Weekend!

Today is the Project Revolution concert over at the Meadows! I can't wait to see Linkin Park (though sara warned me that chester isn't as hot as he was back in the day when they first came on the scene. alas.) Oh it's hot out there. let's all pray that michelle doesn't die.

want to hear something amusing? last night at work charlie said he had a "proposition" for me *rolls eyes*. turns out that he wants to pay me to drive him and his wife to logan airport in august, because none of his kids can do it (and for some reason, mr millionaire doesn't want to take a bus/train/limo). basically i'd drive to his house, leave my car there and drive to boston in one of his (i was crossing my fingers that he'd say the mercedes, or even the jetta, but no, i get a ford explorer that's probably three times as tall as he is) and he'd pay for gas and everything. he didn't say how much he'd pay me, so if he thinks i'm spending four hours in a car for like twenty bucks, ha. this girl ashlee at work said she'd come with me, but i don't know if i'd really want to go with her, she's kinda crazy and not always in a good way. i found myself wondering two things: number one, what kind of music would charlie be ok with listening to in the car? i am not listening to some italian folk singer crap that i've heard coming out of the office. and two: what happens if *god forbid* i get pulled over or get in an accident? i'm not registered to the car, i'm not on the insurance, and while i could just call isadore at the restaurant, it would be a major hassle. basically i'm going to try to settle these things via izzy or tony, because it's just so hard to communicate with charlie. he doesnt understand half of what im saying and vice versa.

oh, and i loved the look on izzy's face when i asked him later if he would trust the lives of his parents in my hands. pure horror. turns out, charlie hadn't mentioned this to him before he asked me. haha.

The Power of Cheese

In Which Munch the Vegetarian Dragon Discovers the Power of Cheese

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a dragon named Munch, who was so named because he liked to eat everything in sight. He had been this way since the moment he tapped his way out of his egg; indeed, the first thing he did was cast about for something to eat. The first thing he set eyes upon was his mother’s tail, curled protectively around him, and so he gave it a big bite with his teeth (thankfully for his mother, he had very small teeth, being newly born). When his mother reacted badly to this first gesture of affection by cuffing him around the ears, he turned his attention to other sources of food in their cave, devouring sticks, leaves, rocks and dirt, to the amazement of all who saw him. And so, the insatiable infant dragon was named Munch by his clan.
There was only one caveat to Munch’s interminable desire for food—he wouldn’t eat meat. Now, you may know that dragons are usually very fond of meat, especially that of young virgins, and especially young virgins of noble birth. Munch’s mother and father and aunts and uncles and cousins all ate meat, and liked it, but Munch turned up his snout at whatever morsels were offered him, and instead busied himself by stripping the surrounding area of its vegetation. Munch’s family was chagrined. His father asserted that his mother had eaten too many cows while Munch was an egg, and had somehow passed their grass-chewing tendencies on to their son. his mother denied this claim, but the fact remained that Munch was very much the herbivore.
The problem was not simply that Munch liked to eat vegetation; it was that he liked to eat all of the vegetation. The woods around the dragons’ cave were swiftly shorn of edible barks, leaves, and roots before Munch was a few months old, leaving their home un-camouflaged. The dragon clan decided that Munch would simply have to go, before his intense foraging attracted the attention of one of the roving bands of knights that ranged over the countryside looking for dragons to kill and princesses to rescue. Munch flew sadly away from his home, keeping an eye out for a promising-looking cave, and stopping from time to time to deforest a particular swathe of land.
Finally Munch came across a cave that was high on a mountain peak, overlooking a lush valley. It appeared that its previous tenant had left in a hurry, not even bothering to clean out the large pile of human bones that had accumulated at the rear. Munch wrinkled his snout in distaste and used his tail to sweep the bones over the cliff, before settling in to his new abode. He noted that there seemed to be some sort of human town in the valley below, but his chief attention was paid to the heavy greenery laid out below him like a banquet. He licked his lips, grinned, and went to dinner.
After only a few days of Munch’s normal eating habits, the people of the valley noticed that something was destroying the forest that surrounded their land. After a few more nights surveillance it was discovered, to their horror, that it was a dragon. Why a dragon was eating their trees and not their children, the poor folk had no idea, but they gathered at the lavish home of the valley’s ruler and demanded the dragon’s immediate removal.
This king announced to the people that the dragon was obviously trying to inform the valley of his presence, that they might have time to honorably meet him in battle. He then called for the best knights to go forth and slay the monster, but was met with silence. One of his advisors whispered in his ear and reminded him that the valley’s knights had all been slain by the last dragon to occupy that peak, though the very last one had managed to sink his sword into the beast’s heart as its jaws closed around his head. The king was disquieted; everyone knew that, aside from being slain by a knight, the only way to rid yourself of a troublesome dragon was to sacrifice a beautiful, noble girl—preferably a princess--to its evil hunger. The people of the valley demanded the king’s daughter, an attractive, clever girl named Sara, be given up to the dragon. The king resisted, for he was very fond of his daughter, but even he knew that it was the only choice open to him. Sadly, he gave the order for his daughter to be delivered to the mountaintop.
The Princess, meanwhile, had been listening to the goings-on from behind a door, and on discovering that she was to be martyred for her people, debated with herself on whether or not to run. Her noble blood overcame her base desire for self-preservation in the end, and she submitted to the king’s guards who had come to escort her. She refused to say goodbye to her father, but asked only for some bread and cheese to sustain her on the journey to the mountain. The king gladly assented, but found that the bakery was out of bread; therefore, he commanded the dairy to give his daughter a generous lump of finest cheese, which she tucked into her sash for a later snack.
After a few hours ascent up the mountain, the fearful guards abandoned Princess Sara a little ways below the dragon’s lair. She watched them go disdainfully, then continued to pick her way up the path to the cave. She stopped directly outside, remembering that she had not yet eaten the cheese; desiring one last moment of earthly pleasure before consigning herself to a painful death, she sat down and took out the cheese.
Munch had been napping his cave all this while, dreaming of a particularly taste oak tree whose leaves stubbornly evaded his reach. Suddenly the most amazing smell reached his nostrils—his eyes flew open and he bounded to his feet. He exited his cave at a run, almost tripping over the human sitting right outside, who was holding in her hand the source of the wonderful odor. Princess Sara, it may be said proudly, did not scream or whimper as she was almost run over by a dragon. She merely looked at him calmly, noting that he was rather young, and wondered if this meant he would be capable of eating her in one sitting or not. Suddenly the dragon opened its mouth, and Sara flinched despite herself.
Munch surprised her, however—he did not emit a blast of flame and roast her to a cinder, as she expected; rather, he asked her, rather politely, what that wonderful smell was, and if he might have a taste (for though Munch was young, he had learned excellent manners from his mother, a dragon of great refinement). Shocked, Princess Sara told him that it was cheese, and held it out in a hand that shook only slightly, for him to try. Munch accepted the cheese eagerly, downing it in a single gulp, responding with only one word: “More!”
Princess Sara, by now much confused, informed him that she had no more cheese, and didn’t he want to eat her, anyway? Munch laughed, in the peculiar way dragons laugh, which involves a lot of smoke and therefore left the princess coughing, before informing her of his particular situation as a vegetarian dragon. Princess Sara was much surprised by this, but her clever mind was already forming a solution. She offered Munch a deal, on behalf of her father the king: Munch could occupy the post of Royal Dragon, protector of the valley, in return for as much cheese as his heart desired. Munch readily accepted, and bore the princess on his back triumphantly back into the valley. The king was surprised to see his daughter again, and cried a great deal, and accepted the offer the dragon made to be the valley’s guardian. Immediately a feast was ordered up, and great quantities of cheese were set before Munch, who devoured it all with very sharp, pointy teeth, which had the habit of making the people sitting on either side of him very nervous. Princess Sara was given great honors, and the king declared her his heir, whether she married Prince Patrick from the neighboring valley or not, though he strongly suggest he do so, as the next valley had a great number of cows who could greatly augment their cheese production.
They all lived happily ever after, except the king, who died soon after of a heart attack during sex with a scullery maid. However, no one really minded, since Princess Sara was a much more capable administrator, and Prince Patrick was very handsome, even if his was only a token position of power. Munch was perhaps happiest of all, since he had discovered at last the food that could quench his ravenous appetites. He had discovered the Power of Cheese.

