c'mon miracle!

jazztastic

2006-04-06T00:38:00.000-05:00

Don't worry, I'm back now.

It's just that I've been so busy. Yeah, I know. Lame.

It's not like anything especially exciting happened during the time I was away. I've been reading, working, or hanging with my "buddy." Well, I don't know what else to call him... But we did fly some kites on Monday. An unexpected date. I love it when someone calls you and asks if you want to go fly kites. Flying 74 cent kites from Osco in Lake Park is priceless. Besides, I got a homemade dinner out of the deal too. Was better than doing homework.

I'm not sure what it is about spring, but every year around this time I found myself listening to a lot of jazz. Last night it was Eric Dolphy, today it was Thelonious Monk, right now Coltrane/Monk live at Carnegie Hall. It's fantastic, and I'm not even stoned... I remember when I lived in that little apartment in Eau Claire, waiting for spring, listening to Thelonious Monk for the first time (stoned out of my mind of course, but I was on the pot a lot then) and becoming one with my futon. Then after I came out of the initial daze I would write and write and write. I was in a creative writing course that semester because I had to be. I couldn't imagine technical writing being in any way intriguing. So I took this course and it opened some portal in me that was unaware of any writing capabilities at all. I still don't fancy myself as a writer really, only if the mood strikes me, if I have time, and so on. I'm really interested to see what will happen to all of that when I leave the country for a year. Maybe I'll be inspired to write the great American expatriate novel. However, this is not particularly likely.

So I've been thinking about an ipod. I really actually need one now that I'm leaving the country for a year. I can't possibly lug along my large collection of music, unless that music is contained in the small, sleek, little ipod that everyone and their brother seem to own. What's the deal with the new video ipod anyway? I just want a regular one. Do I get the 60GB or the 30GB? I'm not sure. I might need to consult those who own them already. Feel free to add some input to this post.

I need to be productive now. Hopefully it's won't be another month before I post again...

dreamland is not a friendly place

2006-03-06T01:05:00.000-06:00

More often than not I experience peaceful dreamless sleep. However, for the past few nights it has been anything but peaceful and or dreamless. Recently I've had to pull myself from my dreaming only to become awake and think, "What the fuck was that?!"

Bad Dream #1:
I get a phone call from my grandma's husband Ed. He wants me to come over and play some cards, however I was really busy with a paper and I told him I wouldn't be able to make it over because of all the work I had. He didn't seem to think anything of it. The next thing I know I'm going over to my Grandmother's old house with my brother to visit. We walk around the house with her and Ed, she's all dressed up and she's showing us her garden and then she says that this is her last day on earth and that she will die tomorrow. For certain. While we are all sitting and conversing in the living room, Ed says something about knowing that she would die yesterday when he called me, that he only read to her for a half hour that day. I became angry at him saying that if he had bothered to tell me that she was DYING I would have come no matter what. Then my grandma mutters something about how it is okay, that it doesn't matter because I'm there on her last day anyhow. I wake up.

Bad Dream #2:
I'm working in a restaurant. Someone gives up their table and I have to take it. The order is already put in and I'm waiting for it. And I'm waiting FOREVER. I'm standing in the window and I'm staring at Mike Hawes (real life cook at the Chancery in my waking life) just willing him to put the order in the window and when he finally does, he fucks it up on purpose just because I somehow pissed him off. I am frantic, trying to fix the plate and then the other plate is getting cold so I put it in the microwave. It gets even more messed up. After I put together a somewhat decent looking plate, I take the orders out to the table. The people are gone, they left! Meanwhile all of my tables are sat and nobody told me and the people are all staring at me. I go back into the kitchen and then the manager comes out and is like "Karlie, we need to have a little chat." I wake up.

Bad Dream #3
I'm standing with Doug in my Grandma's old house in the living room, where we often used to watch planes come in for a landing. We are watching a plane when it suddenly drops down and I thought "the plane is going to crash" and of course it did. Birds came flying from the scene there was a strange flash of light. Suddenly we are at the airport with a bunch of other friends of ours. We got close to the scene of the crash were there were obvious fatalities, I began to cry when I thought about all the indivdual lives on the plane, but then a rescue worker comes out of the plane holding up a baby who is alive. People start clapping and rejoicing. There are other survivors too. We all walk away from the scene and come across a firefighter training area. All of a sudden the next thing I know is that we are required to do this training for work. In case the kitchen starts on fire. I wake up.

What the hell was that all about?

I'm of the school that thinks that dreams are relevant to waking life. I can imagine what they mean to me now.

The first dream as disturbing as it was, concerns my guilt about not spending enough time with my grandmother and feeling like a bad grandchild in general. I'm probably the one that lives closest to her and yet sees her the least. You can bet that I called her that day after having that dream. We are presently planning to go to lunch on Wednesday.

The second dream is just a stupid and typical restaurant dream. If you work in a restaurant you've probably had similar ones. Although I've never been fired at the end of one.

The third dream is tricky. I think it has to do with some personal issues with relationships and my ability to have confidence in them getting off the ground so to speak. The crying was the letting out of fears and frustrations. That baby could represent a new beginning though. As for the firefighting....I'm not sure. The hose I remember, that's usually something sexual...or it could be about cleansing....

