Academy Awards tonight. Yay for Slumdog.
Olive's family used to have a party the night of the Oscars. And Olive and I and any other of our friends that were there used to dress up in her mother's old prom dresses. Huge bows, bright satin and out of control puff. And we used to fill out our ballots very faithfully, all vying for the Starbucks coffee card or whatever else was the prize for most accurate award predictions.
Tonight my sister had her friends over to our house. They dressed up in fancy dresses and we printed out ballots for them to vote.
I feel like my time has passed. Now I just sit back and watch other people and remember when. I should be too young to feel this over.
And then I chose to read a flighty bedtime book to distract and comfort me before sleep. It promised to be about a cheating fiancee, fashion magazine editing and finding love in New York. But now, halfway through, the story has become focused on the heroine's best friend being suddenly diagnosed with AIDS, and her watching him die from afar. Absolutely perfect.
I feel very very alone.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Road Trip Food Stops
Panera
My mother accosts a cashier: "So you decided to trademark Peppadew?! How can you trademark Peppadew? It's a vegetable, it should belong to everyone."
Turns out that Peppadews are not normal vegetables (hence the capitalization). They are sweet piquante peppers only grown in the Limpopo province of South Africa and trademarked by Peppadew International. So in order for Panera to advertise their use of Peppadew flavors they are required to include the trademark sign. Who knew.
Starbucks
Never trust out of the way Starbucks. I always find that my drinks come out tasting a little burnt there. Plus they did not give me whipped cream like I asked for (hello, just because I wanted nonfat does not mean that I don't want whipped cream) and instead gave me an excess of foam. I hate foam. It makes me want to throw up. That is how I know that I would not enjoy going to the restaurant that belongs to the current "Best Chef in the World" because his specialty is flavored foam. Gag me.
Cracker Barrel
They should have one of these in every town in our fine nation. Apart from the regrettable lack of natural light (they cover all the windows...???), I had THE PERFECT breakfast. Where else can you get bacon, ham, sausage, biscuits, gravy, eggs, hash brown and sauteed apples all for less than eight dollars? Nowhere, that's where. And they also gave me grits too, but I don't do grits.
Subway
Lots of pickles means minimum 20, not 10. Get a clue.
Olive Garden
We are doing that tonight. Birthday girl's choice. I am soooo looking forward to the salad. If I could only pick 15 things to eat for the rest of my life one of them would be Olive Garden salads. The only thing I am not looking forward too about Olive Garden tonight is the hour wait that we will inevitably have to endure because nobody in my uncle and aunt's household can make it out the door before 7:30 at night. Plus this time together will give my parents more time to question me on my life plan. Every time they start a conversation with me these days its "in ten years you should be moving on to your second career, what career will that be?" or "you need to pick what area of law you want to go into and what coast you see yourself living on in the long run." Aaaagh, I just want to be left alone and read John Grisham.
My mother has just fallen asleep at the foot of the twin bed I am currently in. Hmm.
"Cory's eyes are like a jungle,
He smiles its like the radio,"
-T-Swi, Stay Beautiful
My mother accosts a cashier: "So you decided to trademark Peppadew?! How can you trademark Peppadew? It's a vegetable, it should belong to everyone."
Turns out that Peppadews are not normal vegetables (hence the capitalization). They are sweet piquante peppers only grown in the Limpopo province of South Africa and trademarked by Peppadew International. So in order for Panera to advertise their use of Peppadew flavors they are required to include the trademark sign. Who knew.
Starbucks
Never trust out of the way Starbucks. I always find that my drinks come out tasting a little burnt there. Plus they did not give me whipped cream like I asked for (hello, just because I wanted nonfat does not mean that I don't want whipped cream) and instead gave me an excess of foam. I hate foam. It makes me want to throw up. That is how I know that I would not enjoy going to the restaurant that belongs to the current "Best Chef in the World" because his specialty is flavored foam. Gag me.
Cracker Barrel
They should have one of these in every town in our fine nation. Apart from the regrettable lack of natural light (they cover all the windows...???), I had THE PERFECT breakfast. Where else can you get bacon, ham, sausage, biscuits, gravy, eggs, hash brown and sauteed apples all for less than eight dollars? Nowhere, that's where. And they also gave me grits too, but I don't do grits.
Subway
Lots of pickles means minimum 20, not 10. Get a clue.
