the 100th post.

So there should be something phenominal to talk about right? Usually for a hundreth episode a television series does some interesting theme like Scrubs doing an episode based on the Wizard of Oz. Well, I'm talented but not that talented and unfortunatly nothing of worth has happened as of late other than my apartment cooling down. School life is just boring, I apologize.

I'll be back though. Something has got to pop up at one point.

The Homesickness Essay

images of home.



a few friends.











and here is LaBella and BabySister.


end scene.

Count Down to Day One.

My first class of my last year starts in 7.5 hours. I'm not excited or dredding it, instead i am staying up late and watching DVD's alone in my big empty apartment. My roommate moved out today after simply smelling cigerette smoke on my clothes and while part of me is more than pleased the other part of me finds myself repulsive. She knew me for less than 6 hours so I have truly honed my repulsive nature into something very potent. I'm sure my enemies would be very happy to hear all of this.

I've decided though, that instead of dwelling on folks that are obsessive about their dislike of me, (which was never my style anyway,) I will instead focus on pushing everyone I know and could possible like away from me in as violent a manner as possible. This is much more the way I like to play things and my success rate is quite high. Fuck-um. Fuck all of them.

Tomorrow I will sit in the cramped studio and wax bullshit with folks that will pretend to care about my semester abroad. Then I will fain interest in my new professor and then proceed to fuck off and make the work I've been meaning to. Wet, Lather, Rinse, Repeat. By the end of it I will come out with a degree and a shit load of debt. Then it's on to grad school.

Enough bitching though - I'm stoked about

Weeds

, I'm even more stoked about traveling more then being here this semester, and I'm looking forward to the couple grand coming in from the bank so that I may pay a bill or two. Things don't look up or seem bad, they go on regardless.

Back Online: The First Pittsburgh Essay.

The new apartment is spectacular and the fact that my roomate is never here is even more amazing. I have this huge place all to myself and it makes me feel like, in a way, I never left Berlin. The people on the floor are nice and I've even been able to see a few folks I am friendly with so it has been an easy transition.

The only rut was the internet - but with the help of talented neighbors I am back online doing my thing and watching the first season of Weeds on DVD simutaniously.

There is nothing really more to say about this experience, other then I have been able to exercise my house repair skills which always make me feel self-sufficent.

Time for coffee and a smoke.

Send Off.

Fuck the promised Photo Essay.
Instead, keep this image in mind:

Me with five amazing friends and a few drunks from the bar standing tall and tipsy whilst screaming Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of our lungs at Winston's Cafe in Chesapeake.

I don't think I've ever had a better 'last night outing/party' in any town in the world.

This evening was originally filled with drama and panic. The A/C in the house is still broken, (keep in mind it is very humid here folks,) and the man who came today to fix it saw me in nothing but a towel. Next, the only functioning A/C unit in the house leaked on some of my most precious books in my library - things I had brought home from Europe and a children's book from my childhood that I still hold near and dear on top of other things. Then came Father with his pissy attitude and computer problems, then Brother #1 with his unfunny sense of humor, and finally Mother who was just tired and 'not in the mood'. During all of this I did manage to grab a relaxing lunch in with an old friend, but by 8:30pm EST I was in no mood for anyone and everyone could certainly sense this in my voice.

As I leaned over the bathtub ringing out another soaked rag from underneath my leaky A/C I couldn't help but think that I would end the MotherFucker who dialed my house digits one more time. I mean I still needed to finish packing... (!!!)

The problem was, I needed to return things to people, CD's a dress, books, etc... And I shouldn't be rude to some of the only people in the world who put up with me and my bullshit. So I made stressed phone calls while stuffing more towels under the window frame and attempted to pull myself together before my ride showed up, (this girl has traveled much for having never in her life owned a car. I'm not proud of this.)

