bella livre

I HATE WESTERN MARYLAND

2009-09-08T17:43:00.005-04:00

If anyone can provide a reasonable explanation for the continued existence of western Maryland that excludes any proclamation of how rapturously beautiful the Appalachian Mountains are, I will be very impressed indeed and may possibly reconsider reconsidering my absolute loathing for this region of my home state.

Have I ever lived there? Or spent more than two hours there? No, thank the gods. I have had the good fortune (and I say this with only the slightest irony) of having been raised in Baltimore County, in central Maryland. This is the Maryland I know and love, where we delight in seafood and seafarers. Where we indulgently support our terrible sports teams and complain about how terrible Baltimore is and how boring. Where we visit Ocean City in droves, meandering over the Bay Bridge with determined cheer, resolved to enjoy our trip to the beach even if the beach is little more than an overpriced, overcrowded, overrated maze of hotels, motels, Holiday Inns, mini golf courses, Sunsations, and Candy Kitchens. The Maryland I know is all about the Chesapeake Bay.

Western Maryland is all about Mountains. Mountains? Mountains? I do not understand. I am not wholly ignorant; I too find great joy in watching the sun rise in shades of purple and red as you drive through winding mountain roads. I understand the beauty. But even though I understand the basic concept of Mountainous Beauty, I fail to understand why Western Marylanders take so much damn pride in their damnable Allegheny mountains. And before we continue, yes, perhaps I am slightly biased. Perhaps prejudice resides in these words, for I did receive my first speeding ticket while journeying with a very irritated, very full car, through the mountains early in the morning. My car did not appreciate the change in altitude, nor did it support the whole notion of hills and vales, of steep inclines and precarious declines. It was angry with me the whole way, and I suppose as an act of protest decided to first go ten miles under the speed limit for 45 minutes, then sporadically soar above the speed limit when cops were nearby.

And another thing. I object to the standards to which police officers in western Maryland adhere. A speeding ticket for 74 in a 65 is laughable on a highway in Baltimore County, unless the officer happens to be incredibly ill-tempered and bored. They are too busy focusing on the people going 90 miles an hour, or 100. But this officer was downright jovial and pleasant, which confused me. Doesn't he have better things to do? Like catch that SUV who is most definitely exceeding the posted limit more egregiously than I? Clearly, western Marylanders are law-abiding citizens, which makes any sort of minor transgression a big deal. I mean, their law-abidingness is all well and good for them but wreaks havoc on those of us used to greater leniency.

Therefore, it is my humble opinion that we do away with Western Maryland. The mountainous regions of Garrett County, Allegheny County, Washington County, and even the not-so-mountainous Frederick County can all be reassigned to West Virginia. No one needs Cumberland. No one in Maryland needs the Appalachians. We who prefer the coastal region can always go to visit another state should any interest in visiting mountains arise.

Silly, am I? Ignorant? Perhaps. But I am irked that I have to travel two hours out of my way on my busiest of school days to go to traffic court, all because cops in western Maryland have nothing better to do than lurk around corners and hand out ridiculous speeding tickets for going under ten miles over. How silly. How quaint.

Or maybe, I will just never ever go to western Maryland again. Why should I? I am a Chesapeake bay girl. An ocean girl. Mountains hold little joy for me, in comparison to sand and salt water and sun. And crabs. Do they even eat those out in Allegheny county? I shake my head.

It Has Been Far Too Long

2009-06-29T15:34:00.003-04:00

...since last I blogged. Now it is almost July, and for some strange reason I have not had to go to work in over five days. However, this vacation must soon end, for today is my dear Latte's last day and I shall be taking up her work hours. And then I will be working all the time. But this is okay by me, since I am poverty-stricken and incapable of rubbing two pennies together.

But this is not my musing for today. My musing for today is the art of letter writing. For this morning (a strangely not humid, temperate day for a Baltimore perching on the edge of July) I received a letter from one of my closest school friends. And might I say how absolutely beautiful her letters are. Where do people get the skill to write so gracefully? Thoughts flowed perfectly together. There were no non-sequitors polluting her thoughts like my letters are so wont to do. Her letters are absolutely lyrical. The stuff of well-written fiction. Only they are real. And I am so jealous. Because my thoughts are scatterbrained and slightly ludicrous, reminiscent of a slightly ADD seven year old. I skip merrily through thoughts, jotting down whatever comes to mind with no heed for structure or relevance. I often write my letters in the wee hours of the morning, when I am too tired to think straight but am unable to sleep.

And then I receive masterpieces, worthy of placement in a Jane Austen novel in return and I feel horribly inadequate. So this is one of my many goals for the summer. I will learn how to write a good letter. No more of my jumbled childish thoughts that reek of misplaced humor and sarcasm. I aspire to be as good as my friend.

And eventually, I may succeed. One can only hope.

Ta, Bagels.

TIME FOR SUMMER. AND CHANGE.

2009-05-17T00:07:00.002-04:00

So I've become aware that my posts are becoming increasingly depressing, and at the risk of sounding like I'm on the road to suicide, I'd like to post about the good things in my life. Because, believe it or not, there are some. And I'm hoping that in writing about them, I will become more inspired in life to actually, you know, DO things.

1. I live in a terrific neighborhood, and I have, materialistically, everything I could ask for. Almost anything I need is within a ten minute drive, and I can even walk places even though I'm often far too lazy. I have 2 computers: a desktop for gaming and hanging out and a laptop for when I need to get things done. I have a flat screen TV and a double size bed in my room, and more clothes than can fit in my custom fit drawers that my grandfather built. I have my own car, for the moment, that I don't have to pay for. Except for insurance which I often forget to pay for anyway.

