.: Happy Halloween :.

From Worth1000.com:

.: The Morning Sad :.

Its these mornings that are the worst times of the day for me. I'll lay here for a long while hearing the neighborhood slowly waking up. If I make too much noise waking up the dogs will wake too and whine to go out. So I lay still suffering through another fit of sadness. Eventually I will do what I do now and open up the laptop to type through my thoughts ignoring Oogo trying to put his massive (and now whining) head onto the keyboard. When the writing or the whining is enough, I'll feed the dogs and dress to go out for our walk. Sometimes if I'm lucky, I catch Jo before he goes to work. He'll ask how I am and I'll have to try not to cry. This is when I will get my morning hug and the "everything will be ok".

Well *this morning I found this soon after opening up my laptop. Blame tdj. Follow the link to the essay, I found that interesting. But it was this quote in tdj's cut:

Assuming that it is possible to compare happiness across people (and I don't really see why not), then there is a happiest person alive. That person is probably a genetic deviant, like the tallest person, the smartest person, or the fastest person. And, the thing is, they probably aren't that much happier than many of us. I think we have to accept the possibility that many people who are alive today are about as happy as people get. We may be banging against the upper limits of our (non-reengineered) hedonic capacity. And that's precisely why people are looking for something else or more, or whatnot.

Because happiness is just one of the good things that makes a life go well, not the thing that makes a life go well. Being happy is like having a good pair of shoes. They'll take you lots of places. But you still need somewhere to go. And you still need pants.

I loved the pants bit too. I'm off to feed the dogs and I think I hear Jo...

.:W0000000t!! :.

Woot I say!

Manda’s enthusiasm is underwhelming.

Story: Hedds, the die-hard Cubs fan, has been irritated with her fiancé, Matt who is a hard core White Sox fan. Not just because of the World Series, but it certainly wasn’t helping that he was able to brag on his team. The evening of Game 3 my sister is particularly pissed off at Matt and tells me she’s gone ahead and hexed the game. Through the game she’s texting me that her curse is working. I watch OT without a peep from her. Turns out she’d fallen asleep by then and so the Sox won. (Neither of us really buys into hexing but Hedds knew it the Astros best pitcher. She’d figured out it was the best night to come out with cursing results for Matt and the WS.)

.: Pumpkin :.

Blame tdj. One day I'll meet this dude.... This is brilliant...Brilliant!

.: Stop :.

I just kinda wanna stop.

I want to stop.

I’m really tired of being who I am. I am up for change. But I want to take the needle off the record and be quiet. Just stop.

There must be something about living in an emotional vacuum when you are a child. You don’t really know “good” or “happy”, likewise “sadness”. You can grasp at the ghostly filaments of your relationships and try to weave great dreams. You create and try to survive and be happy with what little scraps you have. Or you can destroy and render apart what binds you to other people. People, that hell of uncertainty, can be severed loose and you can float in the familiar emptiness.

I’ve done both. I’m not sure which is worse… For me, for now, it’s the same. And I still want to stop.

.: Right Lyrics :.

You know how you come across the perfect song on the radio dial after you've wretched your poor poor heart out begging for love and attention? yeah... Imma fool...a fool for nothin'


Everything To Me - Liz Phair

I bet it makes you laugh
Watching me work so hard to reach you
You never gave a damn
About all of those things I did to please you

All that you wanted, you found somewhere else
And nothing could drag you away from yourself

Do you really know me at all?
Would you take the time to catch me if I fall?
Are you ever gonna be that real to me?
Everything to me

Lucky I've been through hell
Backroads and shortcuts I know them well
Baby just stick with me
We'll make it together, just wait and see

Do you really know me at all?
Would you take the time to catch me if I fall?
Are you ever gonna be that real to me?
Everything to me

The walls they close in
The air it goes out
We're left with nothing but a shadow of doubt
Nobody talks, no one is here
It's just you and me

Do you really know me at all?
Would you take the time to catch me if I fall?
Are you ever gonna be that real to me?
Everything to me

Do you really know me at all?
Would you take the time to catch me if I fall?
Are you ever gonna be that real to me?
Everything to me

I bet it makes you laugh
Watching me work so hard to reach you

UPDATE: Woot! Way to go Liz on the the 7th inning stretch...

