Apparently our family is going to start a blog for our trip, so it may be that my days on here are numbered. But. I seriously doubt that. Especially seeing as the name of this blog will be "Fish in the Sea" if my sister gets her way or "Life on the Other Side" if my mother does. And it, as mi madre informs me, must be censored along the parameters of "nothing that Grandma would feel uncomfortable reading". Well, I hope that Grandma is comfortable with the name "Nelson's Posse" because that is what I am pulling for.
The city where crime never sleeps is running smoothly at the moment. And time is once again proving to me that no matter how much you are attached to a place or the people in it, if you just wait awhile, you won't think about them so often and it won't hurt anymore. Denial, yes. It is my drug of choice. And I work well with it, quite frankly. I mostly believe that denial is the one reason that I am not completely scarred by losing Olive. She was my everything for so many years, but I am still the same person without here. Less naive, maybe. But I am still silly, and still want to save the world, and I'm still happy. Not as much. But quite a bit. It didn't break me, because I don't really remember her. That's not normal. It's only been a year, and you can't forget the essence of six years of your life just like that. It's not gone, it's just blocked. And it's blocked in order to keep me sane. Denial is not something to be ashamed of. It's like a painkiller for a lot of perfectly functional people. Cramps might be there and in reality your body might be experiencing excruciating pain, but why allow your brain and senses to feel it if you don't have to. Pop an ibuprofen and block your pain receptors with wonderful little chemicals in order to let yourself live your life.
And my mouth still hurts from getting my wisdom teeth "extracted". Not quite like hell anymore, but maybe closer to purgatory. I can stand it because I lost 5 lbs.
"Let's crack jokes!"
-my sister, every minute of every day...so adorable that it gives me a migraine.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Sunday, September 16, 2007
100 yrs of chocolate mediocrity
I am so psyched to sleep tonight because I think I will finally be able to go the entire night without waking up with a migraine from me clenching my teeth. My current lack of stress is due to the fact that I don't think I have cancer anymore. Even though they are sending me to get ultrasounds and go to the breast cancer surgeon, I am almost positive that the lump under my arm got smaller. And cancer doesn't get smaller. Which means the only that the only cancer that will define my life in the near future is the crab-kind with a capital C (and no, I am not referring to an STD). Knock on wood, fingers crossed--regarding the cancer, not the STD.
Recent thoughts:
-Hershey was a very nice man to have built a theme park purely for the enjoyment of his employees (100 years ago). However, this does not change the fact that a) his park, though fun, offers nothing close to the magic or imagination of Disneyland at nearly the same price, and b) his chocolate is not that good.
-My mother is high if she thinks she can lay down a 3 movie limit for the flight to South Africa. I plan to be watching movies THE ENTIRE 17-hour flight to Jo-burg. Surprisingly, my mother has almost completely backed down from her Hitler-esque mandate when I made it clear that it would not be followed. I think my gracious gesture to pause my movies during meals won her over.
-I plan to use the much-feared experience of getting my wisdom teeth out and the proceeding pain and restrictions on food to lose weight. How can I not drop pounds when all I am allowed to eat initially after the operation is jello, ice cream and yogurt. (I only like savory foods for actual sustenence.) This may sound like it is bordering on scary-diet behavior, but I think it is merely a prudent method of maximizing expected gains from the whole debacle...gains which will be further increased by watching all of Grey's Anatomy Season 3 while I am "in recovery."
-My sister is dope shit.....even when she gets cranky and pulls the strings of her hood tight and ties them so that only a fistfull of her face is showing under her sunglasses. It is especially enjoyable that during those instances she responds to the name Alien.
-I thoroughly appreciated the movie The Thomas Crown Affair. But I did not appreciate seeing Rene Russo naked, or seeing her wildly get it on with Pierce Brosnin all over his house. Seriously? Marble staircase sex? Seriously? Seriously. Spare me.
That is all.
Recent thoughts:
-Hershey was a very nice man to have built a theme park purely for the enjoyment of his employees (100 years ago). However, this does not change the fact that a) his park, though fun, offers nothing close to the magic or imagination of Disneyland at nearly the same price, and b) his chocolate is not that good.
