Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Pic of the Day

Monday, April 27, 2009

Marlboro Lights: A Love Story

I “quit” smoking a while ago. God. I must admit, I miss it. I miss it like one would miss a limb that was amputated. I loved/love smoking. The escape of it all. The fullness of the first inhale. I miss it every day. Like most addictions, smoking is very social. I miss the social camaraderie of fellow smokers. The little breaks smokers get throughout the day that a non smoker is missing. For five minutes I am free from all I have to do.
I remember when someone or something pissed me off the first thing I would do was rustle through my over sized purse for a cigarette. So many times when I smoked by myself I would just be so lost in thought. Smoking could be a very peaceful time. The regulated inhale of warm fuzzy smoke, the long and slow exhale. Smoking was very peaceful. Very therapeutic.
I struggle most days with smoking. Not so much when I’m at home but its when I’m out and about living life that I miss my old companion. Armed with my little white and gold box of Marlboro lights I felt a little less unprepared for what perils may be in store for me in life. I felt more equipped, like I could handle anything. They were always there to distract me in awkward moments.
Of course there are things I don’t miss. I didn’t like that my hair and clothes were always cigarette scented. Or that my mouth tasted like a rotten ass ashtray most of the time. It was an expensive habit and the feeling of not having something you desperately think you need is a very uncomfortable feeling when your money runs out. I always hated the mental count I always had at all times of how many cigarettes I had on me and when I would need to make a stop to get more. The dependence killed me. That and cancer and my boyfriend’s constant harassment. “You stink like cigarettes! That’s sooo unattractive!”
The main reason I stopped smoking regularly was because I didn’t want the wrinkles. I am obsessed with preserving my youth and the sight of a leather faced smoker would stir such terror in my heart. So for the vainest reason I quit smoking- not because it could shorten my life or the lives of people around me no. wrinkles.
Yes I wrestle urges daily, yes I consider buying a pack every time I pass a Walgreen’s, every time I am making a purchase at a corner store or gas station. There behind their streaked glass cases they wait for me. I allow myself to smoke when I’m drinking. Lets just hope this rule doesn’t turn me into an alcoholic.

much love,

Pic of the Day

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Live Music Tonight!

I can't stand hardcore music. I just don't see how people can like it, it's extremely loud, the singer isn't a singer he/she is a screamer (and I know it's supposed to sound like that and there is a method to this "screaming" but it still sounds fucking terrible), the music itself is drowned by the loudness of the speakers and even if there were some type of cadence to it, it's incoherent. I mean the show last night was fun because I love just being out with friends, drinking, laughing and having a good time but that music was like a wet blanket on the night. It seemed even people who claimed they liked hardcore music were outside just as much me socializing and taking in the sound of the muffled music inside. I tried to really listen and like it but I just couldn't. Also it doesn't really help that the people who attend these shows aren't exactly the warmest folks. I think for the most part I attract irritating/boorish behavior from people with holes in their faces mainly because I look wholesome and they think they can get a rise out of me by flashing their fake fangs in my direction. It was an interesting night and I'm glad I went. I used to attend these types of shows when I was an teenager and hated them then but I don't think I gave the music a real chance then because I was so concerned about other teenage issues like boys and girls and my stupid insecurities. Over all I have a feeling this won't be my last hardcore show even though I have a distaste for them.

Friday, April 24, 2009

"I Do(n't)"

Ive never given the idea of marriage much thought. That is until this year. These last few years most of my friends have gotten married. Everywhere I turned some wild eyed woman was flashing an engagement ring in my face. Last summer I almost went broke with all of the weddings I attended.
I started becoming a little threatened by all of the blushing brides in my presence. It made me question my relationship. Should I be thinking seriously about this? Should I be dreaming of white satin and french lace? I started watching alot of wedding shows. What started out as curious Internet searches of wedding gowns turned into a feverish obsession with planning my non existent wedding. Mermaid cuts and sweetheart necklines, color coordination , and cake flavors. I was out of control. I hinted to my boyfriend coyly at first and then turned to nagging."When are WE going to get marrrrrrriiiied????????????" After I had totally planned my fairy tale wedding in my mind and on bookmarked Internet page after Internet page, I finally came to the realization that I really don't care to get married at this point in my life. I'm just not ready. Its not that I think I have any wild oats to sew. (Believe me my oats have been sewn and matured and died already.) Its just that I don't feel the need to participate in what I feel is an outdated and unnecessary ritual. It is one thing to live with my boyfriend of many years but Ive learned over too many awkward holiday dinners that is quite another case to have no intention of wedding. Family and friends often become defensive and frustrated when you rob them of their hope to cry at your wedding someday. I really hate those moments. When everyone is sitting down to thanksgiving dinner and all the attention turns to me and my boyfriend. We exchange uncomfortable glances, shift in out seats, push food around our plates and mumble vague answers to appease the prying crowd. When it comes down to it, I'm happy with where I am at and hey if its not broken don't fix it.