.: A Good Wife :.

Nana just sent me these notes:




... made think of this Nellie McKay song.

I Wanna Get Married - Nellie McKay

I wanna get married
Yes, I need a spouse
I want a nice Leave it to Beaverish
Golden retriever and a little white house
I wanna get married
I need to cook meals
I wanna pack you cute little lunches
For my Brady bunches
Then read Danielle Steele
I wanna escape
This rat race I've created
I'm feelin' enervated
I don't care if I make it
I just want to bake a sugar cake for you
To take to work in the morn
And I'll stay home cleaning the dishes
And keeping your wishes all warm
I wanna get married
That's why I was born

I wanna partake in bake sales for the classroom
I wanna hear the sweet tune
Of Sally's little vroom-vroom
As she zooms around my broom
As I exhume the gloom
Of my shallow life
I wanna be simple and honest and dimpled
'cause I am your wife
I will never tarry
I'm not even torn
I wanna get married
That's why I was born

.: Casino Swing Night :.

I've finally recovered from another outstanding party with my sisters.



This one hosted by the 20/30 Club. Hedds' fiance Matt and his brother are members of this group. Their annual fundraiser was held in one my most favouritist places in the world, Union Station. The cleared out all the benches and the bums and to set up Blackjack, Roulette, Craps, and Texas Hold 'Em tables. A horn band, The Business, had a super pregnant songstress that sang The Pussycat Dolls', "Don't Cha." More importantly, no less than twenty bartenders stationed at tables surrounding the event were on hand to ply us with premium liquors and beers. Needless to say I was "wastemanated" by the end of the evening. I didn't fare as badly as some others that went onto fertilize the foliage at the after party at dick's. Fun times. I'll have to do this again next year...

.: In a nutshell :.

I could just imagine me sayin this if I went drinkin' with Manda... Lifted from Overheard in New York.


Hipster girl: At this point, I would totally trade in my crotch for real love.

--1st Avenue & 8th Street

.: Roots Down :.

“You have to put some roots down,” Roobie said.

It’s true.

So this morning I’ve decided to go home to Downers Grove and try to make it a home. I’ve spent all week at other’s peoples’ places and being happier there. At times I have to wonder at what price. At the Unicorn’s, it’s the price of the appearance of impropriety. With Roobie, it may the price of a new friendship. With dick, it’s a price that I don’t want to pay. I may be all wrong with these assumptions. However, it’s not the worth the risk.

Besides, I think that there is a greater lesson to be learned. I am always at the whim of my mother’s mood or malevolence. I don’t have to be. I usually fear any sort of comment or criticism. It can control my day, my mind, and my mood. I still hide from her in my room or away the city. All the while I feel dependent on her for my happiness or well-being. Or resentful for her not understanding or loving me. I think I can better understand that I cannot rely on her moods, her incredibly unpredictable moods or behaviours to shape or change or motivate me.

This week has kinda steeled me against the feeling that I’ve nowhere else to harbor from these times that I’ve been off kilter. I understand that IF I have to move out, I have my sisters and my friends to fall back to for support and/or a couch.

Meanwhile, I still haven’t gotten kicked out. I still, of course, am unaware of why my mother is not speaking to us. But I do need to put roots down where I am relatively safe. Downers Grove is the place. For all my mother’s moodiness, it’s where I am the safest without risk or indebtedness.

In general, I’m more and more aware of the instances that I might have taken things too personally and reacted well out of proportion…. I gotsta fix that too.

.: home :.

wrote this the other night.. doesn't make alot of sense but it needed to be noted so all ya'll(and myself)can keep track of my dramas.

Home.

I grew up in Downers Grove.