I wish I were able to do more lucid dreaming. They only become lucid near the end, I usually wake myself up. Especially the one about grandma. I was really upset after that one and had a hard time going back to sleep.

I'm going to bed now. I hope there are no more dreams like those. Why can't I have a nice dream about puppies or kitties, frolicking in open fields with blue skies and bubbles, with lollypops and ponies? Even better, unicorns. Or norwahls. Why can't I have a dream about swimming with norwhals?

good times...and what have you

2006-03-04T13:16:00.000-06:00

There are reasons why work is bearable and I've decided that it's only because of the people I work with.

Last night after a surprisingly busy night at the restaurant, most of the second shift serving staff decided to meet out for a drink at some place called the Red Dot, which is a pretty quaint little corner bar in my neighborhood. What started off as an innocent evening turned into one that was not.

Poor Sandy has been put out of commission for a couple weeks now and will be for several more after dislocating her knee. She was feeling a bit stir crazy last night and wanted to try and leave her house. So I went over there and put her sock on, helped her down the stairs and into my car with her crutches. The battle was not going down the stairs so much as going up. There is a small staircase at the bar we went to, but with one arm around my shoulder while I carried the crutches and the other on the railing, we made it up safely without anyone opening the door and knocking us over with it.

We had a decent group of people meet us there and everyone was excited that the gimp had made it out to the bar. Luckily she didn't take her meds that day so she could drink without getting totally messed up. After awhile the party got moved to this crazy house party at some Rumanian guy's place. I'm not really sure who knew whom, and how it was cool that we all showed up at this dude's place, but know one really cared.

The place was tiny and people were dancing to really bad music and half of them were German.

Based on the people I met though, I've decided that Germans are nice, well at least these Germans were. Super nice, despite the fact that they obviously loved bad club music. Then again, they could have been really drunk. Which I'm pretty sure they were, most of them anyway. I met three girls who were all au pairs here in Wisconsin. They were so excited when I told them that I was going to Germany to be an au pair. While I was talking to one girl named Pia, her friend stumbled into the room and she said something to Pia in German (about me moving to their homeland) and then her friend got excited about it. So I'd given out my email to a couple of them and Pia gave me hers and says she would like to hear from me.

Meanwhile Sandy and Kimberly are were getting wasted off some horrible gin and lemonade concoction that was mostly gin. I was practically sober. Jon managed to try and hook up with a mini version of Heidi Klum and then suffered (where I quote) "the biggest pair of blue balls ever!" when she was taken away by her friends after she said she was going to give him great pleasure upstairs.

So I took Kimberly back to her car only because she insisted that she could drive (which I'm not sure she should of) and had to go to work the next day. The dudes in my car, Jon and his friend whose name I don't recall, wanted to go to McDonald's. When they find out that they don't have the regular menu and that it's only breakfast, they don't want it anymore. Sandy ordered a breakfast sandwich and then after waiting forever decided she didn't want it and they wanted me to ditch out . I didn't want to. I said I'd feel bad. Jon's like "Feel bad for what? Ditching out on a $3 breakfast sandwich? It's McDonald's, a billion dollar corporation...blah blah blah" I decided I would just rather leave than catch hell about being a square. Apparently that wasn't cool either because my ditching efforts didn't include laying on the horn and whipping the finger as I drove out the exit.

The night was over at 4 am. After I dropped everyone off and helped Sandy as a human crutch up to her apartment. I'm just glad I didn't dress up last night and wear boots or something. It might have been a catastrophe.

Working at that restaurant is like being part of a community. It's still us against the man most of the time, there's drama between people a lot, but it can't be helped. However it's different than other places I've worked. I like most of these people. Hanging out aside from being at work brings a certain camaraderie or alcoholism....It's good.

waiting for the sickness.

2006-02-27T18:44:00.000-06:00

Everyone around me is already sick or are in the process of getting that way.

I am trying not to be like everyone.

I just ate a bowl of broccoli, downed a huge glass of orange juice, took some vitamins, and am now drinking some green tea. The last thing I need is to get this nasty flu thing that is going around. Yuck.

Fat chance that I'll actually get away with out contracting any illness. Timmi, the living dead, is currently hacking her germs up all over the apartment. I need to buy some lysol. I told her she has to stay in the living room with the TV because I think the germs might die in there because it is usually so cold. As long as she stays huddled under the blanket and watches some of The Price is Right, she'll be on her way to recovery in no time. I need to get some real sleep tonight. I need to prepare my body to ward off evil germ invaders. I cannot afford to get sick.

I hate winter.

when the days are long and the nights are even longer.

2006-02-20T01:30:00.000-06:00

I believe that it is universally known that the minute your life sorts itself out in one area, the other goes straight to the shitter.

I need to acknowledge the fact that school is seriously kicking my ass this semester. I knew it would be difficult, but maybe I just wasn't ready for the workload. Admittedly, I am only taking 9 credits. I actually got laughed at the other day because when I mentioned that school was kicking my ass, a classmate asked how many credits I was taking, I told him and he laughed at me. Jerkoff. He's supercool because he's taking 18. F-that. I'm pretty sure that he doesn't work full time either. Asshole probably doesn't even have a job.

