I think I finally put two and two together and have figured out why my intelligence has almost completely gone away. Once upon a time I loved physics and reading the classics? Now...I love reality television and PerezHilton.com. This became apparent during a conversation I had with a friend regarding the Alanis "My Humps" video.
me: (4:28:57 PM): http://www.calendarlive.com/printedition/calendar/cl-et-goldstein24apr24,0,3236946.story
him: (4:32:55 PM): awesome
him:(4:32:57 PM): (still reading)
me(4:35:16 PM): agreed, awesome. And I agree with the article, it gave her cred. my friend (name removed) said that she hated Alanis utnil she saw it and now she says she understands why Ryan Reynolds dated her all those years
him: (4:35:34 PM): wait, ryan reynolds?
him: (4:35:38 PM): van wilder?
me: (4:35:47 PM): yeah, they dated for like 3 years. they were engaged.
me: (4:35:58 PM): the broke up like 6 months ago.
him: (4:36:24 PM): didn't know that
me: (4:36:49 PM): yes sir. he was then rumored to be dating jessica biel but that was just a lunch between friends as she is dating justin timberlake. it's pretty much confirmed as she changed her cell phone ring to SexyBack....oh no
me: (4:37:09 PM): all this celeb knowledge? yeah it pushed useful things out of my brain such as math and how to not walk into things
him: (4:37:49 PM): lol
me: (4:38:15 PM): I remember when I used to be smart. that was fun. now those days are gone, but I can tell you what Lindsay Lohan wore yesterday
me: (4:38:30 PM): (a flannel shirt, short shirts)
him: (4:38:33 PM): ...
Me: (4:39:25 PM): I'm a winner
My brain is officially full of so much crap that it pushed anything of quality out. I have to stop reading so many gossip blogs or I will soon forget how to speak and dress myself. It's inevitable.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
Is it wrong...
That for dinner I just want ice cream? Mountains and mountains of ice cream? Preferably Ben and Jerry's Half Baked Frozen Yogurt. It's the best thing ever created by man kind. I want it and I want it NOW. Nothing else is even mildly appealing. The only thing holding me back is the fact that I would have to get in my car to go and get some. I have spent far too much time in my car as of late and the idea of getting back in, fighting traffic and then having to stand in line at my Ralphs, aka model central, with my nose that is currently one gigantic pimple, is enough to make me crack. I think after 18 hours in a car in the last 5 days I am entitled to a little endulgence. And luck. I am going to sit here and silently wish that a Ben and Jerry's truck rolls by and a few cartons fall off and into my waiting lap. It could totally happen, right?
Grief, it's what's for dinner.
Grief, it's what's for dinner.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Oy With the Poodles Already
So, the world as of late? It kind of sucks. With everything going on in Virginia and my own little life I fee like everything is turned upside down. As such I am going to try to get back to the status quo and attempt to find humor in things.
Thing #1 I find funny- Whilst driving back to California I saw a delivery truck for a Mexican bakery. The name of the company? Bimbo. I think for my birthday I will have a Bimbo Pie and the theme of the birthday shall be "classy".
Thing #2 I find funny- My mom and I went to my brother's track meet the other day and in the context of a conversation she said " you know, there is something to be said for adult diapers. I may start wearing them." I heart my mom.
And that conversation made me think of this:
It is one of the funniest pieces of his and his delivery really sells it. I think for my classy birthday party I will hand out Stadium Pals as party favors. And thus the theme is complete.
Thing #1 I find funny- Whilst driving back to California I saw a delivery truck for a Mexican bakery. The name of the company? Bimbo. I think for my birthday I will have a Bimbo Pie and the theme of the birthday shall be "classy".
Thing #2 I find funny- My mom and I went to my brother's track meet the other day and in the context of a conversation she said " you know, there is something to be said for adult diapers. I may start wearing them." I heart my mom.
And that conversation made me think of this:
It is one of the funniest pieces of his and his delivery really sells it. I think for my classy birthday party I will hand out Stadium Pals as party favors. And thus the theme is complete.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
...
My grandma died today. The world seems a lot less bright.
We all knew she was sick, advanced lung cancer and heart problems. I had called on Thursday to talk to her and heard she was in the hospital. Not to worry they said, it was just mild anemia. The problem was the chemo wasn't working, the tumor had actually grown 21% in just 3 months. Friday I am at work, all is well, and then a number with my home area code flashes on my cell phone. I knew. I chickened out and didn't answer. I checked my voice mail and it was her daughter, saying that grandma is not doing well, her kidneys are failing and she has internal bleeding. They don't think she'll make it through the weekend. I ran home and packed a bag. Packing a bag while crying and panicked is not wise. I ended up with 12 tee shirts, a single pair of jeans, one pair of socks and just flip flops.
I made the plane on time and literally got the last seat. Delayed for an hour I still made it and rushed to the hospital. I walked in and kissed her. Her son said Meghan's here and she opened her eyes and said Meghan. That's the last word I ever heard her speak. She fell back asleep and we all stood around for hours, holding her hands, telling stories and trying to laugh. Laughs turned to tears turned to just watching her sleep. I know if she had been able to she would have swatted us away, saying not to watch her sleep it made her uncomfortable. Instead she just breathed and I combed her hair. Willing her to get better and praying that she would.
