It’s too early in the year to be offended this much. Tomorrow I’m gonna wake up, gonna reflect, gonna move along. Ain’t nothing to see her. No broken hearts (or even would be broken hearts), cause there was never any real potential to work off of anyways. But so it goes. Maybe tomorrow I’ll throw in a little music to make it a little better, but for now, I’m going to bed. I’m gonna try and forget I heard anything that was said to me, gonna try and pretend that nothing beyond me and IT exists, it’s just us—the future and the present of education, ain’t got nothing to deal with other people. Nothing at all. The end, goodnight.
Filed under: Life Goals, Música, Stupid Boys, The New Deal, Trips | Tags: Compulsive Gamblers, Elliott Smith, Elvis, moving again, Nolan Strong, PRODIGAL DRUNK SUMMER
I’m packing everything up again. This time I’m moving to Florida. I don’t want to go, but I guess that means I’m doing something bigger than myself (ha). Actually, I just don’t think it would be in line with my eventual fate as a boring suburban mom if I didn’t do this. So while part of me (that really big part called the “brain” and “spirit”) wants to stay and be officially plan free for the first time ever in my life, the small section (called “sensibility” and “pragmatism”) is making me go. After all, I have no job here (after Oaks ends), no house (after my sublet ends), etc. In Miami, I have a job and a house. But I have friends and romantic prospects here. And bars I love and places I will miss. In Miami, I will be drinking in Applebee’s, by myself. I guess it had to happen though. The Prodigal Drunken Summer has to come to an end, otherwise it’s just alcoholism. Boom.
Some songs that fit the way I feel right now:
[download "Say Yes" by, yes, Elliott Smith, I guess you should go ahead and kill my sad sack self now....] oooh bonus!! (download “Alameda” by him, too)
[download the Compulsive Gamblers' cover of Nolan Strong & The Diablos' "Your Happiness"]
Ta Da! Now I’ve gotta go to the carnival.
I hate the world right now. Especially the male half of it. That is all. That and screw love/crushes. They aren’t worth the hassle. I’m going back to being numb now.
[download Liz Phair's "Fuck & Run", i.e. the anthem of my post-youth youngin days.]
Filed under: Life Goals, Stupid Boys | Tags: Old 97's, PRODIGAL DRUNK SUMMER, Replacements
Between the whiskey and the beer, between the carnival and the sleep, I’ve somehow zipped through most of my summer already. My last day at the carnival is August 18. I’m moving to Miami on the 20th. Where it all went, I really don’t know. I’ve kept up the bad boy decision making, revealing to not only the Movie Man, but myself just how great I am. I’ve stayed away from the potential good and stuck to Whiffies and the Ship. Routine trumps renovation.
And cue the end of the prodigal summer. Set to a soundtrack of The Replacements and the Old 97s, it’s been good. But I guess it’s gotta end.
(download The Replacements “Unsatisfied”)
(download The Old 97’s “Rollerskate Skinny”)
Filed under: Música, Other people, Stupid Boys, The New Deal, Writing | Tags: PRODIGAL DRUNK SUMMER
I haven’t posted because:
- I was busy dying (not because of a hangover at the carnie job, mind you)
- I have 2 full-time jobs
- I’m a lazy beezy that just doesn’t care
- SO MUCH BAKING TO DO!
On my next day off (i.e. Monday, i.e. next week, i.e. my 1 day off a week), I’m making these bagels (click!)
And, dang, if Hayes Carll isn’t the dopest of dope alt-country dudes strumming/singing right now. AND Ryan Bingham’s new CD is mad growing on me. Look/wait with breath held, for a slightly updated review of Roadhouse Sun… it’s really kinda growing on me.
I gotta go to bed since job #2, i.e. autism day camp TA starts at 8am. everyday. In addition to my carnie job everyday, but at least I got hotties at Oaks Park to look at/think about (but not wanna bone, obvtron, cause eww, they are literally like 12, or 20, but still, really, my boss? at 20??? really???? and he mad owned you on the obscure-ish foreign dbag term? really?). Oh well.
FYI, been doing mad physical writing lately.
P.S. My baking has been lopsided, (ditto for one of my two roomies). I think our oven has turned on us. It now only cooks edges, then burns edges while cooking the innards of cakes/breads/etcs. WHACK ATTACK.
I will get one of the carnies into my bed. Oh, lord help me, but I will. Be it Pete and Pete, or my DBAG 20 year old boss, or the ohmygood so self-aware 19 year old. One of ‘em, or all of ‘em. That’s the plan.
AND P.P.S. JO BROS IN A WEEK + SOME DAYS!!!!!!!!!!! OMGOMGOMGOMG!!!!!!!!