i wrote this for sara once because she asked for a story about cheese and princesses and dragons or something, and for some insane reason i sat at my computer and wrote like a three-page story. but it ain't bad. lol.

The News

So, my Wendy has a boyfriend! This idea definitely takes some adjusting to....his name is Rob, and he's going to Fairfield next year, although he's living in an off-campus apartment and not in dorms. He's also a younger man *gasp* except that doesn't really mean anything to me because, please, look at Rae and AJ. Anyway, the situation is kind of awkward because Tommy is not very fond of this young man, due to prior history and some gossip about Rob that Wendy says is not true. In my limited experience of Rob (I've met him twice), he seems to be a nice guy, and he definitely treats Wendy very well, so I'm happy for her. I hope Tommy gives him another chance. It's his best friend's boyfriend, after all. No one is ever under any obligation to love their friends' significant others (*thinks ironically of Sara*), but still, it helps if they try to get along.

Yesterday was great because Wendy was here, and I was kind of drunk in front of my sister and she had no idea, and then she commented to my mom how I'm so friendly to her when Wendy's here. Ha.  We hung out at Melissa and Jessi's, which was really good because I hadn't seen those two in so long and I missed them. The new carpet in the living is so damn comfy. We watched this horrible movie, 'Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen", which Wendy missed most of because she was outside confessing her undying love to Rob. Well not really, but you know.

The most interesting part of the night was at the very end, we watched this video from when Mel and Jessi jumped out of a plane in Maine. Melissa paid them extra to film her on the way down, and it looked seriously awesome. Melissa said she's terrified of heights but she was ok, and of course your first time you have to do a tandem jump anyway so it's not like you have to worry about pulling the chute yourself. Anyway, they're going back October 9, and this time a bunch of other people are going too...Heather and Wendy want to go, and I know Tommy's always wanted to skydive, so maybe he'll come too. I surprised myself by realizing that I wanted to do it. I mean, I managed to make myself go up and do the ropes course forty feet off the ground for HILL, and I never thought I could do that. It's 175 bucks, which is a lot of money, but Melissa assured me it's worth it. Oh, and if you flash the pilot (which Heather did, riding in the cockpit) they'll take the jumpers up higher. Lol.

Random

Ok, for the past few days, the little ad at the top of my blog has been selling a plush "jungle cat" and a stuffed tiger. "Jungle cat"--remember that phrase from ye olde days of greg, anyone? as opposed to "house cat"? and the tiger, well after my interesting dream a few nights ago, it just seems very coincidental that that ad pops up....hmm....luckily i believe in coincidences and don't take everything as evidence of some master plan. What kind of master plan would involve reminding me about the jungle cat thing, anyway.

Tomorrow is Another Day

I guess that didn't go too badly. I feel bad that what I had intended as something nice got misinterpreted. Also, if his estimation of my previous behavior in certain respects is accurate, then I'm sorry about that too, and that's something that I'll have to work on. Maybe somewhere along the line I forgot that I'm not perfect. Actually no, that'd be really hard to do when you're constantly reminding yourself of your faults. Just stick me in front of a mirror. Yuck. At least I looked hot enough tonight to be on the town.....seeing a movie with Meghan. Lol.

I'd like to say bon voyage to Meredith, who leaves tomorrow for Ireland. May you return to us safe and sound, my friend. I'd also like to express my hope that tomorrow night is a fabulous evening for Rae and AJ! I was saddened by the forecasted rain, but Sara made the excellent point that for the two of you, just being together is enough to overcome the climatic disappointment. May we all learn from that example.

The Sad Lady

No, the title isn't about me. It's the title of my Mr. Picassohead creation, which you can view here: http://www.mrpicassohead.com/canvas.html?id=b8c8583 . My thanks to Meredith for sending me the site in the first place.

I don't know if anyone besides Meredith saw the post I put up last night...it's deleted now, for various reasons.  I feel like I've been over-emotional lately and I don't know why. I get frustrated easily. My bad mood last night was so transparent that my mom actually came into my room to ask me if i was mad at her. My mom never does stuff like that.

Anyway, while I still feel that I have several valid reasons to be upset, complaining about them on the web does me little good. it would just wind up a reminder of a particularly bad day, and i can do without that. I also realized last night that I have over-reacted to some things recently, mostly because I was already upset about something, which then became a magnet for smaller grievances. Anyway, Wendy's coming tomorrow. That's something to look forward to.

Snippet

the lazarus cat: so what else is new with you
the noctambules: um
the noctambules: got my haircut
the noctambules: a lot
the noctambules: you'll probably fear it or hate it

in some respects, at least, he knows me too well. lol.

Dream

Last night I dreamt about a tiger, possibly fueled by heather mentioning that she wanted to have one of the big cats as a pet someday. It was my pet in the dream, and it was absolutely gorgeous, though not as huge as I think they are in real life; in the dream it was like a furry, striped Great Dane. Anyway, it was lying curled on its side on this big bed, my bed, and I was lying next to it feeling intimidated and scared to touch it, but it started to purr, this rumbling, throaty sound, and sounded very inviting, so it ended up that I was like sleeping on the tiger with my hands wound in its fur, which was very soft. It was a cool dream.

