"You're wasting your life." "I am not. What you call wasting, I call living. I'm living my life."
I have about 18 million things I ought to be doing right now, but without the motivation or even a direction, it seems that blogging is what I'd rather be doing. Unfortunately, I have several half-thoughts tonight, though, so I think it's time to bust out the bullet points.
Today, wore the t-shirt you see here, but I forgot I was wearing it, so as I walking around campus, I was trying to figure out why everyone kept looking at... not my face (and occasionally laughing - NEVER a good sign). Around the time the fifth girl in 10 minutes blatantly stared a foot below my eyes, I remembered, and I felt much less like a piece of meat.
- Mailed an application today for this program teaching English in French public schools this fall after I graduate, before I go to grad school (assuming I even get in to grad school). I look awful in passport-esque pictures (not that I'm photogenic as it is), and I'm horrible when it comes to answering "why" questions. Anyway, updates will follow as I hear back, I suppose.
- Forced myself to schedule a meeting with my thesis advisor tomorrow, which means that I really need to find more sources. I can't decide if I ought to go dig through the library tonight so I can find the Old World sources I need so I can have a valid argument to present to him, or if I ought to spend the time studying for my French test and working on my chapters for philosophy and then tomorrow, just taking the Quebecois sources I have, and asking him if he thinks one direction versus the other would be better for my thesis. I'll probably end up going for the lazier option, because that's my style, although I have an hour in the middle of the day tomorrow that I may devote to the dungeons of Special Collections.
- Why does Disney release so many straight-to-video movies? Bambi II? Seriously? Is this really where we're going to go now?
- I guilt-tripped my home teachers into coming tonight; one really shouldn't call on the last day of the month to apologize for not coming thus far and then promise to come next month. One especially shouldn't call and do that when I'm feeling punchy (I think feeling overwhelmed has a tendency to energize me).
- Hockey today was hell. Skating was actually WORSE than I expected it to be (and I'm hardly one to have optimistic expectations), and after two hours on the ice, I'm hobbling. Literally, hobbling. Totally bailed on yoga tonight (and feeling plenty guilty about it, too). If my trainer tries to make me do anything other than upper body and maybe abs tomorrow, I'm going to drop-kick him, as soon as I'm capable of raising my leg that high.
- Had a revelation today while talking to Em about a mutual friend's obsession with some guy. Men... can't be convinced. If they know your name and you've maybe hung out once or twice, you've done all you can do. If that's where it is, you can't push it beyond that. When a guy's interested, it's hard to miss, and you don't have to do so much - frankly, you CAN'T do that much. I thought I knew this before, but I think I've finally internalized it. When women finally realize that a man isn't playing hard to get, but that he's just not that into them, the world will be a much happier place. I may write more about this as I think about it further, but here's my thought in embryonic form (don't want to lose it, ya know?).
- If there were a legal limit for parenthetical statements, I blew an .08 forever ago. (Sorry.)
"It's time for someone who has the courage to stand up and say, 'I'm against those things that everybody hates!'"
So today I was on campus and walked through the student center around 12:15ish during my one break during the day, and some kid was passing out flyers for the Republicans Club on campus. He tried to give me one, and I indicated that I wasn't so much a Republican, and he told me that if I took a flyer, that was one less flyer that he could give to a Republican, thus weakening the Republican party. ...yeah...
Oh - and I finally started working with my personal trainer today again after a month or so, and I made the mistake of telling him that when playing hockey, I noticed that the right side of my lower body is weaker than my left, so he started working on correcting that. I can hardly walk. Skating tomorrow is going to be beastly.
"My family never talks about library standards. And every time I try to steer the conversation that way, they make me feel like a nerd."
So I've been spending loads of time doing research for my senior thesis, and as a result, I've been wearing my glasses a lot more, as my eyes tend to get more tired when wearing my contacts. I've gotten a lot of comments as a result, so perhaps I need to get out of my "this is what I always do" mentality (which is what I do with my hair, and my eyes, and my wardrobe... frankly, I'm boring). I don't really have anything all important or anything to say, but I figured I hadn't posted any pictures in a while, so here's one o' me looking the way I do when I find myself engrossed by the letters of Marie de l'Incarnation. I wish I weren't so into the writings of a 17th century Ursuline nun (although it helps me justify wanting to go to grad school); then again, I also wish my thesis were already done.