2. My parents, for better or for worse, are really quite good. I really don't know how to word that, so you'll have to forgive me. They let me live here even though I pretty much do nothing; I sit in my room and play wow/watch tv, and leave only for the occasional class (that I do not take enough of) and work. They accept this and despite constant hints for me to go outside/make friends, they really do accept who I am, mostly (in my opinion), because of my failure at life brother. They're just glad that I'm not out being a party machine and wasting my life in a bottle or a joint. He's so gross. (He will not be appearing on this list, just so we're clear :P)

3. I have 2 really great friends. Bagels and Kathleen are truly irreplaceable; I can trust both of them with anything. I love them oodles, and they're great to talk to at any time and I at least know that Bagels will not be judgemental. They've been there for me through a lot, and they'll never know how much I appreciate it, because I know that I can be a piece of work sometimes.

4. I have a great boyfriend. I mean come on, total package. He's a total cutie and he's a wonderful friend to me. We have a lot of chemistry and he understands a lot about me that I never thought a guy could understand. We have such a relaxed relationship (despite what you saw in my previous post lol), and it's really great to not have stress in that part of my life.

5. If I apply myself in school, I actually do pretty well. I enjoy my English and History classes, and deal with the other ones. A challenge every now and again is definitely welcome, i just need to learn to pay attention and make an effort.

Great! I actually feel a lot better. Self esteem is a tricky issue, and I feel like if a lot of girls took a step out of their lives for a second and just look at all the positive things they'll realize how good they actually have it. Moving on!

With my failure of a freshman year in the past and a brand new summer on the horizon, I feel it's necessary to make a few changes in the way that I live my life. Sure, things are ok, but they could definitely be better.

First off! Dietary restrictions. I've put on a few pounds in my belly and I need to get it off before I have to wear a bikini: Beach on July 11!

So, I'm going to make an attempt to exercise at least once a day. I'm not listing an exact form of exercise. I'm going to check out some yoga videos and maybe go for a walk. If I say that I'm going to go running every day then I know that I won't because I've never liked running, ever. So I'm leaving that open ended ^_^.

FOODS I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT EAT. NO MATTER WHAT. I HOPE.

1. Bagels. (I'm sorry, but I eat far too many :( I've tried to quit them before, but I really need to buckle down this time. I mean business!)

2. Pizza. (Of any kind. It's not that a little pizza now and then is okay, but I generally go too far when pizza is involved. 5-6 pieces is totally the norm for me, and that has to change.)

3. Macaroni and cheese. (I've eaten it at least once a week since the spring semester has started. Ugh.)

4. Pastries/Pies. (This includes any and all forms of danishes, cupcakes, muffins, cake, cookies, etc. Note I didn't mention ice-cream. Yum.)

THINGS THAT I NEED TO START EATING!

1. More fruit and veggies! Well, at least some yummy fruit. Veggies are meh.

2. Drink at least a glass of milk a day. Apparently, studies have shown that despite the fact that many women have cut dairy out of their diets, a glass of milk or serving of dairy can actually help weight loss around the midsection. Hey, it's worth a try, right?

3. Drink more water, too. No more sugary juices and teas. Just coffee and water, and only regular coffee, no more expensive Venti Mochas from Starbucks.

4. Good carbs. Instead of filling myself with fattening noodles and bread, choose carbs wisely. Eat wheat over white bread, and maybe only have half a sandwich with some fruit instead of a full sandwich with goldfish.

I'm going out to buy a scale tomorrow. I'm going to start keeping a food journal (she threatens), and weigh myself every Sunday to see if I'm getting any results.

I'm really optimistic about this, and excited.

Goals, ahoy!

--Latte

ugh

2009-05-14T01:13:00.002-04:00

so i'll admit to having slightly obsessive compulsive behavior. id like that thank my wonderfully worrying mother for that most attractive trait.

as a preface this is going to be an extremely disoriented post mostly because i'm fucking angry at myself.

i have a really hard time with relationships. yes i realize i talk about this a lot but i don't have much else of a life to talk about. i have this weird attention needing thing where if the person i'm dating doesn't update me on what they're doing or why they're not responding to things i'm doing then i fucking freak out and lose all sanity.

i'm pretty sly at the beginning of a relationship. i ignore the guy at all the right times and carefully manage my words and how much i reveal. but when i finally feel comfortable they realize what a fucking psychotic freak i am. i go crazy and i fucked up tonight.

so sometimes steve has these emo-fits and ignores me for a little bit. i have a really hard time with this. if he told me that he needed some time alone, that would be fine, i could deal with that. but usually he just cuts me off, and i ALWAYS, and i fucking mean ALWAYS, think that this means i've done something wrong.

always.

so naturally, my first fucking brilliant response is to flip my lid on the crazy jar and spaz out.

after a really bad night of raiding in wow (yes i am a nerd, we should have established this by now), i try to talk to him and he doesn't respond. he then proceeds to immediate log off without a word.

i text him saying something like "look i realize you're upset but the least you could do is say something to me. i hope you have a good night i guess.".

he doesn't respond. for like 4 minutes. and because i'm psycho:

'i hope you know it hurts when you ignore me :('

he responds with: 'what are you talking about. i was in the fucking bathroom.'

and go. i'm FUCKING.

CRAZY.

FUCKING.

