I kind of feel weird about fat kids. I mean number one, they are extra cute when they are fat. But sometimes they are just fat. I am looking right now at a fat kid. There was only one kid that was qualified as fat in my grade school. Not like this, though. This is one of those Maury Povich type of fat kids. I wonder what the mom feeds her.
Tonight I am going to
wow...the grandfather just raises his hand as if to hit her, just cause she wanted to take her coat off. Sigh. Gross.
Anyway, I was going to say that I'm going to curl up on my couch with a cup of cocoa and some absurd movie that makes me feel good, and I'm going to watch it. I hope my apartment isn't 3957398 degrees as it has been the last 3 days. I think I'm the only one in the OWE who can complain about how hot the apartment is...everyone else is complaining at how cold they have to keep it or how their landlord keeps it so chilly.
Hot cocoa, man.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Dog Haus.
I'm feeling poetic lately. Not that I am able to write poetry, but that I could. Meaning, I'm coming up with interesting ideas in my head, or watching what other people do and reading what they do and wishing. I'm looking at the poetry in lyrics of a song, and wondering how they created them. I wish I knew where my terrible highschool poetry went, because that stuff was classic. Classic shit.
My party went with only a few hitches this year. First, people either got the date wrong (!!Marisa!!), told me I told them too far in advance for it (I'm to blame?!?!), or just didn't show up. No problem really, less food means more leftovers. I think though, I'm absolutely sick of green bean casserole. No no, I lie. I could eat more.
The turkey was the juiciest it has ever been. I used a bag which I did one year as well, but this time I followed a recipe online that had all this secret shizz like rubbing a lemon on the inside of the turkey and a handful of salt as well, or the olive oil and garlic salt on the skin of the turkey. Then I stuck half a peeled onion and some celery in the thoraxxx of the bird and threw it in the oven.
The person who was supposed to help me prepare everything bailed on me, which was to be expected. At least I got some potatoes peeled out of them. I think this weekend was another lesson learned. I need to, if I don't want someone to come, to tell them not to come. Because I can't manage having someone walk all over me especially if I know ahead of time that they are going to do so. How many life lessons can one learn before 30? I will keep you informed.
The problem is that I am becoming bitter. I'm becoming cynical, and the flowers are not looking like they used to look and the sunrise is being slept through.
My party went with only a few hitches this year. First, people either got the date wrong (!!Marisa!!), told me I told them too far in advance for it (I'm to blame?!?!), or just didn't show up. No problem really, less food means more leftovers. I think though, I'm absolutely sick of green bean casserole. No no, I lie. I could eat more.
The turkey was the juiciest it has ever been. I used a bag which I did one year as well, but this time I followed a recipe online that had all this secret shizz like rubbing a lemon on the inside of the turkey and a handful of salt as well, or the olive oil and garlic salt on the skin of the turkey. Then I stuck half a peeled onion and some celery in the thoraxxx of the bird and threw it in the oven.
The person who was supposed to help me prepare everything bailed on me, which was to be expected. At least I got some potatoes peeled out of them. I think this weekend was another lesson learned. I need to, if I don't want someone to come, to tell them not to come. Because I can't manage having someone walk all over me especially if I know ahead of time that they are going to do so. How many life lessons can one learn before 30? I will keep you informed.
The problem is that I am becoming bitter. I'm becoming cynical, and the flowers are not looking like they used to look and the sunrise is being slept through.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
My Friend Again.
Michelle: just for fun
alicia: i just puked up last night's vittles because of that photo thanks
Michelle: dont you just wanna squeeze em? and say toot toot!
alicia: i wanna squeeze them with my tongue
Michelle: you gonna need a big tongue, sho!
Michelle: what if it popped and chocolate pudding came out?
alicia: mmmmmm
alicia: best scenario
Michelle: im laughgingigihging
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Every now and then it is okay to have a pity party on your blog.
I'm so tired that my eyes are melting inside my head. After everything last night, and saying on twitter that I wanted to punch everything until it bleeds, I had the greatest phone conversation for over an hour with my friend Kate in Columbus. I forget how much I like our one on one time. The last couple times I've seen her its been with a whole bunch of other Columbus folks. So yeah, she cheered me up, and we made some crazy ass videos on a secret youtube channel, and I laughed so hard that tears were streaming like wet ribbons down my face, and I almost had a coronary.
Sometimes you just have to realize everything will be A-Ok. Now I see that Marisa finally updated her journal, so I'm gonna go check that out.
I'm so tired that my eyes are melting inside my head. After everything last night, and saying on twitter that I wanted to punch everything until it bleeds, I had the greatest phone conversation for over an hour with my friend Kate in Columbus. I forget how much I like our one on one time. The last couple times I've seen her its been with a whole bunch of other Columbus folks. So yeah, she cheered me up, and we made some crazy ass videos on a secret youtube channel, and I laughed so hard that tears were streaming like wet ribbons down my face, and I almost had a coronary.
Sometimes you just have to realize everything will be A-Ok. Now I see that Marisa finally updated her journal, so I'm gonna go check that out.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Exact Essence of BooHooing.
Is it too much to ask to be wooed? I'm so sick of being the wooer. Today, well tonight, I almost started crying over not being able to sign up for the converter box for this whole digital tv thing happening in about a month. The website said I had already gotten my coupons for it...but that is impossible. My neighbors probably didn't put an apt number, or STOLE my apartment number, and now I'm not getting a converter box.