Olive Garden
We are doing that tonight. Birthday girl's choice. I am soooo looking forward to the salad. If I could only pick 15 things to eat for the rest of my life one of them would be Olive Garden salads. The only thing I am not looking forward too about Olive Garden tonight is the hour wait that we will inevitably have to endure because nobody in my uncle and aunt's household can make it out the door before 7:30 at night. Plus this time together will give my parents more time to question me on my life plan. Every time they start a conversation with me these days its "in ten years you should be moving on to your second career, what career will that be?" or "you need to pick what area of law you want to go into and what coast you see yourself living on in the long run." Aaaagh, I just want to be left alone and read John Grisham.
My mother has just fallen asleep at the foot of the twin bed I am currently in. Hmm.
"Cory's eyes are like a jungle,
He smiles its like the radio,"
-T-Swi, Stay Beautiful
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Class is...
Not using your last possession of the game to dunk on the opposing team that you are already beating by 9 points.
Not insinuating that the opposing team is "dirty".
Referees who actually call fouls especially when they are egregious and game-changing.
Student sections with witty cheers and not "Gary Coleman" taunts that were scammed off the Oregon student section's abuse of Nate Robinson almost three years ago. Seriously. Get some newer, classier material.
Bands that don't wear Hawaiian shirts for their uniforms.
Not UCLA.
Not insinuating that the opposing team is "dirty".
Referees who actually call fouls especially when they are egregious and game-changing.
Student sections with witty cheers and not "Gary Coleman" taunts that were scammed off the Oregon student section's abuse of Nate Robinson almost three years ago. Seriously. Get some newer, classier material.
Bands that don't wear Hawaiian shirts for their uniforms.
Not UCLA.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
I take it back.
So. I didn't mean to go off about Josh specifically.
I meant that I just like to say "I feel" and I don't want to be bugged about it.
Either he read my last two posts and is angry at me, or he is just mean and angry in general because I just woke up to a "let's have no more contact...leave me alone!" facebook message.
There are no words.
I meant that I just like to say "I feel" and I don't want to be bugged about it.
Either he read my last two posts and is angry at me, or he is just mean and angry in general because I just woke up to a "let's have no more contact...leave me alone!" facebook message.
There are no words.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
And one more thing...
Josh always said that I say "I feel" too much. We even had an intense fight about it once. That was the same fight where he told me that I shouldn't talk about politics in his country since I didn't grow up there.
I understand that there is something to be said for not prefacing opinion statements with "I feel" just to make them more palatable. I am often guilty of that. But I also preface a lot of what I say with "I feel" because *gasp* I actually feel a lot of things. I think a lot of things too, but when you have stumbled onto a conclusion by instinct instead of a logical thought process or when you say something because of an emotional urge rather than mental stimulation that's called feeling. Webster's that shit.
And if that's just too much to handle, then I'm too much to handle, and you should date a freaking computer. Additional bonus: computers don't talk politics.
"I suffer from rage black-outs."
-Summer, The O.C.
I understand that there is something to be said for not prefacing opinion statements with "I feel" just to make them more palatable. I am often guilty of that. But I also preface a lot of what I say with "I feel" because *gasp* I actually feel a lot of things. I think a lot of things too, but when you have stumbled onto a conclusion by instinct instead of a logical thought process or when you say something because of an emotional urge rather than mental stimulation that's called feeling. Webster's that shit.
And if that's just too much to handle, then I'm too much to handle, and you should date a freaking computer. Additional bonus: computers don't talk politics.
"I suffer from rage black-outs."
-Summer, The O.C.
Lost
I am feeling kind of fed up with the speed of life. It seems like no matter where I am I am both rushed and left behind at the same time. I know that some people find my level of inexperience or rather lack of experiences as cute or innocent and lots of times I don't want to let on about it because I'm scared of people judging me or calling me naive. But there's also another part of me...a big part, actually, that wishes I was somewhat less experienced.
The problem is that I care too much about what other people think or what point that I should be at in my life and then I don't stop and pay attention to what I think and what point I am actually at. And what I think is that as much as I like boys and boyfriends and intimacy and as much as I like moving quickly because I'm impatient like no other, what I need is things to slow waaay down. In reality I am a little girl. I never want people to think I am which is why I will try not to act like it....even to the point where Josh was disappointed/intimidated by my nonchalantness and other people just didn't realize how "young" I was. And that led to me letting big things just whiz past. And its not that I couldn't handle those big things or that it negatively affected me in any way, its just that in retrospect maybe it would have been better to just not do certain things in those specific situations.
I feel like I lost myself a little bit in all the rush.
I also feel like all the people who I have done anything at all with have never been people that really knew me. Which is kind of sickening.
That being said, there is still that other category of fields where I am "left behind" and sorely lacking. And those are the bits that will lead to my inevitable embarrassment. God help me.
