The Harley Renaissance.

I don't really feel as though I'm back from my vacation yet. I just spend so much time at home! I was home all last week and last weekend, I was home this weekend, and not next weekend, but the one after is Easter... I'll be home then, too. ...And I'm not so sure if it's all a good idea. Home isn't really my home anymore, you know? This is my home. And I'm glad to be here. This is the place for me now. My parents' is good to visit every once in a while, and I don't mind helping them get it livable, because I want them to be comfortable at last, but I can't be there all the time. I need to be here. I need to be... I need to not be interrupted from being here. I need to focus. It's difficult to do when I can't settle in.

I missed fighting on Sunday. That makes me so upset -- it was such a gorgeous day. I still can't get over it! I tried to leave Cleveland early, but for the whole first half of the way I was stuck behind some log truck, and so it took almost twice as long as it should have. Then, I got lost getting to the field... something funky with 270 and 670 and 62... I was never very good at numbers.... I mean, the ride wasn't a total waste -- I found a fabric store and picked up the fabric I needed.

Daddy and I had a good time at our dance.
Morgan was here before that. She and I had a good time too.

I saw the councilor today. She's very nice. I feel bad, though, since I don't really know what I'm doing there. I know I need to be there, but... I... I have no idea. I wonder what it will take to fix this mess of a life I've managed to get myself in. And you can't get out, you know. Crazy people mess you up, and they never leave you alone. And amazing people set you up for amazing things, but... not being amazing yourself, you're not capable of fulfilling the plan. You make these goals... and it's not that you hit road blocks, it's that you realize they're not there. I need a reality check. One of those "Sarah Kopcso for Sainthood" moments... minus the alcohol. It's like coloring outside the lines. See, crayon doesn't erase very well at all, so when you color outside the lines and then you try to erase it, you just end up making it worse. But it's irreversible. It's irreversible whether you try to erase it or not, but in retrospect, you feel like it would have been better to not have tried to erase it at all.

I'm trying to find another job again. I'm checking out a new hiring sign today. Let's pray. Two other applications to look into, as well.
Mass laundry to do.
Peace out, war in.

Hello, fellow citizen. Would you like to ride with Batman?

I don't think it's wrong at all. Do you? Do you think it's wrong that after every time I watch a Batman movie I want to be Batman? See, I don't find anything wrong with that. ...You know, in a perfect world. Nothing wrong at all. Nothing wrong with that whole... justice thing.... Ideals. Symbols. ...Something.... I want to be Batman. I want to be a symbol. Something indestructible, something eternal. I want to be something that can live forever after I've gone. I just don't think it's going to happen.
That's one of the reasons why I love movies so much, you know. Movies are just for-goddamn-ever. They are their own legacy. They are the stories captured and expressed with visual, nature, personal, expansive, music, language... they are real emotion. The good ones, anyway... the good movies are made up of everything that people value in expression and communication. I'm never going to get over it. I want to make movies happen. ...Because I believe that they are important. Beautiful.


I wish I could.



Mmm... my favorite movie of all time is going to be on tonight. Lawrence of Arabia. I shouldn't stay up to watch the whole thing, or I'll never get up in the morning. It doesn't start until eleven-thirty, and you know, it just goes on and on forever. But I love every part of it. Eh... I'm never going to get up in the morning. And I have to get back to Columbus tomorrow. Sigh. Oh, well.
That's going to be my next impulse retail therapy purchase. For certain. The Lawrence of Arabia superbit DVD. That and Monster Ballads, but... most importantly, that. I honestly don't know why I don't have it. I don't have any of the movies I should. I have everything in the world I don't need, but I don't have the movies and albums and books I need. And that's all I want. I don't understand.
People always ask "what would you do with a million dollars." I would buy every DVD and CD and book I needed. Every last one. Well, first I'd invest it and start making some good interest on it. Then I'd spend it. All. Heh.

I just made the best investment in the world yesterday. I went to the botanical gardens and parked at a meter. The meter was broken and wouldn't take any more coins. I would have protested a ticket for that, since I tried to pay. So, to communicate that I tried to pay (just in case), I left a nickel in the slot. When I came back two hours later, I had no ticket, and I went to retrieve my nickel. It was gone, but on the ground next to the meter I found a dime. One hundred percent returns in two hours?? I'll take that shit any day of the week.

Anyway, time for me to get back to my hott date with sofa and popcorn. Details at eleven.

The girl that butchered the Buddha's thing.

So, some hoodlum dropped his loot in my parents' back yard while he was running from the cops. Now my brother has a new portable DVD player. Good job. It's a good story.