Today, all day, I was deluded. I thought, they don't know her. She's so strong. They told me just last month she had at least a year. I need that year. I am not ready yet. Therefore, she can't die. She's not allowed. I went to the hospital this afternoon and her kids were surrounding her. We held her hands and listened to her chest rattle with each breath. After an hour, I knew she was close so I left. I knew that her kids needed that time alone. A few minutes after I got home I got the call she was gone. Even though I have mourned her for the past 24 hours, hell for the past 4 months since diagnosis, it hit me hard. I am angry and sad and I don't know how I am supposed to go on without my constant confident. She's the person I call first for everything, bad, good and in between. She's guided me my whole life and I feel so lost. I thought writing it out would help but it's not. I want to drink and scream and run until I just collapse. I just want her back.
She's not my 'real' grandma. She starting babysitting me when I was 3 months old and as her other, blood, granddaughter was there I grew up knowing her name as grandma. Although I love my mom beyond measure, my grandma was everything she wasn't. My mom is reserved whereas grandma never held back. She taught me how to paint, how to write and tell stories and how to be strong. She taught me to never settle and that knowledge wasn't just power it was a blessing. She taught me how to read and she taught me about death. After my dad passed I wasn't allowed to go to his funeral being deemed too young. I thought death was a business trip. I had just turned five. I remember sitting on her lap while she read me the book 'Why Did Grandpa Have to Die?' She stroked my hair and explained it. She held me while I cried, understanding finally, and sung to me. She held on to me until I fell asleep hours later, singing and stroking my hair the entire time. She helped me write a story about it and still has it, tucked inside a book, coloring paper frail with age. She was a professional astrologist and taught me about the stars. When I would tell stories and become animated she would laugh her deep rich laugh and say I was such a gemini. She taught me that in life, you just have to roll with the punches and dust yourself off.
She taught me all that and yet now, I don't know if I can. I remember thinking about a year ago, 'I don't know what I'll do if I ever lose her'. She's the only person in the entire world I have truly felt unconditional love from. And right now, I feel unanchored, unhinged, and truly alone.
I just want her back.
We all knew she was sick, advanced lung cancer and heart problems. I had called on Thursday to talk to her and heard she was in the hospital. Not to worry they said, it was just mild anemia. The problem was the chemo wasn't working, the tumor had actually grown 21% in just 3 months. Friday I am at work, all is well, and then a number with my home area code flashes on my cell phone. I knew. I chickened out and didn't answer. I checked my voice mail and it was her daughter, saying that grandma is not doing well, her kidneys are failing and she has internal bleeding. They don't think she'll make it through the weekend. I ran home and packed a bag. Packing a bag while crying and panicked is not wise. I ended up with 12 tee shirts, a single pair of jeans, one pair of socks and just flip flops.
I made the plane on time and literally got the last seat. Delayed for an hour I still made it and rushed to the hospital. I walked in and kissed her. Her son said Meghan's here and she opened her eyes and said Meghan. That's the last word I ever heard her speak. She fell back asleep and we all stood around for hours, holding her hands, telling stories and trying to laugh. Laughs turned to tears turned to just watching her sleep. I know if she had been able to she would have swatted us away, saying not to watch her sleep it made her uncomfortable. Instead she just breathed and I combed her hair. Willing her to get better and praying that she would.
Today, all day, I was deluded. I thought, they don't know her. She's so strong. They told me just last month she had at least a year. I need that year. I am not ready yet. Therefore, she can't die. She's not allowed. I went to the hospital this afternoon and her kids were surrounding her. We held her hands and listened to her chest rattle with each breath. After an hour, I knew she was close so I left. I knew that her kids needed that time alone. A few minutes after I got home I got the call she was gone. Even though I have mourned her for the past 24 hours, hell for the past 4 months since diagnosis, it hit me hard. I am angry and sad and I don't know how I am supposed to go on without my constant confident. She's the person I call first for everything, bad, good and in between. She's guided me my whole life and I feel so lost. I thought writing it out would help but it's not. I want to drink and scream and run until I just collapse. I just want her back.
She's not my 'real' grandma. She starting babysitting me when I was 3 months old and as her other, blood, granddaughter was there I grew up knowing her name as grandma. Although I love my mom beyond measure, my grandma was everything she wasn't. My mom is reserved whereas grandma never held back. She taught me how to paint, how to write and tell stories and how to be strong. She taught me to never settle and that knowledge wasn't just power it was a blessing. She taught me how to read and she taught me about death. After my dad passed I wasn't allowed to go to his funeral being deemed too young. I thought death was a business trip. I had just turned five. I remember sitting on her lap while she read me the book 'Why Did Grandpa Have to Die?' She stroked my hair and explained it. She held me while I cried, understanding finally, and sung to me. She held on to me until I fell asleep hours later, singing and stroking my hair the entire time. She helped me write a story about it and still has it, tucked inside a book, coloring paper frail with age. She was a professional astrologist and taught me about the stars. When I would tell stories and become animated she would laugh her deep rich laugh and say I was such a gemini. She taught me that in life, you just have to roll with the punches and dust yourself off.
