof. so all that stuff is out. the real winners have been long letters i've written when i had no money and last year when me and my dad secretly flew my brother home and he rang the doorbell about ten minutes after she'd gotten off the phone with him telling her he was at his university's library. silly woman. that library thing was a dead giveaway.

there's no way i could top that. especially when she was like, 'remember when your brother came home last year? that was the best present i've ever received.' yeah. not gonna happen this year, lady. but i did have a pretty solid idea. and this time, i decided everybody was on their own as far as mom is concerned. none of this can-i-give-you-money-and-put-my-name-on-it bs. which was cool with my brother, who has always been pretty good about putting a card in the mail or sending flowers. but with my dad, things were a little trickier.

'hi daddy, what's up?'

'uh, nothing much. but i am in the carson pirie scott for the last two hours looking for a dress for your mother. i can't find anything good!'

'a dress? dad, she's not really into dresses, you know.'

'yes she is. i remember way back she always wore dresses.'

'uh, i think the important words in that sentence are 'way' and 'back' dad.'

'ugh! this is so annoying! i think i'm just going to get her some perfume. hmph!'

'no! we just got her some for christmas; how much perfume does she need? why don't you ask somebody in the store?'

'they're not helpful!' they're just sitting there behind the cash registers and they say 'the dresses are across that aisle.' they don't help you!'

'okay. how about some work clothes? she doesn't have enough work clothes. she needs some nice dress socks to go with her new brown shoes... no, how about a nice sweater?'

'cadiz. i just WASTED two hours and i had to come out of that store to call you because there's no reception in there! now i have to go back in?!'

'daddy, take a deep breath. it'll be okay. just go in there and get a sweater. but remember, she doesn't like turtlenecks.'

'okay, then what kind of necks? v-necks? round? i dont' know anything about ladies' clothing!'

'any one of those is okay. just no turtlenecks; she says they choke her. and not anything too thick-- she gets hot at her office.'

'buttons? is buttons in the front okay?'

'yes. that's good.'

'what colors?'

'oh god, daddy! just pick something nice!'

'she's not going to like it. she always says, 'that's too big,' or 'i don't like that style,' or 'i already have that color. this is why i don't do this. gifts are not my department.'

'see? this is what i have to do every holiday. but you know what? you're getting her something with love. just get a receipt and if she doesn't like it, she can exchange it for something else.'

'yeah! then i don't have to come back to this place! okay, i'm going back in.'

'good luck.'

i'm praying that she likes the burgundy buttonup sweater it took him another two hours to decide on.

breezy, cheesy

today i stopped to get gas on the way to work and while i was waiting, the wind almost blew me away. i'm not even joking; i had to sort of put my foot against the pump stand thing and stand at a weird angle to block it. the weather guy said downstate set a record of 107-mph winds (the previous record was 81 mph). i can imagine small children traveling like tumbleweed and parents trying to tether them down.

when i was walking into the dungeon-- flying in, the wind was at my back-- the security guard gave me the key to the office per usual:

'hey there, didn't think you were still on this shift.'

'yeap. a couple more weeks. geez, it is really windy out there!'

'sure is. do you know why they call chicago the 'windy city'?'

'yeah, because back in the day of the infamous chicago political machine, some newspaper writer from out of town came here and called it the 'windy city' because of all the blowhard politicians who were just full of hot air.' (i stayed at a fancy hotel downtown a couple years ago and the in-house channel had all these facts about chicago that were so damn captivating that i wasn't even tempted to switch over to cable for about 1/2 an hour.)

'nope. that's not why.'

'uh, YES it is.'

'no, it's not. the reason chicago is the windy city is because wisconsin sucks and indiana blows.'

'har har. see you later.'

housewarming

today i went to my friend from college j's housewarming. it's a beautiful place overlooking the lake, decorated in part by his lovely girlfriend. my roommate from college, pp, and her boyfriend were there, as were a lot of j's family and other friends.

it's amazing that we used to party with some of these people back in the day. late-night bashes in dark, dingy clubs or houses, sipping jungle juice out of plastic cups and jamming to bass-heavy music. these days, parties where i see them are usually during the day, in people's living rooms or back yards; we're chomping on burgers or potato salad off of plastic plates and the tv or radio is drowned out by the sound of playing kids.

amazing. it's only been a couple of years.

a was there. true to form, he brought his wife and baby boy and his daughter from before, who is probably about 6 or so. there were a few other kids, too, and they were running around, doing somersaults and giving 'the tour' (which was always a riot. they loved the part about showing people how j has a television in his bathroom).