CRAZY.

i texted him back apologizing and promising to be less psychotic. he doesn't respond.

i apologize again because i can't ever seem to just let things fucking go.

he texts me: 'i guess i'm just gonna go to bed. night.'

being crazy i call him, no answer. i text him: 'please. i'm so sorry.'

nope, nada. i call again and leave a sobstory message because i'm fucking emo and wait. nothing. so i send him a final text saying 'i fucked up and i couldn't be more sorry. i love you. i hope to talk to you tomorrow'

WHICH IS WHAT I SHOULD HAVE FUCKING SAID FROM THE VERY FUCKING START AND JUST FUCKING LEFT IT AT THAT.

but of course i'm insane. and can't ever leave things as they should.

i've deleted all my messages because i can't bear to look at them because i am having a hard time right now if it wasn't blatantly obvious.

i am really upset right now, and i really just needed to hardcore rant. because i'm a fucking idiot. bagels i need you home. i was thinking about calling kathleen but i dunno if i could bear to listen to her talk about herself for an hour.. but maybe that would get my mind off of it.

i also fucking missed my english final because i am stupid and skipped classes. and i also couldn't sign up for summer classes because of my advisor and haven't told my mother. i realize that this whole thing with steve will blow over but because i have in me the blood of a psycho worrier, i continue to worry about whether he will break up with me over this. i've never actually had a huge fight with anyone i've been with so i don't know how to react. this isn't a huge fight. i realize that. i'm blowing this way out of proportion because i'm a fucking pro at it.

it's just that i don't know how to deal with this. i've never really actually felt this way about anyone and i'm fucking terrified i'm going to fuck this up. there's so much pressure on girls now adays to get married and i know that i shouldn't be worried about it but what if he's the person i'm supposed to be with but i'm just too god damned psychotic to be in a relationship and i'm driving him away?

i'm overreacting, i'm aware of this. i just fucking hate long distance. but i can't imagine being without him. angsty teen, etc.

just fucking shoot me now.

LATTE, EMO-OUT.

What Color Defines You?

2009-04-24T15:14:00.003-04:00

I did a quizilla quiz today with the titular title. This is what I got:

A deep blue

The color that describes your personality most is a deep, dark but pretty blue, like the ocean. You tend to sometimes feel disheartened or misunderstood, but you're also calm and quite fun to be around! Just like the crashing waves, you too can have random mood swings, and sometimes have a bit of an angry side to you. Full of life and completely energized, you most likely rock the world of others, and it's pretty hard NOT to notice you!

this is by far the most accurate quiz on that ridiculous site i have taken. Except the whole completely energized bit...

Also...I figured out this:

Quizzes Girls Games

A Double Dose of Birthday Celebration

2009-04-16T22:54:00.003-04:00

So my birthday was on Tuesday, and my friend's birthday was today. So we had a party wednesday, since that is a traditional party night here at school and because it was appropriately in between. It was quite lovely, in that there were many people and a delicious chocolate covered rice krispy treat for my birthday gift.

There were also a lot of obnoxious drunkards, myself not included. I have taken a sort of unspoken vow of sobriety. Drinking no longer interests me. I look at a glass of liquor and i feel indifferent, rather than the unsurpassed glee i used to feel. I am not the only one. Several of my friends have grown apathetic towards alcohol, and i say its about damn time we all sobered up.

Several of my friends, however, have not. I spent most evening dodging my former hookup, who was running about all over the place, yelling at people in a faux irish accent (he is NOT IRISH. at all.) and singing stupid pink floyd songs whilst playing an empty champagne bottle, and trying to hug or high five me every five minutes. It was ridiculous. Also another highly drunken guest was trying to authoritatively guess when i would go off and hook up with my former hookup again while making obscene hand gestures.

I was having none of it. I avoided both of them like the plague.

Aside from this minor hiccup, (and having a very drunk david duchovny slut babble at me in her Irish accent -- which is actually real -- about how she'd like to be friends but she doesn't think we will be because i don't like her and she doesn't like me) I had an excellent time. this one boy (renowned for his absolute coolness in manner of forties mobster) sang my friend and me irish songs, which is basically the COOLEST thing ever, simply because it is alex. Also I had chocolate, and every one seemed really enthusiastic about celebrating, which is unusual. I'm not used to people actually caring enough or remembering to do anything about it. My 18th and 17th birthdays sucked. A lot. So i was pleasantly surprised at how well this one turned out. i can only imagine what 21 will be like.

It will be hardcore and intense, and i hope there is no death.

Note, Latte, this is not me trying to tell you anything, i promise. this is just mere fact. i love you lots and lots and i hope you have fun this weekend. oodles of noodles of love.

bagels.

Ok, so I'm a slacker.

2009-04-13T14:13:00.002-04:00

However, i have generally good reason.

today's rant will detail incompetence. in teachers, for instance. more specifically, my computer science teacher. ONWARD.

ok, so i realize that this is a general education class and is therefore required for graduation, etc. but i mean come on, this woman calls out more than a first grader plays sick. i'm in one of her lectures right now; she's forgotten the source justifications that she has supposedly graded AGAIN for the second time. then she mentions that she considered calling her mother and asking her to bring in the papers, to which most of the class snickered.

granted, when she actually shows up, she's a decent teacher. if i didn't have my laptop with me, which i've decided is the ultimate tool of procrastination/distraction, i would most likely be taking notes/slightly paying attention.

the only thing that seriously bothers me is that she continues to maintain strict due dates for assignments she fails to explain due to her frequent absences.

sigh in other news, stephen is coming to visit this weekend, which i am awfully excited about. however due to his extreme skill in procrastination he has failed to look at plane ticket prices until today. which brings up another issue.

he's a very good procrastinater, and i'm aware of it. i also excel in this opposite skill. but how can i encourage him to do things on time if i don't do things on time myself? two weeks ago i told him to start looking at plane tickets, prices, times, etc, but he told me he'd get to it. now, knowing him, i knew that he wouldn't get to it until about now. but what can i do? i could nag him about it, but right now there are so many things to nag him about right now. he is 'looking for' a job, because he left his job at Best Buy, and his school application is due on May 1 and he hasn't started yet. thing is, i filled out my application, but i haven't sent mine in either!