Anyway...6 of my 9 credits are very challenging. I am constantly writing papers, or working, or drinking it seems like. I'm begining to feel like shit about hardly ever seeing or talking to any of my friends, that is unless I live or work with them.

Luckily I had the chance to go out with both Blythe and Raina last night and I had a great time. How could a lesbian drag show not be a good time? Though it was FREEZING outside, I think the most fun was riding in my piece of crap car blasting Le Tigre while Blythe and I sang along and Raina tried to impersonate the police with a red and blue flashy device in my backseat. Good times indeed.

Other than feeling shitty about school and work, I am feeling little short of ecstatic about hanging out with a certain person. So nice. He makes me smile.

Don't worry, I won't bore you with the details.

Well kids, it's time for bed. I have to finish a lovely critical summary paper in the morning, jet over to the library to check out Edward the Second and read the begining of it before class, and also try and decipher a few more Adrienne Rich poems for my first class. Not to mention, somehow fit that last minute studying in for my earth science exam tomorrow afternoon. After all that, I get to go to work.

Bleh.

I should care.

2006-02-06T18:54:00.000-06:00

I am I am I am.

I am in existence...I think.

I feel like I'm hovering today. Between thought and reality. What reality am I living anyway? A kind of fog has moved in, a haze. I can't decipher if what I'm feeling is even real.

I don't know if it's my lack of decent sleep that's brought this on. Or maybe my overindulgence in drink lately. Maybe it was Thomas Pynchon. I don't know, but this kind of existence is an old friend. An old friend whose visits are not always invited, but whom I've come to tolerate and understand over the years.

Big changes are on the horizon. I've already made the decision, which is HUGE. For me. Now I just wait for it to happen. However I'm feeling a lot more anxious than I would have expected. I can imagine that that these anxieties will only grow in time.

I think I am doing the right thing.

Maybe I should drop some acid. LSD. Nothing like induced psychosis to find out what's really going on in there. As I've learned this week, "Breakdown is to breakthrough," is what RD Lang wrote in the 60s. But then again he ended up permanently crazy didn't he?

Okay. No acid.

But I will get to the bottom of this one way or another.

unplugged.

2006-02-01T14:32:00.000-06:00

So I have to admit that last post was a bit dramatic.

However it doesn't really change the way I feel about things much. There's still drama, though it has begun to subside.

I notice that I am feeling particularly numb today though. I think it is a culmination of things contributing to this newfound numbness. Too much reading, too much writing, too much thinking, too much drinking, too much drama, and defintely not enough sleep. It leaves a person feeling a bit drained. Shit.

I'm supposed to go to my parents house today and I really, really don't want to. However, I did tell them for the past three days that I would be coming, but I keep pushing it back because I've had so much shit going on lately, plus I didn't really want to take time to visit. I do have a giant bag of laundry in my backseat and it REALLY needs to get done. All I really want to do though is sit on my ass and watch some TV in our newly figured living room.

This semester is going to kick my ass. Did I mention that? I don't think I've read this much since...well since I don't know when. If it's not modern renaissance drama, critical theory, or historical documents, then it's some really depressing 20th century literature. A lovely time indeed.

I need a nap now.

Somebody popped my happy balloon.

2006-01-29T23:18:00.000-06:00

So I've been feeling a bit sorry for myself for the past few hours now. If you were me you'd feel sorry for yourself too, mostly because you wouldn't understand what just happened to you.

I really liked someone and it turned out that they in turn also liked me. We connected on so many different levels and I thought things were going great. In fact they WERE going great. Then we got high.

Now I've been on the pot for a long time now. I actually don't smoke as often as I once had, but every now and then it is good to do. But I have never experienced what happened when I smoked with said love-interest the other night. We got stoned and his neruosis kicked in full effect and he in short freaked out on me. He couldn't understand why I liked him. One of the questions followed by others. I knew he felt weird about acting weird and then asking numerous questions so I naturally tried to sympathize and ease his mind because I still felt the same about him I still liked him.

Then a funny thing happened. Within a day and a half he decided that he doesn't think he wants to see me romantically. FOR NO GOOD REASON.

You would think that there has to be at least one clear concise reason, but no, there is not. Thus my frustration and temporary depression ensued. His ill reasoned excuse is that he had a bad feeling. That he is neurotic.

I think that's crap. So I fired off questions to try and get a better understanding of what the hell this dude is thinking. This is way too early at the start of a relationship for this much drama, or a decision to end it before it even takes off the ground. The same night (while we were stoned even) he told me how I was so cool and how he thought I was "super fucking hot" and that he really liked that he could talk to me. I asked him if any of this had changed and he said no, that he was still attracted to me, thought I was great and how he found it easy to talk to me. Still baffled, I fought on.

As it turns out, the issue of my leaving the country in 7 months is probably the largest factor in all of this. I should have known. But still, he doesn't seem to be willing to leave this all behind and start over. He wants to be friends. Ha. I told him that this was unfair to me as it came completely out of nowhere, and how he was basically ruining a good thing before it even started because he was afraid. Afraid of being hurt, afraid of what might happen when I leave, afraid to experience something great. Honestly, I hadn't been that excited about someone in a long time. I mean genuinely fucking floored by another person. The strange thing is that I knew he was feeling the same thing too and all of a sudden this weird experience happens and he doesn't blame it on the pot, he doesn't blame it on me, he blames it on himself.