Hmm, speaking of which....
I like good stories. They make for good stories. ...C'mon, what are you laughing at, heheh. But, seriously, you always need to appreciate the story. Show a little respect.
So, here's what I'm thinkin'... All universes exist. Universes upon universes existing with every possible combination of every possible possibility. (And in the infinite, every possibility is possible). C'mon, think about it. Make you're brain hurt a little for me on this one. Contemplate the infinite for a second -- it really sucks. There's a universe exactly exactly exactly like this one right now except that I didn't blink just now. Everything in all our lives and all the rest of our universe is happening exactly the same except for that. That's just awful. Same thing goes for the universe where I just ran over Gandhi with my car. Like, the one where I was driving my car instead of sitting here, and I ran over him, but also the one where I was sitting here at this desk, and then all of a sudden, I was in a car and ran over Gandhi, and then I was suddenly here again and typing it. See, in some universes that's just normal. Sucks. Then there's the universe where you're Genghis Kahn, so when you get those flashes of your past life as Genghis Kahn, well, it's more like you're just tapping into another part of yourself.
All time is happening right now. At the same time. When a river flows, water happens at the beginning of the river, but it moves further down the river. If you're standing at the end of that river, that water isn't still happening at the beginning with another water happening in the middle and another happening at the end. It's all continually changing. In a photo book, you take a photo of a moment that happened and put it in the book. When you turn the page, that photo isn't that moment still happening in that place on the page -- it's somewhere else. Every moment is completely refreshed and solitary from every other moment. If I put a desk into another room, would it still be that desk? No, of course not. For that desk to ever be the same desk it would have to be there in the same place exactly as it is at that exact moment with everything in the universe around it exactly as it is at that exact moment all at that moment oh my god my brain hurts something in the universe is always moving and changing at every single moment. Completely refreshed. If you can think of time and life as a river, the past isn't happening right now at a place further up the river. The water's already moved on and is happening somewhere else (and by somewhere else, I definitely mean now), but it's not the same anymore. Creativity is only a person's ability to channel and express other happenings. And right now, someone out there is picking up the wavelength of my life, and seeing it in there head, and writing it down, and having the laugh of their life.

I don't believe in free will or choice. I believe choice is an illusion created by Fate and gifted to humanity because we were not built to capacitate the secrets of the universe. Stop trying. If we had the ability to Know then we would be able to figure it out. I believe that all those universes exist, and for all of them to exist, they must be happening along a very specific path. Think of a magazine quiz. If you answer "yes" to the question, then you go to the next question to the left. If you answer "no", you go to the next question to the right. The brackets branch down and out and all over. If you have cereal for breakfast instead of a bagel then you go to the left. If you have a bagel, you go to the right. And the path continues. And somewhere else, the other path does too.
...It's ten o'clock somewhere.
You know what I love? How you can't win. See, I'm a human, and so I'm going to live a nice, standard human life. It's going to be full of choices. And whatever I choose is what I'm supposed to choose, so I really can't sweat it, can I?

I hate philosophy.
Seriously. Never been a fan. I spent my time thinking, and now I'm making up for it... balancing it all out by not thinking at all -- I have enough to do already. I haven't thought about all of this in a long time. I don't like to anymore... well, not that I did like to before, but it's just something everybody deals with at one point or another, I guess. I've never written it down before, either. Hardly even articulated it. I don't really think philosophy should be written down. It's just something you should have and know for yourself. You don't really need to share it, and you definitely! do not need to try and convince anybody else of it. It's just a part of you. ...Yeah. Yeah, I hate philosophy.
Not to say that this is exactly my whole thing, but... it may be the closest I'm really going to get in writing at this point. And I'm not even going to get into! what you're missing by only reading it. With only words, so much meaning is lost... no intonation or expressiveness in body or face or voice. That's what they mean when they say humans are "social" creatures. It means that interaction is necessary in communication and existence. Integral.

.....It's been a long time since I've thought about this stuff. A good, long time. I have this friend... one of those people who comes into your life, leaves, and then comes back. It's been so long since I've revisited these kinds of things, but he somehow makes me think about it again. I'm really curious to find out what I'm going to learn from him this time. I already think it's so strange how he's reminded me of all kinds of stuff like this... and I guess he has no idea.

So, what're we gonna do tomorrow night, Brain?

Thin Mints.

Happy green day, and all that stuff. No plans for this sad girl today. That's even one down from last year! Oh, well. I got my hair cut today. Finally. It's been way too long... you know how it goes. My Feng Shui gets all off, I get all stressed and down and weird, and I just need that change. Well, I got it. Looks good. I'm happy again. Had the worst headache though... when I woke up. After eight of those magic little pills (two different kinds!), and a three hour nap, and a lot of food and juice to get my blood sugar up, and some caffeine to try and stifle a possible withdrawal... still nothin'. I just don't know. I need a big, fat, Swedish masseuse and a steam room, I think.