-My mother is high if she thinks she can lay down a 3 movie limit for the flight to South Africa. I plan to be watching movies THE ENTIRE 17-hour flight to Jo-burg. Surprisingly, my mother has almost completely backed down from her Hitler-esque mandate when I made it clear that it would not be followed. I think my gracious gesture to pause my movies during meals won her over.
-I plan to use the much-feared experience of getting my wisdom teeth out and the proceeding pain and restrictions on food to lose weight. How can I not drop pounds when all I am allowed to eat initially after the operation is jello, ice cream and yogurt. (I only like savory foods for actual sustenence.) This may sound like it is bordering on scary-diet behavior, but I think it is merely a prudent method of maximizing expected gains from the whole debacle...gains which will be further increased by watching all of Grey's Anatomy Season 3 while I am "in recovery."
-My sister is dope shit.....even when she gets cranky and pulls the strings of her hood tight and ties them so that only a fistfull of her face is showing under her sunglasses. It is especially enjoyable that during those instances she responds to the name Alien.
-I thoroughly appreciated the movie The Thomas Crown Affair. But I did not appreciate seeing Rene Russo naked, or seeing her wildly get it on with Pierce Brosnin all over his house. Seriously? Marble staircase sex? Seriously? Seriously. Spare me.
That is all.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Pole Dancers For Peace
I am unleashing my unabashed liberal views on the streets of Baltimore. When mi madre let me know that we would be participating in a peace stand on 9/11, I thought it would be vigil-like and, well, boring. Fortunately, it turned out to be more along the lines of yelling at passing cars from a busy intersection along which a gaggle of peace protesters were gathered. People were supposedly gathered all along N. Charles throughout the city, but I am sure that nobody was as entertaining in their peacefulness as my mother, sister and me.
I couldn't be as original in my poster-making as I wanted to be...my mother kabashed the 'Pole Dancers for Peace' idea before it even got on paper--I wasn't going to actually pole dance, just lean seductively against the telephone pole. I was similarly disallowed from promoting Barack because peace is apparently non-partisan according to the Baltimore Women in Black who coordinated the 'peace path.' My anti-Baltimore mayoral candidate (who shall remain nameless so that I don't get cussed out by crazy politicians on this blog again) slogan, "Another day, another death, Vote ____ _____ for Mayor and uphold the 'peace'" was also disqualified by my discerning mother. However, due to my undaunted creative genius, I was able to pull together a Chicago outfit (cubs hat and CHICAGO shirt), that was supposed to be an implied plug for Obama when combined with my 'Vote for Peace in 2008' sign. Only one person really got the message as far as I know, but a lot of people honked for peace in general.
Also, I should note that I am actually terrified of my lump-under-the-arm-removal surgery. I haven't been sleeping well because I'm scared of dying of cancer. The doctor didn't tell me straight out that she thought there was any chance that it was cancerous, but she did say that the general surgeon would want to take it out and biopsy it. I'm not stupid, I know what biopsy means. It means, see if it is cancer and if it is there is a good chance you will be checking out of this world just like Olive did. Maybe unlikely, but I am a hypochondriac and am particularly paranoid ever since the aforementioned checking out of Olive, and the past few weeks of "maybe you have lupis...maybe not...but your blood results do show markers of an auto-immune disease." Pssht. Whatever.
I'm in pretty good spirits right now anyway because I got the ass-kickingest 80's slash 90's sweatshirt today, aaaand I just found out that Amanda Bynes has a new movie coming out. Score.
"I'm a hustler, I'm a, I'm a huster."
-Mi hermanita y yo every time we see one of the Hustler golf carts rolling around Baltimore to take YOU and YOUR FRIENDS to the nearest Hustler Club.
I couldn't be as original in my poster-making as I wanted to be...my mother kabashed the 'Pole Dancers for Peace' idea before it even got on paper--I wasn't going to actually pole dance, just lean seductively against the telephone pole. I was similarly disallowed from promoting Barack because peace is apparently non-partisan according to the Baltimore Women in Black who coordinated the 'peace path.' My anti-Baltimore mayoral candidate (who shall remain nameless so that I don't get cussed out by crazy politicians on this blog again) slogan, "Another day, another death, Vote ____ _____ for Mayor and uphold the 'peace'" was also disqualified by my discerning mother. However, due to my undaunted creative genius, I was able to pull together a Chicago outfit (cubs hat and CHICAGO shirt), that was supposed to be an implied plug for Obama when combined with my 'Vote for Peace in 2008' sign. Only one person really got the message as far as I know, but a lot of people honked for peace in general.