Ok, I was wondering exactly how big the tiger would have actually been, so I looked it up online...the one i dreamt about was a Bengal tiger, which can get up to ten feet long. And yes, they are actually capable of purring, but apparently while domestic cats purr both while they're breathing in and breathing out, tigers only purr when exhaling. Hm. I wonder why that is.

Seeing a tiger in your dream, symbolizes repressed feelings or emotions that frighten you. Alternatively, the tiger represents female sexuality, aggression, and seduction. If the tiger is in a cage, then it suggests that those repressed feelings/emotions are on the verge of surfacing. Dreaming that you are attacked by a tiger means overwhelming gloom and disappointing failures. You may find yourself distressed and tormented by rivals. Dreaming that you ward off or kill a tiger means that you will be exceedingly successful in all your endeavors. It is an indication of your good health, vitality, and vigor. Seeing rugs made of tiger skins, symbolizes a life of luxury and ease. Um...so I was either cuddling with my repressed emotions or a manifestation of female sexuality? Intriguing.
 

A New Day

Today I managed to stay remarkably upbeat during my entire shift. It might be a first, because Sundays absolutely kill me. They are so insufferably boring. My buoyant spirits could possibly be attributed to hanging out with heather last night after work. Catching up on endless reams of gossip, seeing the marvelous Flanagan family members, having my personal space jokingly violated by Heather's "weird" Uncle Fran, watching colin farrell light up the screen in SWAT (that man is  now #2 on my list of hottest men ever), and getting harassed by drunken guys at the diner at 2am always does wonders for my mood!

also cheerful news--my sister is leaving the fourteenth of August. Yes my friends, between the days of August 15th and September 5th, i am a free woman. Oh, and I'm having a party or two or three....details to come...but not the weekend of August 20th, because there's already a friend's house party penciled in there. heehee.

Oh, the world is bright.

...

Disappointment and frustration have become default emotions with me.

This Is Post #555

What an interesting day. I went to Milano's early in the afternoon for a real back massage, delivered by this really nice Polish girl, Lucy (she had an accent just like a masseuse should!). It was amazing. I had completely not given thought to the fact that you have to take your clothes off for these, btw, so when she led me into the cute little room, which was lit only by candles and had really soothing music playing, and told me to take off everything but my underwear I was like, um, right now? She left the room, but there's a distinct feeling of vulnerability about taking your clothes off and hopping into this bed in some place you've never been. Anyway, the massage was so incredibly relaxing and felt awesome, except for the fact that she used all this massage oil on me, everywhere from my back, neck, arms and hands, and then didn't give me a towel to wipe it off or anything, so i felt kinda greasy afterward. When she started off she was playing with my hair, kind of, and it felt so good, but then later she touched my hair again with the oil stuff on her hands, so now that feels greasy too. All in all, this is one thing that is definitely going on the gift list for christmas, except next time i want the swedish full-body massage, which is like an hour. that sounds like fun.

after this i was quite relaxed, so i decided to chill in the little coffee place in town with my book. i walk in only to discover that not only does Annie work there, so do Logan G. from high school (he of the piercing blue eyes) and Pete, Greg's friend, who was sporting gigantic muttonchops! it was so weird, the servers were all people i knew. neither logan nor pete seemed to recognize me so i didn't say anything. annie was really nice, i left her half of the mocha-mousse dessert i had because she wanted to try it lol.

anyway i didn't really feel comfortable sitting in there for hours with those people there, so i decided to go sit by the fountain on the town green. to my disappointment there were people noisily cutting the grass. i'm walking by and i turn to look at one of the mowers only to discover that it's Greg! it was so weird! i just stood there and waved and it took him a minute to figure out who i was. he said later that he didn't recognize me with the sunglasses, he just saw this girl walking by and was like damn, who's that, and then "oh....it's you." lol. kind of a compliment, kind of not, but it was delivered with the usual huge greg grin, so it was ok. he was dressed kinda like a hobo for work, but he shaved off those sideburns, with the result that he looked really hot. (wendy scolded me for this. she's not very fond of him). him being hot has a lot to do with his hair--it was longer and wavy and completely out of control, exactly how i liked it, like brandon boyd hair, except then he said he was cutting it short today, which i always hated. i always thought greg had the perfect guy hair, but i never liked him getting it cut (this is probably where i got my dislike of men cutting their hair in general). anyway, i guess the general rule of thumb is that you're supposed to hope your ex looks a lot worse than when you dated them so that you can somehow feel better about yourself, but that's so stupid. or maybe it's because i was in a really good mood today. either way, i was happy for him that he's still really cute, and i was happy i ran into him, not only because seeing hot guys is always a plus but because it was good to talk to him again.

so yes, my day to this point has been strange indeed. who knows where it will go from here?

tomorrow is my three month anniversary with tommy!

Night

Sometimes, I am easily irked (I like this word, "irked"). For instance, I always have to restrain the impulse to be very, very nasty to anyone who is so unwise as to bother me at work while I'm trying to eat dinner in the space of, like, seven minutes. Seven minutes is probably the length of time it would take me, uninterrupted, to wolf down half a grinder, but does it ever take me seven minutes? No, more like twenty-seven, because there is somewhere a law that says whenever Michelle orders her food, even if it has been completely dead for half an hour, customers will appear out of the woodwork to be sat or to pay their bills, or else waitresses will need credit cards run, checks cashed or tips handed out. Even if I have been in a grossly cheerful mood the entire shift, I suddenly become very resentful at not being allowed more than two bites between customers.

Also, I get annoyed when people promise to call you back and then don't, like Tommy, who, when i called him, said he'd call me later tonight but who has undoubtedly already gone to bed. Things like that make me have bitch moments, even though i try to remind myself that men are stupid and easily forgetful of small things like calling their girlfriends back.  Argh.

Note, one hour later: Talking to Mark and Steve (who I hadn't talked to in a long time) online definitely made me end the evening on a happier note. Ironically, Tommy called twice just a few minutes after I left my cell in my room and came down here to type in an annoyed huff at men's ignorance. Oh well!

Survey!

1. What do you wish you had been named? I actually like my name…but I wouldn’t have minded being named India.

2. What is the nickname most people call you? Shelle Belle or Shelley *shudders*

3. Do you plan to change your name when you're 18? If so, to what? Yes, this is obviously a survey for the pathetic under-18 crowd…and no, for the record, my name is still Michelle.

4. If you could become any age you wanted, right now, what age would it be and why?
I’d be 21. Yes, obvious answer, but hey, not only would I be able to drink, I’d be in my senior year of college, my last chance to experience a relatively stress-free existence before the crushing weight of reality sets in post-graduation.

5. Why is (insert your favorite color here) your favorite color? I like black because it’s simple, because it never hurts my eyes, because it matches everything, because I look good in it. Also, I like blue because it has so many shades, almost all of which are beautiful (not a big cornflower/periwinkle gal)

6. If your first choice of careers doesn't work out, what would you choose as a "backup?" Right now I don’t even know what career number one will be. How about US Poet Laureate for number two? International woman of mystery would work too.
 