I'm sorry but, I DON'T UNDERSTAND. I DON'T GET IT!

So I'm feeling a bit sad now. I don't know what to do. If I should leave it alone, forget about it and move on, or try to draw him back out of his shell. We're supposed to hang out with "the gang" on Tuesday (only because he doesn't want to hang out with just me yet) and I'm sure it'll be awkward as ass, but I guess I'll do it anyway. I just want to find out what will happen.

Worst of all I cried on the phone. Yes, I fucking cried and I wasn't even mad at myself for doing it. Not like other guys I've known where you think they like the satisfaction it has given them to hear/see you shed tears on their account. I could tell he was upset at the fact that he made me cry over my shear frustration with the situation. "Imagine," I told him, "that you feel so happy and so wonderful about a person and what's best is that they feel the same about you. Then that same person for no apparent reason whatsoever tells you that they suddenly do not feel the same. How would that make you feel? Imagine this situation reversed."
"I would probably cry," he said, "God, I'm so sorry."
"Yeah well maybe you can understand why I'm a little bit confused right now."

And it went on like this.

I tried to reason. I tried to understand. But now I'm just feeling a bit bitter. It would be easy to understand if it were another girl in the picture, but there's not. This guy has not had an actual girlfriend to speak of, an actual relationship anyway, and I think I am begining to see why.

Timmi raised a valid point. Would I really want to continue to see this guy anyway if he is this neurotic? This type of thing could happen again. Even he mentioned this fact, that his tendencies might damage things between us. In any case, the guy needs some serious help. Like from doctors, counselors, whatever.

I feel like I've been kicked in the stomach. When just a few days ago I felt all those puppies squirming around in there. Someone just had to go and kill those little bastards.

All of this nonsense makes my head hurt.

Alles hat ein Ende, nur die Worst hat zwei.

2006-01-19T14:05:00.000-06:00

Roughly translated, that would mean "Everyting has an end; only the sausage has two."

That's right folks. I better start learning German because I'll be leaving the country for Hannover, Germany in August. I will be an au pair for 3 children. And yes, I am scared shitless.

Let me say this: It is time to move. If I did not take this opportunity I imagine that I would regret it later. It will be scary moving to a country where I don't even know the national language, but learning is a continual process, so I will learn to speak German. Needless to say, I'm sure it will be an adventure of its own.

I hope these kids like me. I'm a pretty likeable person I should think, but kids are often tricky. I hope that I'm creative and fun enough for these kids who rarely watch television. Therefore I'll need to regress back to backyard classics that Blythe and I invented in order to keep these kids entertained. Classics like "Middle of Nowhere" and "Don't Touch the Ground!" See, "Middle of Nowhere" was fun because we would pretend we were lost (in the middle of nowhere of course) and we would find mint leaves and chives and eat them, our only food sources. We would play this all day sometimes, coming up with random scenerios about how we would survive. However, I don't really remember how we were to have found ourselves in the middle of nowhere in the first place. Blythe do you remember? "Don't Touch the Ground!" was also fun because we'd pretend there was a lava pit beneath my playground and well, we couldn't touch the ground. I just realized how creative our titles were for these games we played, but it doesn't matter, the games themselves were fun and lasted for hours. I need to get back to thinking like a child would. What's fun for 5 and 8 year old girls? Do they even play with Barbies anymore? An even better question would be, would I be able to play with Barbies anymore without a perverted mind? After the age of 11, Barbie and Ken had a lot of sex. We didn't call her "Slut and Strut" Barbie for nothing.

I'm also concerned about German humor. I am told that it is not like ours or even British humor. That it takes years in fact to be able to understand and appreciate it. I also read that Germans and other Europeans look down upon unecessary smiling. That they see it as a sign of a weak mind. Is this all TRUE? I better not be giddy or unusually happy in public. Shit. I really don't want to be that stupid American that everyone can point out a mile away.

I suppose that a little bit of this worrying and concern comes unecessarily. I've gotten this book from the library about German culture so I can begin to accept this large a drastic change in my life. I'm not sure it's helping to ease my troubles, but rather adding some extra anxieties to my notions of German life and culture. I just need to suck it up. I can do this dammit!

Women and guitars.

2006-01-13T09:08:00.000-06:00

This break from school has afforded me an abundance of free thinking time. I've decided that this is not necessarily good nor is it necessarily bad. It's just driving me into some perverse realm of feeling insane. I believe this is just for the time being, at least I hope so anyway. I now know that I will be graduating, without a doubt, in the spring. All I can say is, good, thank god for that. By the end of this month, I should know more about what I might be doing after I graduate. All of these things have hit me like a brick wall. I shouldn't be surprised about any of this, but now I'm surprised that I'm surprised, know what I mean?

In any case, the men in my life are not making matters any simpler. I won't give them credit of being direct cause to my temporary feelings of insanity, however they can take pride in being the ones to amplify them. To a degree anyway.