on a completely different, yet slightly similar note i have told my mother that i signed up/registered for summer classes but i haven't yet. the stupid fucking idiot advisor decided to block everyone's account until we all talk to her about our stupid schedules. this includes summer AND fall schedules. how am i supposed to tell her that i don't want to go to this dumb school for another godforsaken year? i can't even imagine being in this place this time next year. it makes me sick to my stomach.

so just further testament to how well i procrastinate.

however i should really pay attention now. i'm so sleepy :(

I Am Most Pissed Off

2009-04-12T00:34:00.002-04:00

So as anyone who knows me will know, I have a slight, mostly harmless obsession with The X Files and David Duchovny. (Bear with me, Latte.) Anyway, the point is my friend and I have half-jokingly been trying to get him to come lecture at our college, on what we are unsure, but that is not the material point. The material point is, we want him here so he can lecture and we can sleep with him. That being said, we accept that this is purely impossible, namely because we have no contact information and why he would come to Maryland I don't know.

Anyway. So my friend has this other friend, who I don't like AT ALL. She is condescending, and rude, and thinks she is all hipster. None of our other friends like her, but this does not stop my X Files friend, which is fine, you know? to each her own. But this girl comes in and looks at the X Files screen, and says "you know I'm hanging out with David Duchovny this summer. I know someone who works on Californication."
We exclaim our surprise and enormous envy appropriately, and explain the aforementioned plan to her. She then says, "yeah, I'll probably sleep with him this summer. He's a sex addict."
To which we reply that that is unacceptable and uncool to gloat about so shamelessly to us, and she says: "But I'll probably just get him to fuck me in a bathroom so it'll be no big deal if that makes it better."

It does not. Of course, I accept the impossibility of meeting David Duchovny, let alone sleeping with him. I accept this completely, and keep my real hopes up for more accessible people. (Note earlier angst.) Regardless, I am SO envious! I may actually be green. Utter sexiness aside, I love his work in both X Files and Californication. He's one of my favorite actors, and for this slut to have the opportunity to spend the summer chilling WITH DAVID DUCHOVNY is totally unfair.

I really don't like her, and this has but cemented my dislike. I wouldn't mind so much except that she is so smug and conceited about everything that i can only begrudge her her good fortune.

The Weirdest Dream Ever

2009-04-10T16:05:00.005-04:00

So since Latte has clearly taken a hiatus from writing blogs, even though i hopefully check each day, I shall just merrily continue on detailing my strange life. Last night I had the WEIRDEST dream ever. It went as follows:

So i am sitting in this interrogation room, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I look like an old balding man. There are two policemen in the room, asking me if I know how I died. I don't know, I say in frustration, because they have clearly been asking me this for some time. They keep asking, until eventually I have this flashback memory of me writing a suicide note and beheading myself because I hated how my boyfriend was cheating on me. I tell the policemen this, who smile and say that they were waiting for me to remember that. Then they push me out of the door and into this very gloomy landscape. I look down and realize I have become myself again, and start walking. The sky is very dark - yellowish greenish black - and there are jagged trees everywhere and a little girl in a white dress is standing outside this old dilapidated house. I walk past her and she tells me to go inside and hurry, because the quicker i achieve my goal the quicker she can go inside. So i knock on the door and a woman who looks like Maggie Smith opens it and beckons me inside. She tells me I am a wandering soul and I have to find my soul card, otherwise I won't get to heaven. What's a soul card? I ask, and she tells me i'll know when I find it, but that it is where my soul is kept (kind of like in a dirty job, by christopher moore, only a bit different). So i go back to my old house, and decide to write my sister a letter, inside this handmade book my best friend gave me for my 16th birthday which explains ten reasons to love me (it was the best present EVER).

Of course, the minute I begin writing a letter to my sister, the book disappears and I grow a magnificent pair of angel wings, which take me up into the sky and guide me to heaven. I open the door to heaven, and find my mother, sister, brother, and aunt in a room that looks just like the gift shop of the historical society i used to work at. And they all smile and tell me they're glad i've made it. but why are you here? I ask them, confused. They tell me they died right after me, but they found their soul cards faster. Where's Dad? I ask mom. She looks very sad and tells me he was the only one to live, and she shows me what he's doing. He's sitting in a chair with a cigar, listening to a victrola record of sad music and looking very glum. She says he can come join us all in heaven if i can help him find his soul card. but only i can do this, because i was the last one to arrive and thus the closest to earth. Ok, I say. Where is it? What do I have to do? She tells me to write down the lyrics to their favorite song, and dictates the first few lines. A cashier in the room hands me a piece of blank receipt paper and I write down the lyrics to a song i can't remember. And then the cashier hands me an empty ring box and my mother tells me to put the lyrics in the top. Then she takes off her engagement ring and puts it in the box, her eyes welling with tears. Its in here, she says. Your father' s soul is in my engagement ring.

Are you sure this will work? I ask. The lyrics are incomplete.
That's ok, my aunt says. Your uncle's was in my old baseball mitt and they didn't mind that i only had the first few lyrics to our song. It'll be fine.
I nod and take the ring box, and hug my mother and my sister, who smiles and returns to intently drawing a welcome to heaven picture for my father. but before I can go down to put the box near my father, my alarm goes off and I wake up.

And that was my dream. It was strange as fuck.

Hurrah! I Have Finished! Thank You, Calliope.

2009-04-06T19:00:00.005-04:00

My essay is done! My essay is done! It is complete and utter crap in my humble opinion but at least i have finished. i don't have to worry anymore about staying up late and panicking over the utter failure that is my current work ethic.

Until I get kicked out of school, that is. I still worry about this from time to time, especially with the end of the year coming up and me preparing to turn in a mildly mediocre essay.

In other news, I have a companion to help me move Latte to Indiana. It will be an excellent road trip.