Also, I should note that I am actually terrified of my lump-under-the-arm-removal surgery. I haven't been sleeping well because I'm scared of dying of cancer. The doctor didn't tell me straight out that she thought there was any chance that it was cancerous, but she did say that the general surgeon would want to take it out and biopsy it. I'm not stupid, I know what biopsy means. It means, see if it is cancer and if it is there is a good chance you will be checking out of this world just like Olive did. Maybe unlikely, but I am a hypochondriac and am particularly paranoid ever since the aforementioned checking out of Olive, and the past few weeks of "maybe you have lupis...maybe not...but your blood results do show markers of an auto-immune disease." Pssht. Whatever.
I'm in pretty good spirits right now anyway because I got the ass-kickingest 80's slash 90's sweatshirt today, aaaand I just found out that Amanda Bynes has a new movie coming out. Score.
"I'm a hustler, I'm a, I'm a huster."
-Mi hermanita y yo every time we see one of the Hustler golf carts rolling around Baltimore to take YOU and YOUR FRIENDS to the nearest Hustler Club.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Phoebe goes to the doctor, the blood lab and to a surgical consult
Today blew. It was the kind of day that you knew was going downhill as soon as you were shaken urgently awake much too early and required to perform some ridiculous task. Today the shaker was mi madre and the task was getting my blood test results faxed from Seattle so that I could take them to my B-town doctor. Happily I don't necessarily have lupis. Yesss. Unfortunately, I am mildy anemic (big surprise) and also have low/positive immune deficiency markers which means that I may or may not have some kind of immune definciency disease. Earlier when I asked what kind of diseases those were I was bluntly told, "well, you know, like AIDS, lupis, etc." Fantastic.
I also have to get two unrelated surgeries in the next month. I have to get four impacted wisdom teeth yanked (this does not count as a simple teeth-pulling because you have to go to an oral SURGEON and they have to break your bone), and I have to get a possibly-but-not-likely-cancerous bump removed from under my arm.
So much for being able to rest now that I'm done with school.
On the plus side, though, I met a cute professional squash player from Botswana today, and Season 3 of Grey's Anatomy comes out on dvd tomorrow. Who cares about operations and HIV when you have Dr. McDreamy and some dude with dreads in your life?
"Tommy Lee Jones would NEVER marry Pamela Anderson or punch Kid Rock."
-mi madre ....I agree
I also have to get two unrelated surgeries in the next month. I have to get four impacted wisdom teeth yanked (this does not count as a simple teeth-pulling because you have to go to an oral SURGEON and they have to break your bone), and I have to get a possibly-but-not-likely-cancerous bump removed from under my arm.
So much for being able to rest now that I'm done with school.
On the plus side, though, I met a cute professional squash player from Botswana today, and Season 3 of Grey's Anatomy comes out on dvd tomorrow. Who cares about operations and HIV when you have Dr. McDreamy and some dude with dreads in your life?
"Tommy Lee Jones would NEVER marry Pamela Anderson or punch Kid Rock."
-mi madre ....I agree
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Another day, another death...Vote _____ for Mayor of Baltimore!
I've gotten a little worried about my dad recently. The man who single-handedly inspired my hatred of the death penalty, my love of Ron Sims and my animosity towards Reagan has been taking babysteps towards the dark side, in my opinion. I think it is mainly the fault of his job, but he's been getting a little bitter, and his bitterness is leading him towards the GOP.
This is not that big of a problem because 1) he's not actually even close to being Republican (yet)...he is just disillusioned with things like welfare and is apparently opposed to immigration reform and 2) he can't vote anyway because he's not a US citizen.
I think it will be okay as soon as he moves away from Baltimore and no longer has to deal with the murder-a-day complications of living in one of the most violent slash impoverished slash old-school urban cities in America.
"When I am a sister, I will be soccer-ing all the time."