i spent a lot of time watching the kids. not that they needed more supervision, but they were just so watchable. i was catching up with pp, but i couldn't stop looking over at the little ones. it was really amazing to look at a's son, who can't be even a year old, and see a's direct gaze, his same nose, and that cute tiny mouth, which he couldn't seem to keep closed.

and three of the little girls were playing 'concentration' with their aunt. you know, you clap the rhythm and at the pause someone has to say something in the pattern? so the aunt is like, 'okay, let's do p's!' and she says [clap clap]'purple!' and these little children are coming up with words like [clap clap]'pleasant!' and [clap clap]'platinum!' that just blew my mind. did i know words like that at that age?

at the end of the afternoon, i was stuffing my face with mini lumpia (j's girlfriend is filipina) and kabobs, trying to distract myself from the fact that i had to leave for work. a's daughter started crying when she saw her mom, who had come to get her. because she was having a good time and didn't want to leave. i mean, she was really crying. and nothing would console her until pp suggested she show her mom the tv in the bathroom. worked like a charm.

i was still smiling about those kids when i was trying to pay attention at my meeting later on in the evening. and then someone was talking about did you hear, a ten-year-old was caught by a stray bullet yesterday in her own home. again. yeah, not too far from where the 14-year-old girl getting ready for school was shot last week by a guy looking for his girlfriend's ex with a high-caliber rifle converted to fully automatic so that he could spray the entire block with 29 rounds in a matter of seconds. but this little girl was at her own birthday party. there were thirty kids in there, running around, yelling and tagging and playing concentration and somersaulting and pin-the-tail-on-the-donkeying or whatever it is that kids do at birthday parties these days. an aunt saw a car drive by slowly and open fire, and managed to get everyone down. but the little birthday girl, who would have been 11 on monday, panicked and stood up real quick to try and make a run for the back room when a bullet caught the back of her head. they didn't even get to cut the cake. both of those girls died.

i feel sick.

we don't need no water

it's 7:59 a.m. on a saturday morning. i am in the middle of the deepest part of REM slumber (remember 8 a.m. for me = 2 a.m. for the rest of you 9-to-5-ers). at precisely 8 a.m., there is one hell of a ruckus coming from six feet above my head. hammers. heavy boots. stacks of shingles. i wake with a start-- convinced that any second the ceiling's gonna crumble down on top of me and some heavy guy in a toolbelt is going to land on me and crack my spine in fourteen places.

i had been aware we were getting our roof done this morning. i had even tried to go to bed early, but only managed to fall asleep a little after 4 a.m. so i'm not as irritated as i could have been, but still really tired. so i sneak down to the spare room a few floors down and snuggle into the musty covers that are clean but don't get used often, hoping to fall back asleep. from there it just sounds like 400 gym shoes clunking around in a gigantic clothes dryer.

i'm asleep in minutes.

not even enough time for vegas

'can't wait to see you at your housewarming! is it true a's gonna be there too?'

'well that's what he said, but the proof is in the pudding, as Cosby used to say. but then you could meet his wife and his son, too.'

'he's MARRIED!?? how's his other kid(s?) doing? are they in chi or st. louis?'

'he was in Chi a few months ago, and he went out to lunch with me and my girl. i noticed he was wearing a ring, and i said jokingly, what, you're married now? he said, yeah man. i was like, yo, how come you didn't invite me to the wedding? he said, oh, cause i got married on my lunch break.

i couldn't make that up if i tried.'

'that is priceless.'

i need to go back to kindergarten

about halfway through my shift last night, i'm standing in the center of a sea of cubicles -- none of which are higher than my waist, mind you -- talking to a colleague about the project for the night. the woman who swaps books with me walks past, pauses, and comes back toward us. she reaches behind me and pulls on the tag of my sweater. it seems i've come to work with my sweater on inside-out. she laughs and everyone looks up. god only knows what kind of connotations that gives people. oh well. i just shrugged my shoulders and kept working.

however, i probably should look into getting some flashcards on how to dress myself.

a little envelope of sunshine

last week was a really bad one. like one of the worst weeks. in years.

i'm not even kidding. you know when you're having a rough day and every single second you're wishing you hadn't really woken up that morning and if you could, you'd pinch yourself right out of this nightmare and get to start over? well that was me. EVERY DAY. ALL WEEK. it was so bad that even i was like, DUDE, that's enough already. what the hell kind of horrible thing have i done to deserve this? seriously. SERIOUSLY!