Hurrah! Road trip! Out vaguely west! This is so exciting.
But I will miss you, Latte. A lot. Which means that over the summer, I am seizing you entirely for myself, and not letting anyone else do anything else with you, because I will be too busy commandeering your time. I warn you in advance.

Bagels

Hahaha Latte, Look At This!!

2009-04-05T19:12:00.005-04:00

From F My Life:

Today, my girlfriend dumped me proclaiming she wanted someone more like her "Edward". I asked her who Edward was. She held up a copy her "Twilight" book. She was talking about a fictional vampire. FML

i mean clearly this is terrible, but also hilarious. to the poor creature who was dumped, my greatest sympathies.

Freshman Essays, The Zombie Apocalypse, and Stupid Librarian Films

2009-04-05T13:46:00.006-04:00

This is undeniable truth. So here I am, sitting in my dorm room, sans glasses because i accidentally broke the other earpiece off while standing up from listening to the boys discuss what they would do if there was a zombie apocalypse.

My very drunk Alaskan friend decided he would promptly go back to Alaska and start living off the land, to which my very drunk Californian friend said "Fuck that, you'd die, and you know why? It's fucking cold. It's fucking empty. There's nothing to fucking eat in Alaska, because the white man would come and kill all your mooses and shit, and then we'd eat all you natives. And I would be sitting there, picking bits of your leg out of my teeth with a splinter of your bone and shit, and thinking how delicious you taste."

To which the Alaskan replied that he could go fuck himself in the Rockies with the Donner Party, a bunch of stupid white people who don't know how to live off the land and ate themselves.

I love my friends. Anyway, that is not the point of this entry. The point of this entry is this: I am in a mild state of panic as concerns my freshman essay, which is on Divine and Natural law in the Oresteia, primarily Agamemnon, and my Greek tutor just told me that my essay was quite promising but also that i needed to incorporate the furies, which is a problem. i had been trying to avoid the furies, because they are so intricate and complex, but it seems i have no choice. so now i have to completely reorganize my essay to include these damned creatures, which is irksome and i may start slightly hyperventilating soon.

also, i watched the stupidest, but most excellently ridiculous film ever last night: The Librarian 3. It's like the quest for the judas chalice or something and is totally a rip off of Indiana Jones and James Bond and features a very dweeby, photographic memory-blessed yet attractive librarian named Flynn who has to go find the Judas Chalice (sort of the antithesis to the Holy Grail) which the Russians want to use since it will help to ressurect Dracula. And he meets a very sexy vampire named Simone who has hair and clothes i envy (see picture), and together they defeat the forces of evil owing to her vampirism and his...librarian skills? Anyway my favorite part is when they are constructing a sort of improvised cannon and when it fires and slams open the door he shouts "Yaaaaaaaaaaay Newton!!" very enthusiastically and this made me giggle. A lot. It is the stupidest movie ever, but i appreciate it oh so much.

bagels

Oh Shenanigans!

2009-03-29T16:28:00.006-04:00

shenanigans!!!!!! Earlier on in our blogging career latte and i decided that we only have interesting adventures every once in a blue moon, but i had one last night.

in following with the worst realization ever, i had decided i was completely finished with boys; total celibacy is the only way for me to exist without drama. anyway, last night too was a drunk night, for i am of course a burgeoning alcoholic. have you ever had jungle juice? it's fruit punch filled with everclear, which i recently learned is illegal in many states (but not maryland), because it is either 75.5% alcohol, or 90% alcohol and thus is incredibly dangerous to consume, particularly because it doesn't really taste like anything so you can drink a lot, which i did. In addition to rum and wine. (this must end. it will end.)

anyway to make a long story short, i hooked up with (i don't like that phrase. it makes me feel like a prostitute.) the boy i swore i would not. This should upset me more, since it ran totally contrary to my scheme, only afterwards i officially lost part of my glasses which are now broken and another friend virtually whored me out in order that he might conduct an amusing social experiment on this visiting boy who called himself "the paragon of acting talent." so i have more important things to worry about than hooking up (ugh) with someone i shouldn't have. this boy is the most self-centered person ever, and so i felt no guilt in watching other people make him squirm.

it was a rather amusing exploit, and my virtue and my dignity remained almost completely intact, until my friend had a "lets pull down our pants to see who's bigger" contest and i was left awkwardly staring at the ceiling until they had finished. I don't know why i blithely go along with his social experiments. i should really grow a sense of independence. alas, too bad for me. i am simply a follower.

bagels

The Worst Realization Ever

2009-03-26T23:17:00.005-04:00

The worst realization in the world to have, particularly when you are riding the red wave and therefore easily subject to emotional floods, is that you do in fact sort of like the boy you drunkenly slept with simply because he is a beautiful, beautiful specimen of mankind, even though he is kind of a jackass. But it doesn't matter, because you find him endearing and amusing, and you can't deny that you like him because you feel incredibly territorial when any other girl goes near him except your closest friends, and you think that hey, he might have been your biggest mistake. But he is your mistake. Yours alone. And you don't want anyone else to be able to claim that.

Fuck my life.

Bagels

UPDATE: as of june, this feeling has completely gone out the window. any fondness for said person has completely evaporated. it took a while, but in the end he was just not worth it.

A Bird Shat On My Head This Morning

2009-03-26T12:15:00.005-04:00

It did. This morning was incredibly typical of the chaotic uselessness that is my life. You see, last night my gay friend and some of my other friends and i all chipped in for four six packs of various fruity mikes drinks, because they are tasty and delicious. Having said that, it is not a good idea for me to drink an entire six pack by myself in about forty minutes, because then i pass out on my bed for ten hours and wake up in the following state:

Hungover, with no idea where my phone has gone.