much love,

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

15 reasons to hate Bono

What is the difference between God and Bono?
God doesn't think he's Bono. hahahahahaahaha

1.He wears sunglasses that a Euro trash hooker on vacation in Miami wouldn't wear as a corpse in a ditch. Its just a sad attempt to hide his lizard eyes

2.Don't ever bitch about global poverty if you are a multi millionaire. He has all of these charities yet doesn't put ANY of his own money into them. He has in own IPOD and doesn't donate any of the spoils to anything other than his yellow tinted sunglasses fund.

3. The fact that a twat like him was nominated for the Nobel peace prize makes me want to vomit.

4.Don;t mix music and politics. It feels like I'm paying money to be whined at.

5. I'm so sick of seeing that under bite every time I turn on the news.

6.He tried to sue his old hairdresser for a hat that he gave her. She tried to sell it on eBay after going through financial troubles. That pompous ass

7. U2 made $389m from the recent Vertigo tour. Its revenue was then funnelled through companies mostly registered in Ireland and structured to minimize taxes. He is a tax dodger despite being a millionaire

8. He is the lead singer of the band "you too" who hasn't made any decent music since the 80s but mysteriously maintains a cult like following. He must take off his glasses during concerts and hypnotize fans with his lizard eyes.

9. His lyrics are pretentious pseudo intellectual drivel, meaningless in the extreme. An his improvised poetry is embarrassing.

10. His so called charity work is constantly exposed by African aid organisations as detrimental to the situation in Africa, but his twatty fans go on about it, claiming that anyone who hates him is against the concept of charity.

11.Every time somebody most of us admire dies, Bono turns up on a documentary, claiming that their music directly influenced U2 (Joy Division, you wish, The Clash? Please)

12.His band has a huge carbon foot print, beaten by only Sting, another so called environmentalist (hypocrite)

13.According to Thom Yorke (Radiohead), whenever they met world leaders together for Make Poverty History, while Thom Yorke was talking about reform, Bono just acted like a buffoon, and posed for photos (such as making the frail John Paul II wear his stupid Fly sunglasses, making the actual negotiations next to impossible.

14. He wears leather pants despite being middle aged.

15. He nicknamed himself "Bono vox" which means "good voice" in Latin .

In conclusion Bono is a pompous hypocritical jerk. I cant stand him. There are many many other reasons why I cant stand Bono but this is enough for now

much love,

Thursday, April 16, 2009

The Perils of Live Music

The memory of hours of pain and discomfort are always lost in the excitement when I am purchasing tickets to see live music. As I was slowly getting crushed to death by hundreds of stinking men at a Green Day concert the other night, I was thinking of many ways I could avoid these misfortunes in the future.

Don't ever ever ever bring a purse or bag...especially a big one..filled with expensive crushable things and perfume bottles that threaten to leak. All you need is your ID and a twamp and you should be good. Anything you don't want to lose, swallow for safe keeping. Saddle bags, purses, backpacks, just don't do it people. Its hard work trying to hold on to a sack of valuables in a tornado of grabby hands , pushing and pulling. Its also endlessly annoying for people around you who are rubbed raw by your bouncing leather saddlebag grinding the skin off of their bones. Just leave that shit in the car please. You don't need most of those things and they will just end up crushed on the ground under frantic feet.

I wish I could design the perfect shoe for crowded concert goers. Something fashionable, with height, but that was all about business. It would have to be high so you could see over the shoulders of the hundreds of people taller than you. Comfortable since you will be standing for hours and hours, and functional, so something with a steal toe and perhaps some sort of deadly spike or tazing mechanism.

Don't ever bring a sweater or jacket because you will be overheating in the womb of sweat and breath of all of the nasty drunk people around you. It will end up around your waist and eventually being tangled around someones appendages and ultimately dragging you down.