 
7. What holiday could you easily do without? Easter. More than any other holiday it seems like people celebrate it for no reason, they celebrate because it means bunnies and candy and easter egg hunts. I mean, at least people get into Christmas because it means bringing people together and giving meaningful gifts and getting really drunk at family parties. If you absolutely feel the need to celebrate the spring renewal, I’m sure the pagans have a better festival for you.

8. Assuming you have a crush on somebody, what is it exactly that you like about him/her? If you don't have a crush, what is the one quality that the person absolutely has to have?
Being able to make me laugh. Being hot never hurts their prospects, either.

9. What singer or band can you imitate the best? Alvin and the Chipmunks! Kidding.

10. If your life were a book, what genre would it be? What about its rating (G, PG, etc)? Books don’t get ratings, you moron (but if they did, mine would be rated R for sexuality and language). It would most definitely NOT be chicklit, nor a bodice-ripper (alas!).

11. Do you worry about finding your soul mate and getting married? Do I lie awake at night shaking with fear at the thought that I might not be married before all of my friends? No. I figure I’ll find that person in due time, and if I should find him before I’m ready to be domesticated, well, long engagements are all the rage anyway.

12. If you could choose how to die, how would you? Quickly, painlessly, and with dignity.

13. If you were the opposite sex for a day, would you have sex with somebody of the same sex that you used to be (ex: if you're a girl and turned into a guy for a day, would you have sex with a girl, and vice versa for guys), and why/why not?  Theoretically yes, because it’d be really fascinating to see sex from the other perspective. However, having sex with a girl would require me to be turned on by the girl, and that’s probably not going to happen. How weird would it be if you were turned on by yourself, though? Like if the guy I turned into happened to have the chiseled body of David Beckham? That would be cruelly ironic.

FAVORITES

Type of chocolate: Milk chocolate caramels

Eye color: I’m only partial to one pair of blue eyes; otherwise it’s brown, because they’re the warmest.
Dog breed: no preference
Period in history: Renaissance
Word to use when you want to sound smart: “diametrically” heehee
Candle scent: I don’t know
Method of communication (in person, telephone, etc): in person
Language: Spanish, only because I can understand bits
Famous painting: El Greco “View of Toledo”
Weather: clear and coolS
ummer activity: being inside staying cool
Winter activity: being inside staying warm
Computer game: Snood
Boredom-buster: reading a book or talking on the phone
Newspaper comic: Dilbert, Foxtrot, Rhymes with Orange, Zits
Section in a bookstore: the cool gifts section full of things I will never buy
Sex/romantic scene in a movie: I can’t really think of one. Actually, maybe those two guys rolling around on the beach in that weird French movie we rented last year…

OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU KNOW (NOT JUST YOUR FRIENDS)

The one you can stand for the longest amount of time: Wendy

Wears the funkiest socks: Rae, they never match!

The activist: uhh…wow you are all so inactive. Losers.

The most boy (or girl) obsessed: wendy, hands down

The horniest: heather or wendy

The one who you wouldn't care if they disappeared from the face of this earth: stephanie

The best musician: mark and jared from school, and “follow your nose” steve

The overachiever: rae

The DIYer: sara, the domestic goddess

The worst taste in music: if we tactfully rephrase that as “person with the musical taste most diametrically opposed to my own”, not only do I get to sound smart (muahaha) but I can say ‘Tommy’ without feeling mean!

Needs a life: most of the guys from school

You absolutely couldn't live without: my girl friends at home and at school, Tommy (oh shut up all of you)

The best singer: Rae, Heather and Wendy

The most expansive vocabulary: Rae

Has the niftiest house: Sara’s is the best in terms of décor, Tommy’s wins for comfort

Has the prettiest handwriting: Sara, with that typewriter handwriting

Talks way too much: me

The one you truly worry about: I worry about a bunch of my friends, especially ones who smoke or engage in other destructive behaviors

Never gets sick, damn them: ummm…Meredith? I can’t remember her being sick

IMAGINED SITUATIONS

1. If babies could talk at birth, what do you think would be the first thing they say?
”Feed me, you bitch!”

2. If you could read minds, would you enjoy knowing what people were thinking, or would breaching their privacy bother you? Would you consider it a burden to know everyone's innermost thoughts? I’d probably wind up finding out stuff people think about me that would hurt my feelings or completely weird me out, and I’d never be able to totally forget about it, but I also couldn’t let on that I knew. Also, breaching their privacy would bother me. If I couldn’t control it it would probably drive me nuts.

3. Do you think you could survive in the Middle Ages? Probably. I’m young and healthy, I’ve been immunized to a lot of diseases, I know about proper hygiene…but thrown into peasant conditions I don’t think anyone from our day would really last very long.

4. If you knew as a little kid what you know now, what one situation would you choose to do differently? I’d treat my parents differently.

5. If you were given the choice to know exactly when, how, and where you would die, would you choose to know? And if you did choose to know, would you try and cheat death? I wouldn’t want to know. Too depressing. I probably would try to cheat death, in fact I would probably wind up obsessing over cheating death and therefore wasting my precious time on earth.

6. If you got pregnant (guys, just play along) before you were ready, what would you do? Would you ask your parents for help, or keep it from them?
 
Tell my mom? Good god, no. that’s what friends are for.

7. Do you think you would enjoy being the opposite sex for the rest of your life? What would be so enjoyable/hellish about it? No. sex might be a heck of a lot easier, but there’s the smelliness and the sweating and the beard and the body hair and all the macho ego crap and trying to walk with something stuck between your legs and the wonderful experience of adjusting yourself in public. Also, they lack the close-knit system of kvetching that women have in place.

8. If someone came up with an elixir that made you immortal, would you take it? If you would, what would you do with all the extra time? If you wouldn't, well, why not? Nah, because everyone you know and love would die and you’d probably get bored and what the hell would you do when the sun burns out?

9. Does the thought of being a vampire appeal to or disgust you? The dark, romantic Hollywood version does because it’s sexy (hello Brad Pitt in “Interview with the Vampire”, Spike from Buffy) but the reality of having to drink blood and never seeing the sunrise, no thanks.

10. If you were given magickal powers to do just one thing, what would you do (besides giving yourself unlimited magickal powers)?
I’d change some things about myself. Smaller butt, bigger boobs, kill the hair frizz, plus I’d never have to shave or wax my eyebrows again.

11. If you could go back into history and change one thing only, what would you change? What do you think the repercussions of the change will be?
        Just for kicks, I’d make like in that Simpsons episode and go back to the prehistoric era and step on a single bug, then come back and see if it changed anything and if maybe it was raining donuts. I’d be kinda disappointed if nothing was different. Or if flanders ruled the world.