Usually, i have a vague idea of the room my phone has wandered off to after a night of drinking. Usually, its in my friend grace's room, underneath a pile of her laundry. One time it was lodged behind a bed that was not mine. And one time it was in my friend hannah's shoe.

But not today. Today, i meandered about campus, checking with security, the coffee shop, in addition to all the usual places. I decided sadly that i must have mistook it for a bottle last night and thrown it out. As I shuffled back along to my dorm, passing underneath a massive oak or maple tree, i can't really tell right now, i felt a large ping! on my head, and i realized that a bird had shat berry remnants onto my head.

Perfect, think i to myself as i run upstairs, shielding my head with my coat. As I wash the bird shit out of my hair, I begin to tear up. Partly because i am mid-menses and lack emotional stability, partly because i lost my phone and a bird has just shat on my head, partly because i have homework to do and i am not doing so well, and partly because i am growing tired of waking up hungover. It is not pleasant. I stayed in fetal position for about an hour this morning, positive that if i made any attempt to get up i would instantly collapse in a gelatinous state and die a gruesome death.

Yet i continue to drink myself into a stupor at least twice a week. Why do i do this? Boredom. a need to feel i am participating in the social environment. To build a little tolerance so that I DON'T GET TRASHED AFTER ONLY SIX LEMONADES. (That is just so lame, its not even funny.) Usually i stay out of shenanigans. Usually i just run around laughing and hugging people for a few hours before going to bed. Only a couple times has drinking ever really blown up in my face. We shan't go into those details.

I should probably stop before i kill myself or do something spectacularly stupid. Mayhap i'll get around to reevaluating my life, but i have greek homework to do first.

Peace out.

bagels

btw, i found my phone. it was underneath a sock underneath my dresser. How it got there i have no idea.

Big News

2009-03-24T12:24:00.003-04:00

so i just spent a wonderful week in indiana and have some intriguing news. i'm also slightly distracted, so i'm just going to lay it out right here.

this boy that i <3 has two best friends: Adam and Brett.

Brett's parents have two houses, one that they live in and another that they lease. the current resident's lease is up in April, so Brett's parents are leasing the house to Brett, Adam, and Steve for only $900 a month. when they're living together, they're all going to be going to school and working.

when i visited they all seemed to like me a lot, and one of the last nights i was there, they suggested that if i was interested in moving to Indi to be closer to Steve and go to school there, that i could live in the house with them. and even if i didn't have enough money to pay rent right away or couldn't find a job right away, they would support me until i got used to the area.

this is so tempting i can barely stand it.

here's why: in Maryland i have no friends. i sit alone almost all day until i have class, have no one to talk to there, come home and sit alone again. for hours. by myself. i'm sick of my job at the library because i have no friends there anymore. i hate that i'm so alone, but i'm too shy and insecure to actually go out and try to make friends because i'm really pretty naive. i hate being drunk and i get sick from smoking anything, so that strikes any chance of my making friends in a fucking college full of drunk stoners.

in my house i get nothing done. i sit and watch tv all day and neglect homework/papers/school related work. if i need to get something done i have to leave.

my mom just came in my room and yelled at me for being lazy. shocking. that's another thing:

she never lets me do anything on my own. i have done nothing for college. when i try to do laundry she tells me it's wrong, and rather than explaining how it's wrong, she just fixes it and does everything herself.

how am i supposed to evolve as a successful human being if she's sitting there doing everything for me and not allowing me any room for personal experience. she bugs me to go out, and when i do she's upset that i won't call her every 3 seconds.

when i was in Indi she was texting me about a friend's pregnancy, and when i asked what the baby's sex was she started freaking out because she 'thought that i already knew', so OBVIOUSLY her first reaction is that i have been kidnapped and some stranger is faking being me. so she calls. i screen the call. she calls again. three times. i screen them again. i text her telling her i'm with people and can't talk. she replies that this worries her and she's afraid i'm in trouble. i call her and tell her that i'm perfectly fine. she is panicking, saying that this answer worries her. i tell her she's being ridiculous and hang up.

how the hell am i supposed to deal with that. seriously.

if i move out and start over, i can change. if i'm in a house with three other people in school, i'm more likely to get work done.

i can get away from my mother. that's enough.

my plan is to move out there for fall semester, after summer. i wouldn't start school right away, though. i'd get a job and work for a few months, try to get used to the area and meet some new people. i'd start school as a transfer in the spring semester and just start over. towson is killing me. i cry almost every night because of how horrible everything is. i just have to get away.

sorry for being emo,

latte.

Everything I Wish I Could Do, Preferably Not on This Coast.

2009-03-19T22:37:00.002-04:00

Ok. So I was at work this afternoon, on desk while various middle aged women came in, wielding wet umbrellas like swords and breathlessly demanding to know why they had 60 cent fines on their cards. After spending an entire hour reassuring at least eight different women that 60 cents was the most they would have to pay on their overdue romance novel, I retreated to the staff room, where i heated up my bowl of annie's easy mac (much tastier than kraft, IMO.) and began reading Me and Mr. Darcy, a novel only about two years old or so in which a New York bookstore manager named Emily goes to England on a Jane Austen tour, only to meet the real Mr. Darcy and have a very Pride and Prejudice like adventure.

I thought about it all afternoon, as I shelved and sorted books onto carts, as I answered phones from frantic patrons swearing they'd returned that copy of the abomination that is Twilight, and I realized that Emily Albright is me, only from New York, not Baltimore, and 29, not 19. I realized, as I drove home in the typically Baltimore humid rain, that I crave adventure in my life. I am sitting in Maryland, wishing I had the courage to go to England or at least to the opposite coast! I didn't even leave the state for school! And while this has proved most convenient in many ways, and while I would not change a single thing about my college, I want to get out. I've never left the East Coast; I have traversed it extensively: Baltimore, DC, Richmond, Philly, New York, Boston, Orlando, to name a few. I've been all over the east coast, cities aside, and i love it. with every fiber of my being i love the east coast. but i am also bored to tears with it. they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and i feel a good dose of the not-east-coast would do wonders for my soul, which lately is more confused than an adolescent boy.

i must get out. this spring i am going with my friends (unfortunately, my dear latte is not among them, which grieves me as she is one of the only truly sane people i know) up to foxboro, MA. There we shall spend three days cavorting about, watching lacrosse. i am excited, but it is still the east coast. Am I doomed to never leave? Am I?