My Dad made his daily pilgrimage to the temples of Saint Lowes and Holy Depot again today. Hardware is a demanding god. See, I know the forest always gets darker before it gets lighter, but my parents' place? I'm tellin' ja, it's a new level of dark. Now, I don't know who the hell decided it was a good idea to build this place the way they did, but when I have a real house... under no circumstance am I ever going to have outlets on light switches. I'll swear it right now. It's just damn obnoxious. Impractical. Honestly.

Setting the clock on the VCR has been the easiest part... and that's saying something.

Speak of the devil. Dad just called. Poor guy... got sent out on a hail mary mission to the video store to pick out a chick flick for my Mom and I to watch. They're all out of Pride and Prejudice. It seems like he's gonna have to face a real challenge. Good luck, old man. .....Mom's asleep on the couch.

So, as I sit here with a rare but acute case of music ADD, fattening up on Girl Scout cookies -- irresistible -- I am making my life a little more complicated. Fair to middling? Maybe, but I don't want to pass if I don't have a good reason to. And I don't yet.
Wow, so I definitely just spent the past hour on and off trying to explain that. Not happening. I mean, if you spend an hour writing and revising something so abstract, and still can't even pass one decent sentence, you are obviously not ready to express it yet.

I need new shoes so bad... I have to go run. Stupid Girl Scouts.

A spiritual garage sale.

So, here's this girl. ...Just some girl. Actually, she's been called "the perfect woman" on several occasions, and by several different people -- if that counts for anything. I don't know what that means, exactly. I've thought it means that it's true, but... there's really no way to be sure. Anyway, she sits around her apartment most of the time. Looking at stuff. Sometimes she walks around to look at it, but whatever. She looks at all her stuff. Her shit, her crap, her material possessions. I don't think she really likes them. Nothing is right. It's either not the right kind of stuff, or not the stuff that she'd like to see when she looks at stuff. It's juvenile, it's boring, it's impractical, it's... it's unrepresentative. Plus, there's other people's stuff mixed in in places. That makes it sketchy. Faded lines....

So, I like being realistic. Not to say that I am realistic, but... the sentiment is nice. It's something I aspire to. I don't watch a lot of TV. I don't like TV. I fail to see it's worth anymore. I love. movies. Not just any movie, though. Good movies. I mean... really... just a really fantastic film -- there's nothing else like it in the whole world. Maybe I could never describe it. Same with music. I won't discriminate. If it's good, it's good, and if it's bad, it's bad. If the lyrics are good, but the musicality is bad... it's bad, but with okay lyrics. Heheh. So, I'm particular. Sue me. I like sports. I like the glory days. I like to fight, I like to learn. I like really girly things, like shopping and doing my nails. I like food. I have an elusive fixation with justice, Angels and the desert. I love. stories. And elephants. I like elephants.

I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going, but I'd rather feel like I'm progressing towards something. I want to evolve. It's not exactly a possibility yet, though. But as soon as I get the opportunity, I'm taking it. I'm taking over. I'm taking full, militant control over it. I would rather look at my stuff and look at my life and see the things that I'd like to see there. All the right things in all the right places. If it's important, I'll compromise. If it's not? Forget it.


Kate and I are going to go into business together. I like Kate. She's the kind of person I like having as a friend. She's realistic... she's normal. Believe me, that's huge. After all the f***ing crazy people I've wasted my time on?! I don't want to waste my time anymore. I'm learning little by little what kind of shit I just don't need to take in my life. And I'm getting rid of it. Sure, it hurts. I'm hacking off chunks of my life one at a time. I'm just dropping pieces of myself on the side of the road. People, possessions, thoughts... all these things that make me who I am. Things that have shaped me... are going. Because they are not who I am anymore.


I need to get rid of more. Sigh. The clutter is crowding me. And right now, I think I need some space.

You know, some people come into your life, and they stay there. Some people come into your life, and then they go away. Some people come and go, and then come back again. ...And each time... each encounter... you learn something. All that we are is the direct result of what happens to us. Every person you come into contact with trades a little bit of their self with you for a little bit of yours. We all build each other, and we all become... what we are.

Man, I didn't get anything accomplished today.

Home remedies.

