Check it out!

You’ve probably been wondering where I’ve been. And the answer is: doing big important things! I am trying to regulate my inner cooling system by doing Bikram yoga (think yoga in a sauna) and also I have created this new blog for my mom! check it out at : http://sockmonkeycreatures.blogspot.com/

My apologies

I received word that I have been letting down my devoted blog readers by not posting regularly. This all started when my computer died and then never really started up again because let’s face it I don’t have a whole lot going on to write about. Prior to my graduation I envisioned my summer days jam packed with wholesome activities ranging from biking to baking. An article in Food and Wine inspired me to take up cheese making and I planned to start with soft ricottas and goats before moving on to harder cheddars and parmesans. I planned to start each day greeting the sun with yoga and meditation and end with meaningful and pensive walks along the beach. I planned to write poetry and drink lattes at independent coffee shops. I was going to start eating only pure and organic foods. Well needless to say it’s the end of week two and all I have managed to do is keep a special place on the couch pretty warm for about 15 hours out of each 24. I tried to keep busy I even planned to go to a yoga class with a friend. But just the thought of it exhausted me. I think I realized I am not cut out for actual activity. In fact I have adapted quite nicely to my new lifestyle. Today for example, I rose at about 1 pm and enjoyed a bowl of cereal with my parents. I then retired to my couch area to watch a Red Sox game, which was actually rained out so I fell back on my contingency plan (see I am a well prepared TV viewer) and began to watch several hours of the Food Network. At this point I became exhausted and decided to head up to my boudoir for a short nap. A few hours later I prepared some dinner and returned to the TV for two Lifetime movies and some Saturday Night Live. Fortunately it was a delightful episode from the past which features a favored digital short that I featured on the blog several posts ago. Although this may not seem like much to others I am quite proud of my accomplishments. In my two post graduate weeks I have not yet been fired from my job, turned to cocaine, attempted rape or suicide, or turned into a stalker. According to a fine film from a fine decade (St. Elmo’s Fire) these are sensible outcomes of post graduate confusion so I figure I am doing alright! And I was also just diagnosed with a severe disease, which I have concluded gives me the exclusive right to laze about for at least a few more days. And once I am all healed I am quite certain that I will be doing all sorts of nutrient dense, intellectually stimulating, and world improving activities and I will certainly be keeping the world posted via the blog.

An Amendment to My Life is Over

I know I previously said that my life is over in my past post. And that resulted in some concern from Dad. But lately I have been saying a lot of things that I don’t mean. For example when people say Congratulations about graduation and I smile and say “Thank you it’s so exciting”. This is a lie. Typically “This is so exciting” in actuality means “This is so scary I could hyperventilate and pass out”. Another favorite is when I say “It is time to move on”. What this actually means is “I never want to move on ever and if you bring up the fact that it is time to move on again I may a) hyperventilate and pass out or b) break out into hysterics which you will have the responsibility of quelling over several sniveling hours.” Another is when I say “Well at least we had a great 4 years.” Although I do know in the back of my mind that I will mean this in the future, for the time being this means, “I wish I would have spent more time in a chemistry lab or in the library instead of enjoying every second of these past four years because then maybe I wouldn’t be this devastated that they are over.” The parents have assured me that I will not actually be crying for the rest of my life and I will not need a life time of therapy for the pain I am suffering. At first did not believe them. The thought that I won’t be able to walk out of my front door and know at least 10 people walking bye had me plummeting quite rapidly. That I won’t be able to meet up with friends in seconds. That I will once again be anonymous. That I will actually have to start over. All of these thoughts convinced me I will never get over the loss of college comfort. But, then I reconsidered. I filed through my years of experiences and memories and remembered a similar, much more intense fear that I felt before coming to Cornell. Change is not a favorite of mine. I am quite content with routine in an elderly retirement lifestyle sort of manner. (Breakfast at 9, walk at noon, bingo at 2, bridge at 4…) But you know what, with my chameleon like tendencies I know everything will be okay. I’ll be salsa dancing and tanning before I know with the best of them. And although all I can think about is the Will Smith ditty, I think I’ll do just fine. Bienvenido a Miami baby!!!

