Shit Happens

Saturday, January 15, 2005


Can someone please tell me how to:
1) insert links on my log (w/in text and also permanently at the side)
2) insert pictures
3)use the return function so it works- I've been using the paragraph function
that would be GREAT

Escape Artist

Last night was part 1 of "Edfest" (which is an extremely lame name, by the way) Besides Eddie in his collared shirt, my favorite part was the cheese and crackers. I know, I am the worst dieter ever. But I'm workin on it.
Even than I love Eddie more than life itself, and it was great to see so many friends, after 5 hours in he bar, it was time to go home. I didn't feel like drinking (I ate too much!) and it became really crowded, which I'm not into.
So I tried to escape. In college, I was really good at this. I could drukenly find the back door out of any frat house or house party and quietly sneak out. I even made it home every time. (that I can remember...) I hate the fanfare and excitement of good-byes, I don't want to bother anyone and frankly, I generally forget to say anything to anyone who's not immediately in front of me. So I try to quietly escape.
But when Kyle is working the door, and Josh is next to him, and I have to stop to grab my coat off the wall-it's hard to be sneaky. (trick-sy, if I may) Anyway, it was the worst sneak-out ever. And sorry to anyone I forgot to say "bye" too, it's never personal

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Faking Prayer

Today I took minutes at the Contact Ministies board meeting. (my pastor is the President) We began, and ended, with a prayer. We did the same thing at Salvation Army meetings. Luckily, no one makes me pray when I get to work, and before I leave.
I am a fake prayer. All you pious, offended christians can say "bye" to me now since you won't be seeing me in the afterlife. (no, I was not saying that ALL christians are pious and easily offended, so calm down) Someone I knew really said something like that to a friend in HS. Not to me, to a Jewish girl. "I really like so-and-so. I wish she weren't going to hell when she dies". That's ROUGH. Luckily, I don't believe in hell and think my fake praying is just good practice in case I ever decide to go into acting.
My little putting, pro-choice,-gay-rainbow-sticker sporting car did start after work yesterday. (I just wanted to give you an idea of what accompanies me to these meetings and to church every day, oh the irony) It smells like something is burning, sort of like when you add to much oil to your car and it has to burn off. Any suggestion carjessie??
They gave me more hours at work, 4 full days and Friday off. Which is a sweet deal, but I still don't have a raise or insurence. (wait, I HAVE insurence, I just have to pay $375 out of pocket every month, no joke) I'm still hoping for that state job, but this is a better hold over in the mean time.
Tonight is another gym night. This progess stuff is not happening fast enough, but unless I can somehow will myself to a flat stomache and muscle tone, I'm still going. Blek. Someone join my gym and be my work-out buddy!

Wednesday, January 12, 2005


There must be a car illness going around. I blame Jessie's for spreading it's germs, or, at least spreading a poor example.
I wake up at the reasonable hour of 11am this morning, shower for the first time since Monday, and get things together for work. I padder out to my drive way, carrying my purse (MM) and briefcase, looks remarkably like a tinkerbell shoulder bag. I used to carry a plastic shopping bag at the shelter, but I thought it might be innappropriate for the church, so I moved up to the purple cloth bag. (which luckily, hasn't offended anyone, yet)
I get into my car, ready to roll down the windows, enjoy the nice day with some wind and a smoke and IT DOESN'T START!! Does this sound familiar? Is this the story of my life?? I can't even imagine buying a brand new car that runs more than a few months at a time w/o something going wrong on it.
I didn't have time to try jumping it, dad took me to work. (who is another blog altogether) I thinkt he battery is fine because it starts, and the lights and such work, it just won't turn over, but it's worth a try.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Using My Powers For Good

I have been making song and prayer books all morning. I hate song and prayer books. I hate the copy machine that makes my office hot. I hate the binding machine that looks like a midevil torture devise. This is what I get for all the days I don't have work. *sigh*
I watched Troy last night. Eh. It was entertaining. I might have liked it more if I hadn't seen Alexander. The cinematography and dialog in Alexander deffinatly surpasses Troy's; Troy's was especially cheesy. I didn't love Alexander either. I think it was because Leto and Farrell kept "hugging", instead of getting it on.
This gym stuff is making my skin break out. I haven't really had bad skin since I was about 14. Luckily, I still have dermotolist perscriptions (that my regular docter can now fill) on stand-by. The anti-bodics I can take help, but they mess up my body, so I take them as a last resort. But I did get this really good peroxide stuff that killes everything, and bleaches all my clothes. Anyway, if you see me cacked in make-up, that's the likely reason.
"Jon Doe" and I apologized for our spat yesterday. Actually, I felt really guilty for sort of hitting below the belt and called, twice, to apologize. And I forget that most people consider their alma matter worth defending and need to make sure I really mean exactly what I say, and know what i am talking about.
I have a hard time dealing with dissapointment. Pretty much any kind. So when a friend says something that hurts my feelings, seemingly for no reason, I think I try to hurt them back in an attempt to make them realise how much they hurt me. A bad coping stadegy, I know. I'm working on it. Somehow, I always know what to say that is going to get to people. It's not contious; I just do. I want to figure it out so I can use it in reverse and be able to tell people exactly what they want to hear or what will make them happy, instead of this "talent" only coming out when I'm angry or upset.

Monday, January 10, 2005

"I Had Tell Her MIne"

Not only do I incessantly update my blog at work, I also read. A lot. Today it's the January issue of Poetry Magazine. This one might be my favorite so far, it's by Chase Twichell.
I know I promised to stop

talking about her,

but I was talking to myself.