"Why would I write a play for you? Isn't it obvious?" "Not to me." "It's in the subtext."
Just got back from seeing
King Kong (finally), and just a few comments. First, girls are dumb. Second, I'm really glad I shut my eyes during the entire bug scene. I know there were bugs and wormy things, but that's it, so hopefully I'll be able to sleep tonight. And finally, I think I probably get too much into movies, too tense, too emotional. But really, the thought that keeps floating to the top of my consciousness... girls are dumb.
"But I know I'd rather drag myself across the dance floor..."
A few thoughts from my drive home from work this afternoon:
- Starting your drive with the sounds of a white boy layin' down that boogie and playin' that funky music tends to get one dancin' and singin' and movin' to the groovin' for the entire drive. Stuff like that also makes me speed; good thing I didn't pass any highway patrolmen.
- The state-college-that-used-to-be-a-community-college in Utah County may want to be all competitive with the only university in ProvOrem, but until they quit with the open enrollment, having 44 different Bachelor's degrees (and rising!) really isn't going to be enough. You can't win a competition if your competition is unaware of the competition's existence.
- Sometimes I think I'm really really really not an adult. Yeah, I'm 25, and other people I know who are 25 maybe are adults, but I'm not. You think about the kinds of stuff that people have done in their twenties, and you have to be impressed. I, however, am not impressive. Conclusion: I am in no way an "old soul." Or maybe dating significantly older men from when I was 19 to 22 or so retarded my maturation. Who knows. At least I'm young at heart...
- If you're going to live in Utah, learn how to drive in Utah. (No, don't develop a need to have 500 yards between you and the car ahead of you, don't forget how to drive at a constant speed, and don't become pathologically afraid of changing lanes more than once every fifteen minutes.) See, it snows in Utah, and yes, one must drive differently in snow. However, just because there are three snowflakes in the air does not mean you need to drive 30 mph in your ginormous Blazer with the snow tires when Belinda Margaret the Purple Plastic Car has no problems going 65 (or faster...). If, heaven forbid, you ARE going to do 30 on the expressway, at the very least, don't do it in the lane most states refer to as "the passing lane."
- I have long harbored not-so-secret desires to sing in a band, and I have finally figured out why Fate has kept me far far away: I'm an idiot when I get into the music. I'm a head-bobbing, lip-pursing, shoulder-shrugging-à-la-Tina-Turner, leg-tapping dork. Also, I realized why karaoke isn't my thing; about half of the time, I sing the harmony when I'm singing along to songs.
- Whoever came up with the idea of winter blades deserves accolades, because really, I love me a nice, clear windshield.
"You are entering the realm which is unusual. Maybe it's magic or contains some kind of monster. The second one. Prepare to enter... The Scary Door."
So I just went upstairs to get Sweet DW to help me with a fun little math conversion question (yes, I'm lazy; your point?) and was talking to JR (Sweet DW's Scottish roommate) and Brewmeister Shaun, a guy in my ward, and who actually serves on my committee. (Church jargon, I know - if you don't know what I'm talking about, email me. I'm looking at you, Andy.) JR had had some Scottish party today (not unlike my and DW's plans for a Casmir Pulaski party in March) that Em, this other girl who goes to yoga with us, and I sort of ran into. Anyway, so tonight, Brewmeister Shaun asked me how I knew This Other Girl Who Goes To Yoga With Us, as she apparently rents out his basement apartment.
Ironically enough, Em has been talking up the upstairs neighbor of TOGWGTYWU for the last few months, telling me about the extremely brief conversation she and Stevie had with him, and how he was cute and I'd get along with him, so I should go out with him. Apparently, Em went further than that with Sweet DW and told her she ought to just marry the upstairs neighbor. DW and I laughed for a really long time at that one, because it's so typical of Em. I really have no objections to being set up with people, but this... classic, especially considering how well DW and I know Brewmeister Shaun. I'm not sure exactly how to convey the humor of this, but... hilarious.