Yesterday I hung out with Tom. I had abandoned the idea of ever carrying on with him again until he decided to finally call me back. It's strange. What used to be a big deal a little over 8 months ago has deflated to a not-so-very big deal. I am feeling less and less (not in every way ;P), so I think this is good. The weird thing was that while I was listening to all of his ex-girlfriend drama, I was not in the slightest jealous. Also good. In fact, I was really starting to feel bad for the guy. I think I am able to do this because my affections have been growing for somebody else.

Tom and I went guitar shopping. I basically drove his ass around, played counselor, and scoped out cute musicians at the stores we were at. Why? Because I'm nice. So Tom does a trade in at one place gets some money, we go to another store and he buys this acoustic he's been scoping out. Before we got to the store he was nervous, I mean really nervous, that someone may have already picked it up. However, the guitar was still there waiting for him.

Then a strange revelation of sorts. After hearing all of his drama I begin to understand why he was so anxious to get rid of one guitar and replace it. He admited even that guitars for him were similar to women. My reaction was to say "Well that's because you're an asshole and view women as objects." Then I realized the uncanny situation I was in. A guitar to this guy, and to many musicians, is not simply an object. Those who own guitars become attached to them, there are all sorts of sentiments clinging to this instrument. All are different, they each have a varying sound for those who have that acute hearing for it. But apparently sometimes these instruments have to be replaced for a better one. Perhaps a new and more exciting one. Or maybe one that sounds different, plays different. Or for that "dream" guitar they've always wanted, lusted after in fact. However, it seems that in every collection there is a favorite. One that will never be given up or traded in, the Martin.

I was appalled when I thought about this in the context of men, or Tom, in his relationships with women. I think this ex-girlfriend of his is the Martin. And where I stand in this bizarre parallel I'm still trying to figure out. I could be the little parlour guitar or the Larrivee on his wall, but I just might as well be the beater guitar that gets used all the time for dicking around on. Playing around with sounds. You know.

All of this thought was amusing. Amusing in a good way. For the longest time I was thinking about this guy in this deep complex sort of way. This simplifies things. Makes him a little more cut and dry. Suddenly I understand.

Do you SEE why I feel like I do? I mean really, who thinks about this shit? I just might be ready for the semester to start.

Christmas ends and New Year's Eve dread begins.

2005-12-29T14:18:00.000-06:00

I admit that I am failing miserably at this blogging idea. Several weeks have gone by without one blog so I figured that I need at least ONE date in December.

Hopefully everyone had a good Christmas. Or Holdiday. Or whatnot. I celebrated Christmas, or something like it.

Overall, Christmas was alright. I guess I can't deny that spending time with the family was actually somewhat entertaining this year. There were highlights of course. Like watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail with my dad and brother on Christmas Eve, this was probably the best (for more reasons than I will mention). Playing with my younger cousins who literally grow like weeds. I only see some of them a couple times a year and they always look completely different than the last time I remember seeing them. I really think I would miss Christmas if I'm out of the country for the next one. But this is a price I think I am willing to pay to get out of Wisconsin for awhile.

I have to admit. I'm not all that excited about celebrating the new year. I think New Year's Eve is extremely overrated. I'm seiously considering just getting drunk by myself while listening to loud music and dancing around in my underwear. I'm convinced that it would be just as fun if not more than paying some obscene cover to get into a overcrowded bar just to be dissapointed. At least dancing around in my undies with bottle of wine in hand would not dissappoint ME. I guess I will have to NOT dissappoint others and suck it up and go out, despite my feelings about it. I want them to have a good time too. I suppose I could offer up my idea and the possibility of others joining in, however, I believe we'd have to get drunk first in order to become pantsless.

Happy New Year bitches.

Hello, my name is Karlie, I will be your server...

2005-11-14T23:19:00.000-06:00

I really should be writing a paper right now. However, I choose not to.

So I've been working in the restaurant world for quite some time now and I've decided that I DO NOT want to make a career out of it. Many people enjoy the hustle bustle of a busy night, mostly because they look forward to making sweet cash money. And there is potential to make this money, it's out there, and we servers are hopeful that if we bust our asses, you the patron will leave us an nice tip. What is a nice tip you ask? 20% of the total check. That's right, 20. Unless of course your server is completely shitty, but I know I'm not a shitty server, so you should leave me 20%, thank you. I think the general public should know that servers in most restaurants only make a whopping $2.33 an hour, so basically, our income depends greatly upon the little somethin' somethin' you leave behind on the table.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a waiter or waitress for life. I imagine these people just love meeting and interacting with new people, even if it is just for a short while. These people are also VERY tolerant. For every nice person or good tip you get, there will be some asshole or really bad tip. Being a server, you almost never know what you're going to make. Right now, I am living paycheck to paycheck and it's not fun. I hate it.