but then it was over. sort of like a freak rainstorm you get caught in without even a newspaper to hide under. how did i know it was over? last friday, i opened the mailbox and found a letter from my college roommate, who doesn't live terribly far, but whom i get to see about 1/100 of the time i'd like to. she'd been cleaning out some stuff at her mom's house that weekend and found a list she'd written in 1999. 21 things about me. why i'm so cool. she had intended to do something with it for my 21st birthday, but it didn't happen for whatever reason. anyway, holding it in my hands was insurance that the week to come just couldn't possibly be as bad as the last.

i won't go into the whole list, but here are some highlights:

3. great facial expressions
5. girl can take a nap, anytime, anywhere
9. she amuses me with her sleeptalking
12. she's always ready & willing to take a study break
13. she can sleep through anything
14. her spotted tongue (sorry, no visual aid available.)
18. she's always prepared. (food, drugs, tampons, she has it all.)

some of that stuff on the list i had totally forgotten we used to do. reading it got me laughing again, which had seemed nearly impossible after all the crap i had been dealing with. honestly, it's little things that people do for you that truly make you value your own worth. most of the time it's no big deal to them and they don't often realize how much it means to you.

thanks, girl. your timing has always been impeccable.

milestone

so here it is: the post commemorating one year of do they read obituaries in hell?. i wish i were clever enough to come up with a sturdy thread to justify a post-montage in the style of how sitcoms do it when they're short on material/actors/budget/time -- you know the ones: they clip together all of Clair's birthday celebrations on Cosby ('when i was mom's age, lettuce cost fifteen cents!') or when they put together snippets on Friends about how it was that monica and chandler ended up together ('oooh! but do they know that we know that they know that we know?!'). but i'm not. at least right now.

so i'll keep it simple.

i work nights. and erratic days/hours. it could be that one day i start at 1 p.m., the next: 6 p.m., the next: 4:30 p.m., and so it goes. and sometimes i'm out in the dungeon till 3 a.m. in an office. by myself. in the middle of nowhere. waiting for reports. so it really has been a blessing to stumble onto your blogs and have people stop by and leave comments about my own ramblings. and it's great that even though i don't get to talk to my friends or see them nearly as much as i'd like, they can check in and make sure that i'm still haven't lost my edge (which i sincerely hope i haven't, because that and my ability to curse people with my tongue are my claims to fame).

last year at this time i was nursing a broken heart and trying to get acclimated to this crazy schedule and the long commute that it requires. and the parking, oh the parking! and while i'm still not used to the hours, the heart's in better shape and i've discovered some cool people and even met a few of them in real life.

so thanks for reading, peeps. a special shout-out to Ale, Jon, Jazz and Omar for being around since nearly the beginning and still somehow finding their way back over here today.

and because i really can't help myself-- and mostly because the reports are going to be late and i'm pretty bored-- i think i will go ahead and throw together a few snippets of some of the things i've been through here in the last year:

"just what i need. to be stranded out on the expressway in the middle of the night/day when there is no one free to come and rescue my sorry ass. i should really invest in AAA membership." (that was the first post and i still haven't signed up for AAA.)

"i CANNOT gather the strength to do much more than watch old school reruns, pbs cartoons or talk shows before i have to go to work."

"oh damn you, starbucks!
how you lure me from afar --
just across the street"

"i was like 'please don't turn around, please don't turn around' until i got to the corner. but of course, what did he do? turned around. and STARED. like a really creepy, i'm-going-to-wait-for-you here and drag you into the closet where i keep my highly noxious-fumed cleaning products."

"* show your friend the hallway you have made a point to routinely walk through in hopes of running into the guy you like who lives there. as you pass by, some other person walking behind you turns to go into your guy's room after hearing your entire conversation. it's his roommate."

"i'll bet this chick comes back to me for some kind of recommendation in about 4 years. maybe i'll tell her, 'sorry, i'm going to cancun for spring break.'"

"and besides, i do not recall even one time when my shoelaces got stuck in the Sit'n Spin because they came untied."

"and he said, 'of course.' what i meant was 'of course you'll come with me in a cab to my car and make sure i get in it safely because it's really late and i parked under a bridge, right?' but that's not technically what i said."

"i was glued to tv at friends' houses. and it didn't matter what was on -- one time i even watched golf, just to partake in the fobidden fruit. but i never realized just how much of a the deficiency i had until i graduated high school. some kids with overprotective parents get to college and start boozing and whoring around. i sat in the dorm room and watched the mtv music awards about five times in succession."

"i think i've developed an immunity.
to my deodorant.
again."

"under the joy of tungsten or fluorescent lights, i'm basking in unicolor, but in the daylight, i'm rocking a khaki/white-purple cow print."

"now the spirit of blood donation is one of giving, helping, sharing life with someone who may be going through a difficult time. WHY THE HELL DO THEY HAVE TO MAKE IT SUCH A F-ING PAIN IN THE ASS?"

