Thursday, October 19, 2006


How can you love and hate a chore at the same time? Every other day, Lee and I swap dish duties since Lisa is resident cook. I loathe doing the dishes. I am slow at them and my hands feel perpetually wrinkly afterwards. And as I wash something particularly dirty, I have weird thoughts run through my head. I'm currently using a sponge with dish soap and rubbing the grease around until it somehow comes off the dish and somewhat soaks itself into the sponge. Then I wash the dish and it is "clean". That is weird. You just rubbed a grease/soap mixture off... mixture, people, not just soap. I almost feel the need to wash it one more time with a clean sponge to give it a real rinse. Poeple, I think I am becoming OCD, or maybe already am a little. Anyways, onto why I LOVE dish washing. Actually I hate the washing... but I LOVE stackling the dish washer. For some reason, I love the challenge of somehow fitting a crap ton of dishes and pots into our oddly designed dish washer. I take my stacking very seriously. Once I am finished and see that I've fit every dish, I feel a great sense of accomplishment. I know... lame. :-) I guess I am somewhat of a problem solver. I like being given a problem, the variables, and finding an optimal solution. I really enjoyed linear programming in college. If you're savvy on your math fields, you would tell me I should have went into operations research! Where were you 4 years ago? :-)

I was reading my Entertainment Weekly and saw a nice little spread on Sacha Baron Cohen. Borat comes out in a few weeks and I plan on dragging someone to see it with me. I'd see it with my two favorite joos, but alas, I've got conflicting plans. Nonetheless, I look forward to the movie. I am sure it will be hilarious and horrible all at the same time. Hilarious because Sacha is a genius and horrible because there are actually people out there who make ignorancy a personality trait. Alas, what can you do? Me, I plan on laughing at the pitiful people and their unbelievable beliefs that Borat is so smartly exposing. Kudos to you. Or as you would say... Niiice! ;-)

Small complaint on Entertainment Weekly: please stop writing your reviews as if every movie you watch is of Oscar calibur. They aren't. There are movies and then there are films and each critic knows this. Loosen up on the snob critiques and try approaching it with some realistic expectations. Also, I beg of you, do not, I repeat, do not give the movie away in the review. I just want an appetizer, not the whole entree smushed into a convenient Happy Meal To Go. These days, it seems like reviews and trailers just give away too much. The trailers should tease and pique your interest without giving away 75% of the plot. I don't pay $10 to see an extended version of the trailer. Ok, no more rants. :-)

I'm feeling a reasonable hour for bed tonight. Let's see if I can make it happen. Wish me luck!

rats all around

What is it about clothes and the fact that I can't just throw out stuff I don't wear? I am one of those people who does her laundry every two weeks and cycles the same set of clothes rather than give each outfit an opportunity to see the light of day. I "thinned" my closet and dresser when I moved to this new apartment to make things fit in the storage places given. Yet, as I glance over at my closet, I see shirt after shirt and think, damn, I haven't worn that since last year, or maybe even the year before. My problem is letting go. I always think, what if I get rid of it and then three months down the road, I all of a sudden need THAT one item? The probability is low, but the fact that there is a chance makes me a horrendous pack rat. I am not a risk taker. As an actuarial student, I manage risk... but as every day me, I don't even take a risk. Yikes. I need to throw shit out. Clutter does some serious damage, not only in my closet, but my friggin' life.

A few weeks ago, someone got laid off in my office. It really shook me. I didn't see it coming and it wasn't even in my department and I only knew him somewhat, but still... it really got me thinking. What if that had been me? What if I were laid off? Would I continue looking for another job in the actuarial profession? Maybe, the practical side of me says probably. But then, the scared-and-afraid-she-is-going-to-end-up-unhappy-professionally side of me screams, TAKE OUT A CRAP TON OF LOANS AND GO BACK TO SCHOOL, WOMAN! And then practical me asks, hold on crazy, WHAT would you study? And then the dreamer side concedes with an I DON'T KNOW! and goes down for the count as practical me takes her unhappy victory lap around the ring. I'm telling you, practical me wants to be punched in the stomach, but dreamer me just can't seem to come up with the vision and the pizzazz to do it.

