Posts from the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

I love Furballs!!!!

Since I know that the entirety of my reader base consists of my family, you know how much I love animals. I don’t know from where this love was spawned, however it is extremely present and this love combined with my mild undiagnosed ADD affects my life daily. For example a normal day to day walk/convo with me will go as follows, ” Oh my god I am so sorry that you saw your boyfriend Billy making out with your cousin Rita last night… OH MY GOD A PUPPYYYYYYY (insert five minutes of baby talk and petting). Seriously I am really sorry about that, lets talk about feelings, “OH MY GODDDD A BASSSETTTTTTTT Hound” ‘ You get the picture. But I can’t help it, its as if when I see a little furball prancing along on a leash I temporarily black out and when I come too I am covered in fur and have a drunk happy smile on my face. I just love these guys, there little paws and fuzzy faces, and squishy tummies. Its probably because I am a very tactile person and they are just so SOFT!!!! I know I am not alone in these feeling (maybe in the extremity) as there are many statistics showing how higher levels of happiness and healthfulness can be attributed to pet owners. I can remember when I was having a particularly bad day my own late cate “Beauty” would always be sure to snuggle extra close (slash snuggle at all) and try to give me some extra lovin. Maybe Beauty couldn’t read a book or solve a math equation, but animals are extremely intuitive! Here is a fabulous little article about a program providing furry companions to war vets, which is great, but the pups are trained by Inmates! I love this wonderful idea. It is a win win situation. The inmates are able to do something practical and rewarding and are given companionship while the dog receives intensive training and then finally these well trained canines head out to help out the vets! It is nice to know that in a day where it seems generations are becoming slightly apathetic about doing their part and contributing to society at the least the fuzzies are doing their bit (however unwillingly). Long live the furballs!!! http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/31/us/31dogs.html?_r=1&th&emc=th&oref=slogin

Homecoming 2006

As some of you may or may not know 1 week ago was my first experience attending my University’s homecoming as an alumna. I recall last year feeling a certain distate for those that returned for the game. I felt they were taking up unneccesary room in my bars and that they detracted from my overall enjoyment of the weekend. I did not understand why these individuals would feel they had the right to come back for this game and act as if they had never left school. Why wouldn’t they hang out in their hotel bars or other more sophisticated venues with the other alumni? Why would they choose to hang out with slovenly undergrads partaking in a weekend of binge drinking and other debaucherous merrimaking? Wasn’t the real world much more interesting than this contained community of mind altered non-reality? This is where my recent life experience becomes extremely valuable. The answer is “No”. In actuality the real world is not only not more interesting, it is in fact dull. As soon as I made my move down to Florida I booked my ticket to homecoming weekend. And after that ticket was booked every glich in my day was combatted with the thought that in 4 short weeks, three short weeks, 2, etc I would be going back to Ithaca. When the day actually arrived I was a mess. I tried cooling my nerves with a cocktail at the airport. This did not help and when my plane was delayed a fit of hysterics errupted. Another cocktail on the plane did not do the trick. But talking to every single passenger and flight attendant on the plane did. Not a minute after entering the plane I am pretty sure every passenger knew I had just moved to Florida, just graduated from Cornell, was going to my first homecoming and was most likely going to miss my connecting flight in Detroit. I had people mapping out the fastest route to the gate, I had people praying, I had people giving up their seat so I could get closer to the front of the plane to ensure a smooth exit from the plane, even though most others would be missing connections as well. Due to a small miracle and the fabulous persuasion of my dear friend awaiting me on my connecting flight I somehow made it and thus, began the greatest weekend of my life and my feeble attempts to trick the rest of campus into thinking I was still a student. Upon arrival in Ithaca New York, I immediately purchased a new Cornell sweatshirt, which became a permanent fixture on my body for the next week. Had I not stopped to take a picture or cry every 3 feet while trapsing around campus, I might have even fooled a few current students into thinking I still attended this Academic stomping ground. And the weekend itself it was in fact great. For three all too short days I felt like I had never even left. I ate at all my favorite restaurants, chatted with all my favorite teachers, had my favorite drinks at my favorite bars served by my favorite bartenders. And truth be told, if undergrads were feeling the way I did last year, I didn’t even notice, because I was having way to much fun. I have absolutely no qualms about returning to the exquisite event for many years to come and cannot wait for the day I give birth so that I can commence feeding my newborn “Cornell” propoganda to ensure his or her application 17 years from that day. I can just picture those “Somebody at Cornell loves Me” onsies now…

A little list

of things that piss me off. i know i know, to accomplish this is not a difficult feat, however since it brings me so much joy to complain about them, I feel it all comes out in the wash. The following are in no particular order.