This Describes Me to a T

Your love is... by ChibiMarronchan
Your name is...
Your kiss is...	delicious
Your hugs are...	to die for
Your eyes...	twinkle in the moonlight
Your touch is...	irresistable
Your smell is...	beautiful
Your smile is...	encouraging
Your love is...	everlasting
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Ah, Creativity!

Today I find myself full of creative thoughts. Things to make, things to bake, things to organize and accomplish (sadly, still nothing to write)! I have a lot of things I want to get done today, like cleaning, and making lists of things I need for school even though I'm not going to start buying them until Jen is safely gone (August 14th, according to my mom, and please god let it be true), watching some of the DVDs i've rented that are piling up (Pulp Fiction, Head of State, and this critically acclaimed Japanese film "Suicide Club"), possibly getting in touch with future roommate Carla to discuss decor and furniture, applying for loans online, and starting some of the books i got today, including Michelangelo and the Pope's Ceiling, the author of which lectured at FU this past year, and Becoming Mona Lisa, which is about her emergence as a global secular icon. If you're wondering why i'm wasting my time blogging, I'm applying for loans at the same time, so ha.

Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, "The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance."
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.To think that I do not have her.
To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.This is all.
In the distance someone is singing.

In the distance
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
 
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's.

She will be another's.
Like my kisses before.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
 
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
 
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
by Pablo Neruda

Lesson

"Veritas" was originally what i intended to have as part of my URL when i created this site. for anyone not up on their latin, that means "truth", whereas what i ended up with, "caritas", means "love". I don't even remember how i ended up switching from veritas to caritas. obviously, Truth and Love are both very important. they intertwine. if you love someone, you should be honest with them.

In

whoa, blogger got all high-tech on me all of a sudden. look at this, i can change styles and colors and stuff! cool! and yes, yes i AM easily amused. Silence, mortals.
 

Dreams and Happenings

last night i had a bunch of vivid dreams, and none of them were really good dreams...i only remember two clearly now. in one, tommy and paul were at my house, and for some reason tommy decided to steal my mailman's truck while he wasn't in it, and then hid it in my garage, despite my protests, and then his mother blamed me for it! i was so annoyed. the second one involved me coming home and finding all the paint stripped off of the walls in my room, the purple paint that my dad put up for me in eighth grade. i ran into my mom's room, and my sister was sleeping there too, strangely, and started screaming, because i knew it was jen's doing, and my mom said that jen had told her that i didn't want it purple anymore so they took it down. and when i say screaming, i was SHRIEKING like i can't even remember ever doing in real life. very strange.

i went to the wadsworth today, both because i hadn't been in a long time (a year, possibly) and because there was a rauschenberg exhibit that i wanted to see. we looked at some rauschenberg pieces toward the end of art history with jesus, and i used one of his works, retroactive I, in my huge essay on the exam about how ruler portraits have been created over a period of six centuries (and that essay KICKED ASS, too. i wish i had it back.) anyway, i was really looking forward to seeing it in person, because art in a book just never compares. so i get there and go through the whole five or six gallery exhibit, but it wasn't there, so i asked the front desk and they informed me that that piece of part of the permanent collection and not on display currently. i was like, WTF people, you have an entire exhibit of this guy's work, you own one of his most famous pieces, and you've got it stuck in a closet somewhere?! argh. and they had switched around a lot of the permanent collection to make way for some stupid kids furniture exhibit, so a lot of my favorite works of art are ALSO in storage, like the caravaggio they usually have out. naturally, monet and his stupid waterlilies were still hanging around. grumble.

Snippet

A Ritual To Read To Each Other

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

~William Stafford

there's more to this poem, but i didn't find it as good as this first stanza. i love the fourth line: "and following the wrong god home we may miss our star"...sometimes there are phrases or sentences that strike me as so poetic or beautiful--even if i don't fully comprehend what they mean--that i wish i could just write them all down in a little book that i would carry with me everywhere.

i don't want to miss my star

Conversation

the lazarus cat: that phrase could epitomize the 2000s: "killer low-carb cupcakes"
the lazarus cat: cmon, baked goods are supposed to lead you down the deliciously sugary path to obesity and early death!
the lazarus cat: it's their purpose in existence
the lazarus cat (12:17:56 AM): those poor cupcakes
MarkMyWords85: these cupcakes knew they were loved
the lazarus cat: they better have
MarkMyWords85: oh, they did
MarkMyWords85: if they were women, i'd have made sweet sweet sugar-substitute love to them
the lazarus cat: please, your splenda-esque lovemaking is no match for true sugary abandon
MarkMyWords85: perhaps not

i don't know why this struck me as so ridiculously funny. it was just that i was at the computer eating candy and mark was telling me about atkins stuff and i was like wow, my diet today has been such shit, all sugar and crap, and he told me about some low-carb cupcakes he ate for his dad's bday and i was like WHAT, do not adulterate the cupcakes!!

The Question

Love, a question
has destroyed you.

I have come back to you
from thorny uncertainty.

I want you straight as
the sword or the road.

But you insist
on keeping a nook
of shadow that I do not want.

My love,
understand me,
I love all of you,
from eyes to feet, to toenails,
inside,
all the brightness, which you kept.

It is I, my love,
who knocks at your door.
It is not the ghost, it is not
the one who once stopped
at your window.
I knock down the door:
I enter your life:
I come to live in your soul:
you cannot cope with me.

You must open door to door,
you must obey me,
you must open your eyes
so that I may search in them,
you must see how I walk
with heavy steps
along all the roads
that, blind, were waiting for me.

Do not fear,
I am yours,
but
I am not the passenger or the beggar,
I am your master,
the one you were waiting for,
and now I enter
your life,
no more to leave it,
love, love, love,
but to stay.

~ Pablo Neruda

a little disturbing, this poem. it seems sweet but it has that dark undercurrent of control, of possessiveness. interesting. neruda really does run the gamut in his love poetry, doesn't he. "tonight i can write the saddest lines" is one of my favorite poems.

Tonight

Another night with amazing friends...you girls always leave me laughing.

I've been so fortunate. Thank you.

Listen

Why are you always a mystery to me?

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

No, this isn't a reference to the movie, really. the line just came to mind as i was thinking about the conversation sara and i had about annie and her boundless reserves of optimism and energy, and it made me wonder what exactly comprises a "spotless mind". i don't doubt that if one's mind were made spotless, one would indeed enjoy eternal sunshine and happiness.

what are the spots in my mind? doubt is one. well, not one, many. they're about myself, mostly. fear is another. anger...i still hold grudges against a few people for past slights (example: the stephanie w. issue with heather). i think most of my spots are made up of my own petty faults. i want to get try to get rid of them; i know my mind will never be spotless because there will always be negative aspects of my personality, but there's nothing wrong with a little self-improvement, as sara discussed on her own site.