I'll spare you anymore in-depth speak of where the heck I'm going with this life and continue with the inane. Ben and Tom visited and it was so nice to have them here. Unfortunately, Ben's snores are enough wake the dead and I could not suffer more than one night sleeping with him. Seriously, you could hear his snores through my door as I slept in the living room with the oh-so-quiet sleeper, Tom Muller. We got together with the Huzinecs and gosh, I hope that when I retire, I look as happy as they are and as adventurous! :-) I really needed this past weekend. I love my cousins to death, but I am starting to miss my friends. I am lucky that my cousins indulge me and let me be me - geeky, know-it-all, funny, and all about the TMIs. We're family and nothing beats that. But I also need people to grow with me and to share my passions and impress upon me their own passions. I miss being able to talk about movies and having someone share the same passion for detail and trivia and the affect the film had on me. I miss being able to talk about music and dissecting and gushing over the beauty of an artist's words, melodies, and talent. I miss having people around who share similar thought patterns in terms of politics and social issues. I miss the catty banter that particular friends provide, and the advice and points of view they had on my life and their own. I miss my friends. I really do. They balance me out and color so many different parts of my personality. One of the worst parts of adulthood is being on your own and working so hard to retain the pieces of yourself that flourish when being with your friends... who now live miles and miles away. The world seems at its largest when you need someone and they can't be there for you immediately, whether they're 50 or 1,000 miles away. I guess I am very thankful for our overly connected world, because without it, I'd be my own sinking island.

I saw The Departed this past weekend. I am not big on violence or gangsta movies, but I must say I enjoyed it. I usually don't care for movies like this because the tension in my stomach from waiting for the conflict to explode in my face is too much to handle on a regular basis. But Scorcese did a nice job. The story was good and kept me interested and guessing and wondering which rat was going to come out this clean. The violence was well... violent. The humor came in small patches, but were just right and enough to keep the film from being 100% dark and ominous. Also, I always appreciate sex scenes where you can create the tension and the passion without being sleazy, and Scorcese did that. Well there is the OTHER sex scene that was extremely over the top, but laughable. You'll just have to see it for yourself. Kudos on the Southie speak and the few recognizable clips of Boston. He did the city proud, even if he filmed most of it in New York. :-P

I've cat napped twice this week already. And then I stay up late like this. And then want to nap the next day. I've got to nip this in the bud! Time for bed.

PS. No one wants to see The Scissor Sisters with me. :-( It's a sad day. What the heck am I going to do with this extra ticket?!

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

realistic superficial importance

I just introduced My So-Called Life to Lisa this past weekend. And crazily enough, we just ended the series already, and it's just Tuesday. That is 23 hour episodes (OK, more like 45-50 min episodes) in about four or five days. Finishing the one lone season always leaves me wishing for more, wondering what happened, where Angela Chase's life would have went had she had another season. This is probably my third time through the series, and it feels as if I am watching it for the first time. I am not sure if I am describing this correctly, but it's the realistic superficial importance that the teenage characters put on their daily issues that resonates to what life was like for me at that age... maybe even now a little. What's amazing is that somehow through all the superficialness, we each manage to find portions of ourselves and learn those "important" life lessons. In Angela's case, and my own at times, those lessons are always filled with drama and the-world-revolves-around-this-moment mentality. If you think that life is better led without the roller coaster rides of drama, I'd tell you that you were wrong. It's the drama that keeps things interesting, forcing you to continue living for the next day because it's a toss of the dice on what happens next. And that unknown is so damn addicting. Life should be addicting! Life IS addicting. Oh man, I am so silly right now. I'll stop before I get anymore coming-of-age cliche-ish. My So-Called Life always pulls this number on me. Angela's introspective nature just channels the over-analyist in me. :-)

Sometimes I forget that not all human beings function or think the way I do. I am pretty sure that statement sounds very dumb and will resonate numerous times through my head as I try and finish this blog. I will re-edit that statement several times before I give up and just live with the silliness of the statement. Anyways, I was listening to music and just talking with my roommates and it hit me... they don't listen to music the way I do. With music, I listen, I absorb, I try to empathize... what do the words mean? What is the mood? How does this song fit in my life? Who is this artist? What is making them tick? With music I love, I listen and listen and listen. I know all the words, know the artist, attach their songs to periods in my life. I make their music a small portion of who I am because I am passionate about it and want this passion to be stamped all over my personality and thinking and words. But guess what? Not everyone functions like that. My roommates just listen for the good beat or the catchy "it" snag line of the today's trends. They don't always know the words to a song they like/"love" or the artist or sometimes what the song is trying to say about joe schmoe's life. That is just so... strange, to me at least. How do people not TRULY listen to music? Newsflash, Vonda, people don't absorb music, even life really, the same way you do. Maybe you all know this already and I'm silly to point it out. But it just hit me hard how different we all are and how we interpret things in our lives.

::yawn:: I'll stop blabbering now. I have issues getting to bed at reasonable hours. I guess some things will never change.

"People are always saying you should be yourself, like yourself is this definite thing, like a toaster. Like you know what it is even. But every so often I'll have, like, a moment, where just being myself in my life right where I am is, like, enough." --Angela Chase