Winston's Cafe was the spot at around 9:00pm this evening, and at first with only a vodka tonic in front of me I was red at the idea of singing during their Thursday Karaoke Night. After two more beers though, it was 'Criminal' by Fiona Apple. I stood there laughing most of the time and grasping my friend's hand like a vise. After another beer, it was a group of us singing Radiohead's 'Creep.' Then for the finale, Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody' with the whole bar, (including our waiter,) belting at the top of our lungs. It's really was one of those nights you don't want to forget.

And now I am sitting in my cramped attic on the mattress left for me on the floor. The dripping from the A/C has stopped for now and the house sleeps. I've just finished packing and am delaying the dragging of Suitcase #4 down the stairs seeing as it might wake the dog. Instead, I think I will catch a nap before I'm rudely awakened and shoved into my father's Tahoe.

I will leave you with one picture taken the first week I was in town. It's of one of my dearest friends dancing with her little sister while listening to the jazz music channel on Cox Cable, (yeah, we think the name is funny too.)

Yes Please, Virginia.

It's not the most exciting Commonwealth amongst the four in the Union, but it is my birth place and childhood residence. I can't help but miss it everytime I leave. Dear old Viringia...

Sic Semper Tyrannis!

Thus to Tyrants!

Well tomorrow bright and early I will have loaded everything into the back of the Tahoe and be on my way to the next best Commonwealth. I do think though that I should be more excited about returning to Pittsburgh, but I'm just not.

Tomorrow, I'm moving in here with a sophomore I've never met from the Music dept. Fun Times.

I'm not trying to complain, I'm just ornry - like a five year old that hasn't had a nap.

Photo Essay to follow.

Don't Raise Your Voice At Me.

With seven husbands and eight marriges Lana Turner is an example to live by. Here she is testifying at her daughters murder trial after Little Lana (Cheryl Crane) stabbed Turner's lover Johnny Stompanato.

After witnessing a small explosion in Newport News I have decided that I will never get married. Mind you I have been dreaming of that magical day when I make that promise to 'love - honor - and cherish' forever since I was young enough to daydream, but yesterday I was swiftly disillusioned. Last night, I did not want to be in that small apartment sitting in the other room while my best friend and her guy had a screaming match in the bathroom. It doesn't matter what they were arguing about, it isn't any of my business anyway. I just felt like a toddler trapped in a house I couldn't escape. The reality is, she was my ride.

My parents have never fought like that within earshot of their three children, so I missed out on how to cope with mommy and daddy fights. The highlight of the experience is her guy coming into the room I was waiting/hiding in with a red face and bugged eyes looking down at me and attempting to pull me into the 'discussion' with questions that tried to garner him sympathy.

My friend, her friend, and I finally got ready and went to TheClub. While She finished putting on make-up and venting to her tag-a-long idiot of a married friend, (it's an epidemic btw - everyone is getting married between the ages of 18 and 24 in Hampton Roads) and I hit the bar with the fury of every scorned or abandoned woman in the history of the world. With so many people flooding TheClub and having to deal with greeting assholes I haven't seen in ages and will never see after this night, I needed to be as lubricated as possible.

Two beers, three different shots, and two mixed drinks later, (not in that order,) I was dancing on a stage with bars and mirrors like an asshole. I hate that I do that, but who doesn't when they are wasted.

In the end, I still think it is better that I put all men off with asshole-like dancing and drunken hugs then to deal with a Tuesday Night Fight like the one I witnessed. Let me keep all my male friends, and may I never commit to one of them as more then just friends. Cheers! To Spinsterhood at Twenty-One!

bullshitpost.

Your results:
You are Hulk

Hulk 90% Spider-Man 80% Green Lantern 80% Iron Man 75% Catwoman 75% Supergirl 70% The Flash 70% Wonder Woman 60% Superman 50% Batman 40% Robin 35%

You are a wanderer with amazing strength.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz



i'm so lonesome i could cry.

Fuck UnHappiness

Who could be unhappy when sitting on a couch watching the sweetest little girl spin round and round in a Chucky Cheese hat? Her fair blond curls are bouncing around underneath the little blue hat and they glow making a sweet golden aura around her porcelain complexion.