Don't wear your favorite new shoes because people will be dancing on them all night. Don't wear your favorite clothes or jewelry and don't get mad when they get stretched out or destroyed ..you know better than to wear your brand new clothes . wear comfortable, breathable every day clothes that are machine washable

Another valuable tool to have would be a small key chain light. this will bring light to the murky floor beneath you. With this light you will be able to check to see where your cell phone fell before it gets crushed or liquefies in the toxic cesspool of beer , sweat , blood and dead babies that is now the floor, yo may also get lucky and find money or valuables that other people may have dropped. With this beacon you can repeatedly check to assure yourself that your feet are still attached to your legs and that your shoes aren't filling up with blood.

Most importantly bring your patience. Don't be one of those people who holds a grudge against the guy who tries to push past the crowd with two full beers spilling all over the place, don't scowl and cuss at people just for trying to use you to break their fall, they cant hear you and they really don't care anyways . This whole experience will be an extreme invasion of your personal space ...what did you expect ? Learn to laugh at the stupid drunk guys trying to flex on each other, and at girls who are pouring beer into the crowd and messing up your wig. Accept an apology when someone burns you with a cigarette in the back of your arm. Try your best to enjoy the music and enjoy other people enjoying themselves. After the night is through, robbed of your valuables, missing one shoe, covered in other peoples sweat, limp home, and fall asleep smiling.

much love,

Sunday, April 12, 2009

The Death of the Easter Bunny

I had a rotten childhood but one thing was always good for me was the holidays. I'd like to think that holidays were always exceptionally better for me than other children's. One thing that sticks out in my memory is Easter. Elaborate treasure hunts leading to lavish Easter baskets filled with gifts of pastel colored chocolates and small toys. Trading candy with my siblings. Being a child of divorce I had double the holiday festivities. going from double to nothing is something that still depresses me.

Holidays just aren't the same. I was never warned that ribbon lined baskets of goodies would not appear at my bedside in April once I had entered adult life. I opened my eyes this morning (this afternoon really) and its just another day. Just another Sunday. A Sunday before a Monday.Sure, I could buy my own supplies and construct a basket that is equally worthy if not better, sure I could persuade my boyfriend to make me a basket to enjoy. It wouldn't be the same. I would know that chocolate eggs cost money and no mysterious rabbit dropped it off and wrote my name on it in pink puff paint with its furry little paws.

Oh Easter when will you return to me? When has life become such an empty basket? Or no basket at all?

much love,

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Dalai Lama's 18 rules for living

This list really spoke to me. These truly are words of wisdom. I have highlighted the ones that I think are particularly important to me.

1.Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
2.When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.
3.Follow the three Rs:
Respect for self
Respect for others
Responsibility for all your actions.
4.Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.
5.Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly.
6.Don’t let a little dispute injure a great friendship.
7.When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
8.Spend some time alone every day.
9.Open your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values.
10.Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
11.Live a good, honourable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll be able to enjoy it a second time.
12.A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life.
13.In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don’t bring up the past.
14.Share your knowledge. It’s a way to achieve immortality.
15.Be gentle with the earth.
16.Once a year, go someplace you’ve never been before.
17.Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.
18.Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.

much love,

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Adventures in Public Transportation

I sold my car in December. At first it was liberating. No more insurance, registration, traffic , tickets, the dreaded red and blue lights in my rear view mirror, accidents, parking, tow away zones, worrying about it getting broken into, oil changes, costly maintenance and repairs, squeaky breaks, bald tires. None of that. I slept a little better the night.

I looked up the local bus routes and decided that it would be a refreshing challenge to utilize my cities public transportation system. I told myself I was doing it for the environment to make myself feel a little greener, a little more "hip". I have learned some interesting things about living car free. Mainly that it sucks. Its taken my all of this time to finally admit this. Here are a few reasons why I now despise riding the bus and am currently saving my pennies for a shiny new car.

Bus drivers are mean!!! They are miserable people. I once was yelled out for a whole bus ride for being a quarter short of the fair. I try to be as nice as I can be to these drivers and they still use every chance they get to be absolute a holes. They act like its my fault that they never finished college.

The waiting!!! This will really test your patience. I have spent hours waiting at freezing bus stops

checking the time, wondering if I was waiting for a bus that already came. Watching all of the cool people drive by in their serene little bubbles listening to their stereos, zipping around, laughing it up as I waited and waited hoping no one I knew would spot me pacing around the bus stop like a bum. I recommend bringing a good book or a handheld video game , a crossword puzzle, anything that will distract you from the humbling experience.