-my little sis at the age of two, watching my soccer game
This is not that big of a problem because 1) he's not actually even close to being Republican (yet)...he is just disillusioned with things like welfare and is apparently opposed to immigration reform and 2) he can't vote anyway because he's not a US citizen.
I think it will be okay as soon as he moves away from Baltimore and no longer has to deal with the murder-a-day complications of living in one of the most violent slash impoverished slash old-school urban cities in America.
"When I am a sister, I will be soccer-ing all the time."
-my little sis at the age of two, watching my soccer game
Saturday, September 8, 2007
"Ooh, child..."
Seattle is my home. Seattle is where all my friends are. And I would practically do anything right now to be back there. The only reason that there is a practically in that sentence preventing it from becoming reality is because I love South Africa, I love my family, and I want to go there and spend time with them.
I just hate the fact that I have to give up my Seattle life and friends to do it.
I know its not giving them up for good, but I know how things go. A third of my friends will all but forget about me, not because they don't love me, but because I will be absent. Another third will miss me for now, but never see me again because our paths just won't cross in the future. The final third keeps me sane. But I can't help but wonder who fate and destiny and chance will put into that group.
Yes, this is me being emo. But there is nothing in the world that I hate more than saying goodbye. Not Reagan. Not even the death penalty.
On a sillier note, here is a classic quote from my mother, followed by a series of unsent half-kidding messages that a friend and I wrote once:
"Mojo, don't kick her right now. She has a lot on her mind."
-my mother, addressing my sister regarding our cat that they had just stapled into a paper bag.
The Phoebe and Chloe letters-only somewhat censored:
"Basically I just wanted to let you know that I have a silly crush on you. This
is probably semi-illegitimate, but I can't seem to make it go away, even though I have tried to. I understand if you can't see me again, which is fine I probably shouldn't be telling you this, I just feel weird not telling you. I hope we can still go out to coffee [bleep bleep bleep bleep], because I genuinely [bleep bleep] and I also respect your opinion and simply enjoy spending time with you. Let me know what you think. Sorry for being so ridiculous. If I don't hear from you again, have
a lovely quarter and good luck on your exams. (:
Chloe
[Jake] in da house!
But I wish it was [jake] in da bed!
Yah, I totally want your nuts.
-Chloe
Hey [jake],
So, like oh my GoD! i tHiNk I haVe a liTtLe cRush on YoU!
[Jake],
You are my [Matt Johnson].
Don't worry, I know where you live and we'll be together eventually.
Love, Chloe
ps. I could kill you and no one would know.
Dear [Matt Johnson],
I want your nuts.
-Phoebe B.
[Matt],
I think that heaven would just be the two of us, a bubble bath, and some orange
soda. I really like orange soda. Don't worry, I'll find you.
Kisses! Phoebe
[Jake],
If you marry someone who is not me, I will hide as a midget clown among your
children's stuffed animals...
C"
Now, wasn't that lovely?
"...things are gonna get easier."
-The Five Stairsteps
I just hate the fact that I have to give up my Seattle life and friends to do it.
I know its not giving them up for good, but I know how things go. A third of my friends will all but forget about me, not because they don't love me, but because I will be absent. Another third will miss me for now, but never see me again because our paths just won't cross in the future. The final third keeps me sane. But I can't help but wonder who fate and destiny and chance will put into that group.
Yes, this is me being emo. But there is nothing in the world that I hate more than saying goodbye. Not Reagan. Not even the death penalty.
On a sillier note, here is a classic quote from my mother, followed by a series of unsent half-kidding messages that a friend and I wrote once:
"Mojo, don't kick her right now. She has a lot on her mind."
-my mother, addressing my sister regarding our cat that they had just stapled into a paper bag.
The Phoebe and Chloe letters-only somewhat censored:
"Basically I just wanted to let you know that I have a silly crush on you. This
is probably semi-illegitimate, but I can't seem to make it go away, even though I have tried to. I understand if you can't see me again, which is fine I probably shouldn't be telling you this, I just feel weird not telling you. I hope we can still go out to coffee [bleep bleep bleep bleep], because I genuinely [bleep bleep] and I also respect your opinion and simply enjoy spending time with you. Let me know what you think. Sorry for being so ridiculous. If I don't hear from you again, have
a lovely quarter and good luck on your exams. (:
Chloe
[Jake] in da house!