My Life is Over

Since this past summer there are two comments/ questions that I receive from the general public on a daily basis. These people, once finding out I am graduating from college, undoubtably ask what my plans are for next year. This is a completely logical and polite question. What I don’t appreciate is the alternative comment. The painful look and the sucking in of breath as the commenter states, “Well I hope you enjoy the rest of your time.” It’s as if I am terminally ill, with only a few more weeks to live. And I don’t know if its because they rubbed off on me or not, but this is how I feel. This morning I accepted a job offer and as of June 5th, my life is officially over. For a while there I was quite content to pretend that college was actually going to go on forever. That I would never actually have to leave this little oasis of non stop fun having. But the realization that I now have to make money instead of continuing to consume it has finally struck. Needless to say, this is a bummer. So if I am a bit touchy, its because more and more each day this is sinking in and I am not happy about it.

i don’t know why i don’t leave

For those of you that don’t know I have been involved in an extremely abusive relationship this year. This guy has been controlling, selfish, and flighty and I just can’t seem to leave. His name is ipod and though every other day I get so frustrated I need to meditate for hours to rid myself of the trouble he has caused, I just can’t seem to forget all of the good times. I can’t push away all of the times he walked me to my job this summer whispering beautiful melodies in my ear. The times he tuned out all of the barbaric 50 year old frat boys on the train. The times he went to the gym with me gently encouraging me to run faster and work harder. I can’t forget how he drops me off at hotel school every morning getting me pumped up for each day of note taking and studying. He tunes out all of the background noise in the library and helps motivate me to take my morning walk/runs. He also has this way about him. He knows when I need to hear some soothing music after I’ve had a bad day. He knows when I need to add a little bounce to my step. He knows when I am feeling romantic and when I need to get out some aggression. These are what I choose to remember overall. I somehow forget about the times when he refuses to play anything but Phish. The times that he crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue and refuses to turn on. I try to get him back, I push all combinations of his four buttons but that face just keeps staring at me and laughing. I forget how many times he has left at weeks at a time and comes back with no memory of all of my music and preferences. It’s as if he doesn’t even know me anymore. He just looks at me with a blank stare as I plug him in and we start all over again. Then there are the times on my 6 hour bus trips to CT that he refuses to sing to me at all. I am forced to listen to the mundane chatter and the bullshit whining of the sniveling misfits that surround me. Then there are the times when he tricks me by starting a song and then 30 seconds into it he freezes. During these moments and weeks when he is gone I feel lost and alone. Everyone walks around me with their headphones dangling, their hips swaying to the sweet music playing in their ears. And at night I cry because the music in my life is gone. Recently he left me and I cried these tears. I thought it may be over; I was going to call it quits for good. I had a plan, an escape route. As I was about to make the fateful phone call he came back to life and just like that I let him back into my life to fill my days with his harmonious music. And once again all of his sins were forgotten. And I have now embarked on this abusive cycle once again. I figure that when is here it is good enough to make up for all of the bad he has done, and that is good enough for me.

Long awaited new post

Things about me that may not know…

1. My computer crashed, thats why there are no new posts
2. I don’t have any plans for next year, so don’t ask
3. I don’t want plans for next year, unless they include not graduating
4. I like to eat food so spicy that I have to pass out on the couch before going back for more
5. I get hot flashes, not conducive to the spicy food addiction, I am often very hot
6. I love Semi Homemade on the foodnetwork and often times wish I could make tablescapes as beautiful as Sandree Lee… I especially like the Easter one with bunny lollipops
7. When I get scared walking home alone at night I often play in my head what the Unsolved Mysteries guy would say about me. i.e. “Marissa was walking home alone one night after a strenuous library work shift…and she was never seen again.”
8. Everytime I drive past a car with a George Bush sticker I have to get a good look inside the car…just to see what they look like…
9. I always pretend like I am in a movie and I constantly play a soundtrack as I walk places
10. I love the taste of the Eucharist (sorry if you are offended by this, get over it I am appreciating the lord jesus in my own way)
11. If you ever say something bad about my friends or family I will kill you, I know I have successfully tricked maybe 2 people into thinking I am nice, I am not.
12. When I was little I wanted to be a bathroom designer, not truly sure why
13. My ultimate life goal is to raise Jewish children, (perhaps the ultimate Catholic rebellion) I have already started saving for their bar/bat mitzvahs.
14. The only food I don’t like is pickled herring
15. My other ultimate life goal is to be a Jewish Grandmother… I want to play with the little tots without raising them. And I want to spoil them with too much kugel.

Diversity!!!

