Sorry, I'm a bit of a liar.

I have no will. I think I've mentioned that before.

So yes... occasionally I make promises that I don't keep. I haven't written in a few days. I guess I have been sort of busy, which is a good thing. My life is all about the desire to be busy these days. I was face painting on Sunday, and today I was was... sort of working. I'm not getting paid. So its not like "work." But its something. Its production work. I'm touching the movie, so I'm happy.
I've also been JOGGING everyday. Me? YES ME. And it's rough, but I'm trying. I want to get healthy, and thin. That would be neat. Then maybe I could actually attract men that don't completely suck. Not saying I do all the time. But lately? Yes. The suck keeps rolling in, and I hate it. I would like to find a pleasant gentleman, who is cute and nice. My written preferences will continue to change as I get more desperate. Someday it will just be, "ME WANT MAN."
OR it will be the more likely opposite. My standards will get so specific, that I will retreat to a cave, and become a lonely spinster.
OR... some lovely man will come a long soon. Then I will just simply be distracted and not write as much here.
OOOOORRRRR. I will write all about it. And then read it in the future when we are broken up, and hate myself for having written it.

Its all about the positives kids.

What happened to good ol' entertainment?

Listen. I understand there are a lot of shitty shit movies that spring out of the pot every year. But it is the summer. This is blockbuster season. The reason they come out now, is because distribution knows that they aren't going to get Oscars. They also know that young teens are going to be out of school, and ready for enormity.
Surprise, surprise. Transformers Revenge of the Fallen isn't the best movie ever. It's also Michael Bay. So yeah... explosions, and some stereotypes. I'm sorry, but when did people start seeing Transformers for political commentary? I was very aware I was about to go watch some robots blow some shit up. That's why I referred to them as "explodebots" before the movie started. I wasn't expecting Shia Labeouf to give me an award winning performance, I wasn't expecting Megan Fox to depict chastity, and I wasn't expecting Bay to create some sort of meaningful homage to the embittered world we live in. I wanted a god damn summer blockbuster, and that's what I fucking got.

So, if I hear one more wah wah political rant about Michael Bay, I will fucking choke someone. I swear. And chances are, it will be the hipster to my left. I almost want to see it again to spite them. But I can't afford. it.

I give T-Formers an A, for being exactly what I wanted it to be. Kick Ass.

My brother is supposed to be up. He is SUPPOSED to be answering his phone, as we are taking a train uptown to see Transformers on IMAX, and I refuse to get shitty seats. There are loads of things on my mind right now, but I can't quite organize them and hash them out at the moment. Maybe later when I have more time. Right now, I would just like my brother to pick up his damn phone so I know he is coming. I paid too much money to let this go to waste. I would have to find a last minute replacement, and I really don't want to.

I am sure this is all VERY fascinating to you. I know it isn't. BUT, I will have more to say later.

I promise, I promise

I will write everyday if I can. And I didn't write yesterday. I know.

I (damnit my mom won't stop texting me! I do NOT have unlimited text!) You know, out of the brackets. Texting drives me fucking crazy. If you have like, more than two sentences to utter, call me. UUGGHHHH. She won't stop!! Its one of those mornings, I can feel it. The tiniest little kick will turn me to the dark side. It will take nothing to piss me off. On this occasion, it happens to be asking me questions about my day that I just don't care to answer. I also already said it all yesterday.

Parents, parents, parents. I have four parents. I am sure there are many kids in America who live in this same situation. And there are even more who probably have more parents who have remarried over and over again. Those poor souls probably don't even have a parent to relate to or attach to. My my.

However, as lovely as my parents are, I really start to hate it when I have to repeat the same thing over and over again. And if one doesn't hear something, because I told the other and forgot, I get that puppy like whimper of "No, you didn't tell me." I would LOVE to put my mom and dad on conference calls and just say, "Shut your mouths. This is what's going on. Please, no questions until after the meeting has adjourned. Rita MORE COFFEE!" I don't know who Rita is, but she is one of the best assistants that has ever graced this earth.

Man. I need to run or something. I can feel stress coming from no where. I hate that kind. It snowballs out of nothing.

This is a weaker post. Sorry. But hey... practice, practice, practice.
Maybe all you need is a little bit of this:

I'm not saying they look exactly alike. But maybe they could be related.

El Dia De Los Padres!