Oh - and a free bit of advice: if you come home from a long yoga class and find yourself really hungry for grapefruit while you're doing your philosophy homework, don't assume a small bit of sports apparel will be enough to keep the citric acid out of the scratch on your rib cage. Because it won't.
"If for any reason you're not satisfied with our service, I hate you."
So I spent two hours playing hockey today, and where was I when I got kicked in the head and whacked in the leg? Yoga.
The Gary Larson version for people who don't feel like reading this whole thing:
Ice cream is good, and people are weird.
So I got Sweet DW to go out with me last night in the snow, and it was late enough that we both felt justified in looking like bums. (Nothing like two 25-year-old women in Provo wearing scrubs and yoga pants to say, "we have no intention of leaving this town in any state but single!") We went to Kinko's, where we talked to this girl in our ward who works there and I found myself a bit into the Kinko's guy. Got some ice cream at Ben & Jerry's, where I discovered the goodness of Oatmeal Cookie Crunch, or something like that. It's just really really good; I had them hand-pack a pint for me (which will take me at least a month to eat - how do you people eat ice cream so fast?). If you've never tried it, do yourself a favor. It's yummy.
Then, on our way home, Sweet DW and I stopped at the ol' Wendy's drive-thru, where we decided that that's probably the fast-food place we've gone to the most since we got to school, due to proximity and its less-nasty status, because we sure haven't been going there for there for the last eight years for the service. At the second window, I asked the Wendy's chick for some ketchup, and she asked me something about five dollars. I kind of assumed she didn't speak English, because whatever was coming out of her mouth made absolutely NO sense, so after repeating, "I need KETCHUP" really slowly, she made her joke again, which was something about holding the ketchup ransom for $5. I think. I dunno. I've decided that people like that ought to be forced to an open-mike night every so often so they can get all of their horrible humor out on each other and leave the rest of us alone. Even now, as I think about it 19 hours later... weirdness.
"Ah, bicuspid, we meet again. En garde!"
So I was chatting with my first boyfriend this morning while I was getting ready for school, and we were discussing, sort of, how I'm weird about figuring out what I'm going to wear in the morning. Today, I realized why that is. Whenever I'm on campus, I always run into people I know (no, really; it happens so often I will sometimes vary what I do between classes so I can avoid seeing people), and today there were more hugging moments than usual.
Ran into this kid I used to be great friends with but haven't seen in forever, plus my best buddy from freshman year which always makes my day even though we hang out a bunch, and another kid I haven't seen in forever, plus my cousin Spence, and since I hadn't seen him since before Christmas, he got the flying-leap-hug. Point being, when I run into people, I'm a lot more comfortable talking if I don't feel like I'm currently hideous, especially if the conversation is long and involves email/phone number exchange. And that, First Boyfriend, is why I try to make sure I don't feel ugly when I go to class.
"Bagels are like glue in your intestines and ensure that everything that enters your body will remain there until you die."
So I've eaten nothing but junk today, and I'm starting to feel guilty about it, as I'm about to go to a yoga class, and that always makes me more aware of what I put into my body. It's good that I'm going, though, because I've been feeling a little out of it, as well as somewhat insecure, and I could really use some time where I don't have to think at all. Ahhhh... blessed mental void. I can't wait.
"That's two independent-thought alarms in one day. Willie, the children are overstimulated. Remove all the colored chalk from the classrooms."
Today on campus, there was someone dressed as a very large tooth carrying a foam toothbrush just outside one of the doors to the student center. Also, someone had built a large snow fort between the fine arts building and the library. People were taking pictures with the tooth (now, university and DisneyWorld are apparently the same thing), and there were three girls very conspicuously sitting in the snow fort (nothing like hanging out at the local snow fort for saying "I'm low-maintenance; ask me out!"). Most schools aren't like this, are they?
"When I buy a new book, I read the last page first. That way, in case I die before I finish, I know how it ends. That, my friend, is a dark side."
So last night my cousin Pitt crashed at my apartment, and we stayed up until 3:30 or so talking, which was fun, except for the part where I had to get up for church at 7:15 this morning. Anyway, so Pitt is in a band in Heber, and plays in the area (Park City, ProvOrem, Salt Lake, etc.) and apparently they're looking for a new bass player. I mention our cousin Em, as Em's played bass since the 4th grade or something, and she's good. So Pitt tells me that she thinks Em would be a bit uptight for her band, to which my response was, "have you MET Em?"