Thoughts

A lot of things have been crossing my mind lately. Sometimes I feel like i'm trapped by the past. for example, i keep thinking about greg at random moments. i think it's because i feel like we never settled anything between us, we never had that final talk where the truth comes out about what caused everything to go to shit, we never really answered the question of whether we could really be friends or not. i haven't talked to him in a couple weeks, and i don't have time to do anything this week, and even if i did it's not like i could call him up and be like "hey there, want to go get some coffee and maybe have a heart-to-heart about why our relationship failed?", but still...i have an inkling that he's the reason i keep dreaming about dinosaurs, the things from my past that are lodged in my mind. aside from my dad, who is of course omnipresent in the michelle psyche, greg's the other ol fixture in my mind as something that was never settled to my satisfaction. in some ways, i feel like i don't have the right to demand that satisfaction, seeing as i broke up with him, and if he doesn't want to go into what happened, what is it now, ten months ago, then that should be that. another part of me says that i should get used to this, that things will not always be able to be rationally discussed after the fact. and we all know that far too often, discussions between michelle and greg about the great mysteries of life do not end on friendly terms. i guess i just don't know.

Taliesin

I am Taliesin. I sing perfect metre,
Which will last to the end of the world.
My patron is Elphin...

I know why there is an echo in a hollow;
Why silver gleams; why breath is black; why liver is bloody;
Why a cow has horns; why a woman is affectionate;
Why milk is white; why holly is green;
Why a kid is bearded; why the cow-parsnip is hollow;
Why brine is salt; why ale is bitter;
Why the linnet is green and berries red;
Why a cuckoo complains; why it sings;
I know where the cuckoos of summer are in winter.
I know what beasts there are at the bottom of the sea;
How many spears in battle; how may drops in a shower;
Why a river drowned Pharaoh's people;
Why fishes have scales.
Why a white swan has black feet...

I have been a blue salmon,
I have been a dog, a stag, a roebuck on the mountain,
A stock, a spade, an axe in the hand,
A stallion, a bull, a buck,
I was reaped and placed in an oven;
I fell to the ground when I was being roasted
And a hen swallowed me.
For nine nights was I in her crop.
I have been dead, I have been alive.
I am Taliesin.

~Welsh, 4th century

i only read this because i saw "taliesin" and was reminded of that frank lloyd wright house we visited outside scottsdale, Taliesin West. apparently taliesin was a mythological character, a poet and minstrel who was also some kind of trickster, kind of like the norse Loki. interesting. i liked the name taliesin, but i never thought to inquire what it meant.

Numerology

Your Birth Day number is 1
You are a leader. You have a great ambition and a strong drive for success. You are highly independent and dislike the restrictions of having to work with others. You easily become frustrated with the routine. You are a pioneer, a gambler, and an initiator. You are very creative; you possess a keen and rapid mind. You have excellent business instincts and with the appropriate training can run large organizations and big businesses. You use information for a specific purpose. Knowledge is a practical tool in your hands; you dislike information or knowledge for its own sake.

You possess a broad vision and a great capacity for motivating others. You have great will power that will be tested, especially during the years 28 to 56. But your opportunity for accomplishment is enormous.

You are generally open to the ideas of others, but you can be extremely stubborn and hardheaded once you become attached to your plans. Avoid laziness and procrastination. You are given to anger and frustration, and have a tendency to force the issue at times when things are not developing as rapidly as you would like. Your determination, will power, and inventiveness are the keys to your success and will likely bring you much personal reward and financial success.

so this is supposed to describe both me and tommy, since we're both born on day 1. it's kinda piecemeal. creativity, leadership, stubborness, independence...those fit us both. "You...dislike the restrictions of having to work with others."--well, that was obviously written with me in mind! and given to anger and frustration...uh-oh, my mom always warned me i have my dad's anger-management issues. also, all the stuff about business definitely applies to tommy the business major but not quite to me.

Lines

Draw a line. Write a line. There.
Stay in line, hold the line, a glance
between the lines is fine but don't
turn corners, cross, cut in, go over
or out, between two points of no
return's a line of flight, between
two points of view's a line of vision.
But a line of thought is rarely
straight, an open line's no party
line, however fine your point.
A line of fire communicates, but drop
your weapons and drop your line,
consider the shortest distance from x
to y, let x be me, let y be you.

-Martha Collins

i looted this shamelessly from rae's blog. muahaha. this poem sounds like it would make really great slam poetry. try to imagine someone performing this-- not some dull shakespearean reading, but a fast, aggressive, almost rap-like performance, with a beat so strong that you can almost hear it resonate in the air. i've only witness a poetry slam once, at the breadloaf writers' conference in vermont junior year, but it was absolutely incredible.

Of Mice and Meese

a summary of recent events, a la heather:

thursday: left home after uneventful lunch with the maternal unit to go to wendy's. after a mercifully short trip to the DMV, wendy emerged the proud owner of a purple Dodge Shadow, which is freakishly clean and has really low mileage, thanks to Tommy's grandma. from there we proceeded to the mall, where i purchased the first clothes from hot topic that i had bought in a long, long time. i am now the proud owner of a perfect circle tank top!! and so is sara, since they were on sale! lol. after some chinese food (and a rather interesting car ride with wendy at the wheel, the details of which i am not permitted to go into her), wendy and i were at a loss as to how to spend the remainder of the evening--so we called tommy. naturally. we ended up watching a few episodes of family guy with him and brian, and then left because wendy had to get up very early for work.

friday: after lunch with wendy, i bid her farewell and journeyed on to fairfield, where i picked up meredith and surveyed what little progress has been made on the grand concourse or whatever the hell they're trying to make. we visited the beach (water very cold) and had dinner before she took a train back to her sister's. then, having three and a half hours before i could briefly see tommy (he was busy with vacation bible school *opinion withheld*), i opted to go back to the trumbull mall, where i literally sat from six-thirty till nine pm in a tiny waldenbooks reading dan brown's "deception point". at 340 pages, i kinda had to hurry a bit toward the end in order to finish by nine, but it was altogether a pretty good read. anyway, at this point i went outside to my car only to discover that, silly me, i had locked my keys inside.

