Violently Pink

Another post for today since I have been shunning this blog for a few weeks...

My nails are the hottest hot pink ever right now. It's very Zenon. I recommend it. It gets me even better tips at work. And, no...get your mind out of the gutter, I don't work in THAT kind of service industry.

So cryptically, here's what is new (ish): I am in a situation that I want to get out of but I don't know how. Meanwhile I am being exactly the kind of person that you see in movies and think "how dumb is she?! Get over yourself and do what you need to do." That's right. I have become Cher from Clueless. I can just hear "We're the kids in America" playing in the background. Actually, I will give myself a huge break and say that I'm Emma instead. Much much better and yet still accurate.

And for my rants of the month:
Did you hear that Bush's new neighborhood didn't allow minorities to live there until 2000? He's got to be either really ignorant to not know that or really asinine to not care.

Also, does Ali Larter bug anybody else, or is it just me?


"I'd rather be horrified than bored."
-Turning Tables

All in the Family

So, one of my cousins is actually pretty big in South Africa. Tee hee. That sounds funny, doesn't it? But its more than partially true. He and his (old?) hip hop group, Entity, have a few music videos out and they got a lot of play on MTV South Africa. And the rest of their songs are good too.

I decided its about time that I started repping him. Check him out on facebook...his name is Kiernan Forbes or AKA.

Here's the link to his last video:
http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=3187207

Or at least I think its his last video. He's very secretive about all this music stuff, so I have to find it out myself through his dad or through Google.

Hair and Hypochondria

My mother is a very reasonable person, but she is also odd to the point of bordering on hilarity sometimes.

Today she took my little sister for a haircut. And not only did she drag herself out of bed in the middle of being sick to do it, she also went up and washed her hair before braving icy outdoors. Her hair wasn't dirty or messy or anything, but she maintains that if the mother doesn't have absolutely perfect hair when taking her daughter in for a haircut then the stylist might think that he or she can do a half-assed job.

Too bad the woman who cut my sister's hair did a bad job anyway and my sister came home in tears, yelling at my mom for taking her to a cheap place and not being willing to shell out enough for her hair. I can understand where my sister is coming from, having been to my share of "let's do an 80's rocker fro with your curls" psycho stylists, but I can't help but wonder how many times I yelled at my mom after she went over and above in the attempt to make everything perfect for me and my haircut or spelling test or LSAT.

I think I am having a mid early-20's crisis. I feel rather melancholy.



And, even worse, my hypochondria is getting seriously out of control. Its really not hypochondria because I don't think that I actually make myself ill. But I certainly make myself think that I am sick. And not just sick...usually I am almost positive that I have contracted a terminal illness. Doesn't take a genius to guess what event this particular psychosis originated from. I have been to two different doctors in the past two weeks, and am constantly online researching my maladies. Where is Lynn when you need her? Plus today I decided that I needed some extensive blood work and now my arm is partially blue and in pain from that phlebotomist. This is it. No more witch hunts for fatal diagnoses.




"I'm looking fine in my navy blue scrubs today. C'mon people! Who wants a taste?"
-Zach Braff

I need to leave Baltimore

I almost quit my job last night. I came the closest I've ever come to just walking out and giving everyone at that stupid restaurant an aneurysm by actually swearing at them all. Gasp! I find it so ridiculous that they all are so shocked every time they hear me say something remotely resembling a swear word. Yes, I'm not exactly the wash your mouth out type, but I'm not above cussing to make a point. And I'm certainly not the bland saint that everyone at the restaurant seems to think I am.

Whatever. The point is that my unfeeling manager made me come to work even though I was ridiculously sick. To be fair, I rallied myself to the point where I don't think the customers noticed that I was a walking sack of germs and snot. But really. Everyone there is ridiculous. I literally almost passed out when I had to carry a giant tub of pickles of from the basement. Thankfully one of the guys in the kitchen noticed me struggling and helped me on the way back down. Everyone else there can go fuck themselves though. They're high off their asses if they think that I will ever cover their shifts for them when they're sick because nobody helped me out. Except one girl...she helped with my chores a little bit. But for the most part I am generally unimpressed. It will be sweet revenge if I got everyone else at the restaurant sick.

Fuck the restaurant. And fuck the east coast.

Good Will Hunting Epiphany

I am watching Good Will Hunting for the first time right now. And I have finally found something that actually portrays how I feel. There is a scene where Will and Skyla get into a fight. She asks him to go to California with her and they start fighting. One thing leads to another and he pushes her up against a wall and punches right next to her head. She cries and takes his head in her hands and says that she just wants to be with him. That she'll leave forever if he just looks her in the eye and tells her he doesn't love her. And so he does. And he walks out.

He's being horrible. But the whole time you are sitting there watching him treat Skyla oh so horribly you are actually thinking that they should be together and you are hoping that they kiss and make up eventually. And you've seen just how bad Will can be. But you love him (platonically...as the viewer) anyway. And you know that he didn't really mean to hurt her and that he does actually love her (well, I think...I haven't gotten to the end of the movie quite yet).

When you think about it like that. Everything that I have done makes perfect sense. And most people I know would do the exact same thing. I wish people would watch that part. Just so they can understand me and not judge me.

Not that anyone I have ever met is a genius on the level of Matt Damon's character. I don't know if I would be able to handle that anyway.

Prude

Sometimes I feel lonelier at work when I am surrounded by tons and tons of people than I feel at home by myself. Because its always better to be sad because you have nobody to talk to in an empty room than to be sad that you have nobody to talk to when you are standing around with 8 other waiters.

Its not that I am an outcast at work or anything. Plenty of people talk to me and like me and everything. I just get left behind in conversations easily. I'm not a merciless flirt like some of the people at the restaurant which is one huge reason that I am always on the outskirts of the socializing. But I am also just quiet sometimes. However, the main problem is that everyone has this idea of what kind of person I am, and its just not me.

They all think that I am so innocent and naive. And I don't care what you say, being called naive is not a compliment. My friends have tried to convince me of this during many conversations with me bitching about being called naive again. But being called naive is ALWAYS bad. Little sisters are naive, not friends, and not even less-than-friends. Just because I am a nice person and a loyal girlfriend and I don't constantly talk about my escapades in bed, it doesn't mean that I am socially ignorant or unable to understand sexual innuendo.

Tonight the head waiter was talking about gay sex or something or other....he's always hitting on the college-age guy waiters so I'm sure it had to do with getting into one of their pairs of black standard-issue pants. And out of nowhere he goes "Ohhh, look at Phoebe, she can't understand anything we're talking about. You know I can never picture her ever doing anything sexual." Okay, so there is no way that I would ever want him to be picturing me doing anything remotely sexual....but still. Why does everyone think that I am such a freaking prude? I don't drop my pants constantly, but I'm not 7 years old.

The only person who keeps me sane at work is Paul. And I'm not even using a code name there. But don't worry, Ed Murray won't be able to track him down and blackmail him for my identity because Paul is not his first name.

Do you ever feel like asking someone if what they are going after is what they really want and not what they have convinced themselves that they should try for? It's not quite a broachable topic.

And of course, Barack has just been elected. I already wrote to him encouraging him to consider Corey Booker for a position within his administration and recommending that he get his daughters a Bernese Mountain dog.