In the course of our conversation, I discover that Pitt apparently thought Em and I were like the rest of our family, who tend to be very right-wing, ultra-conservative, lovingly intolerant, etc. We get on the topic of marriage and weddings and stuff (shocking topic for two single girls in the UC, especially when they don't have that much else to talk about - even music was a bust, as I don't know country, and she doesn't know... lots of other stuff) and I mention things like how I don't want an engagement ring, and my fiancé will NOT be asking my dad if he can marry me, and how I want an equal partnership based in love and mutual respect, and frankly, I think the girl's poor head was ready to spin off.
She was talking about how she *wanted* to make her future husband "go through" talking to her dad so she would know that he thought she was worth it. I don't get the idea of extra tests - he's marrying you; does that not say you're worth whatever "it" is? I know that she's young(ish), and given our family, the society here, and her personal interests, I'm not too surprised that she's really into being taken care of and the idea of making some guy jump through hoops. It does sorta make me sad, though. I wonder if I can blame this on Utah...?
"Hey, hey, shh, shh, shh. Come on. Be sensitive to the fact that other people are not comfortable talking about emotional disturbances.
Um, you know, I am, I'm fine with that, but... other people." So I chatted with the guy a little today, and we talked a bit about how I'm feeling pretty okay with the situation and wanted to be friends, and in the course of our conversation, he told me that I *wasn't* over him. I wasn't really sure how to respond, and now that I've closed the chat window, I don't remember what I said. I've thought about it, and I don't know quite how to explain how I feel. I care about him, but I've completely moved on from the idea of ever being *with* him again, if that makes any sense. I dunno...
Frankly, I probably have a jacked up sense of the friends v. more-than-friends thing, as I've briefly dated virtually all of my male friends at one point or another (the gay ones and my best friend from freshman year are the only exceptions that come to mind), so I think I'm more accustomed than most to going from dating to being just friends. Then again, that probably also means that I have very blurred lines when it comes to the friends/dating boundaries. Meh.
Mostly, I just think I'm crazy. (Why else would I be at this moment stressing about the quality of my French paper, despite the fact that I turned it in yesterday and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it now? I think I need to spend a couple of hours cleaning tonight; that should clear my head. Anybody want to help Swiffer my apartment?)
"I was just running kissing drills."
Since when has "stopping by" been code for "making out"? That's not what I intended when I said "stopping by" was fine, and it's getting in the way of my sad excuse for a paper. Frankly, I'm past the point where random kissing is exciting; then again, does it mean I'm getting old when I'd actually rather be doing hateful homework than smooching a relatively cute guy?
Oh well... at least my paper's almost done.
"You're entering a world of pain, son. We know that this is your homework. We know that you stole a car."
I think I'm going to use Walter as my excuse to not do a French paper I'm avoiding right now. Any chance you might want to do it for me, Kink?
So today I had both hockey and yoga, and I'm pretty much exhausted, which is a lovely, delicious feeling. I'm bruised, stretched out, completely relaxed, and to top off the goodness of my day, no one around me cried at ALL. (I might, however, cry if I don't manage to finish this French paper. Oh, how I hate school right now.)
"It's mostly ceremonial stuff nowadays. Declaring knighthoods, opening supermarkets. But now and then, you get to banish someone or pose for a stamp."
Made my mother cry tonight... It wasn't
completely my fault, but I didn't help the situation. It seems like pretty much everyone I know is crying, unless it's my turn and I'm the one who's bawling.
Man, I feel guilty.
"That had the tact of a Nazi storm trooper."
Let's see... so today I got my first bruise in hockey, which involved stopping the puck with my body during our scrimmage. You can't see too much of it yet, but it's looking like it'll be a great one. It's not truly hockey season for me until I've been bruised. Happy day.
Oh! Tonight, I was avoiding my homework by watching TV when Em suddenly came in my front door in tears. She had some drama today as a result of saying something that she shouldn't have, and thus I got to comfort her and help her work it out and realize that it really will be okay. It was kind of funny how completely our roles reversed; last night I was the one calling in tears, and tonight she burst in crying. Balance - that's what friendship is all about, isn't it?