So, I have this thing... I have this thing for medicine. Don't get me wrong! but, damn, I love. medicine. Think about this one for a minute -- bear with me. You're hurting. Any kind of hurt! Your muscles hurt, or you've got cramps, or a headache, or a migraine, or the gash on your leg stings real bad... whatever. So you swallow these little pills... these... little pebbles or capsules or what have you... these magic little... things. You swallow this thing. And it goes down your throat into your stomach... and it knows what to do. Now, I haven't conducted any massive-extensive scientific research or anything, but I'm pretty sure that pill baby doesn't have a brain in it. But it knows what to do! What the hell!?!? Hahahahaha, it goes into you, and then it sees that something's hurting you, and it goes to that place, and it Bruce Lees the pain. Where does it go? I don't know. It goes away.

That's magic. That's gold! I don't know what else to say. I take four Advil on a good day. It used to be Tylenol. Tylenol is the lightest. I took it, cause I knew how I'd be about it. Take one... take two... after a few years, I'm taking four, five, six? Switch to somethin' stronger. Advil -- that little extra kick. I'm takin' four. If it ever gets to five, I'll have to cool it and switch again. Aleve... my, God, that stuff is Bruce Lee on his best day! I'd quit if I ever got to three of those. And then Aspirin. Please don't ever exceed six in four hours! ...Yeah, that takes me to about retirement age, I guess. And then I'm on prescription stuff. Doctor's orders only.


So, I'm just chillin' with Van Halen, digesting my calzone, feeling sorry for my Friday-fried hair. I'm blond again... and by "again," I mean the last time I was only blond for about an hour, but I figured I'd give it a shot this time. Sippin' my late night Dr. Pepper -- Dizzy would be so proud. I know there's a million things I need to do, or be thinking about, but... hey, we're pretty much not functioning upstairs at the moment. Something went to sleep about six days ago, and it's been hitting the snooze button ever since. Once, I hit the snooze button from eight in the morning all the way to noon-thirty. That's my personal best, but... six days....

.....Aragorn is looking at me funny... that's what I get for having to use other people's computers.

The next time you get a chance, you should spend the morning in bed. You might be amazed at how incredible you feel. I mean... when was the last time... you slept.. so restfully. And then woken up, warm and dreamy, turned over and smiled at what you saw... then snuggled back into warm dreams. The next time you wake up, you don't even open your eyes. You can tell the sun is crawling into bed with you too. Then, your cat pads up the comforter to nuzz and purr and cozy up with the team. There's just something so satisfying about consciously turning off the alarm clock. By the end of it all, you're making the coffee just for shits -- not because you actually need it. You just like the smell. Pancakes for lunch on the balcony, and a slow shower. You don't just look beautiful because you're clean. You're happy. Genuinely rested. You take full advantage of that killer inner beauty and get all dressed up. Perfect hair, perfect make-up -- it's time for dinner. You've lost one, whole, entire day. The best day of your life.

Sleep late. Dream more.

If I had a dollar...

So, there I was, flippin' through the latest Vicki's catalog (courtesy of our dear, mysterious benefactor, one, Miss Richie -- thank you, sweetheart), and I was thinking... "God, the Body By Victoria panties look so soft!" and also, "Oh, there's that one bra that I tried on and fell in love with..." as well as, "Hmm, I tried that one on, and it was so uncomfortable! why does everybody rave about it?" ...And then I though... "Well, Hell, I'm one poor girl." So, I crack open a can of Port (that's Mountain Dew Code Red, in case you were wondering. As opposed to Starboard, which is just my regular poison of choice), and I lean back, and I says to myself, I says, "Self, you need to find yourself a better job."

My job sucks. ...And smells like ranch. There is no organization, and no sense of purpose. In fact, it's kind of like Fordham. Let me take a moment to talk to you about Fordham. ..........On second thought... let me tell you what just happened. I thought I would take a moment to talk to you about Fordham, but I ended up with something that was more along the lines of several moments, paragraphs, pages and pages upon pages of Fordham trash talk. I have since made an executive decision to talk to you about Fordham at a later date. Everything has a time and a place, and right now, this is not. it.

I hate getting up off my lazy, blogging ass to put on my ranch-with-flecks-of- raspberry-and-balsamic- vinaigrette-and-a-touch-of-thousand-cesar and stand around for six hours before scrambling in the next two to clean everything as fast as I can. ...I've never hated a job before now. I like to work. I like to earn money. I like to feel accomplished. This job doesn't have enough of any of that. And I've been that salad bar's bitch for more than two months now, and I have yet to see a dime from it's sick, sticky inside. A paycheck would be nice right about now. Funds are low.