That, and the fact that my hormones are at unruly and basically cannibalistic levels isn't helping either. I haven't had a good cry in months. I don't think I have cried in months. I think I started to or did a little bit after getting in a car accident, but it was only for a flush few seconds. There is a good chance that I am becoming the emotional robot my father is. That worries me a lot.
I'm sick of girls playing head games too. I don't like that. I want happiness and cuteness and stupid silly things being done for each other and secret smiles and shining eyes. We don't have to love each other, maybe not yet, but I want to feel wanted. Every girl I know is fucked up in some department, and I'm becoming more and more of a recluse of the heart. Well, it just isn't in the cards for me, another year can just go by again in such ways as it has for so long.
I don't feel I can be too real on here, I keep that for another journal. I feel like this one, although it is more secret than my other journal (how secret this one is, I'm unsure) has an emotional-depth halt on it. I poured my shit out to somebody tonight. It wasn't that big of a deal, just what I talked about here, and how I was made to feel like some sort of derelict for not going to my friend's birthday party. I found out about the party tonight at work, and I still don't have a car. Granted, I'm like 2 minutes driving from this bar, and fifteen minutes walking, maybe more since there was some sort of snow storm today. I would have to pass through the worst part of bancroft, and by myself at night in the winter time.
After I just heaved a wave or almost an onslaught of my worries to this person, they basically told me well see ya its getting late and I'm on my way there to this very bar for that same party. I'm laughing a bit now, because it is kind of looney. Why the fuck do I care so much. I just do. And I guess I expected more from this person. Maybe I expect too much from everyone. I'm tired of pulling the fiber out of my essence in order to give to others, and for something so simple to be so hard to ask for.
When I think of J, I think about how much I gave, and the emotional nights of crying in bed while she slept beside me, the heart break I wouldn't even allow myself to recognize within myself. I felt like a failure in so many ways, and it was the culmination of too many bad relationships. Shipwrecked in another, trying to fix it and hold onto it at the same time, trying to piece parts out of it that were still worth something, I lost something of me. And it has been almost four years since then and I still am not sure what I misplaced, all I really can feel is this sort of emptiness.
In a way, I don't want to be what I am. I wish I could change what would make life easier for me. Along the way of growing up, I didn't learn enough about love. My parents never were affectionate with one another, and I still suppress myself when it comes to showing too much affection to my friends. I grew up to look at love with a cynical eye, the lies within love, the calculation of love bridled by those that I thought I loved.
Maybe this is too much for a Saturday night. I don't know exactly what I am trying to say. I'm sad, but not enough for it to count.
That, and the fact that my hormones are at unruly and basically cannibalistic levels isn't helping either. I haven't had a good cry in months. I don't think I have cried in months. I think I started to or did a little bit after getting in a car accident, but it was only for a flush few seconds. There is a good chance that I am becoming the emotional robot my father is. That worries me a lot.
I'm sick of girls playing head games too. I don't like that. I want happiness and cuteness and stupid silly things being done for each other and secret smiles and shining eyes. We don't have to love each other, maybe not yet, but I want to feel wanted. Every girl I know is fucked up in some department, and I'm becoming more and more of a recluse of the heart. Well, it just isn't in the cards for me, another year can just go by again in such ways as it has for so long.
I don't feel I can be too real on here, I keep that for another journal. I feel like this one, although it is more secret than my other journal (how secret this one is, I'm unsure) has an emotional-depth halt on it. I poured my shit out to somebody tonight. It wasn't that big of a deal, just what I talked about here, and how I was made to feel like some sort of derelict for not going to my friend's birthday party. I found out about the party tonight at work, and I still don't have a car. Granted, I'm like 2 minutes driving from this bar, and fifteen minutes walking, maybe more since there was some sort of snow storm today. I would have to pass through the worst part of bancroft, and by myself at night in the winter time.
After I just heaved a wave or almost an onslaught of my worries to this person, they basically told me well see ya its getting late and I'm on my way there to this very bar for that same party. I'm laughing a bit now, because it is kind of looney. Why the fuck do I care so much. I just do. And I guess I expected more from this person. Maybe I expect too much from everyone. I'm tired of pulling the fiber out of my essence in order to give to others, and for something so simple to be so hard to ask for.
When I think of J, I think about how much I gave, and the emotional nights of crying in bed while she slept beside me, the heart break I wouldn't even allow myself to recognize within myself. I felt like a failure in so many ways, and it was the culmination of too many bad relationships. Shipwrecked in another, trying to fix it and hold onto it at the same time, trying to piece parts out of it that were still worth something, I lost something of me. And it has been almost four years since then and I still am not sure what I misplaced, all I really can feel is this sort of emptiness.
In a way, I don't want to be what I am. I wish I could change what would make life easier for me. Along the way of growing up, I didn't learn enough about love. My parents never were affectionate with one another, and I still suppress myself when it comes to showing too much affection to my friends. I grew up to look at love with a cynical eye, the lies within love, the calculation of love bridled by those that I thought I loved.
Maybe this is too much for a Saturday night. I don't know exactly what I am trying to say. I'm sad, but not enough for it to count.
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