I was reading a book the other day called Rebel Rules. Its a kitschy little rule book on how to break the rules without breaking the bank. ( I just came up with that tag line on the fly believe it or not). One of its thought provoking chapters is entitled Diversity is a Potluck. I figured I would like this chapter since it was about one of my favorite topics, potlucks!!! Turns out the book was still about entrepreneurship and not suddenly a cookbook, however it still made me think. It spoke of how important it is for work forces to be diverse as a whole new wealth of ideas is introduced and a diverse company represents its diverse client base. As I was reading the chapter I was completely in agreement with all the points. I thought how refreshing that a company is breaking the corporate mold and actually realizing that diversity is not only politically correct, but beneficial to all parties involved. People from different racial, economic, geographic, and religious backgrounds help bring new perspectives when solving problems and brainstorming ideas. Different beliefs and work methods can help a company relate to all different needs and desires of consumers. This was great I thought, diversity is unbelievable. It is true that often times I look at my life and realize that I am surrounded by those similar to me. But when I am surrounded by those that aren’t I feel so refreshed. I find that at Cornell, even though some say it does not live up to the melting pot Ezra may have imagined, I am surrounded by so many people that I have never been exposed to before. I have never been anywhere else where billionares from Singapore comingle with working class Midwesterners. International students hail from Korea, Taiwan, India, New Zealand, Turkey, Germany, Switzerland… of course the list goes on. To me Cornell University is basically an after school special on diversity. That is when I realized, I am the least diverse person in the whole entire world. I hail from the Northeast where chains such as El Pollo Loco admitadly don’t even exist because we don’t really know what Mexican food is. I have an intact family that I talk to on a regular basis. I am an ex Catholic raised in a world that preaches its overbearing principles by dictating and guilting. I am whiter than a ghost. I can’t even get a sun tan, I turn from fire engine red to decreasing shades of pink. It was a big shock for me to move to Connecticut and learn what a Ba/Bart Mitvah was. This was a large cultural awakening for me as I also learned what a Country Club and a trust fund were. I am ashamed to admit that the only language I know is English. Fortunately, this seems to be the universal language of business, but this does not make it any more acceptable. I don’t have any exotic pets, except for a beta fish… I don’t have any special skills, I can’t even do a cartwheel. What do I bring to the diversity potluck?? I am the salt free, butter free, powder mash potatoes that no one eats anyway, unless they ate something too spicy that needs to be subdued. This is a very depressing thought for me. I often times daydream about being Jewish and being Bat Mitvahed or being from another country with a rich history of turmoil and culture. Sometimes I wish I could be the curry or the cous-cous at the potluck. I guess I shouldn’t be ashamed of my roots. So I have no cultural perspective. Whats wrong with some bland mashed potatoes here and there, I guess sometimes one’s tongue does get a bit too hot and the mashed potatoes could really help cool it down. And what harm do they do even if not. Especially since it should be known that the mashed potatoes really enjoy the company of its neighboring Vermicelli, Ghoulash, and Empanadas. And that the mashed potatoes often wishes she could transform into a little ghoulash herself, pehaps with tiny dumplings…or even just add a little butter, some sour cream, and maybe even bacon bits to her own mashed potatoes.

Spring BREAK!!!!

This morning I woke up to find out someone stole my swiss cheese, and my Screaming Hot Salsa. It is Spring Break and rather than joining the rest of Cornell in Puerto Rico I am here in scenic Ithaca. It is fairly desolate, but last night I had the good fortune of meeting Pedro from the first floor. He seemed like a good kid. And mother nature has been pretty good to my by providing the most frigid horrifying weather in months. Hey who else gets to celebrate her “last opportuntiy to make mistakes” as my boss so tactfully put it, with 150 mph winds, snow/hail, and temperatures in the teens? Today was thrilling. First I laminated signs that urged people to not eat in the library, then I shelved a few books, then I threw away some periodicals. At this point I was exhausted so I determined it was time for my half hour lunch break during which I journeyed over to another library to pick up seasons 3 and 4 of Sex and the City. I then returned back to my own library to physically measure each bookshelf with a yardstick. After this thrilling day I knew I was in need of some serious decompressing. Fortunately, even though no one is actually in Ithaca, there are still gym classes. And finally, for the first time since my seven week course is over, I was able to go to Spinning Power Hour with Mike. It was just as good as I remembered. We spun to the N’Sync mix, it was endurance ride. We got the movie review, he saw some Tim Allen movie. He commended us for spinning instead of visiting the all you can eat dessert buffet. Everything was exactly as I remembered. As I trudged home in the sub-zero weather, with wind whipping down my face and neck, as a tumble weed blew down the path ahead of me, I realized everything was okay. God bless Mike and his flowing rattail, his Monday movie review, and his N’Sync mix. Thank god that at least one part of my life is predictable and there is something I know that no matter how long I am away, things will be exactly the same.