I generally like people, but sometimes I am shocked and appalled by some individuals who are blantantly rude or even just downright mean. I haven't run into too many mean ones lately, however I encounter rude people on a daily basis. Perhaps the most aggrivating are the elderly. Not all of them, some of my very favorite people are elderly, however, no one can make me feel downright stupid as an old man or woman can. Tonight I got sat with three tables around the same time. All of there were old people. All of them needed to catch a movie or a play. Aggrivation insued. If it is one thing it's another. I need, I need, I need! Every blessed time I go back to the table, someone needs something else. If by chance I interrupt, I get a very scolding look. One of these tables even insulted my intelligence a bit, perhaps they did not mean it, but this couple were going to see "Goodnight and Good Luck" and the old man said in jest to his wife that I probably wouldn't know who McCarthy was (yeah, what would I know, I'm just a waitress). I just looked at him and said, "I know very well who McCarthy was, I do go to college you know." Then they both chant "Ohhhh," in unison, "that's good, that's good." Perhaps this old man was just pointing out his age, not meaning to insult my intelligence, however, it didn't feel like that to me. I had gotten this old gent the wrong wine, white zin instead of red zin, so he probably thought I was stupid, so after that, he and his wife would complement me on everything I did. Shortly after the wine incident, I brought them waters and they both blurt out "Oh good job!" in a very poo poo voice as if I were a puppy who finally got the hang of shitting outside. At least in their success of making me feel mentally disabled, they managed to leave 20%. The other tables also did fairly well with tipping, much to my surprise. Even after, "What's taking so long, we have somewhere to be at quarter after seven?!""Don't forget my box, okay!" and the confusing and time consuming duty of running four credit cards at the same time when there's only one machine and other servers also need to use it.

No, I do not want to live in a restaurant for my career. No I do not. However, I have learned what hard work is. Being a server is not easy, and it is definitely not for everyone. I will never tip badly, unless my service is shitty, and I will not date a bad tipper. I will graciously thank all of my servers. I will be an advocate for good tipping and help to get the word out to those who don't practice it.

Obviously, I should post more often.

2005-11-10T11:17:00.000-06:00

So it is November and today is the first day that it's actually FELT like November. The weather, though very nice, was starting to weird me out. I remember wearing my winter coat at the end of October in years past and lately I've been running outside in mere t-shirts. However, this morning I had the fleece and the Milwaukee County Parks knit hat on. The going was a bit slow and rough, but the cold air tearing up my lungs was satisfying in that "hey I got up early and actually went running" sort of way.

I'm feeling a bit slow as of late. Slow not only in thinking, but reacting. In all honesty, I'm not even sure that slow is the right word. Things are downshifting. A bit of a lull before something big happens. Big excitement? Big ideas? Big depression? I don't know. I haven't had much to say lately. I'm worried about not graduating in spring, but have yet to talk to an advisor. I'm worried about being broke, but have yet to demand more hours. I'm worried about having my heart broken, yet I keep proceeding with caution in that relationship. I'm worried about what the fuck I'm going to do with myself in the next year.

Maybe I shouldn't worry at all. I could always become a mailperson.

Happy Birthday to Me.

2005-10-19T00:29:00.000-05:00

There's nothing like a birthday that will make you feel, well, old.

For the most part it was a birthday. And I've decided that I no longer care for birthdays, anymore of mine that is. I understand that people are appalled when I say I feel old, for I am but a ripe and tender 23. However, I can't help feeling like something more spectacular should be happening, that I should be doing something great, while I'm still here, doing the same thing I've been doing.

Things aren't all that grim really. I did have a nice and somewhat strange dinner with friends on Sunday night. Various points of my spectrum of friends emerged to celebrate my day of birth. Needless to say it was interesting to host such a wide varity of people. Interesting and weird, but also good. Monday proved to be a bad day for a birthay afterall. I spent most of the day on my futon trying to catch up with the reading I should have had done. I was originally going to go to my parents house for some food and cake and then I got upset with my mother over the phone (for many undescribable reasons) and when she mentioned also that there was no such cake, I protested by not celebrating my birthday with them. I then immediately resented my brattish behavior because my dad was caught in the crossfire (per usual). He even offered to go out and get me a cake and I still declined. It wasn't about the cake really. At least not entirely, it merely added to my frustration with my mother. After those unpleasentries, I walked to the liquor store to buy wine. I drank it with Timmi and then went out to Foundation for "soul hole" Monday. It was a surprisingly good time. Some of Timmi's cohorts were there that I know and get along with and I danced with a Christina, who is really cute and was wearing a dead carcass for a scarf (it was actually a cool looking thing ) a gift from her stepmother, which she named "Fernando" in honour of the little animal that died for her so she could wear it as such. I got drunk. I danced. I still managed to get up for class this morning.

There are other things to discuss, but they will have to wait until another time my friends. Right now, it's bedtime.

You're going to hate yourself in the morning.

2005-09-28T11:04:00.000-05:00

My roommate is leaving for Spain.

We are back down to three in our humble abode. This past Tuesday, Timmi, Jared, and I went to the Riverhorse for Emily's going away bash. Needless to say I drank too much and it had adverse affects on my psyche. I started to feel bad about certain uncontrollable situations in my life, and like usual Timmi was there for damage control, feeding me leftover pizza and loaning me her precious childhood comfort, Littlefoot, the best stuffed dinosaur ever. Unfortunately, when these things happen I have to analyze why through a godawful headache the following morning.

