avon calling.

i'm sitting at three in the morning watching edward scissorhands on dvd and thinking about why i am up this late. you would have thought the beer, crown and ginger, modified car bomb, and the crown royal from a flask chased with cheap scotch would have done me in. instead it has simply effected my ability to spell.

tonight made me realize that i can never just be happy in either virginia or pittsburgh. i have more friends here, but i am so far removed from their lives the short time i spend here doesn't count for much. in pittsburgh i lack the friends but there is much more to do and see and in all honesty i've had more club oriented fun - all be it alone.

i need to start the "more cool people in the 'burgh" campaign.

When Night Gets Light.

I'm still up sitting in old yoga pants and t-shirt gumming on my clear plastic mouth guard hoping that Ashton Kutcher will finally hook up with Amanda Pete so there might be closure brought to some part of my life. It's true that I have spent the first half week of my vacation attempting to rival my mother's pre-paid Fresh Market stuffed turkey in weight and gummy complexion, but with the illness of the past two months weighing down on my motivation, I can't think of anything else that makes me happier than a 5am airing of Disney's live action classic, 'Sky High.'

On a happier note, I bought one of these today:



Like several before me I spent several hours typing in my tasks, contacts, personal information, and finally appointments with the dainty stylist. My hands grew sweaty around the pricy hunk of metal as I realized after putting in my schedule for the next semester I was still a little empty inside about the fact that I had no appointments until the 4th of January. I started to wonder about the folks that buy these devices in order to complicate their lives further by creating appointments for each day - over tasking themselves into oblivion. It was then I understood that I was thinking about all of this far too much and decided to cook three eggs and watch Donnie Darko for the 45th time.

I Hate New York City.

I gave it a chance. I've been twice, no three times!

Summer 2003: My graduation present was a one week trip with my family. The first day I saw a homeless man
defecate in the subway. I asked myself, 'Welcome to New York?' By the end of the week I just wanted to get out of there - I was choking on the city.

Summer 2004: Probably the most fun I had in the city. I stayed with my then roommate and former friend for a week and liked it alright - I gave it a real chance and I believe looking back it was fun because of the people I got to spend it with not because I did anything spectacular.

Winter 2006: JFK airport. People crowd the terminal like clothed animals grunting and growling - clawing and groping through security and then on to the different terminals. Everyone puts so much effort into connecting with others via their cell phones and ipods that they cannot conceive of giving a shit about anyone around them. Chatting with someone, asking questions, cracking a polite joke - all seen as trivial and dumb to the high and mighty NYers.

I never want to ever even have another layover in that God forsaken land. it just proves that when people are squeezed into a space that has them breathing down each other's necks ... I don't know, it's Lord of the Flies or something.

Some Girls Like June.

All that they really want is to go out and enjoy the time that they spend with friends instead of being crammed in cars with strangers praying not to get caught at sober check points on the bridges from the South Side. I get very annoyed when I'm standing at the bar with a friend that won't stop trying to touch my back or 'take care of me' whilst amongst the drunks. That's not a friend, it's someone to watch out for - because if you get too drunk you're going to get taken advantage of.

Can you answer me a question? Why can't a girl get that one guy she wants? Instead, it's the guy friend that won't stop making hideous passes at her. When ever the end of the night comes, and I settle into my apartment alone I'm not thinking about anything other than the fact that I love being alone. After being driven or walked home I cannot wait to shed the escort and then my smoke soaked clothes to be enveloped by internet radio and Velux blankets. The next step is shutting out those thoughts of annoyance and bring on the fantasy of the impossible in order to fall asleep.

I was invited to a party in the old apartment that I lived in. My former roommate was down the hall - who knows if she was sitting inside or out with me ex. I can't help but want to dig up the hatchet and split the old door into pieces that splintered across the room. (Even after a year of not seeing either of them I'm still attempting to suppress the feelings of hurt that manifest into rage.)

The moral of the story is that there is no moral. There is no reason behind how I feel right now because there are too many thoughts actually going through my head.