you can imagine how thrilled i was at this. i went back inside to security, who sent a guy who looked at my car and said "umm....dunno if i can open this. hold on , ill be right back". twenty minutes later, he's not back, i'm standing in an increasingly deserted parking lot feeling really really stupid, and my boss is giving me a lecture via cellphone on how impractical i am for not having a spare key on me. yeah, thanks, izzy, but when i'm worrying about possibly being robbed or molested in this sketchy parking lot, that's not exactly what i want to hear. i talked to tommy and asked him to come get me. immediately after i hang out, the security guys arrive--all FIVE of them. they inform me that they're not technically allowed to work on cars with automatic locks, and further aren't allowed to open cars who aren't registered to the person asking for help, but they were ok helping me because i was nice. it probably didn't hurt that one of them called me cute to his partner as he was getting out of the truck. one of them was quite attractive, his name was adam...he told me that i was much too good of a talker, that i must be used to talking my way out of things, and when i protested that i'd never been pulled over he sort of winked and said "that's not all i was talking about". er, i still don't quite get that, but he was being quite friendly until tommy showed up hahaha. stupid boyfriend, scaring away the flirty security guards. jeez. tommy thought the whole scene was hysterical, arriving there to see five uniformed security guards climbing on the tahoe, yelling at each other, with the alarm wailing in the background and the stupid lights on their truck flashing enough to give anyone a seizure. he went to his car to see if he had a jacket to give me, then realized, to his horror, that one of his precious speakers was loose! only MY boyfriend would worry about the stupid car speaker while his girlfriend is freezing and watching a bunch of men maul her car door with a tire iron covered in newspaper and a clotheshanger! to his credit, he realized his error quickly and later joked that it was god's form of retribution for his having initially laughed at the tahoe's pain.

anyway, the guys finally got the car open. there was a moment of panic when i couldnt find the goddamned keys, which were on the backseat. one note: it took FIVE trumbull guards half an hour to get my car open, whereas it took TWO westfarms guards about fifteen minutes to get it open a year or so ago. HMMMM. says something about fairfield county, eh?

after all this crap i did not want to drive home, so i gave my boss a BS story about my car being inaccessible till the next morning and stayed at tommy's. unfortunately for me, his mom decided to take this opportunity to express her concern over tommy sleeping "behind closed doors" with me, even though he (supposedly) sleeps on the air mattress on the floor. this situation might not have been helped by the fact that his mom picked up my cell phone when my 11PM alarm went off and saw the bright "TAKE PILL" display....no word on whether she understood which pill that meant. so i spent the night alone in a queen-sized bed and tommy slept on the floor in the living room. yipee skippy. the only plus to this was waking up to tommy bringing me breakfast in bed! that was awesome, even if i wasn't really hungry...

but i'm home now, alas. i saw my sister tonight in the bathroom for the first time since....wednesday morning (and i don't look at her i nthe morning anyway, i roll blearily into the car, drive, turn around, drive back, and flop back onto my bed) and screamed (literally) because she was ORANGE. for the first time in our collective family memory, one of us has a tan, or something approaching it, because she's really dark but looks orange tinted. it's really weird, i dont think she looks very good like that. she spends every day outside for work, that's how she came by it....if that's what i would look like if i ever achieved a tan, then no wonder my body resists changing skin color! jesus! i don't want to look like a tangerine! tommy looks really hot tan, it makes his muscles look even better, but jen...no.

oh, and i need new good books to read. i've read everything dan brown has written, i can't find that other matt reilly book "contest" ANYWHERE, i've reread all my michael crichton and tom clancy books several times already....i need FRESH BLOOD, people! suggestions?

And Another One

Variations on the Word "Sleep"


I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head

and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear

I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and you enter
it as easily as breathing in

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

-- Margaret Atwood

yeah, i said "poem" of the day, but then i found this one, and it entranced me...it reminded me of some of rae's poetry from high school, and also of the orpheus myth. margaret atwood is a good novelist, but she's also a really excellent poet. i've read five or six of her poems and they're all completely different in subject matter and tone, but they're all amazing. more of her work will undoubtedly be appearing here.

A Poem a Day Keeps the Doctor Away

Even though i've long recognized that i go through phases where i'm just not motivated to write anything, it's still kind of frustrating to have written absolutely nothing for more than two months. strangely, i find that it's when i'm happiest that i write least. when i'm conflicted or when i'm just sort of idling along in life, then i find plenty of things to write about, either the things that are troubling me or just about various aspects of life that i feel like commenting on. isn't it ironic that now, when i'm really enjoying life as much as i probably ever have, i'm not overflowing with happy poems or love poems or any of that crap? i'm just...here.

anyway, i've been reading more poetry lately, trying to get myself in the mood, as it were, and i decided that since i like to randomly post good poems on here anyway, i'm going to try to put up one new poem every day, ala garrison keillor on "prairie home companion". this is not only for my own benefit, in collecting some of my favorite poems on here, but also for the benefit anyone who reads this, whether they're a poetry person or not! so, here is the first official poem of the day:

Musee des Beaux Artes

About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully
along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the plowman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.

-- W. H. Auden

In a field
I am the absence
of field.
This is
always the case.
Wherever I am
I am what is missing.

When I walk
I part the air
and always
the air moves in
to fill the spaces
where my body's been.

We all have reasons
for moving.
I move
to keep things whole.

~Mark Strand

Litany

You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
-Jacques Crickillon

You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.

~Billy Collins

tonight i had dinner with meghan at bertucci's, which was fun. we went to starbucks and barnes and noble after, where i convinced her to buy matt reilly's "temple" to read on the car ride to DC. he's one of tommy's favorite authors, and i've really gotten into his books too. temple was a really good book--it was described in a blurb as "michael crichton meets indiana jones". there's history, mythology, scary beasts, technology, weapons of mass destruction (really!), creepy government agenices, white supremacists...it's pretty darned good.

ok, so the car stereo works when it feels like it now. apparently whatever wire is disconnected magically assumes the position every once in a while, cause i was driving around today and it would work for like an hour and then die again. gah. damn technology.

after two years and 530 posts, i finally changed the template on this baby. you are now able to comment on anything i say/write, so fire away!

tonight sara and i baked brownies and watched this movie "as good as it gets" with jack nicholson and diane keaton...it dragged on forever and there were old people making out and having sex and CRYING so frickin' often, and i had to see jack nicholson's ass hanging out of a hospital gown, which is just not something i wanted to be exposed to, ever. so do not see this movie. it is just not something that youthful people with everything to look forward to in their lives will probably relate to anyway, it's more to give hope to the fifty-and-up crowd that maybe, after a LOT of sobbing and several heart attacks, they can find love again. blah blah blah.

you know what's weird? there were a couple of things that sara said during the course of the evening that just completely cracked me up, just the way she said them, and now i can't even remember what they are!!

oh, a small miracle happened on the way back from work today--my car stereo started working well again! the back speakers turned on, and all the controls worked right, and i was so happy that i spent five minutes in the driveway before going to sara's deciding what music i would play now that i had some real bass and background sound. i decided on NIN and was driving happily down 84-W when suddenly, halfway through "closer", which is one of my all-time favorite songs, IT WENT PSYCHO. AGAIN. gaaaah. the upside is that i have now determined that my head unit is probably fine and my speakers are all functional, it's just the wiring that's loose, which tommy says is really easy to fix and won't cost much. thank god.