I should hope not. One day, I will go out west. My list of cities and towns and regions will expand. And one day, i will go to Europe. I shall see all those places i read about in my books but never get to visit because i am too poor and too unmotivated. I will have a proper adventure, dammit.

My plan for the future is thus: I will graduate college, hopefully not failing out of the one i currently attend because i am far too silent in class (believe me, this is extremely important in measuring success and determining whether or not you are allowed to return. i worry. a lot.), then i shall take a year or two off and work, then travel extensively throughout the US and Europe. The nice thing about school is i have friends from Juneau to Miami and from Boston to Los Angeles, so i will always have someone to pester when i'm traveling. After which, i will attend graduate school and become a top archivist/librarian, working at such prestigious locations such as the library of congress and the Smithsonian, and then some equally venerable library/museum in London will demand i be employed for them. Then I'll move to England for a while, all the time keeping my options open in case i can work in italy or france, or australia. (although what i'd do in australia im not certain.)

And my life will rock.
Well, I think it will rock.
Excuse my rant, Latte.

Ta,
Bagels.

Cloves and Clytaemestra

2009-03-17T14:33:00.004-04:00

Well, bagels here again. This morning I woke up after a very sound night's sleep and decided that since I was so well-rested I would actually achieve things today. For example, rather than stare absent-mindedly at the television for five hours, watching CSI marathons on Spike as I am usually prone to do, I thought to myself "Bagels, it is time you start your freshman essay. Long overdue. All of your school comrades are well into theirs, and you, you have been wasting time as usual watching terribly cliched but fascinating crime shows. So today you will eat a proper breakfast (french toast) and take a shower, and drive purposefully to Borders, where you will spend at least an hour on your paper."

But first, I had to engage in a genuinely stupid activity, namely the experimental smoking of a clove cigarette. They smell like Christmas spices, which lures one into thinking that they will taste just like Christmas spices. They don't really. They taste like cigarettes. With a vaguely spicy aftertone that perhaps the experienced smoker might pick up upon, but not I. So as I am sitting on my back porch in my pajamas, puffing away on this disappointing cancer stick, I think that
A: I am not a smoker, so I feel like an imposter.
B: Clove cigarettes are still bad for you even if they smell delicious.
C: What would my mother say? (She wouldn't say a word. She'd just slap me and then cry.)
D: I don't look nearly as suave as my friends from school. I look like a dweeb.
E: They don't taste like Christmas. At all. Which is sad.

I decided that I would give the rest to my smoking friends at school. They'll be intrigued by them. And thus concluded my last foray into the nicotine world.

On to Clytaemestra. (Or Clytemnestra, depending on your translation.) So my paper is on the Oresteia, the details of which i shan't go into for fear of boring Latte and our sole other reader. I just thought I would comment that Clytaemestra is totally badass. She is insane! She sits at home in Argos, waiting for her husband Agamemnon to come back from the Trojan War, plotting her revenge on him because he killed her daughter in sacrifice. Why, you ask? The man, being a soldier and a king, was told by the gods (more specifically Artemis) that he and the Argives would not have fair winds to Troy if they did not sacrifice his daughter. So after a few brief lamentations, Agamemnon goes along with the scheme and gets his wind. Naturally, Clytaemestra gets pissed off and decides to murder him, with the help of her lover. Anyway, she gets all devious and concots this elaborate deception that basically culminates in her stabbing the shit out of her husband. Of course, she later gets killed by her son, but this is ok. Circle of life, etc.

And i did work on my paper! also there was this very annoying employee at Borders who wouldn't shut up talking to the guy behind the coffee counter. As I sipped my large strawberry italian soda and munched on my lemon bar i plotted ways to silence her. I only gave up when i realized that i didn't have any of the tools i needed in my plans, and that all my plots were illegal in the extreme. Oh well.

Anyway, perogis beckon!
Cheerio.

Bagels.

PS: Latte guess what? Last night at work I caught a certain boy lurking in the 900s section reading a book fifteen minutes before closing while he was supposed to be shelving a cart. So whilst I was merchandizing I put a handful of books I'd picked up onto his cart for him to shelve. It was a small act, but satisfying. Hope you are enjoying the midwest.

Airplanes and Other Madness

2009-03-16T10:39:00.004-04:00

so there is a certain etiquette that needs to be observed while in a busy airport.

1. look ridiculously confused and open to suggestion

2. do that sort of wander walk, as if you don't really have a good idea where you're going, or, really, where you are.