If I had a child I wouldn't want a guy in the picture. Easier said then done I am sure, but today sort of validated my claim. Although, I would want a son.

Go to bed with this:



Apologize to all of your Genevieve's.

P.S. I'm so hungover I would die if I had the energy.

the Virginian Sunday Morning.

With the last three seasons left unseen I am amusing myself for the rest of the weekend, (i.e. today) with a show that uses lines like: "I am not that big a candy ass! Everybody loves guns!!" I was a bad fan of the show and didn't watch really any of the third, fourth, or fifth seasons being the victim of insufficient cable channels in college. At least this go around I get to listen to commentaries.

Saturday night was good old drunken fun up until I discovered my Designated Driver in the bathroom in a really horrible state. I babysat and communicated with her significant other as to how to find the party until He was there to help me get Her in his jeep. I feel awful since she had to leave the brand new car she bought that same day parked on the street a good drive away from where she lives.
I remember as He guided Her to the car, I ran over to Her vehicle, and grabbed everything she needed for work the next day as well as snagged all the CD cases I could find and threw them in the trunk. (It’s a safe neighborhood but not that safe.)

Otherwise I mingled and got to see people that I hadn't seen in a long time as well as chain-smoked my way into a whole. Feeling my chest tighten up this morning really makes me consider quitting. But then I would have to wear my glasses again in order to continue this faux art intellectual look I have going on – or start wearing more pretentious clothes from thrift stores.

Other than this news, I have just learned this morning of the tragedy in Amsterdam. I feel really bad that I laughed when my mother told me...

a Fucked Friday Night.

Not that there is anywhere else that I would like to be in this broke dick town, but sitting in the attic with very dry eyes from wearing contacts for more than five minutes and scanning the internet/Direct TV for entertainment isn't as relaxing/fun/whatever as it should be. Jason Biggs, Jessica Lang, and the Ricci girl are doing there best tonight as Prozac Nation is the only worthy film on tonight. I feel like I should be reading something instead of staring into the glow box.

This girl is disturbed. I can relate in a way, but not a drug induced coma or intense psych sessions with Anne Heiche kind of way. It's more like, 'wow it's hard to be a female in a decently fucked time period' kind of way. It is funny though to see people you know in the fights on the TV screen. I feel very removed from that life, but I know a few families that are very similar. Watching it play out in real life is the same as looking at it now on the silver screen but with 'edgier' dialogue.

Other news from the home front includes my sore jaw from the twelfth and thirteenth fillings placed into my mouth this afternoon. I love my dentist, he is the only one I have ever seen in my life and I trust him more then other health professionals. We decided to try filling on of my molars without Novocain, which I have had done before. When he hit the nerve it was the first time he has ever done that in the many years I have seen him. I jerked and threw a bit of a fit in the dentist chair with the drill still in my mouth. I stared to tear up and couldn't stop shaking as he told me I should never to that again. He numbed every part of my mouth after that and as my tongue started to swell in my mouth he injected a second shot on the left side. By the end of the visit I was cracking jokes with a horrible Novocain lisp. It's just the sore jaw I have right now that still has me a bit creeped this evening. Nothing a shot of Johnny Walker Red won't take care of though...

Recycled News and Comics.

I have already linked to him in the side panel here, but today I enjoyed Wyndham even more than usual. It's the review on Monster House posted the 8th, (yesterday.)

Also, enjoy this from Questionable Content:



Otherwise, nothing ever happens in Virginia worth mentioning. Ask anyone.

In a Good LateNight Mood.

For no reason at all.
Here, have a picture:



I just liked the light.

Another Day at Home.