Perhaps this is why I should not get drunk. Everything seems ten times worse than it actually is, I get overly emotional and feel like an asshole. Mostly because I know I'm going to feel stupid about it later on, and because it's a total downer to anyone trying to have a good time. I guess I figure that this problem I have with not knowing my place in life is magnified tenfold when alcohol is mixed in.

Unless I drink a plethra of booze in a rather short amount of time.

Then it's just a matter of passing out. No thinking involved there. This is what happened for Erin Petrus's 21st birthday extravaganza. I didn't get a chance to write about it before, but Jon Wrobel and I drove up to LaCrosse over a week ago for Erin's birthday. We got there at midnight and went directly to the bars. Let's just say Erin was somewhat intoxicated when we arrived, and by the end of the night she could have matched any sailor out there. Like a true champion, after an all night birthday party at the toilet bowl, Erin was still drunk in the morning, but disgusted with any liquor bottle in sight. I'm glad we went. It was nice to see Erin in her environment, growing and flourishing in the college atmosphere that has transformed her from shy, quiet, nice girl into the crazy, lovable, boozewhore that we always knew she was. Just kidding, Erin. You're not really a boozewhore and I love you. Happy Birthday.

In any case, perhaps I should declare a sabbatical from binge drinking. Not only for my sake, but for the sake of others who have to remain in my presence after the damage is done. I feel oddly bad about it after the fact. But my birthday is coming up soon, then Halloween. I just don't see how this is going to work.

What's really happening here?

2005-09-17T11:24:00.000-05:00

Sometimes people can surprise you.

Yesterday was by far one of the strangest days I've encountered in awhile. Strange in the good sense rather than the bad. The story begins like this:

Thursday night I decided that it was time to clean my room (a project still in progress) however, this time I started in my closet. I went through all of my clothes in order to 1. organize my shit and 2. give some clothes to Blythe who has moved back from Australia and is currently with very little (more about Blythe later). So nearing the end of this loathsome task I recieved a phone call from none other than Tom, a reoccuring glitch in the system called my life. Tom wanted to know what I was up to and perhaps would I like to join him for tea or something. Rather than complete my task at hand I took the opportunity to meet with him. I went to Tom's apartment not knowing (but having a vauge idea) of what to expect for the evening. Now Tom and I have a history that spans over 8 or 9 months. We've never actually "dated" but there is an affection of sorts between us. However, I tend to think that I like him a bit more than he likes me, which always makes for dissappointment. But in this story, I am surprised by our encounter.

His apartment still had its distinct, familiar smell that I had come to miss in our not coming together in the two or so months that we didn't see each other over the summer. I admire his living space. It is unique and filled with aging artifacts of folk Americana, complete with acoustic guitars and banjos hanging on the walls. We left the apartment to venture out on the town in search of a low cost good time, but the rain drove us right back in. As I sat there on his vintage sofa and drank my tea I began to detest him. I wasn't sure why I was there if not only to overanyalze the situation later. Eventually, when he wanted to get close to me, I confronted him about how things had been left between us a few months back. There was no real explination on the subject, only that he was reclusive and hadn't talked to anyone. Not much of an excuse, but I didn't feel that I wanted to press the issue here. I think he understood that it all upset me, so I think he was trying to make amends when he asked me to stay over. Not in any sort of other way than to stay over because he was "just glad that I was there."

So I did. I stayed. I don't know why. But as his word, nothing happened, we just slept. It was nice and by far the sweetest he's ever been towards me. In the morning he made me some french toast while we listened to NPR. Then I went to work late.

It was possibly the longest 4 hours I've worked. Definitely the most interesting. Andy stopped by after his shift and showed me his new guitar, some special little Gibson, I don't remember the model. He stuck around for awhile, however throughout our many random conversations he dropped several hints that leads me to believe that he must think of me in a differentlight than I would imagine. No doubt our relationship has been a strange one throughout the past few years, but he really must have a thing for me. I guess I always kind of knew, (and at one time kind of hoped) but this is what he finally said after 1. saying that I looked cute today, 2. proclaming his attraction to me through some roundabout conversation with a coworker. 3. jokingly saying that he would come and visit me in Japan if I went, but that he'd better get some action if he come all that way, then he said (in a conversation about my current situation with Tom) that he thought that all of our problems would be resolved if we just had sex together. He said this in less of a joking manner, with a degree of some seriousness that made me blush and then feel strange about the whole thing. Not that I think he would enact on this anytime soon. He has a girlfriend. I don't like how he says that shit to me having one. But I can't really deny the tension between Andy and I, it was always there in some way. Now I really don't know what to think about it.

Later that night it was time for a drink. It had been such a weird day. Timmi and I were invited to Raina and Dave's house for dinner and drinks before going out. Blythe is back in town after a bad breakup with her girlfriend, Tegan. Since she's been back we want her to have as good a time as she can, going out and doing things, so she doesn't have to think about it so much. She seems to be doing quite well. I think it is much better than anyone would have imagined. It's nice having Blythe in town again, I missed her a lot. But at the same time, I feel horrible that he has to be here this way. It was nice to go out, all of us together. Raina, Blythe's sister, and her husband are a treat to hang out with. Raina was always like my older sister too. It's strange that we all still know each other, but there's comfort in it. We're just getting older.