My mother’s house is there now. My family including my father moved there from Skokie, IL in 1980.

I’ve hated that house for a long time. I hate the house my father lives in now after his separation from my mother in 2001.

I’ve been kinda homeless since then.

I’ve moved back to the house in Downers Grove when I left Champaign in 1999. My mom stopped talking to me at the Spring of 2001. This was probably after I’d witness what would be my parents’ final yelling match. I’d moved to the frat house in the Summer of 2001. I lived there will belcanto. We got displaced when the building was closed by both the fire and health departments. We lucked out and got to live in blonde brian’s Gold Coast condo for a while. Then I went off to England for my dear cousine’s wedding. Then I lived in Heathrow for three days after Sept. 11. When I finally was able to fly out of England. My boyfriend at the time let me stay with him. That lasted about three months. Arif, one of my best friends and collaborators, took me in after that. I stayed there until I moved into an apartment with a co-worker in Spring of 2002. I moved out when I couldn’t make rent. Moved some of my things to my father’s house in Logan Square. My boyfriend at *that* time offered to let stay with him when we heard gunshots as I was moving things. We soon after moved to our own place around the time I started up massage school in the Fall of 2002. By next Spring, I overstayed my welcome with that boyfriend and moved all of my things to my father’s place. My living arrangements with my father are well documented in ma blog. (Here and here and here being my favorite entries.) My father asked me to move out in the Spring 2004 since I was giving him and his new bride a lot of attitude.

So back to Downers Grove. So for the last few weeks, my mother has barely said hello to me. If anything at all is been some small criticism. She’d, of course, been very civil of I’d had friends visiting but out side of that – nothing.

It’s the beginning of the end I can feel it. I would much rather leave than have to hear her ask me to leave as she so graciously did to my little sister when she was living with her.

Its been noted that I can make myself at home just about anywhere. I’ve probably slept on the couch or in the bed of most of my friends. But even when living with boyfriends, I never felt home. I’ll get glimpses of it Sunday Brunches with Sunday Papers, little dinner parties with friends, or sitting and imDbing a DVD as we are watching it. I so crave it. I so miss it.

Recently I spent a morning on the computer, working on a Sudoku puzzle, and listening to NPR in bed. It wasn’t my bed in my home. But it was what I felt home should feel like. It was comfortable.

And then it was gone.

Yeah, so things are kinda sucky right now.

.: Open Letter :.

I’d learnt my lesson after burning a huge pile of unsent letters earlier this year: go ahead and send off the letter. As it wasn’t writ from spite, there’s some good ideas in it. That and I’ve a good zinger or seven when I write at the moment and from the heart.

To my dearest morons, the idiot savants of emotional intelligentsia,

Just few notes to take with you as you go on to conquer lamer ass pussy:

-Do not go and have incredible sex with a girl more than twice in one morning and then break it off or never call back. If you really wanted to be a real ass, lay off the sex, plant the seed in her head that you are cheating on her and *then* break it off and/or never call her back

-Dude, do not go and make out with a good friend of hers and NOT think that its going to get back to her and bite you in the butt.

-Pay her back for the money she lent you to that paid for your drugs/alcohol/skank whores/rent.

-She’s not calling you back for a reason. Seriously. That and trying to contact her through MySpace or Friendster does not make a difference.

-Being emotional and brooding looks good on James Dean and Marlon Brando. In the Movies. Not you.

-If you can see the future, and KNOW that its not going to work out as a relationship or even a one night stand. Do NOT stick your dick in her NOW. You might get away with it if you do it LATER, while you are drunk.

-Girls will like you. A lot. And for reals. Suck it up.

That and bugger off...
love, t

.: I'm Cheating :.

...on my boyfriend with the Unicorn's Power Book G4..

I'm stroking it everything in front of everybody at the White Palace and getting myself all *shudder*...

Manda - Imma bitch. I'm sorry. I will totally make it up to you this weekend. And your bf is cooler than the Unicorn's...