"It was just as bad as has always been. And it still makes me suck in my breath. Like I’m seeing a piece of my own heart strapped down to the bed with 15 tubes coming out of every place not covered by a blanket. Even in his complete state of intubated ignorance, the kid was still trying to communicate: mouthing to us that he loved us, asking that the important people in his life knew it, too, and thanking us for being there. He even gestured to the nurse for a pen and paper though he didn’t have the strength to wrap his fingers around them and his eyes were still too swollen to see."

"to date, the best compliment i had gotten from her was, 'okay. your family won't starve.'"

"this guy's never going to log on again. he'll never have the chance to get an ego boost from the number of times his profile has been viewed since the beginning of the month."

"hiccups kill my street cred."

"62) i abhor my middle name. my favorite day is thursday and my favorite coin is the dime. of these things there has been absolutely no doubt since i can remember, any other favorites fluctuate constantly."

"maybe because for so long i had been doing nothing but feel. i might have overdosed. it's odd. to have the niagara falls of emotions falling out of you for so long, only to have it dried up on the day you were expecting to drown."

"usually i need a little bit of company when i'm by myself for many hours, but i don't think i thought about it for more than a second during that whole time. CC peeked out at me from backstage and later said i looked like a kid who was at the movies for the first time. i was riveted."

"this evening i was trying to get through my shift, but i couldn't concentrate on anything because a lineup of snackfoods were parading through my mind, enticing me, but not well enough that i'd want to eat any."

"i got into reading and even closed my eyes for a tiny nap when suddenly i hear, 'dude, someone took our seats! i guess we'll have to sit here,' coming from right behind me! holy chainsaws, i thought i was going to lose it."

"miss daisy duke has nice legs, but honestly not much of a booty. that probably speaks to how our image of what's attractive on a woman has evolved over the years, too. and for that i must say, 'thank you, jennifer lopez.'"

"you can only soak up so many boxes of kleenex before the pity party gets played out."

" 'let me tell you something, guy. NO girl likes being touched by a strange man, especially in that manner! what a crock of crap, 'i thought she'd like it.' you know, you give [shared ethnicity] a bad name! keep your damn hands to yourself!' "

"so next time you happen to hear me say, 'dude, i really could use some caffeine,' i think you should stand in front of me, put your hands on my shoulders, look me straight in the eye and, in a firm and clear voice, yell at the top of your lungs, 'NO FREAKING WAY.'"

" * the best hostesses know the first thing to get for a guest is a drink"

"let's not even get started on my rap-along skills ('mumblemumblemumble, uh, um... WOW HOW NOW, WOWHOWNOWBROWNCOW!')"

"but what i really detest more than all the rest is shopping for pants. seriously, it SUCKS."

"i'm supposed to be cheery and chatty and not annoyed that someone wants to know how i'm doing. i don't want to be like those ugly old people who yell at the kids who disturb their gardenias by letting the kickball fly into their yard. well, at least not for another fifty years."

"and on top of that, all four of them had matching annoying little oldschoolpajamatype sleeping hats -- you know, the ones that have the long tail that ends in a poufy pom pom? -- WITH STRIPES. it was like a freaking Gap commercial right there in the parking lot!"

"but inside i was thinking to myself, 'damn, i hope i have that much fun when i'm fifty.' "

"she was meticulous and thorough, which are great qualities to have when you're shopping. but not when you're in an underwear store with your ten-year-old son."

"and it all started because of that damn two-dollar brownie. but i have no regrets. that thing was really good."

"who says the sparkle in your life has to come from a diamond? i'm rocking some boring silver earrings i bought at Claire's Boutique in 1997 for ten bucks."

"maybe it's just a cost-effective measure: remove any absolutely unecessary letters and save some cash? dude, pat sajak and vanna white want their little wheel of fortune charge-for-vowels trick back."

much love

to three very special people who have always treated me like one of their own. i love you guys.

can't even stop for directions

ever get the feeling that you're desperately running, trying to get somewhere very important, but have no idea in which direction you're supposed to go; and even though you're huffing and puffing and sweating like a pig, most of the fatigue is from the constant searching for some sign of familiarity, some sort of signal that you're going the right way, that you've guessed correctly and congratulations, now you can finally slow down and take a freaking break, but you're petrified that you'll fly right past that essential turn; in fact, what if maybe all this time you've been running in circles and aren't actually going anywhere and you'll keep doing it until one day your heart just gives out and it'll only ever be over when you fall down and die, but you'll have no idea when it's coming until right that second when it up and happens?

yeah. me too.