"Curses only have power when you believe them. And I don't."
Tonight I had what I believe will be my last set of tears with regards to the guy. After more than three weeks of trying figuring out what to do, I've had enough. My cousin Em came over for several hours, got my mind off it, and then helped me start to feel better about the whole thing. We also watched
Practical Magic, which I think is what we watched four years ago during one of the several times that K-Dawg stepped on Em's heart. Anyway, I think I'm starting to feel okay, which... is good. I'm good with moving on, finally. Oh - and apologies to my friend in SLO; it's unlikely that I'll ever post the detailed version now.
"But it is dark upstairs and I am frightened of the dark. Will no one come with me?"
So I was getting ready for bed while my TV was on, and there was a brief commercial for the new remake of
When A Stranger Calls. I've long been the type to be really easily scared, but it's pathetic that merely half-watching a commercial for what will most likely be a bad movie freaked me out. I actually had to go and check all of the closets and the empty bedroom and triple-check that every door was deadbolted. From what I can tell, my house is empty, but that doesn't mean I won't have nightmares. Argh.
"Dude, we've been patient all day but it's my last day in town and you haven't told us what we're doing."
So after thinking about the quote I have as the title to my blog, I'm thinking that I'm only patient if I *know* that I'll get my own way in the end; I'm not so good with just waiting to get my way. Knowing the end from the beginning is a major determining factor for my level of patience, and I'm not totally sure that it was for good ol' Margaret. Today, I waited more than two hours for an appointment, but that's because I knew what was going to happen, and I was willing to wait for it. At the same time, I'm incredibly impatient with the situation with the guy, which means... Uncertainty sucks.
"Couldn't sleep and wouldn't sleep, When love came and told me, I shouldn't sleep. Bewitched, bothered and bewildered am I."
I thought I had my emotions sort of under control - not happy, but at least not completely miserable. I was wrong. I think it's the lack of communication that gets to me the most - not that I can blame him. I was horrible for four months; he's got a long way to go before we're anywhere near even. It still hurts, though. I just wish I could deal with the whole thing without crying so much.
"You're entering the vicinity of an area adjacent to a location, the kind of place where there might be a monster or some kind of weird mirror."
A few reasons why I sometimes hate going to school where I do:
- People using phrases like "the antecedent of being" when discussing the story of the tortoise and the hare. Just because you're using biggish words when making a comment in class doesn't mean the professor will be impressed. Verbose is not the same thing as articulate.
- The proliferation of Kelly Clarkson songs. Today, when walking from my French class to the library, there were five girls standing on the steps in front of the student center singing "Behind These Hazel Eyes."
(Took some time on Google to figure out what the song was - the "I'm falling to pieces" line has been going through my head all day in their painfully screechy, flat tone.) Why? WHY? At a football game this fall, they played that song where Ms. Clarkson belts "SINCE YOU'VE BEEN GONE..." and most of the girls in the stadium *screamed* it. Frankly, it was scary; the girl sitting next to me had pop-out eyes like those stress dolls. Women here freak me out.
- Using the library as a dating service. Look, I know you're all here to get married and everything, but can't we save the loud flirting for a place other than where I'm studying? I've a hard enough time paying attention to Ranke as it is.
Days like today remind me why The Bubble sucks.
"This will be the high point of my day; it's all downhill from here."
So I just took a shower because I had finally gone for a jog after hockey (the jog being the reason I didn't shower immediately after hockey) and I was freezing. And, there's something about cleanliness that just makes me... content. Anyway, so I actually weighed a pound less after my shower than I did right before. Two things I learned as a result: a) apparently steam actually DOES work, at least when it comes to shedding water weight, and secondly, I need to be WAAAAAY less obsessive about my scale.
(And yes, the movie quote used for the title was just for you.)
"Milhouse, knock him down if he's in your way. Jimbo, Jimbo, go for the face. Ralph Wiggum lost his shin guard. Hack the bone. Hack the bone!"
Went to my first hockey class of the semester (it would have been Tuesday, but I was doing something else...), and it was nice to realize that I haven't completely forgotten how to skate. Wish I could say the same for my ability to speak French.