Crimson and clover, baby. Crimson and clover.
The problem is that I care too much about what other people think or what point that I should be at in my life and then I don't stop and pay attention to what I think and what point I am actually at. And what I think is that as much as I like boys and boyfriends and intimacy and as much as I like moving quickly because I'm impatient like no other, what I need is things to slow waaay down. In reality I am a little girl. I never want people to think I am which is why I will try not to act like it....even to the point where Josh was disappointed/intimidated by my nonchalantness and other people just didn't realize how "young" I was. And that led to me letting big things just whiz past. And its not that I couldn't handle those big things or that it negatively affected me in any way, its just that in retrospect maybe it would have been better to just not do certain things in those specific situations.
I feel like I lost myself a little bit in all the rush.
I also feel like all the people who I have done anything at all with have never been people that really knew me. Which is kind of sickening.
That being said, there is still that other category of fields where I am "left behind" and sorely lacking. And those are the bits that will lead to my inevitable embarrassment. God help me.
Crimson and clover, baby. Crimson and clover.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
He's Just Not That Into You
A candy-coated comedy that EVERYBODY should see. The Gigi girl and the Mac-guy guy were hilarious and perfect.
BUT I think one important thing to remember is that the rules from the movie often only apply to "mature" guys/girls. Maybe later 20's/30's at least. Because (and I'm not telling one of those feel-better stories like in the movie) I know many people who have failed to get what they want not because they can't realize that some guy is just not that into them, but because they fail to realize that some guy might be into them but is waiting for some sign of encouragement before putting himself out there. And so while many girls are sitting there acting coy and popular, they are actually discouraging and excluding the interested guy who they likely like back.
Goal: Meet sharp bartender who can give me advice at all hours.
New Obsession: Tay-Sway. Aka, Taylor Swift. I have never downloaded an album off of iTunes. Partially because I used to be able to steal/burn all my music and partially because I am too cheap to throw down ten bucks instead of cherry-picking songs. But tonight Bei-zing and I went all out for Taylor. Who knew that ballsy lyrics, twangy pop and a little Jo-Bro hatred could be such an appealing combination?
Oh, and Ella dear...I guess he's just not that into you. Screw him. I only supported him because you liked him. I support Cruise waaay more. Sweatsuits=retro-suave cute. Go for it.
"State the obvious, I didn't get my perfect fantasy
I realize you love yourself more than you could ever love me
So go and tell your friends that I'm obsessive and crazy
That's fine you won't mind if I say
And by the way...
I hate that stupid old pickup truck
You never let me drive
You're a redneck heartbreak
Who's really bad at lying
So watch me strike a match
On all my wasted time
As far as I'm concerned you're
Just another picture to burn..."
-Picture to Burn, by my new favorite 19 year old. I still think 19 first when anyone asks me my age and then I have to catch myself and say 21. I don't why I feel so perpetually that age. It's a new complex for me to analyze.
BUT I think one important thing to remember is that the rules from the movie often only apply to "mature" guys/girls. Maybe later 20's/30's at least. Because (and I'm not telling one of those feel-better stories like in the movie) I know many people who have failed to get what they want not because they can't realize that some guy is just not that into them, but because they fail to realize that some guy might be into them but is waiting for some sign of encouragement before putting himself out there. And so while many girls are sitting there acting coy and popular, they are actually discouraging and excluding the interested guy who they likely like back.
Goal: Meet sharp bartender who can give me advice at all hours.
New Obsession: Tay-Sway. Aka, Taylor Swift. I have never downloaded an album off of iTunes. Partially because I used to be able to steal/burn all my music and partially because I am too cheap to throw down ten bucks instead of cherry-picking songs. But tonight Bei-zing and I went all out for Taylor. Who knew that ballsy lyrics, twangy pop and a little Jo-Bro hatred could be such an appealing combination?
Oh, and Ella dear...I guess he's just not that into you. Screw him. I only supported him because you liked him. I support Cruise waaay more. Sweatsuits=retro-suave cute. Go for it.
"State the obvious, I didn't get my perfect fantasy
I realize you love yourself more than you could ever love me
So go and tell your friends that I'm obsessive and crazy
That's fine you won't mind if I say
And by the way...
I hate that stupid old pickup truck
You never let me drive
You're a redneck heartbreak
Who's really bad at lying
So watch me strike a match
On all my wasted time
As far as I'm concerned you're
Just another picture to burn..."
-Picture to Burn, by my new favorite 19 year old. I still think 19 first when anyone asks me my age and then I have to catch myself and say 21. I don't why I feel so perpetually that age. It's a new complex for me to analyze.
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