1. Yesterday I was driving in my fabulous Honda rocking out to some jamming tunes. AKA a sentimental mix made during college since this is all I listen to these days. Anyway so I am rocking out/ weeping when I turn my head to see yet another F ing Hummer taking up the three lanes to my right. Oh god, not another one I thought to myself but continued to jam. Then I noted their license plate and saw that it was a “Save our Reefs” license plate. This is the part that irked me. ” Alright A hole, lets all get on that. Lets all put on some dive gear and rush off to save our reefs. How about instead of you paying $50 bucks for a license plate you stop driving around a vehicle thats bigger than my entire apartment, polluting my air, sucking up all of the gas in the world, and obstructing my view on the highway??? “(Side note I have nothing against the reefs, they are fabulous… and even though I harbor an inexplicable fear of the sea, I have nothing but the utmost respect for its inhabitants).

2. So my life is not so fascinating, I have a few days a week where it is wonderful and sunny and one of my few joys is to go and sit out by the pool and try to catch some rays (hey a girl can dream can’t she?) This past Sunday I am doing just that. It is 9:30, full sun, pretty much 500% humidity and I am relaxing on my chaise. The birds are chirping, I am sipping some cafe, life couldn’t be better. Thats when the little terrors arrive. A group of three boys that proceed to spend the next hour playing “Lets pretend to drown each other while screaming bloody murder”. Boys will be boys I suppose, but what gets me is their absent mother. She is sitting there with some aging gentleman discussing how kids have no boundries blah blah and how you can profile bad kids, etc. Come on!!!! Stop talking about the nation’s children and judging a book by its cover, when your own A Hole children are running around pretending to kill each other. Okay I judge that your bratty kids are cold blooded murders with no discipline! NEXT!

3. Designing Women. Seriously. Why is this show on Nick at Nite? This is really completely ruining my daily routine. Every night I would watch a couple of Roseanne episodes to soothe my nerves before bedtime. Its almost like a valium for me, it calms me… zones me out, makes me happy. Now every night I turn on my tube and what is one, but DESIGNING WOMEN!!!! Someone help me!!!! Get this program off tv, doesn’t everyone realize why this show hasn’t been on any channel for 10 years…. Its because it SUCKS! And it is way too emotional. I have already cried twice because of a traumatic scene dealing with AIDS and another about an abandoned child. I commend the program for tackling such important issues, especially the first time around, but I don’t need this kind of emotional drama. MORE ROSEANNE, LESS DESIGNING WOMEN.

4. This actually makes me happy. Three cheers for Panera Bread. I am usually not a sucker for any sort of chain other than my Dunkin Donuts, but this one is fabulous for one sole purpose. Free Wi-Fi!!! No more lonely days at home, I have an office!!! And it has free iced tea! Now I just need to see if they will make my copies and send my faxes….

Latest Aspiration

I just returned from my first Floridian manicure and discovered something fabulous. It was just like a Connecticut ian manicure!!! There is nothing more exciting than sitting with a stranger and not having any idea what she is saying or laughing about with her friends. It is also comforting to know there are indeed some Asians in Florida… must find out where they eat. Anyway I decided I need to become a foreign manicurist with my other foreign friends. How much fun would it be to gossip all day long and talk about the people that come in to your shop right in front of them?? I think it would probably be my personal heaven. Except for the nail painting part, definitely not good at that due to some shaky hands. Perhaps I could open a bakery of the same persuasion… And I am also not good at learning other languages so I will have to go somewhere where no one knows any English… details to come.