But I wish it was [jake] in da bed!
Yah, I totally want your nuts.
-Chloe
Hey [jake],
So, like oh my GoD! i tHiNk I haVe a liTtLe cRush on YoU!
[Jake],
You are my [Matt Johnson].
Don't worry, I know where you live and we'll be together eventually.
Love, Chloe
ps. I could kill you and no one would know.
Dear [Matt Johnson],
I want your nuts.
-Phoebe B.
[Matt],
I think that heaven would just be the two of us, a bubble bath, and some orange
soda. I really like orange soda. Don't worry, I'll find you.
Kisses! Phoebe
[Jake],
If you marry someone who is not me, I will hide as a midget clown among your
children's stuffed animals...
C"
Now, wasn't that lovely?
"...things are gonna get easier."
-The Five Stairsteps
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Happy Birthday, Harry Potter!
Here are my current major qualms about being a girl:
1) Stretch marks....you don't even get them because you're fat...just because you happened to get taller at some point in your life. And then, THEY NEVER GO AWAY.
2) Dropping your birth control pills down the sink accidentally. What a great way to not get pregnant! The sad thing here is that I don't think most people are dumb enough to lose a pill in the three seconds between popping it out of the package and swallowing it. Plus, I'm not even sleeping with anybody, so I won't actually get knocked up.
3) Being looked at by skeezeballs when you pass by.
4) Being annoyed that you are not looked at by non-skeezeballs when you pass by.
5) Getting "hollered at" in front of your father....it's just awkward.
6) Blushing. Maybe some guys do it too, but I haven't really seen it. And the next time someone says to me "OMG, you are like sooo red right now! Do you know that?!" I will actually knife them.
7) When you have a bad day, instead of people being like, "Oh yeah, just leave him alone, he's in a bad mood," they're like, "God, why are you being a bitch? Is it that time of the month?"
Life is basically just really really hard. Not really because of that list, though, more because I have been working literally 11 hours a day on Spanish+my thesis. What makes it bearable is that for the past three nights I have watched She's the Man every night. That movie is dope shit, and if you don't think it's hysterically funny, then you can go kick rocks.
"Bobby was the first guy working on his game, even before the coaches showed up. Bobby was making me look bad. He was not only pushing himself to get better, he was pushing us to get better."
-Brandon Roy
(awww...I heart Bobby Jones. He can come back to Seattle too, as soon as the Sonics leave and Paul Allan brings B-Roy and the Trailblazers here, and then Bobby gets traded to them.)
1) Stretch marks....you don't even get them because you're fat...just because you happened to get taller at some point in your life. And then, THEY NEVER GO AWAY.
2) Dropping your birth control pills down the sink accidentally. What a great way to not get pregnant! The sad thing here is that I don't think most people are dumb enough to lose a pill in the three seconds between popping it out of the package and swallowing it. Plus, I'm not even sleeping with anybody, so I won't actually get knocked up.
3) Being looked at by skeezeballs when you pass by.
4) Being annoyed that you are not looked at by non-skeezeballs when you pass by.
5) Getting "hollered at" in front of your father....it's just awkward.
6) Blushing. Maybe some guys do it too, but I haven't really seen it. And the next time someone says to me "OMG, you are like sooo red right now! Do you know that?!" I will actually knife them.
7) When you have a bad day, instead of people being like, "Oh yeah, just leave him alone, he's in a bad mood," they're like, "God, why are you being a bitch? Is it that time of the month?"
Life is basically just really really hard. Not really because of that list, though, more because I have been working literally 11 hours a day on Spanish+my thesis. What makes it bearable is that for the past three nights I have watched She's the Man every night. That movie is dope shit, and if you don't think it's hysterically funny, then you can go kick rocks.
"Bobby was the first guy working on his game, even before the coaches showed up. Bobby was making me look bad. He was not only pushing himself to get better, he was pushing us to get better."
-Brandon Roy
(awww...I heart Bobby Jones. He can come back to Seattle too, as soon as the Sonics leave and Paul Allan brings B-Roy and the Trailblazers here, and then Bobby gets traded to them.)
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