While driving home in the pouring rain this evening, I encountered this sign on the side of the road: "Caution Wet Pavement". Gosh.
My skin has never been very thick, alabaster, baby-bottom soft, or really any other flattering term, but when faced with the imminent possibility of having it flay itself off my body, I've begun to appreciate it a lot more.
Saturday afternoon United flight 944 will be whisking me away to Frankfurt, Germany. "This is such a bad idea" were, I believe, the words that came out of my mouth when my professor handed me my plane tickets. Important things tends to lose themselves once in my possession. Past items include: my purse, my purse again, my driver's licence multiple times, $25, shoes, and pretty much any piece of jewlery bestowed upon me.
Playing nursemaid is not my calling. Sick people freak me out, not to mention the sound of other people throwing up makes me queasy as well. Offering chicken noodle soup is about the best I can muster, even though I know that nausea isn't the best appetite whetter.
Phrases that annoy me:
"I could care less"
"ain't got" or "got no" or, God forbid, "ain't got no"
Tally ho! Scones, Benny Hill, Big Ben, yellow teeth and all that!
The novelty of not having to wear pants while playing my music as loudly as I can stand is somewhat subdued by the fact that sleeping alone in an otherwise empty apartment is pretty lonely and slightly unnerving.
I was listening to the radio today and it seemed that every song I heard on my way to work was themed around "living in the moment", or at the very least "stop worrying about the past". I'm usually pretty good at adhering to these philosophies on the smiling, wiggly outside, but it doesn't stop me from biting my nails off and tossing and turning in bed.
Things Currently Worrying Me:
-Money for Berlin
Things Currently Exciting Me:
-1 day until Thanksgiving
-2 days until the MSBE (Martin Sister Birthday Extravaganza)
-9 days until Linda's birthday
-10 days until I fly away
-21 days until I'm 21
-27 days until I fly back
-33 days until Christmas
-40 days until 2007
-41 days until Winter Term
Someday you will find me caught beneath the landslide
It's always easy to tell when I'm really stressed out, because all my blogs get silmultaneously updated in a burst of procrastination. Currently I'm procrastinating on getting dressed and going to Sears Optical, because setting foot in that place and purchasing new glasses will make the fact that I'm a money-wasting idiot a reality. My opinion of myself is really rather fragile, and it seems important that I lie to myself for a little while longer.
Only 7 days left in this school term. Which, on one hand, means that in a week I'll be mostly free from school obligations until January, but on the other hand means that I have 7 days to write two 5-page papers, a 10-page paper, finish a TV news wrap, and write/create/produce a 10 minute radio drama. Plus actual final tests as well as working every day. Goodbye friends, goodbye Boy, goodbye family, goodbye TV, goodbye sleep. Hello panic.
Of course, as usual, I'm approaching both these situations with my usual calm demeanor, telling myself "things will work themselves out, they always do", and crossing my fingers that I will stumble upon the magical balance of finding time to not fail school and earn enough money so I can make rent/bill payments for the next two months.
If anyone ever tells you to go take 20 days off work to spend an undetermined large amount of money in a foreign country, make sure you take the time to figure out if having a negative income for 20 days won't cripple you financially. I'm lucky enough to have parents who don't want to see me struggle through life, and lucky enough to have a soft enough conscience that I'll let them help me out, but the guilt and worry is still ever present.
It's too bad they don't make chalky-fruity tablets for the kind of stomach ache that worry/guilt/disappointment/stress cause. I'd live off those.
Just you and me eating fudge banana swirl. Just you and me, we'll travel round the world. Just you and me punk rock girl
When I listen to music there's a few very specific categories a song can fall into. It will a) remind me about a very specific person, b) remind me about a very specific event, c) invoke a particular feeling, d) make me wish this song reminded someone else of me, or e) evoke no particular response. Category (d) is either somewhat selfish, wishful thinking, or just plain bizarre on some level. I equate it to some girls having a song already chosen for their wedding, perhaps hoping that one day this song will remind their future fiancee of their love.
The other night at B-Dubs over a festive meal of boneless wings and chicken quesadillas, "Punk Rock Girl" by the Dead Milkmen came over the speakers. This song falls into category (d) under the more specific classification of "wishful thinking". I'm hardly punk-rock, let alone apt to commit grand theft: auto, declare a state of anarchy at a pizza joint, or lecture record store employees about their selection (unless it is lacking the illustrious LBC, of course), and yet I would always secretly hope that if the Boy heard this song, he would think me awesome enough to be comparable to the Punk Rock Girl of this song. Whilst munching upon a moderately spicy boneless wing, I was informed that "Punk Rock Girl" makes said Boy think of me.
I was giddy beyond mere words, let me tell you.
And yet, with this illumination, my sense of self-identity became just a touch more blurry as I contemplated the fact that I am reminiscent of a fictional punk-rock girl whom I feel bears no resemblance to myself. The more I find myself placed into clear descriptors (Punk Rock Girl, captain of "team nice", sudden speech phenom) the more confused I get, since I see no markings of said classifications within myself. I used to be very sure of who I was, where I stood with everything, my opinions on just about every subject, and how I presented myself to the world, but suddenly my inner self is in conflict with my (seemingly dynamic) outer self. I'm perplexed and a little lost, to be honest.
Maybe this is just the backdraft of being so busy that I haven't had a day free of obligations since September 11th. When my activities and schedule begin to define me, the less tangible aspects begin to fade in importance. Intriguing theory, CB.
We're always sleeping in and sleeping for the wrong team
God must be looking out for my best interests via the internet, because this is the 4th time an entry or post or message of sorts has been lost among the wires and radio signals. On the bright side, I get to let my worries and emotions fester for a little while longer. Thanks, Jesus.
I have lost all motivation to do, well, anything. I just sort of want to lay in bed, read Harry Potter, and watch Gilmore Girls, concurrently if I could make that happen. School work is happening later and later than it really should. I completed a radio production project a mere 3 hours before it was due, a feat I might actually be attempting again later tonight, as lethargy has set upon me and nothing sounds more appealing right now than napping and trying to rid myself of this headache.