Filed under: Life Goals, Música, Stupid Boys | Tags: baking, Compulsive Gamblers, dating, Mary Weiss
I went on a first date today. It was awkward, but nice. I haven’t been on a proper first date since high school. I’m glad I went.
A little Elliott Smith Big Star cover to sum it up.
And another song I listened to a lot last night, which doesn’t really fit, but is pretty nevertheless:
Today I checked out the America’s Test Kitchen Best of 2009 cookbook. It’s a pretty good read. And I think I found a proper drop biscuit recipe that I’m excited to try out. I wish I was in a cover band. I always have. Always will.
Filed under: Life Goals, School, Stupid Boys, The New Deal | Tags: good decisions, graduated, Greg Cartwright, real life, Reed
I’m all set up in my new subletted third of a basement. It’s the first real house I’ve lived in here in Portland and I’m quickly coming to the realization that this is the city I want to live in. Forever. I really don’t want to move to Miami. I really don’t want to do City Year. But I will and maybe I’ll come back and continue my love affair with this city. But for right now, I’m enjoying being an unemployed townie. While technically I have two jobs, neither has officially began yet, so I’m living up the unemployed status while it lasts. Thus far, I’ve done Tobey related maintenance/repair things, slept with someone right after I said the official goodbye to the boy I would’ve married (even though we joked, I would’ve mentioned him had the conversation not segued), walked a lot, drank a lot, and generally milled about. I also made a good awesome buttermilk blackberry cake.
In line with graduating and finishing everything Reed related, I started a new journal. A nice journal. A physical journal with acid-free, lightly lined paper, a leatherette cover, and matching bookmark. It has one entry so far. Ironically detailing my regression into my townie loving ways. Good decisions abound. Good covers don’t abound:
I found a beer I like a lot. A real beer, a ‘fancy’-ish (i.e. not dear old PBR or $1 Olys) beer. (Henry Weinhard’s Private Reserve…. also Vanilla Creme is dope!). I guess I’m officially a hipster adult now. My only complaint is that this adds another thing to the ever-growing list of things “I atleast walk away with” from the Movie Man and all drama that is sure to ensue. Add Dennis Wilson and a push towards garage and you have a full-picture of our could-be, won’t-be, really don’t want it to be relationship. (But still Greg Cartwright seems to make the bad decisions a whole lot better–that and the junior high nature of it):
Everytime I look over to my new clothing storage unit/counter top and I see my Reed diploma (still in the little book thing since I haven’t bought a frame yet) I can’t help but feel really proud. Like I told the carnie boss today at my job interview (woo! I’m a carnie AND an autism school’s teacher’s assistant!), with each passing day, I’m realizing just how much I learned. I’m still waiting for the day when I wake up and feel smart again, though. I’m more proud of my laurels than my diploma though:
Every jackass gets a diploma, but the laurels (as douchey as I feel for saying it) are special. We all worked really hard, even if it didn’t always seem like it, to get those. And damn, I almost died getting mine. If that cyst wasn’t symbolic of my thesis, then I don’t know what the hell was going on with that!
I need to take the pictures from my family’s camera (and mine for that matter), but here’s the shot emailed to me by the photography company. I’m surprised that they managed a good shot since all I was thinking about was “don’t fall, remember to shake the Dive’s hand, don’t wipe your hand after you shake, etc.” I ain’t even glaring, rolling my eyes, yawning, or fidgeting!! Me in all my shining graduating glory:
Woohoo! Go me!
Who knew “American Girl” never charted? Not me. That’s for sure.
Can it be true that all I’ve really gotten from 4 years of this (from a year of that) is a bad case of heart ache and some new things to watch?
That’s whack.
Whack attack.
Hell, at least I ain’t the pity girl.
Filed under: Música, Stupid Boys | Tags: Mirah, Youtube Clip of the Day, La Familia, Freshman Year
Because I got nothing going on but a lot of work and guy issues, I’m taking a step back to freshman year.
Here it is.
Two versions of THE song of my freshman year experience, i.e. Mirah’s “La Familia.”
[[download "La familia" by Mirah"]]
(Original shoddy youtube video)
(Weird remix?)
[[And the answer is: no, no it would not make it any better; and no, they will not be your friend. I wish I didn't know this answer... oh well]]
I’m in an Alanis Morissette and Liz Phair mood. Not the sexy kind either. The pissy, shoulda been a lesbian since clearly girls are nicer than boys (obv a lie, but point stands) kinda mood.
But at least I’m baking and reading (even if for thesis). Keep busy. Pretend the jerks don’t exist. Only me, my book, and my sweet potatoes a’ boilin’ in the pot (or three tiny sauce pans actually… how we don’t have a big pan I don’t know.). Nothing else.
I’ll take it out on the potatoes.
That’ll solve it all.
Even if I don’t know quite what I’m solving.