Baby Bella

Today as I was taking my daily break to gallavant over to my local Office Depot I began to reminisce about my very first automobile. It was a raw fall day with grey skies that had just started to pour out their fury onto the roads below. I woke up early before the rest of the town to become comfortable on the road. Her name was Bella (later to be the red rocket…not because of her speed, but the roaring sound the engine spewed when working to produce speeds over 50 mph). She was a 1991 red Honda Civic standard two door hatchback and I’ve never viewed anything more beautiful. I shared her with an older brother and sister, but once they ditched me for the big Apple she was all mine. On this first day out my nerves got the best of me. I stumbled and stalled, tried to start the car in third gear only to be caught in a fit of rumblings and vibrations. The day ended with a discouraged Marissa and my mom picking me up at the Mobil Station. I was soggy and slightly emotional but the next day I was ready to begin again. This day my desire for the open road outweighed my fear of it. And every day after this I was thrilled by the independence it provided me. Driving through country sides, by the ocean, soothed me and calmed me. To me the car was much more than transportation, but became my sanctuary. It brought me to friends, it housed my music, it soon became covered with clippings and photoes of my icons and interests. Beliefs were displayed on bumpers, excentricities hanging from mirrors. Driving that car made me feel powerful. It was a symbol of my independence. Pumping gas provided me with a feeling of satisfaction and achievement. A car is something different for everyone, a way to get to work, a way to escape from your home office (hypothetically), a status symbol, a way to compensate for your poor self esteem (achem hummer), but back then it was everything, it became and extension of me. Although I love my car now, probably more than most people, nothing compares to that first time I shifted smoothly into second gear, hair blowing in the breeze, tunes blasting to wash out the roaring engine, and most likely nothing ever will.

Airport Valet

I think it is time for me to blog out my newest addiction. It is something so instantly gratifying and exhilerating I am shocked more people aren’t hooked. It is called airport valet and please let me be the first to speak of its merits. I stumbled upon it one day at 6 am as I circled and circled to find a space before my very first business trip. The more I circled the more anxious I became. “Was I truly going to miss the flight of my very first business trip of my entire career??” I was not prepared to let that happen. Suddenly in the distance I saw it through the haze. It was like an epiphany scene from some cheesy daytime soap, but the emotion was real. I felt the world of weight lifted from my shoulders. The kind gentleman opened my door asked when I would return and swooped my car into the safety of the valet only parking spaces. And when I returned I stepped into my already cool car ready to return home. Once I tasted this sweet nectar of parking I told myself I would only use it that once, that I could save bundles by parking in the park and save lot and then take a shuttle to the airport. That is when it hit me…the words business expense dancing in my head… and things haven’t been the same ever since. So children if you can spare the 4 additional dollars a day and if you airport offers valet, I say hand over the keys and save yourself a headache!

whyyy

I also wrote a haiku to fully channel my confusion and angst… which I know I mentioned had subsided, I was saving face.

little friend ducky
no longer here on this earth
dis-int-e-grat-ed

and to think i almost got a kitten

Pictured above is the tragic event I endured just yesterday. After 24 hours of healing I am now ready to blog it out and share with the world (Hi Mom!) my pain. This is what happened. The above left photo features my one and only grow your own rubber ducky. This little trinket magically grows up to 600% of its original size in just 72 hours! How wonderful I thought to myself I shall keep close tabs on his progress and keep a photo journal of his growth. (Side note, the grime featured in my sink is not by any fault of mine but the previous owner of my apartment who has allowed the place to slowly evolve into the decrepid heap in which I now reside) But I digress.. Delighted with Ducky’s growth after 12 hours I decided to feed him fresh water. After refilling his growth sink with some clean hot water I went to continue my gruelling work day. At approximately 5 pm I went to check on Ducky’s progress only to find him in the alarming state pictured above right! I was horrified, why would the big man upstairs take away my only friend in the world???? MY beloved Ducky! After my anger subsided I was disheartened to realize that I could not even grow my own rubber ducky. All I had to do was add water and let it sit for 72 hours. It is so sad to see something you have formed a bond with disintegrate into a tub of water like that. I mean look at his little innocent eyes and baby beak, nobody deserves that. I have a palm tree and I am frightened it too will not make it much longer…fortunately it rains every day so I think it gets watered by itself. I have taken a photograph which I consider to be a metaphor of my pain and confusion over this event. It will be featured in an above post, because it is getting very confusing to add these photos without another one dissapearing…

not my apartment

the below is not actually my apartment…reality is much more peachy…rosy…pale.

And also

The water is yellow.