Anyway, so I actually got some stuff done today, which was nice (got an alignment, paid some school fees, a little homework, etc). Right now, I'm trying to decide how a rosemary lemon risotto would go with chicken spanaki (a Greek dish - chicken breasts stuffed with spinach and feta cheese and yummy spices). I think I'll try it this weekend, unless someone has a better idea. Can one make risotto to go with Greek food?
"God be with you 'til we meet again..."
Went to the funeral this morning of a second cousin who was killed on his mission in Virginia last week. I didn't really know him, but I went because I really love his grandparents and parents. It was sort of non-stop crying for me; the hardest part I think was when my Uncle Winslow (Morgan's grandfather) broke down in the middle (which thus became the end) of giving the closing prayer for the services. Apologies to those who might find this entry cryptic - check out
this website if you'd like more general information or email me or something.
"Good morning heartache, you old gloomy sight. Good morning heartache, thought we said goodbye last night..."
So today was my first day of classes in roughly forever, or so it seems. It went fine. I guess. You know, I feel sorta bad that my blog has been overtaken by my less-than-happy mood, but... Oh well. I'd apologize, but it seems that I only do that in conjunction with crying now, and I don't think I have the energy to deal with increased pain. I wish I had something happy to write, but it seems that this is one of those days, or even a couple of days (or weeks, for that matter), when nothing is going right. Even today, when I was driving I saw a car with a Cubs bumper sticker, which made me smile until I saw that the entire driver's door was overtaken by a Packers decal. Nothing is right with the world.
I wish it didn't feel like everything sucks.
"There's absolutely nothing wrong with you." "Really?" "Just kidding; how the hell would I know?"
Came home from New York today, and while waiting for my first flight, I saw this -> girl wearing the ugliest combination ever of cropped jeans and boots. I really hate this look, as well as the jeans-tucked-into-the-boots look, which was unfortunately all over the place in New York. Fashion capital of the world, my eye.
So my flights (yes, that's plural; stupid expensive direct flights) were uneventful, and had a good conversation with my seatmate on my entire second leg, which did a great job of keeping my mind off the impending visit with the guy. Got home, then left again to talk to the guy. Came home to get ready for school tomorrow, and... I'm nervous about it. I haven't been in sixteen months; I'm out of practice.
Of course, when I got home I was lucky enough to get all of these problems dumped on my lap, and I have 80 million more things to take care of, and it feels like everything is getting worse by the minute. As Sweet DW says... actually, I can't remember what she said, which is bad, because it was an hour ago, and it was funny.
I need to go to bed.
"They have this smoked salt in France, and I started using it, although after a few days, my skin started smelling smoky. It comes out your pores!"
So, today was another full day in the City That Never Sleeps (as Marky has mentioned at least daily since I've been here). Started with a trip to Rockefeller Center in search of a specific gift, which we couldn't find (I think it doesn't exist), hitting Carnegie Hall and Central park on the way, after which we headed to the Cloisters, which you'll see pictured here, sort of. We got kind of lost, walked through a sort of scary neighborhood, and then hiked up a big hill in a beautiful park, which left us maybe 20 minutes to check out the medieval art.
We then went downtown to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and spent a few hours there. I ended up mostly fascinated by the French works (imagine that - after studying French art and history for 4 months in Paris and I focus on the French stuff?) - the Rocco paintings were very good, and they had a huge collection of the impressionists. Skipped over the Monet, glanced at the Manet, and loved the collection of Degas, mostly. Hit the Renoir and Cezanne and Gauguin and Van Gogh, too, of course. I was really impressed with how extensive it all was. Also, I was impressed with how much I remembered.
I spotted a Watteau and a Millet from across the room; apparently my time wandering in the Louvre and the Orsay weren't a waste of time.
After we got too hungry to wait any longer, we got dinner at this Italian place in Chelsea (Portfolio on 19th between 5th and 6th - the salad was incredible, and my pappardella was pretty good), and ended up watching a movie with the dumbest audience ever assembled in a theater. All in all, a good day, and I'm exhausted, which I'm sure is a good sign.
I think my day would have been better had I not been worrying about seeing the guy again tomorrow. I can't wait, but I also don't want to go back, all at the same time. Oh well.