She taught me all that and yet now, I don't know if I can. I remember thinking about a year ago, 'I don't know what I'll do if I ever lose her'. She's the only person in the entire world I have truly felt unconditional love from. And right now, I feel unanchored, unhinged, and truly alone.
I just want her back.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Here in Lies the Rub
Previously I would update every day. This is due to the fact that there was not a written rule against doing so at the places I worked. When work was slow and/or I just didn't feel like doing it, I would sign into Blogger. At the new, slightly more corporate company, there are many rules against it. They have many rules about many different things. I have to even dress up! It's not the first time it was "required" but it's the first time it's actually been enforced. At my previous jobs as long as I was wearing clothes it was A OK. This place? I have to wear suits and only on Fridays can wear jeans. This was fun at first, novel even. It felt like playing dress up. Four months in I want my damn jeans back. It's a 26 year old habit and it's hard to break. But I am doing it, putting away my casual clothes and shopping at adult stores for slacks and sigh, button downs. Growing up sucks.
Oh and for anon, yes it's possible to have allergies in California. I know this because I have allergies in California. They are signifcantly better here than back in NY, but still chock full of sneezing and itchy eyes. It's super fun.
Excuse me for the oh so short post but A) it's Sunday and B) I had a party last night and apparently as I am getting older by the second I no longer tolerate wine well. I stopped drinking early and had lots of bread and water, but today I am in serious pain. Such pain that I have laid on the couch all day bemoaning my state, swearing off food and watching an America's Top Model marathon on VH1. I'm a winner.
Oh and for anon, yes it's possible to have allergies in California. I know this because I have allergies in California. They are signifcantly better here than back in NY, but still chock full of sneezing and itchy eyes. It's super fun.
Excuse me for the oh so short post but A) it's Sunday and B) I had a party last night and apparently as I am getting older by the second I no longer tolerate wine well. I stopped drinking early and had lots of bread and water, but today I am in serious pain. Such pain that I have laid on the couch all day bemoaning my state, swearing off food and watching an America's Top Model marathon on VH1. I'm a winner.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Total Chicken
I believe by now we have previously established that I am the world's biggest chicken shit. Seriously, if they were to measure it somehow scientifically I would measure off the charts. Why do I bring this up now? Because presently there are a lot of horror movies and they insist, INSIST, that the previews are shown at 11PM during my favorite sit com reruns. Why? Dear God, why? Is this solely to taunt in my chickendome? Is it to give me nightmares that Hilary Swank is going to come exorcise some biblical demon out of my apartment along side hills that somehow have eyes? Because that's what happens. When and if I am able to fall asleep it invades my dreams. And not in a normal way.
Case in point, 1997. I decided that I should, for some unknown reason, read the Exorcist. If you have seen the movie, imagine the same thing yet some how even more scary. I finished the book in 2 days the last night staying up until 4 AM to finish it. When I was done my heart was racing, my brow damp with sweat, and the knowledge that I was somehow going to be possessed by the devil. The logical thing was to take my mind off the fear. So I put in the most inocuous movie I owned, Saturday Night Fever. Inocuous except in my twisted little brain. Shortly after John Travolta's friend fell off the bridge I drifted off to sleep. It was there that the book combined with film to create a highly disturbing dream: that I was possessed by the spirit of John Travolta. All I remember was that I was forced to do the hustle for hours on end while wearing a white suit and woke up doing the point. It was at that point I stopped reading scary books.
This story truly dates back to my childhood. My grandma was something of a liberal caregiver. As such she let me watch The Exorist when I was 5. I think I stayed up for a week thereafter, I was the only kid in kindergarten with circles under her eyes. Not a pretty site. Her name was Reagan my name is Meghan, in my childhood brain it seemed logical that I was next.
And now that damn Hilary Swank commercial is on again. I am never falling asleep.
Case in point, 1997. I decided that I should, for some unknown reason, read the Exorcist. If you have seen the movie, imagine the same thing yet some how even more scary. I finished the book in 2 days the last night staying up until 4 AM to finish it. When I was done my heart was racing, my brow damp with sweat, and the knowledge that I was somehow going to be possessed by the devil. The logical thing was to take my mind off the fear. So I put in the most inocuous movie I owned, Saturday Night Fever. Inocuous except in my twisted little brain. Shortly after John Travolta's friend fell off the bridge I drifted off to sleep. It was there that the book combined with film to create a highly disturbing dream: that I was possessed by the spirit of John Travolta. All I remember was that I was forced to do the hustle for hours on end while wearing a white suit and woke up doing the point. It was at that point I stopped reading scary books.
This story truly dates back to my childhood. My grandma was something of a liberal caregiver. As such she let me watch The Exorist when I was 5. I think I stayed up for a week thereafter, I was the only kid in kindergarten with circles under her eyes. Not a pretty site. Her name was Reagan my name is Meghan, in my childhood brain it seemed logical that I was next.
And now that damn Hilary Swank commercial is on again. I am never falling asleep.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