I haven't done much, except search the web for interesting/useless things that amuse me. One thing of interest found today is as follows:

Een auto en een man en een rivier
Vanaf hier is alles wat het lijkt
de kaart waarop hij kijkt
de sneltram en het kruispunt
en het zwembad
U bevindt zich hier

Herfst en Nieuwegein
in alles wacht
vandaag de eeuwigheid
altijd samen zijn
de herfst en ik
en Nieuwegein

De liefde slaapt in donker cellofaan
’s nachts in Nieuwegein
ze zweeft tussen de snelweg en de maan
de maan is doodgegaan
het was misschien z’n tijd

daar ligt ie nou
je vraagt je af
wie morgen in z’n auto rijdt

Herfst en Nieuwegein
in alles wacht
vandaag de eeuwigheid
altijd samen zijn
de herfst en ik

Altijd samen zijn
De herfst en ik

I can only hope that one of my many Dutch speaking friends can translate the parts that I have yet to do. I love this song, (Herfst en Nieuwegain by Spinvis) and can sing along somewhat, (clumsily mind you.)

Otherwise it has been an afternoon of thunderstorms, cleaning of the bedroom, books-on-tape, vegi-burgers, bleaching, and Gilmore Girls, (yes I am a pathetic fan.)
Another 'vacation day' in southern VA.

There is Nothing Wrong with Nothing.

I really shouldn't judge anyone. The only person who can truly judge is the one you meet at those big gates in the sky right? I hate the fact that I can get on my high horse and become bothered by things that really shouldn't bother me.
Today I have sat on my ass and done a whole lot of nothing, and how could I say anything against anyone who has done the same thing but differently? Anyway, I must say I should apologize for judging people's habits, and I know that my disdain for said habits truly comes from the prolonged exposure to the X-Factor. Unfortunately he actually has disturbed my ability to be accepting.

In other news:

Sitting this afternoon and watching Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil has been a treat except for the fact that my parents house is disgustingly unorganized.
Pillows and blankets all over the living room that is also stuffed with magazines, old jewelry, parts of an inheritance, old crafts from my mothers ill fated project binges, dog toys, baskets of clean laundry that needs to be put away, and tons of books - everywhere. I just want to throw things into boxes and airlift half of this crap out of here.
My childhood was spent accumulating things that this family doesn’t need and now that we are on a hot streak for buying even more shit my family has come to find that we have no place to put any of it. So things are piled on top of each other and shoved together like a jumbled Tetris puzzle.
There is no real point to my rattling on, I’m just tired, a bit bored, and not really reaching any kind of end.

the Chance Meeting on Brandon Ave.

On a whim today I decided to call a friend in order to hang out for a bit as well as give her German gifts. Getting into the truck which was an oven on wheels, I inserted the Eraser into the CD player and headed into Norfolk. After parking the Tahoe I walked towards the apartment and spotted his car right away. The person I speek of is none other than theKiller, who I had thought would be out of town for the weekend. You see the friend I was visiting was his roommate and I assumed that he would not be there so I could relax with people for a bit on this very slow Sunday.

I thought to myself that perhaps he isn't there, just his car, that's all... but this didn't keep my heart from racing furiously and I started to sweat for once from something other then the heat.

When I knocked on the door of the apartment I was so thankful to have someone, anyone other than him answer the door, but he was definatly there. He sat in the living room and looked in my direction as I came through the door. I wanted to melt, run, or at least blush furiously but instead I looked away quickly and consentrated on greeting the J-Bot. He got up and after my hug with J-Bot, he tells me, 'Welcome back to theStates.' and hugs me as well. I pulled away a little soon just out of sheer uncomfortable shyness.

The afternoon that followed was a very relaxed one but it took me a little while to settle my mind down. I kept running outside to 'Get some air,' when really I just wanted to grip my chest to keep my heart from escaping out of my throat. It was already hot in the apartment, but I felt ten times more unconfortable just sitting within 20 feet of him. I felt the most unattractive and unintelligent I believe I have ever felt in my life. Question: How does a man do that to a stupid girl after four months of being so far apart?

