I was thinking about my worst nightmare tonight when I was walking the dog by the psuedo-mansions just up the hill from my house. Unlike Chloe, my worst nightmare is definitely not a zombie infiltration. She says that the day she sees a headline declaring "The Dead Walk", she will shoot herself. I will just buy some spanky pants and a thigh holster, so I can run around on a killing spree ala Mila Jovavich. Although I was the one who freaked out and started crying last Halloween when a hundred or so zombies came into the QFC on their annual Zombie Walk, I maintain that had I been wearing spanky pants and toting a bazooka I would have been just fine. In any case, my worst nightmare would be the apocalypse. The biblical one, not the movie. This is because, even if you die by zombies or other horrific things, you still have hope of heaven or whatever afterlife you happen to believe in. If you're left behind in the apocalypse, maybe your chances of heaven are gone, in addition to the fact that a portion of your friends and family have disappeared forever.
Speaking of zombies, I have discovered that tragically, there is no Halloween in South Africa. Not even one night, much less four, which is what I became accustomed to in college. I may or may not have mentioned this before, but mi hermana and I have charged ourselves with bringing at least one night of the holiday to el pais de Mandela. We're throwing a birthday slash Halloween party as soon as we get there (my sister's birthday is on Nov. 2nd)...costumes mandatory, of course. We already have a fabulous theme for the costumes for the four of us worked out. We will be different characters, each themed around an object....an apple. My sis and I will be Snow White and Eve (we haven't worked out which for each of us yet), my dad will be Steve Jobs or an iPod or apple computer, and my mom will be Aphrodite (whose symbol is the apple). I'm hoping that I can convince my grandfather to be Isaac Newton. We will each carry a shiny red apple too. It's perfect and I am quite pleased with our ingenuity.
"Hey Chief, come on over here. Do you see this candy?...Look closely one wrapper is already opened and the other has no candy in it. Don't be so distracted, you have to focus, man! I will let this go this time, but next time I come here, you really must be more on top of things."
5 minutes later: "And why do you not want to bring us milk for our tea??"
-my South African uncle to the waiter
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Grey's Anatomy blah blah blah
I love Grey's Anatomy. A lot of shows make me feel bad about my life because the shows are so picture perfect that I feel unfulfilled when I turn off the tv. But everyone in Grey's Anatomy is dark and twisty, so when good things happen to them, it gives me hope instead of giving me something to live up to.
And Izzy is exactly me, which I like because I feel like if good things happen to her, they can happen to me probably eventually. I am not blond and gorgeous, of course. But I am so exactly like her that it is funny. Even Chloe saw it.
I realized my main problem regarding boys. When I like someone, it isn't an afterthought it is a biiig deal, and it almost consumes me. That's not what I try to do, it's just what happens. It's more exciting I think than when most people get a crush on someone, but it's also more dramatic in a bad way. And then when I look at whoever I like I can't see anything but the good about them. If they're not that cute, I don't notice. If they are too emo, I call them in touch with their feelings. And if they make me sad too often, I get mad at them, but I blame myself. And then, once I have spent a lot a lot of time with them, I start seeing the flaws that I overlooked before and it shocks me and I wonder who the hell they are, because what I see now is not what I signed up for. In retrospect all the guys I've liked slash gone out with have been really amazing guys. I still heart them in the yearbook sense and respect them. A lot of them do not mesh well with me, but it was my fault for putting them on a pedestal and then starting to hate them.
The only boy that I have never had that sort of crash and burn reality check with is someone who I don't even know if I liked like that. He's a friend and I think that I love him (in the sense that I love all my friends, not luvvy duvvy sense) so much that I get confused and think that if I care that much about a boy, I must want him like that. Anyway, it's a very Izzy conundrum that doesn't matter because I left Sea-town. But with this kid, I know him pretty well, and I don't see the bright and shiny him. I see the regular him, who I sometimes don't agree with, who isn't really hot, who is sometimes awkward. But I'm okay with all that and a lot of those things I appreciate about him. I wonder if I had stayed longer, if I ever really would have had feelings for him.
In any case, he's pretty ace and I hope we stay friends for a long time.
Mi padre got back from the motherland today. And given what he told me, I think there is hope that the family drama is over. Of course, now everyone is grown up, so I guess it's pretty much too late for anyone to really benefit from it. C'est la vie.
"I hoarded four Ceres juiceboxes from the flight attendents by hiding them in the lunch box they gave me and now they are in the fridge."
-my deviant father
And Izzy is exactly me, which I like because I feel like if good things happen to her, they can happen to me probably eventually. I am not blond and gorgeous, of course. But I am so exactly like her that it is funny. Even Chloe saw it.
I realized my main problem regarding boys. When I like someone, it isn't an afterthought it is a biiig deal, and it almost consumes me. That's not what I try to do, it's just what happens. It's more exciting I think than when most people get a crush on someone, but it's also more dramatic in a bad way. And then when I look at whoever I like I can't see anything but the good about them. If they're not that cute, I don't notice. If they are too emo, I call them in touch with their feelings. And if they make me sad too often, I get mad at them, but I blame myself. And then, once I have spent a lot a lot of time with them, I start seeing the flaws that I overlooked before and it shocks me and I wonder who the hell they are, because what I see now is not what I signed up for. In retrospect all the guys I've liked slash gone out with have been really amazing guys. I still heart them in the yearbook sense and respect them. A lot of them do not mesh well with me, but it was my fault for putting them on a pedestal and then starting to hate them.
The only boy that I have never had that sort of crash and burn reality check with is someone who I don't even know if I liked like that. He's a friend and I think that I love him (in the sense that I love all my friends, not luvvy duvvy sense) so much that I get confused and think that if I care that much about a boy, I must want him like that. Anyway, it's a very Izzy conundrum that doesn't matter because I left Sea-town. But with this kid, I know him pretty well, and I don't see the bright and shiny him. I see the regular him, who I sometimes don't agree with, who isn't really hot, who is sometimes awkward. But I'm okay with all that and a lot of those things I appreciate about him. I wonder if I had stayed longer, if I ever really would have had feelings for him.
In any case, he's pretty ace and I hope we stay friends for a long time.
Mi padre got back from the motherland today. And given what he told me, I think there is hope that the family drama is over. Of course, now everyone is grown up, so I guess it's pretty much too late for anyone to really benefit from it. C'est la vie.
"I hoarded four Ceres juiceboxes from the flight attendents by hiding them in the lunch box they gave me and now they are in the fridge."
-my deviant father
Monday, September 24, 2007
Fuck Purgatory
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.
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.
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
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