The sexy status of Steve Guttenberg.

I watched a youtube video of Steve Guttenberg jogging with no pants or underwear on! What is going on? That man could have had a great career in his later years! I loved him in the Police Academy movies, and now he had to go and become all crazy and shit. It's sad. I honestly hope this is a joke. Let's assume it is so I can continue my creepy crush on Steve Guttenberg that I've been harboring since childhood. If not, Officer Mahoney, put some fucking pants on!

Sad.

I've been homesick lately and today was such an emotional day. I got home from my doctor's appointment and just laid in bed and cried for an hour until I fell asleep. I woke up five hours later with eyes swollen near-shut and I suppose that's what's hurting my odds of crashing right now. I'm not entirely sure of what I was crying about specifically, but I felt angry. I felt angry about a lot of things going on with me and around this world that I can only have faith in improving. It was sad. And usually at the end of an intense cry, you'd feel better, but I awoke feeling as bad as when it all started. Things that existed in my mind only as minor thoughts kept jumping on my head until they collapsed into my brain. And it felt terrible. The planned events for the rest of the day were mostly cancelled, and I spent a good part of the afternoon eating and moping around until now. I called Teddy three times in a half hour to tell him how much I love him.

Normally, if I were someone else, I'd tell them to suck it up. I don't like feeling sorry for myself and I really believe in people controlling their own attitudes. I don't have much self-respect when I'm caving into myself. But I'm realizing that, done privately, it's ok to have these days every once in a while.


Tomorrow will be better.

Angel Dust!

I had my second interview at the Hilton today. I was offered the job at the end, to which I accepted. They did my background check - CLEAR! - and I took a drug test. According to this test, I do PCP. I don't even know how you take PCP! I told Teddy and he said that it's some drug that makes you super violent, and I recall this anti-drug movie I saw when I was younger with Helen Hunt where she takes it and ends up throwing herself out a window. Oh wait, here...


Anyway... so they send me over to this medical office on the east side, I pee in a cup, they run the same type of test basically, and I'm negative for all drugs. And I'm proud of myself that I haven't done any stupid drugs in a long time, but that's another story from when I was another person. On the way back home, I get lost driving through the north side and I'm basically crying because at some point I realize I'm almost half-way to Milwaukee. I have horrible sense of (driving) direction. So somehow I get back on track and as I'm pulling into the driveway I realize that I'm just barely out of gas. A half hour later, the girl from Hilton's human resources department calls me up and says at this point I can schedule my orientation. I'm really smug with her because when the PCP thing came up at the HR interview, she treated me like some kind of drug addict. Whatever, I don't have time to hate on people at this point.

I layed around and ate, took a nap. Really acted lazy today. I'm trying to take full advantage of the time I have off, even if I am broke. It's slowly sinking in, how much really I was working before. There were weeks, full months where I left the office and went straight to the bar to work all night. It's crazy. I'd do this so many days in a row. Then I'd finally get a night off, and I'd spend all my money on drinks for everyone because I was so relieved to not be at work. So this is a strange transition period, where I'm trying to live frugally and figure out the simple(free) things that make me happy. I do know that I don't want to drink anymore and that I really need to get into shape.

Our neighbors on each side of the house and on the first floor below us are all having parties. It's 12:30am and I need to be at work by 8:30 tomorrow morning. I just took a melatonin, which has been giving me some really borderline psychotic dreams, but they help so I still keep them around. It's kicking in now...

Downtime

So I had day two of work at the new job at the Orpheum. It's been training so far and I've only met a small few of the people there, but I'm really excited for everything. The Orpheum is such an insane building. So much history, really amazing.

Since I'm still in the learning phase of the job, I haven't had to put in too many hours. So I've been home a lot, organizing. I've been downloading a whole ton of music, watching a lot of horrible daytime tv, reading some good books. I've been getting some really nice messages from people at the old job, wishing me well. I'm sure going to miss that place, or at least all the wonderful people there. Yesterday I found myself lamenting. I really liken the whole thing to an ex-boyfriend. I went through office belongings of mine that I had packed in such a hurry. Examined every item, and felt sad. My old coffee mug, still with coffee stains from the morning I left. There's no point in me lingering on all this, I know.

I'm doing research on nursing schools. My mother has made it clear over and over that I'm welcome to move back home to save money. This is feasible, but will definitely take some thinking over. Transition periods are hard, but I'm realizing how flexible I really am. And I can't deny the fact that I feel really happy right now.

While I have such downtime, I'm writing more. I've decided to make some music too. We'll see how that pans out.

Anyway, this is what I look like now that I'm relatively stress free...

Lean Cuisine

As I put the fork to my mouth, I look down. I feel as if I'm a giant and I'm eating with oversized utensils. This is because my cup's worth of lean cuisine pasta feels so small. It's like I'm sitting at a preschool table eating off a child's plate. The shrimp in the pasta are of the popcorn variety. They should be popcorned, at least, because they're so small. My little shrimp soldiers. There are peas in it, and the peas seem unnaturally big, menacing. My lilliputian soldier shrimp are being bombarded by green pea cannonballs! Small noodles float in a lake of viscose alfredo sauce, drowning, struggling to keep afloat. It's a war of the worlds in my Lean Cuisine dish and all I can do is tilt my head and frown at it.

I've been eating Lean Cuisine dishes at work lately. Sometimes two a day. I eat and look like the women on my father's side of the family, minus the boobs. It's a very middle-american way to eat and look. Oversized portions, 15 pounds of excess weight around my middle. Muffin-tops are the regular thing - you know, when your belly fat creeps over just so, a little over your jeans. I'm not sure if I have any girlfriends without muffin-tops. I'm not sure I want any. I really wonder sometimes what it would take for me to go vegan like I always say I will.

Until then, Lean Cuisine me by the two's!

May-jah!

Know what it feels like when people ask me what I planned on doing with my major? I'll tell you. They may as well have been saying things like:

1. You have no direction.
2. Your parents must be gluttons for disappointment.
3. You're really relying on graduate school, huh?
4. Have fun bartending the rest of your life.

Two years ago while I was a senior in college, I was bartending and a friend introduced me to his neighbor, a grad student. The grad student became somewhat of a regular. One night, he asked if he could buy me a shot. When I declined and told him I had to show up at the VanHise Building by 8:50 the next morning, he replied, quite puzzled "I didn't think you were the type to go to college". So not only did my majors not make sense, I came off as the type who wouldn't even have an undergrad.


What a mindfuck.

America is addicted.

My mom has this theory that everyone in America is addicted to something.

ad·dic·tion
/əˈdɪkʃən/ [uh-dik-shuhn]
–noun
the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes trauma.
[Origin: 1595–1605; < L addictiōn- (s. of addictiō) a giving over, surrender.


It doesn't even have to be drugs or alcohol.

What are we addicted to? How thin is the line between love and addiction?


Consumerism, sleep, food, intimacy, approval, apathy, attention, music, collectibles, exercise, pornography, cleanliness, people, love, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

I'm addicted to hugs. You think I'm lying, don't you?


What are you addicted to?