I'm not quite sure what to make of a lot of things right now. I'm just trying to put them into perspective.

Somewhere I hear a toilet flushing.

2005-09-15T11:22:00.000-05:00

I just scheduled a few doctor appointments before I will become one of many in our country without health insurance. As of my birthday next month I will be dropped from my father's insurance and left to fend for myself if I should become chronically ill or fall down several flights of stairs and break my legs. Nothing particularly unfortunate in the ways of health or injury have affected me thus far in my life, but now that I will be uninsured, I'll be holding my breath. I'm officially a grownup.

I don't feel like a grownup. But I am. It makes me sad. Here I am almost finished with five years of college and I still have no idea what I want to do after graduation. There are some options, but how do I know which is the right one to choose? How do I know which one is right for me? How will I live with the choices I have made? Most of all, will I be happy?

These are some of the options I have been pondering.

1. Go to Japan and teach english for a year.
2. Join the SCA (Student Conservation Corp) and continue to defer my loan payments for awhile. SCA could take me to some exciting and beautiful places while preseving our country's National Parks.
3. I don't know.

Okay, so it's obvious that I haven't thought too hard or too much on the subject. I just don't want to yet. I'm not a good planner. I've thought about the option of grad school, but I don't think I want to go just yet. I need some life experience.

School is in full swing right now. I am taking a whopping nine credits. I was originally going to take twelve, but financial aid is ridiculous. Hopefully my plan to cheat the system works. I'm supposed to recieve aid for full time status, but I'm trying to pull a fast one and drop a class so I become part time status. The money I was "awarded" for full time was still quite a bit less than what my actual tuition is. I would still end up owing the school more than $600. Considering that I am paying for my education by myself with no help from my parents, I feel that the government's observation about what they assume my parents will contribute is asinine. So screw you, financial aid.

In other news, my caffiene intake is up, my moral for the opposite sex is down, and my return to dancing is about the only good thing that I have going right now. Yes, I am in a ballet class. It counts for three of my nine credits. No, I'm not a slacker. This class is actually the only class I look forward to every Tuesday and Thursday.

If it were possible for me, I think I would become asexual. But it's not, it's just not. I've been feeling a bit jaded in male-female relationships as of late. It makes me want to absolve from them all together, except for that not being asexual part. It seems as thought I just get caught up in these things and overanalyze situations too much, therefore becoming agitated about the entire thing and extremely discontented with the entire male race.

This being "grown-up" thing is quite tricky.

Ready, set, go.

2005-09-06T20:55:00.000-05:00

And the semester begins at last. Not that I was eagerly waiting for its arrival, but it is here. I'm not really all that excited about my coursework to be honest. I didn't even go and buy books yet. Shakespeare might be interesting, however the professor seems like a ridiculously large dork. Now I like dorks, but this could just be on the verge of aggravating dork. You know, dorks that boast that they were a child prodigy and started teaching university at 22 (insert stuffy chuckling here). No really, he actually did that. Perhaps he will redeem himself. Mostly for the time we were trapped in that god awful conference room I spaced out and thought about whether I should grin or grimace over an obscene postcard I sent a fellow classmate this summer. Hmm.

In other more interesting news, I just got back from Alaska. As far as I'm concerned Alaska is the most beautiful place I have ever seen. Then again I haven't seen all that many places, but I'm working on it. My god, it was so incredible. I love Alaska. I wish I was there now and not going to school for year 5. It was good to see Nicole. We did many exciting things. I drove the Alaskan Highway and lived. Moreover, Timmi and I did not get mauled or eaten by bears like we so feared. The bears that we saw were actually very beautiful, that being grizzlies, a sow and her two cubs. Upon seeing these very fine and very large creatures, a feeling somewhere between awe and immense respect infected me, a feeling I didn't excpect mostly because of my previous intense fear of these animals. Not that I want to get up close and personal with any bears ever, but it was a nice, unexpected emotion towards the bears.

Other trip highlights include (in no particular order):

Timmi and I climbing a mountain. (I thought I would surely die, but didn't.)

Many moose sightings.

Nicole freaking out when we came into her work at our arrival in Denali. "Peeps! Peeps!"

THE SUNFIRE! (Our beloved rental vehicle with 420 on the Alaska "The Last Frontier" plates)

Camping on the Homer Spit, including Timmi's ability to start a campfire in 40mph winds.

Belugas.

Fine specimens of the male species aplenty.

Hugging a glacier.

Spenard Hostel in Anchorage.

Drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon with dude from Holland who gave us a free tent.

Denali.

Drinking at the Spike.

Weedkend 26.

The bus driver who loved me. (Oh yeah, I got the hookup.)

There were many more great things of course. But I suggest you check it out for yourselves someday. I myself will return. I'll just have to add that to my giant list of possibilites for the next few years.

So I've put off semester cleaning since I've gotten back home. I should probably try and do that now. I procrastinate much too much.

Here are some pictures:

Timmi in the pristine Alaskan wilderness. Me playing in glacial silt.

Timmi and Nicole at Spike. I made it to the top!

You see, I would add more pictures but the process is excruciatingly slow because my computer sucks. There will be more someday.