Happy fathers day America! I'm actually supposed to be writing a band review, but I am stalling. I think its mostly because I have never written an official band review. My fear is that I will have a hard time NOT sarcastically making fun of everything. I tend to make references a long the lines of "this band sounds like puking" or "I can add this to the list of things that create my hell." So, in an effort to sound professional, I will avoid said comparisons.
I am not completely attached to this post. In fact, I find it a bit of a nuisance. But I promised my self I would try to write more. I can't go on standing myself up. Maybe I'll add more later. For now, this will just have to do.

See post below... this post. It will make more sense.

Hungover and out of it: Beware of errorrrrs.

Bare with me. I am slightly tired... and spent. I was being a very classy lady last night, and chose to show this by gently puking onto the streets of Williamsburg. I am now trying to clean up the apartment a little, whilst listening to/watching "Across the Universe." The movie is pretty shit. I understand. BUT, I used to do the same thing with "Ever After" and that movie is horrible. There is something very comforting to me about watching shitty movies that are easy. Their is always something about it I like. In this case its Jim Sturgess. I don't know what I liked about "Ever After." I think it was Drew Barrymore's shitty British accent. (Inner thought: I just thought I spelled Barrymore wrong, but I realize I just pronounce it wrong. I spell it fine. But I say "Barringmore." Weird.) AAANNNNYWAY. Her accent is crap and I love it. And Angelica Huston is amazing. And LEONARDO DA VINCI is in it! The real one!
Maybe I like a few things about that movie. And "Across the Universe." One thing I KNOW I don't like is Rachel Evan Wood. She blows. And not because she gets to make out with the Sturg. She just bites one.
I was realizing as I am writing this, I'm using my film school "title quotes." I should include the date of the movie like a proper essay. "Ever After" (1998), "Across the Universe" (2007).

So yeah... I should get back to cleaning. My parents are coming, and my sisters cat spilled soil all over her room. Don't ask me how. Just know that it happened, and make up your own story. I'm trying to imagine a funny story, turning the cat into a mini walking talking cat... instead of the real way that was just a dumb cat move!) Alright.
NEXT TIME. WHEN I AM NOT SO - Mr. Hun Gover.

Also

I am missing the UK dearly today. I saw a box of Weetabix, and a tear fell. Not really, but my heart longed... even though I never ate Weetabix. I was just thinking of this.


They may have had Weetabix here too, for a long time. I just never noticed.

What comes down must go up!

Not... in the case of gravity, unless you're talking bouncy balls. BUT! in the case of me, today, its right on!
Today feels like a positive day, and I do hope that is true. I got up moderately early today (for me... its was 9am) and headed over to Bedford Ave to drop off a resume at an eatery called POPs. Its a simple take away place, but the hours I would be working are graveyard. As in, start in the evening and work till 4 am. I'm not too keen on that, but I told them I would consider it. Then I strolled down to the Metropolitan Pool, because I needed to renew my membership. And this crazy older hasidic lady told me "You have bee-yoo-tee-full nails and a bee-yoo-tee-full shirt. You look bee-yoo-tee-full today!" Though it was odd, it was lovely to hear! I moved onto UVA Wines to see if they had any shifts available. I have done this in the past, but I figured I would take another stab at it. They told me to send in a resume, and get in touch with the managers. Actually, Jesse did. He is a "he" not a "they." Regardless, it felt positive.
I grabbed a falafel sandwich before heading home. It was a great alternative to the vegan sandwich I had originally considered. I don't know why I fuckin' eat those things in the first place. They are pretty gross.
I dropped by my sister's on the way back to my castle, to say hello. When I finally returned home, I plopped down in front of the computer to begin perusing jobs. Generally when I get on CL, I initially search jobs in or around Williamsburg, because local is better. AND THERE IT WAS! My dream job. A local executive that needs a personal assistant! I submitted right away, but my jittery excitement caused me to let a grammatical error slip. I am still mentally kicking myself for that. I hope he/she won't care. Considering they added college degree as a plus, I'm not to worried. Lets just hope this comes to me, after such a seemingly positive day! Fingers crossed!