oh, i've also decided that at some point i need to hijack tommy's system, because i reeeeeaaaallly want to know how some of my music (read: GOOD music) would sound with the benefit of a $1200 sound system. his trunk is practically filled by the box for the subwoofers--can you imagine what Tool would sound like with that baby cranked up? (if you don't listen to or like Tool, probably not). it would be infinitelyy better than the rap crap i'm usually forced to listen to at deafening volume. i myself would not spend that much money on....anything, pretty much, short of a nice vacation, but i'm not above wheedling others into letting me use their expensive investments.

i really want to go back to europe. like, REALLY REALLY. junior year cannot come soon enough. i want to give france another try, to see some more of their museums, especially the musee d'orsay. hopefully the dollar will be stronger against the euro by then, because it was really nice to visit spain and have thousands upon thousands of pesetas in exchange for a few hundred american dollars. damn european union, always trying to keep the tourists down!

i borrowed the moulin rouge soundtrack from sara...the movie may be a little too blinding for me at times, but i love the music. love love love. especially these:

Your Song

My gift is my song and this one's for you
And you can tell everybody that this is your song
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
Hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is now you're in the world

I sat on the roof and I kicked off the moss
Well some of the verses well, they...they got me quite cross
But the sun's been kind while I wrote this song
It's for people like you that keep it turned on

So excuse me forgetting but these things I do
You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue
Anyway the thing is what I really mean
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

And you can tell everybody this is your song
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is now you're in the world

Come What May


Never knew I could feel like this
Like I've never seen the sky before
I want to vanish inside your kiss
Every day I Love You more and more

Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing
Telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I Love You, until the end of time

Come what may
Come what may
I will Love You
Until my dying day

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste
It all revolves around you

And there's no mountain too high
No river too wide
Sing out this song,
I'll be there by your side

Storm clouds may gather
And stars may collide
But I Love You, I Love You,
Until the end of time

Oh, come what may, come what may
I will Love You, until my dying day
Oh come what may, come what may
I will Love You, I will Love You

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Come what may
Come what may
I will Love You
Until my dying day

those songs are just so beautiful. it helps that ewan mcgregor is really beautiful, too. and yes, my favorite songs are the cheesy love songs, but you know what, i don't care, because i realized the last time that i watched moulin rouge, with wendy a few weeks back, that when you really do love someone, those songs take on such a sweeter meaning. at this point in life, i can't really promise to love anyone until my dying day...but those songs just make me feel so wonderful about life.

PS, i love steven, heather's gay best friend. he is just so damn cool, and he liked sully from "dr. quinn, medicine woman" too!! it was funny to see how he literally fit in as one of the girls. this was my first time actually spending time with him, and i understand much more now why he's heather's best friend. i'm glad they found each other!

a slow day at work and a grumpy disposition (could it be PMS rearing its ugly head? who knows...) ultimately led me to doing two things that were probably a little ill-advised: number one being paying $4.50 for the sunday edition of the times, which didnt even have anything that interesting in it, and number two being making a vicious mental list of all my faults, failings, and flaws. yes, as you can imagine, this was both uplifting and spiritually enlightening. or not.

most of these pecadillos are garden-variety teenager; i think malicious thoughts, i'm selfish, i covet, etc etc etc. i realized that i'm a worrier. not that i have meltdowns or anything, but sometimes i just let myself be over-run by worries and fears about what could happen in a given situation. also, i often let my imagination run away with me and then get let down when reality fails to live up to my mental creations (for example this weekend, when i got out of bed to use the bathroom in the morning only to come back to find tommy gone. of course my brain decided to suppose that he had gone downstairs to make me breakfast in bed, which he had mentioned once before at my house, so i hopped back into bed to see if i would be surprised. twenty-five minutes later, a hungry michelle descended to find tommy watching tv in the living room, eating oatmeal). i have no right to be upset about this kind of thing because i completely bring it upon myself, but it's like i can't help it. i really do have an active imagination, and in any given situation i can come up with so many fun or romantic scenarios, most of which will never be realized.

also, a few of these flaws actually kind of took me by surprise in admitting them to myself. like how i can, secretly, be a jealous person. it's not anywhere close to the point where'd i'd freak out over my significant other talking to someone of the opposite gender (amusing anecdote: when i met tommy's ex-girlfriend cait at his grandpa's wake, i strangely found myself feeling more territorial about her rearranging wendy's hair for her than about her talking to/hugging tommy. i was like, what, get away from my roommate, biotch!) it's just that i realized that even though i've always tried to tell myself that i'm really not jealous at all, and could point to the fact that i didn't mind greg making out with annie in front of me (and let's be honest, i thought it was hot) and wouldn't mind if tommy did the same, to prove that hey, i don't have a jealous bone in my body, i still do have those flashes of "grrrr" when tommy talks about another girl. i hate that, because i'm supposed to be more secure than that. that's not supposed to bother me, because i know that tommy's not going to be chasing skirts or anything, and hell, i mention guys who are hot. it's not all the time, either. it's just sometimes, if he compliments another girl to me or something, that i'm thinking, how DARE you think another girl is hot! i am the only female creature that walks on this planet!! (is this possibly natural? i don't know).

the other really frustrating thing that i realized about myself is that i'm secretly high maintenance. heather laughed mockingly when i said that "everyone" had labeled me not high maintenance (everyone being aaron, greg, andrew, and charles). i'm not HM in the sense that i demand regular tribute in the form of, say, the kind of tacky $150 gold necklace from zales that can later be pawned for twenty dollars (as an unnamed associate of mine discovered). as i told tommy once, the kind of jewelry i like best can be purchased in hot topic, and sometimes even claire's...i like black, i like ribbons and bows, i like chokers and sparkly beads and dangly things. i don't like rocks too much *J-Lo background music* actually the only piece of jewelry i can think of that i'd ever really want, besides, you know, the wedding kind, would be a claddagh ring. i'm kind of torn here; on the one hand i'd like to get it as a gift from tommy, because then it would have even more meaning. on the other hand, i feel like i should just buy it myself, and save myself the trouble of trying to subtly communicate to him that that's what i want, which could take god knows how long. and come on, no one really wants to have to be so blatant as to leave catologues with their gift of choice circled in marker lying around. or at least i don't.

anyway, my kind of HM is more that i get irrationally frustrated if someone doesn't respond to text messages, phone calls, or IMs in a timely fashion. it's not just with tommy, actually...i kind of get that way with everyone, except people i don't like. i don't know why. especially with text messages (which are a DISEASE), with them i'm like dammit, i TMed you TEN MINUTES AGO what the hell is the matter with you! and then im like whoa, calm down, maybe they're driving or using the bathroom or in the middle of making you some wonderfully creative present--oops, there goes my imagination again.

anyway, thinking about all this gave me enough to chew on for my six hour shift. i've got another one tomorrow, so maybe i'll try to figure out some ways to....be a perfect human being. not too lofty a goal for an afternoon, eh? eh?