After finally settling down we were able to talk, listen to music, and watch others play video games with ease. The Others were more interested in smoking as much pot as humanly possible in under 20 minutes which I have to say annoyed the Hell out of me. I always liked the fact that he was able to distance himself from certain habits that others around here occupy too much of their time with.
By the end of my visit the others were sitting stoned out of their minds watching a movie while theKiller and I stayed out on the balcony. We caught each other up as well as talked about plans for the future. His big move to C'ville is more on his mind then anything else so we talked a lot about his job application to UVA and the band that he will be working with up there... etc.
It was nice, and I felt satisfied that I didn't make an ass of myself. I'm of course wanting to see him again before I leave and can only hope that it won't be so dramatic inside of my head next time. I really need to settle down.

The Celebration.

My return was not the only reason to gather friends at an Undisclosed Location somewhere in Southern Virginia. A mutualFriend also wound up getting married on her birthday, (Aug. 3rd,) so glasses were raised, JagerBombs were dropped and 'good' American beer was more than available.

It was strange twisting the caps off bottles again.

As we sat on the back porch talking, laughing, sharing tattoo experiences/advice/artist's names, and downing Coors Light - I kept thinking in the back of my head that this is my last vacation for a while. Then I thought: why am I looking at my hometown as a vacation spot and not my home?
It became so clear last night that I don't live here anymore. I mean, I don't really have a permanent residence at all. I live at Carnegie Mellon for most of the year, but I don't tell people I'm from Pittsburgh. At the same time I am not registered to vote here in Virginia. The only mail I get at my parent's house is from the local bank, and mail that has been forwarded from Pittsburgh from my P.O. Box in Oakland.
I also don't carry membership cards from anything, or save those repeat spender coffee cards when I don’t frequent anything for very long. I have two bank accounts, (and at one point three,) to make travel easier. I haven’t had a job for more then three to four months at a time. I have managed to dwindle down all of my belonging to fit into three bags - one of which is specifically for my computer. The artifacts from my childhood are in a storage unit 30 minutes from my parent’s house along with more of my mother’s inheritance. When I’m in town, I sleep in the attic, not my childhood bedroom, and share a space with Christmas decorations and my mother's forgotten craft projects.
All this when written down and organized sounds a little sad and I might seem a bit lost. The reality is though: this is the transition from high school to the adult world that is known as College for most folks my age here in theStates.

I was asked by Someone last night, (as I always am here,) if I am coming back to stay after theBigDay in May 2007. I answered the way that I always do, “I’d like to, but we will have to see what happens this year.”
Give me about four months and theFuture might seem a bit more clear.

Greener Grass?

::preface:: I'm exhausted.

I fucking hate Heathrow Airport.

Otherwise the trip was cramped but enjoyable considering I sat next to another German speaker and was able to live a bit more of the Experience before exiting the plane and seeing nothing but signs in English.

As I exited the gate and into the main terminal I heard a click and saw my Dad, Nikon in hand, behind the main frosted barrier that keeps people from rushing at their loved ones. Turns out, we both bought the same brand of booze to celebrate my return. We sat up late with CNN on mute and talked about everything and lots about nothing- the good kind of nothing.

The ride home was much longer then expected, but my first real meal made up for it. The vegitable plate at Crackle Barrel consisted of fried okra, mashed 'taters,' steak fries, and hashbrown caserole. Add that to the two fried eggs over heard and you have the perfect southern meal in my eyes. The only requests I had after that were for more sweet tea and butter.

La Bella got her gifts, and enjoyed them, but couldn't enjoy me long enough seeing as jet lag had caught up with me. I watched Proof, and sit now in my humble attic on the old mattress resting on the floor in the corner. I'm missing Berlin like crazy, but at the same time feel beyond happy to be home.

Last Berlin Essay.

Last Night in Berlin,

and i think i just might cry.

the city has just cooled down and tonight is just so beautiful.

a few people are coming over to visit me and we will say our goodbye's. then tomorrow i must go and reliquish my apartment to the next girl.

i will cry right now just thinking about it all.