The truth is, she's a child

who stopped growing,
so I've always allowed her

to tag along, and when she brings

her melancholy close to me

I comfort her. Naturally

you're curious; you want to know

how she became a gnarled branch

veiled in diminutive blooms.

But I've told you all I know.

I was sure she had secrets,

but she had no secrets.

I had to tell her mine.
I could probably do without the "gnarled branch blooms" too. But I love the idea of the woman not having her own secrets. The author is female, which I didn't originally realize, and I assumed the speaker was male, speaking of a lover. Since the author is female, I assume it's about herself, in my favorite "confessional" style. (which is probably technically suppose to be in first person to be "true" confessional poetry, but I'll settle for this:)

Names Have Been Changed in an Attempt to Avoid Further Pissing off the Already Very Angry

Jon Doe: don't pick any more fights with me, it won't be tolerated
Jon Doe: and yes, I had an minor in creative writing
Marilyn Drew: don't be a damn asshole for no reason to me, "it won't be tolerated"
Jon Doe: *a minor
Jon Doe: like that, we can't have that
Marilyn Drew: i also had a *minor in creative writing and you can talk all the shit you want about BU's writing program, it won't bother me
Marilyn Drew: i'm not personally responsiable for my college's writing program, the same as you're not responaible for yours
Marilyn Drew: you can get over yourself and your insecurities
Marilyn Drew: its maybe your worst quality
Jon Doe: you're being a raging bitch
Jon Doe: I'm not insecure about anything
Jon Doe: I just don't like someone undermining my degree
Marilyn Drew: i'm occationally a raging bitch
Jon Doe: you're picking fights for no reason
Marilyn Drew: you are often an inconsiderate asshole
Jon Doe: example?
Marilyn Drew: if you would have just explained that that was the problem in the beginning, i would have apologized and dropped it--instead you chose to purposely hurt my feelings which turned on the raging bitch that apraently lives inside of me
Marilyn Drew: and everyone is insecure about something, it's just bullshit to say you're not
Jon Doe signed off at 1:24:24 PM.
Yes, I somehow managed to get into an argument with a friend over the value of our writing degrees. I'm generally not an argumentive person; I just don't find a purpose in it or get off on fighting. But I guess I said something to him, which insulted his school pride or something, but I didn't realise it, so he said something about how I wouldn't be able to get into the graduate writing program I want. I didn't ask if he thought I could get in, and frankly, if he doesn't think I'm talented enough for the program, I would rather he kept it to himself.
So he hurt my feelings and then I hurt his feelings back and now we're not talking. I think. I'm over it, but I think he is a stay-mad person.

Turtle Free

Unlike some blogs that we are all familiar with, I provide what is promised.
I say "turtle free" and poof!, no turtles in my blog. (except to mention the fact that my post lacks any actual turtles, real or imagined) If I promise "sex" and "violence", you can bet there will be "sex and violence". If I mentioned how I knew lots of "Secrets", then would be spilling some juicy secrets.
I can be depended upon, at least to be straight-forward and minimally misleading. If blogs were businesses, I would get a Better Business Beauru seal of approval; you would not. I could be fined weekly by some obscure censorship agency, but luckily, I am completely broke and there is no real danger of me paying anything anytime soon.
That said, I woke up in what I believe to be cat puke. You don't label posts "cat puke" because you turn off potential readers. I bet if you knew this was really about cat puke, you wouldn't be reading this right now. Trick-sy me.
My cat is old; He is 12. He is really mad at me because he has brown eye goo living in his left eye in which I have been placing drops in. Even though he gets a treat afterwards, he is uncooperative in the eye dropping process. He has all of his claws and is not so old that he has forgotten how to use them. The whole situation is unfortunate and often makes us angry at one other.
To get back at me, Princess puked while I was sleeping. Standing alone, that's gross enough. But he must have been exceptionally mad, because he decided to chuck his puke on my bed, LESS THAN A FOOT FROM MY HEAD!! I woke up at 9am this morning with my hand in cat puke.
Now my sheets are washing and I am plotting ways to get back at my scheming cat. He won round one, but I'm considering doubling up his eye drop dosage. Then he'll know who's boss. Or, forcefully pushing him off the furnature when he comes to sit next to me, like my mom does to him. (she only has room in her cold, cold heart for the smelly dog) Maybe I will make him sleep by himself for a week. The possibilities are endless and I have a double washing cycle of an entireset of bed of sheets to think about it.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

A Quickie

I'm hungover. I am not a rockstar. If I was a rockstar I would be kicked out of the exclusive rockstar club because I can't party like a rockstar and function as a person.
Unlike everyone else, I have no secrets. Secrets don't get me off in the way they seem to everyone else. Secrets don't make friends. Friends don't tell secrets. I'll keep you updated if I hear any though ;)
I started to read Oscar Wilde's The Portrait of Dorian Grey. I've wanted to read it for a while and Jess gave it to me to borrow before she left town. Wilde always has good quotes and all of them seem to be from Grey. The books made me feel stupid. I don't think it's an especially "smart" book, but Wilde is this closet philosopher that I was previously unaware of. And he makes very valid, and generally interesting points through satirizing high society.
Plato, who is much drier, is also easier to follow and a quicker read. I can read Plato, but not Oscar Wilde. Something is wrong here. I am going to consult Jess, whom everyone knows is a very un-closet genius and see what she has to say on the topic. Since she has read everything and seems to know everything. I think everyone needs a friend like that. IN case they get on Millionaire, if nothing else.