Hopefully, the Warehouse will call me back in a couple of weeks. Work for them should be starting again soon. That's a good job. And good people, too. I am a firm believer that the people you work with makes up for eighty percent or so of employee satisfaction. I'd actually like to look around for another job and apply while I'm working for the Warehouse. If my timing is right, I might be able to get another part-time job while I'm working there then give my two-week's notice at the Market...... Well, apparently, a little wishful thinking never hurt.

Now, a rundown:
Feeding and finding cats -- awesome.
The Williams Boys -- hard work. Most tiring. Very rewarding. Paid in cash. Score.
Kidsland -- hard work. Very tiring. LOVE job. Room for advancement. I hate candy. I hate cotton candy more.*
Fordham Security -- not too sucky. Paid to do homework. Great people. Good pay.
Shoveling -- hard work. Maybe tied for most tiring. Not rewarding. Paid in basic necessities of life. Bad job, but I didn't hate it.
The Warehouse -- great job. Decent amount of work. Also room for advancement. Seasonal. Great people.*
Marketplace -- sux.

*faves

Thought of the day? I'd rather just get paid one hundred dollars every time I endure a bad song on the radio.

One of those days.

Classic Rocktopia.

You've all heard the story a thousand times, but this time... just for the record..... I'm gonna tell it to you all straight.

You wake up in the morning. Late. The alarm didn't go off, because you accidentally set it for the P.M. instead of the A.M. Again. You're running all over the place with a constant stream of sailor-esque obscenities. You stub your toe on everything in your apartment that rests on the floor. You can't find a pair of socks or hoes that don't have an obvious hole in them, so you have to compromise your whole outfit. You finally forget about finding the third contact lens you've dropped on the floor, and you don't have time to do your makeup. Fine. At least you have just enough time to run to the lab to print out your paperwork... you know... the lab that's uhh "closed" for... stuff. Doesn't matter. You're late for your appointment. By the time you get there, you've dropped your keys and a ten dollar bill somewhere. You're running on empty. And you're out of coffee... and, you know, ten bucks you could have used to pick a cup up on the way... to somewhere that you don't have time to spare getting to. Your appointment got cancelled you know. You need to deal with the stale, bitchy secretary trying to prove your case that you were not, in fact, that late. Now you're just jumping through hoops of fire and water in a dry clean only skirt. You're scrounging for information and all the people you need to contact are on a cruise in the Caribbean with their phones off. You need medical records and fax numbers, and you run into your supervisor in the elevator who asks you how things are going, and you say AWFUL. You're not even done ranting to him when the elevator doors open, but you keep talking as you exit the elevator. ...On the wrong floor. ......Then you get the call. You're still on the phone with the doctor's office trying to explain to them how your insurance company screwed you over, but you really do have insurance, when you get a call on the other line from your best friend saying they got a parking ticket on your car. As you exasperatedly tear your mail from the mailbox, cutting your hand on the inside latch, to find a bank statement saying that you've overdrawn your account, your phone dies. You throw it down in frustration... watching its three, distinct pieces spiral off in separate directions. Oh, where's that other earring? The water is freezing cold, and the razor is pointed DOWN. kinda day. The drain is clogged and the bottom is flooding up nasty stuff kinda day. You're gonna get fired if you miss work one more day, you have to prepare a presentation and spend the rest of the day with people who make you want to scratch your own eyeballs out with somebody else's toenails and smear the blood all over your elbow and write i hate elbows on the grainy sidewalk with it. Oh... is that dog shit you just stepped in? You are definitely the statue today. You are your f***ing khakis today. And they are stained... in the crotch. God wants to write you a citation for living today. ...Then it starts to rain. And snow. That broken nail snagged your new sweater. You come home to find that your cat was sunbathing in the street and got his back half run over by a car... he dragged himself into your driveway, and then died. And as you look down at his bloody, lifeless form...

Everything that could go wrong does. Every major thing goes wrong. You are so exhausted and can't deal. Every little thing goes wrong on top of all of that, and you just don't have the energy to spend on anything else. If it's not you with no job going nowhere, it's your best friend that just got into drugs and is going very away from you... or, you know... the DUI that your accountant got picked up for. It's impossible to distinguish anymore what is important and what isn't. All you know is that it's all bad.

...You notice that your shoe is untied...... and you just want to die.


But that was yesterday. And today is another day. And I'm laughing. God only knows why. Let's keep on going, 'cause no story should ever end with that poor, sad, dead cat. (Which belonged to my dear Kate. She wouldn't know, but she's been quite an inspiration in this process. My heart goes out to you on that one, baby)! Something is still living on.

I had a blog here once. I don't remember jack about it. Don't remember a username or password. Don't remember any entries. It must have been short lived. Well, now this girl is back again and ready to run with the big dogs. Let's see where this goes.

Peace out. War in.
And all the love in between.