"Go potty or go home?" "Go nightclub?" "Go potty or go home?"
Today was the ultimate in being a tourist, which almost kept me too busy to think about the guy. Almost. Anyway, so Marky Mark and I went to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, ate dinner in Chinatown, wandered around Little Italy (and it really should have been the other way around - just because you're the only non-Asians in a restaurant does not make it necessarily good; the sauce on the beef we ordered smell nauseatingly familiar - nothing like an old roommate's bad cooking to ruin future bad cooking for you. Future tip for anyone wandering around Canal Street - if you go to the XO Cafe, get the pot thing; the menu is a waste of time. Of course, the restaurants we passed in Little Italy looked incredible.), hunted the racks of Bloomingdale's for a coat for Marky and then met up with his buddy Chip who works there. We attempted to go for dessert at Serendipity, but as the wait was something like two hours we elected to go to Dylan's and have some great ice cream sundaes, something that was only a little insane due to how freezing it was today.
Once we hooked up with Chip, we got to stop trying to figure out where to go, and he took us to the East Village to some piano bar, passing the Stonewall Inn (location of the
Stonewall Riots) on our way. The music was really fun, although the pianist and singers kept asking for requests, and they didn't know any of the ones I gave them, even though I made an effort to pick stuff they'd know. These are people who are trying to get on Broadway - how do they not know Duke Ellington? Anyway, so the music was good, and the whole thing only got better when this couple sat down beside us and proceeded to have a very weird interaction. Apparently, the woman only let the man have two choices - "nightclub" was not a valid option. On our way home, we transferred again at Times Square, and saw the same exact guy from last night. Because of our touristy fun today, we had the camera and got both pictures and a short video of our shoeless friend.
"You don't have to run."
"The people ride in a hole in the ground..."
So my time in the Big Apple with Marky Mark continued today, with getting up ridiculously late, eating a nice slice o' New York pizza, buying law books, other shopping, then going to the Empire State Building (can you guess where this picture was taken?), finally having dinner around Times Square and then going to see a movie, which was fun except for the part when I realized that my current predicament is very romantic-comedy-like, which is bad because I really hate the majority of rom-coms.
Couple of things I noticed today: it's amazing how many people are attractive. Sitting on the subway, I've really been struck how a lot of people just look... nice. They make an effort with their appearance, which is very admirable. Also, while waiting for a train I saw this guy who was oldish with long hair (but bald on top) and a long Father Abraham-type beard just hanging out, playing his guitar, not wearing shoes. His music was good (if he'd had a CD I'd have bought it) and clearly, anyone who hangs out in New York in January without shoes is of the tough-variety. Cool guy.
"You wanted in Times Square and less."
So I'm in New York with Marky Mark, which so far has been a good time, despite a fellow passenger patting me on the head on my flight and the fact that Marky Mark is horrible about describing restaurants to a foodie. ("I've eaten there before... it was fine, I guess. I don't know if it's GOOD or not.") I've found that I'm still pretty comfortable in cities, which is nice, despite being trapped in suburbia for the last few years, and I've discovered that I'm still a little obsessed: a lot of things keep reminding me of the guy, and how I blew it. Anyway, yeah. New York. It's a good time - I may even post pictures.
"Fight it, deny it. Don't let yourself fall in love."
So tonight I got dragged to
Muse to see
Drew Danburry and a few others do an open mic night. It was good, I suppose, but I was more than a little out of sorts due to my recent emotional turmoil. Something about crying all day while avoiding food just doesn't put me in the mood for yelling "yeah!" over and over and over and over. To be honest, I just sat there and stared at the floor while
Jason Anderson talked about how "alive" he felt, and all I could think about was the way my heart hurts.
Anyway, so the title of this post is the chorus of a song Drew played tonight. (Another favorite was "I'll always break your heart.") It was musically good, but the whole thing just made me mad. Lest anyone be confused about the concept, don't ever ever ever do what the title says. It doesn't work, and it'll make you miserable.
"Can't the perfect man fall into my lap, woo me, and make it so all I have to do is say 'yes' at the right times?"
After all of my
complaining, I found it, and had it, and then blew it. I'm an idiot.