3. be exceptionally polite to all airport staff, as if you are, they will be more likely to give you advice or tell you where to go next.

other than that you're really just on your own, as you can't have your wonderful friends escort you through security. another thing to be aware of is foreign travellers. see, while you have this presense of being highly approachable, airport staff aren't the only people you're going to attract.

yesterday while sitting at the gate A9, a confused (even moreso than me) middleastern woman approaches where i'm sitting reading Christopher Moore's Fool and started asking me all kinds of questions about the flight etc. not knowing anything myself, it was truly the blind leading the blind and i eventually directed her to the kind airport people behind the desk at the gate. oy.

this was also the first flight i'd been on that allowed you to choose your own seats. unfortunately, instead of being logical and choosing a good seat by either a window or in the aisle, i chose the seat in the middle. it wasn't so bad as i wasn't sitting next to anyone who smelled, was severely overweight, etc, but it was still annoying not being able to stretch my legs out to their full length (not that that's much anyway) or be able to look directly out the window when i got bored.

i finished Fool, by the way. definitely a recommended read if you enjoy satire or Christopher Moore. then again the two are basically one in the same so it's kind of silly for me to offer them as options. hm.

the flight, all in all, was decent. it was only an hour and a halfish so it was very easy and quick, and although i finished my book about thirty minutes into it, my iPod sustained me for the rest of the flight. i have this compulsion to tap my fingers to drum beats in songs, so i think i may have bugged the lady next to me, but oh well!

now i'm sitting in the hotel room after having had a nice shower, watching frasier and preparing to go out for a bagel-y breakfast. with coffee. yes, lots of coffee.

ta!

latte

also, listening to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGRWxoJtQP0

I Want To Believe

2009-03-15T21:04:00.008-04:00

Bagels here.

My cohort is currently cavorting about the Midwest, leaving me stranded and mostly alone for the whole of next week. But fortunately, I have found a video which amuses me. It may not amuse everyone, and by everyone I mean Latte, because she does not obsessively watch the X Files like I do, but I'm posting this anyway. I got kicks out of it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYhhh2hoL64

I absolutely adore Mulder with the fiery passion of a thousand splendid suns. He is a great philosopher, you know. He searches for the truth where others would be satisfied with sitting in their cave, content with shadows and silhouettes. But he marches on up through the cave into the sunlight! He persists in his quest for Truth, no matter how many indignities he must suffer along the way, because he is a virtuous man.

Also he is incredibly nerdy and good-looking. And I wish he and Scully would get together. In terms of the tv show. I'm not particularly interested in the movies.

I'm sure Latte is thrilled to know that her blog buddy has just a mild, mild obsession with Mulder and the X Files. Alas.

Charmingly Befuddled British Men Are Sexy

2009-03-14T21:13:00.005-04:00

I am sorry. I cannot help but love Hugh Grant in all of his extremely awkward Britishness, and since Latte was right and I did nothing at all but take an excessively long shower filled with warmth and happiness and watch Notting Hill since it was the only thing on television, that is all I have to post really. Anyway, I don't much care if Hugh Grant was involved in those prostitute shenanigans in the mid nineties. He is still, as Family Guy once said, charmingly befuddled in each and every one of his movies, and he will always have a special place in my heart. Carry on, Hugh! Pip-pip! (I realize this picture is in fact not from Notting Hill, but from Love Actually. This is okay, for he is equally adorable in both.)

Also, it should be noted that driving to Southern Virginia at six in the morning is mildly unpleasant. Latte and I spent a good ten minutes this morning designing our dream vehicle, which was a California King bed with a sort of fence-type thing around it, bestrewn with pillows and blankets and a waterproof canopy, that flies. Inside this magic mattress there would be a coffee maker, a bagel maker, free wi-fi, and a caesar salad maker (I just added that last bit on a whim). Did I mention that it would fly? We would never have to leave the sanctuary of our warm beds in the morning for trips. One would simply program the bed to run on autopilot, and then snuggle back under the covers until the destination has been reached. It is brilliant and a flawlessly conceived design. Now if only someone could execute it.

Well, my own not so exciting mattress beckons. Cheerio!

Bagels

Men in Black/Twilight Hate? Yes please.

2009-03-14T19:05:00.004-04:00

hello, latte here.

bagels definitely doesn't know that i'm posting this. she's probably finishing up a nap, as today's excursion to southern VA took a lot out of us. more the waking up at 5:45 am thing than anything else i'd wager.

anyhoo, i'm watching men in black II right now. it's just started, and it's already pretty creepy. i wasn't allowed to watch the first one until i was around 12, which therefore sparked an extreme interest. when i actually ended up seeing it i was rather disappointed, but Will Smith is delicious as usually.

i digress. the meaning of posting this update is to inform the masses of this brilliant deviant artist.

http://shinga.deviantart.com/art/Head-Trip-Twilight-Sucks-85504254

i was actually being a stalker on facebook when i discovered her page. a friend of mine had shown another friend of mine a little bit ago and i about died when i saw it. i know that bagels will, too.

a fellow soldier in the army against twilight! huzzah! simply a little drawing that i found wonderfully amusing. i've taken a look at some of her other stuff as well and it's all quite good.

i'm sorry if this post seems a bit discombobulated. the beauty and wit of a Mr. Smith is all consuming atm.

toodles!

latte

Greetings!

2009-03-13T23:25:00.000-04:00

Well, it would seem as though our dear friend has convinced us to create a blog. On that note, yes, there are in fact two of us. Don't be overwhelmed just yet. Between us, we have just about the amount of adventure a normal person our age would have, so no need to feel pressured about catching up on both of our lives because they're not that interesting unless they're mushed together. And even that's iffy.

Tomorrow seems to be the exception, except we are spending it mostly together, so really it's a single adventure. Tomorrow we will be driving at a terribly early hour to fetch a dear friend in southern Virginia from school. We shall be spending many many hours on the road, journeying through over 161 miles of tedious highway down to a small town neither of us have ever been to, gather our friend and her belongings, then promptly turn around and head back home. Why? Because we are bored, and this seemed (slightly) adventurous. But we are excited, for there will be loud music. And snacks. Snacks are very important. And more importantly, there will be coffee. For coffee is the instrument of our success. Without coffee, we are doomed to die the slow, sleepy, painful death of an addict. Fortunately for us, our addiction is entirely legal and in fact embraced by the mainstream US.

However, we do have to be up ridiculously early tomorrow, so farewell.
Until next time,

bagelsandlatte