I love babies

I love babies. I love them so much that no matter what type of mood I am in, they always make me happy. I could be plummeting into an abyss thinking my life is over and if I happen to look up and see a baby, this feeling immediately melts away. I love all babies, girl babies, boy babies, black babies, Asian babies, all kinds of babies. I especially love fat babies, the fatter the better. I love their little rolls, their rosy cheeks, and their fuzzy hair. I love when they cry, I love when they laugh, and I love when they sleep. I love baby puppies, kittens, all babies. I love babies, I love life, I love my family with all my heart. I think that every time a baby is born, it is a miracle from God. I think it is truly a beautiful thing. As much as I believe this with all of my heart, I don’t believe that all babies should be born. I am truly saddened by South Dakota’s motion to ban most abortions in their state. Excluded from the exceptions in this ban are victims of rape and incest. This truly hurts me deep down inside of my soul. I wish that everyone could truly understand the pain and agony an unwanted baby can bring. Do the people approving this ban truly know what it feels like to bear the baby of one’s own rapist? Do they understand what its like to be the unwanted child in an orphanage? Do they know the kind of psychological pain and damage this can cause? Furthermore, do they understand what kinds of means people will turn too once a safe legal abortion is not an option? Is there any proof that making abortion illegal will make abortion go away? I understand that people need to be responsible and that precautions can be taken in order to prevent pregnancy. I fully support safe informed sex. However, is there no room for error? I understand that some people may disagree that this is a decision caused by religious persuasion, but pro- life supporters remind me of the one and only Catholic service I have been to in over 6 years. In this service I was slightly curious about the option of returning to the faith. At this service I was informed that the word of Jesus is the law I am to follow. When following this law there is no “wiggle” room. There is no room for error. Either one follows the word of the lord, or one is not Catholic. I left this mass feeling defeated and irate. How is it that there is no room for human error, no room for life? Laws such as the ban in South Dakota are unrealistic and oppressive. Removing options from desperate women will only lead to desperate measures. I wish at times that people could step away from their rigid beliefs and account for a measure of humanity and life, allow for some wiggle room, accept that mistakes are made. Should children have to pay for these mistakes? Should lives have to be compromised in order to follow a morale code that makes little sense? Is a life filled with agony and despair better than no life at all? I am not saying I have these answers, but I think that women should be able to make these decisions for themselves and the lives that they create. In the wild animals eat their babies if they are contaminated by a predator. Should a victim of an unwanted pregnancy be able to make a similar decision? I want to say once more how much I appreciate the gift of life a child can bring to the world. I truly am amazed by the gift I have as a woman to produce such a gift. But I can’t imagine what I would do if I had no other option that to birth a child at this point in my life. Because I think I can safely say that it would be a disaster.

Rock Paper Scissor Shoot

Last night, during an exceptionally important tournament of rock, paper, scissor, shoot(RPSS from here on out) I had a bit of an epiphany. After losing pretty badly to some girl named Jenna, it occured to me that I had not played this childhood favorite for years. It was used quite often as a deal breaker of sorts. It determined who would hide and who would seek, who got to jump first during jump rope, who got to do basically anything fun and or powerful ever. Sometimes we would use the one potato 2 potato method or the eenie meanie, but often times RPSS would be the prevailing decision making device. Whatever happened to this beautiful method…when did it phase out. I honestly don’t remember, it just left me one day as if in a dream. I sold it at a tag sale along with my skip – it and care bear collection. When did things start being solved differently? And on a slightly different note when did RPS shooting turn into gun shooting. I was thinking the other day about being raised. My parents taught me always try and work out problems by discussing them. If I fought with my brother and sister ( which I did) I would be punished. If I was ever violent I was reprimanded and we would try to work out my anger issues. In kindergarten when I fought I was sent to the principal’s office. All throughout life violence is discouraged as a means to work out conflict. Why then do we so often resort to violence in order to settle disputes? Why does the government send our citizens to fight in a war to supposidly work through disagreements? Why do we not only act violently, but actually kill others in order to work through change? I don’t understand what is different from when we were children. Why is it not okay for me to hit my sister because she won’t let me play with her but it is okay to shoot someone because we don’t like their government’s policies? It seems beyond primitive to me… why has so much progress been made elsewhere in society, yet this barbaric method of conflict resolution remains? It almost makes more sense to RPS shoot it out… which if it is done in Ithaca for the next few days… may win you a trip to Vegas as a bonus!