Its dangerous. I work in a bad neighborhood and missed my usual bus home one evening. As a result I had to hang around a shady block watching people buy and sell drugs, piss on the streets, and cuss and fight. When I finally got on the bus it was packed with shifty looking characters who all seemed to have their eyes fixed on my purse. I sat there imagining what weapons each of them were concealing. I spent the whole ride tense and regretting not purchasing a can of mace. It took me across the tracks to places I have only seen in crime movies. I was so happy to be home that night. I could finally relax after patting myself down making sure I wasn't bleeding from some unknown puncture wound and checking to make sure I still had my wallet.

Catching the wrong one can mess up your whole schedule. I have boarded the wrong bus on several occasions and ended up in strange places. I ended up being 2 hours late to work several times just because of one wrong move. One laps in clarity when one of those a hole bus drivers failed to give me the right routes.

So in conclusion, the bus is a great alternative to an automobile for a very short time. At first it can be somewhat exciting and feel like a mini adventure. I do not recommend relying only on buses. Its not impossible to get around without a car but you will annoy the heck out of your friends, bumming rides gets old , and riding the bus is exhausting.

much love,

Advice on a train

Riding the train cross country was truly an experience. The people you meet, the places you experience, the smells you take in even the extremes in weather. What was facinating about taking a train is the sense of community. It was like stepping into a neighborhood from another era. The people were so friendly and open (probably due to the fact that you won't see these people ever again). I sat next to an older black woman from Georgia and she told me about her husband who had passed away earlier that year. She gave me advice on how to keep my husband happy and I remember her telling me that "you should never let anyone into your bedroom even your children" & "your bedroom is sacred and meant for intimacy" she also told me to "never go to bed angry, stay up and fight".

I sat next to a number of people and even other peoples children which I thought was strange. If I had a child I would want to keep them as close as possible and I certainly wouldn't want them sitting/sleeping next to a stranger in another part of the train. I guess given my innocent face they figured I would probably watch them and keep them from harm -which I did.

I sat next to a 17 year old boy who was from one of those states that starts with an M. He was on his way to live with his brother in New York or Maryland where he was going to try to get into some private school to become a minister and also compete in a yoyo competition (I never knew yoyoing was a competetive sport). He was very interesting to me because first of all he was the first attractive person I had sat next to in my two weeks riding the train. It also helped that he entertained me with yoyo tricks. He was very tall, with big hands, pouty lips, brown curly hair and naturally tan skin.

We talked a lot and watched a movie on a viewer I had rented at the Union Station in Chicago. Of course our conversation turned to sex and him saving himself for his future wife. I thought it would be so romantic to save yourself for marriage and the idea of this attractive guy actually doing that made like him even more. I gave him the best advice I could for the big night when ever it may be and he gave me some good pointers on how to perform "the ferris wheel" with a yoyo he gave me.
The people on the train are one of kind. It was fun talking to people knowing I would never see them again after they or I boarded another train in another direction. I often wonder about everyone I talked to or observed on the train. How the family reunion was was for the elderly black woman from Georgia, if the children had similar memories to mine from the train and if the 17yr old ever gave into the temptations of a girlfriend.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

I started doing my homework and ended up writing a love letter

I still cry these inky tears on paper. I blacken page after page with memories. Cool blue pictures drawn out on bed sheets that have lasted longer than we ever did. You make me sit and think and fill little books with questions I never asked you and stories I never finished telling you. I hate you for making me question my happiness now after all of these years and for making everyone else not quite good enough not really worth my time.

I don’t want to think about who we were. I want to be someone that doesn’t think about how it felt to feel the heat in our cheeks rising and to know what its like to accidentally fall in love and not know how to survive afterwards. I love you in seasons. It fades, shrivels, crumbles to nothing then swells and blooms again. I keep stabbing at these roots but the wind always brings young seeds.
I wish I could reduce you to a stranger merely another passerby. Instead you are the most vivid of a sting of ghosts that haunts my bedroom at night. Stay in your grave, don’t remind me of what living was like. That was thousands of years ago and I’ve lived many lives since then. It all seems obscene to me now and the more I dwell on it the stranger it becomes. I write and rewrite pages and pages. I examine every glance every memory I can recall. Analyse every warm broken breath. Still I have no solution still the only sense I can make of all of this is that I love you and that you loved me once in some distant world. Some lost realm that I was so suddenly expelled from.I cant stop dreaming of you at night and waking up still warm from your touch .