So maybe I'll call it a quarter life crisis:

Because that's what all the cool kids are saying? Right?
I seriously... well, I'm afraid I peaked at 25. I think I will never be as happy as I was for those magical four months. And NO, it has nothing to do with anyone other than myself. I was free to do, say, and be what I wanted to be. My sister brought that up to me the other day, and I hadn't really thought about it. But its true. I was being something else, because no one there who knew me could, well - judge me.
I just feel so blank. Not just creatively. As a person. You know when you hear stories about young people who die. Their family always tells the media that they had so much to live for. "She had so many plans! She didn't get a chance to live!"
Well, I have zero plans, and I think I have lived a fulfilling life, for the most part. I've learned a lot. I've been to the places I have wanted to go, and beyond. I have met fantastic people. So if I die, I hope my parents wouldn't say those things. That just wouldn't be true.
So what the fuck do I do now? I have a HUGE blank slate in front of me, and I don't care to be involved. Those in my life, who also exist on the slate, can dance around and LIVE life, as they say. I hate the idea of, "if you aren't doing something, then you aren't living" I think that's bullshit. I just prefer to live my life differently. Its my god damn life, I can do what I want with it. Someone may have given it to me, but that wasn't my fault. And I grew, and now I am some fucking person, and they expect me to mosey around like a paper doll, do this that and the other thing. "YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE!" Really? Because, I have been living day in and out for the past 25 years, and it feels a lot longer than "once."
So back to my point. I am in the midst of a quarter life crisis. I am at a cross roads, a standstill, a block. Or maybe a dead end. I was driving, I hit a dead end, and now I have to turn around and find a better route. I can word this as many ways as possible, but I will still feel useless. I will just sit in my rut and bathe in all its glory!

My horoscopes can blow me:

Gee, thanks Yahoo! SO very useful. Tell me to buy a lottery ticket or some shit. That would be nice!

Virgo (8/23-9/22)

Your bags are packed and you're ready for the adventure of a lifetime. Is it love?

Acheivement of the day:

Getting the tin foil ball in the trash after the third shot!

Thanks A LOT England

(First and foremost I would like to dedicate this to Mr. Davies. I just don’t want him to think I'm recycling his ideas.)
Within the first few days I was in England, my gums began to bleed profusely every time I brushed my teeth. Now, normally an occasional gum bleed doesn’t bother me, as I am prone to gingivitis. However, coupled with panic attacks, resilient gum bleeds freaked me out.
This past Monday, I went to the dentist for a routine cleaning. I hadn’t been in over a year, but I had missed appointments in the past, so I wasn’t too bothered. The woman who was going to be painfully scraping away at my teeth was Cindy. She is just as lovely and innocent as her name suggests. She has been my “cleaner” for most of my life. I have been seeing the same dentists, care of Dr. Wise and his harem, since my teeth needed dental attention. I honestly think at this point it would be quite traumatic to see anyone else. Cindy and I have a personal history dating back to the time she caused me such great pain with a sealant procedure, that I had to reschedule. Let's just say she knows my pain tolerance.
I sat down in the automatic reclining chair, as usual, and leaned back. Then I said, “Now, just to warn you, I was away in London for a few months. Nearly every time I brushed my teeth they would bleed. I was told it was the hard water.” Cindy looked at me with a squint of confusion, “I’ve never heard of anything like that before.” “Oh, well, my gums are a little sensitive, so… well you’ll see.” I responded, sharply.
She proceeded, adorned in a mask and dorky “dentist style ray bans,” targeting the blinding light on my teeth. She used that tiny mirror tool, along with the metal pick, and poked around. She pulled away. “Ok, so we’re going to have to change plans. Your gums are crowded by bacteria. They are incredibly inflamed. You have a history of Periodontal Disease in your family. I'm going to have to get all that bacteria out of there.”
So it began. Perhaps the most bloody and painful dental experience of my life. There she stood over my head, like a haunting silhouette, glistening pick in hand. At the time, a very frightening image. She toiled with the pick, then decided to move on to an ultra sonic water cleaner. What I thought would be more gentle, was FAR more painful. Frozen in my seat with pain, The Beatles “Something” (one of my favorites) played. I tried to ignore it in an effort to disassociate it with this experience. But I couldn’t. It was the only thing to distract me. Every so often she would tell me to rinse in spit. The amount of blood pouring from my mouth reminded me of Edward Norton’s lesson about swallowing a pint of blood in Fight Club. If I smiled, I would bare blood stained teeth. For a moment I caught my reflection in the glass covering the obnoxiously ugly painting to my left. She had given me a similar pair of glasses that she was wearing, in an effort to shield my eyes from the water. I looked like a special needs Terminator.
In the end, my mouth was sore, but my gums were better off for it. I feel fine today, but because of my wretched experience, I would like to thank England for fulfilling its most near and dear stereotype. I would also like to thank Cindy for giving me a Halloween costume idea. Murderous Dentist will be a hit!