one on my chest

this writing , me writing, it's a little bit under the influence, but i'm going to do it anyway because i feel like i have to... have to talk through my fingers, because i can't through my mouth. it's a chronic thing, really. but maybe not. i've watched old home movies, i seemed to have talked a lot, liked the spotlight. maybe that hasn't changed. maybe i'm just more unsure of what i have to say. if only i could go back to those days... when everything i said was right.. because my 4-year-old self knew it was right, and my knowledge was all that mattered. now i'm in this place where what other people know matters too. and of course, it's mattered all along.. now i just have to acknowledge it.

anyway, rambling. again. i just finished this book where the main character's sister dies, and it's sad, but sad in a good way. i like sad because it makes me think. but then i closed the book, and i stared at the tv, a blur of high definition racecars rounding the track again and again, the distinct buzz prominent but distant. i literally shook my head, trying to bring myself back to reality.. i said to myself, focus, laura, focus. your parents are in the room. your sister never called on mother's day, has only been to the house once since Christmas, and you know how smoothly that went. now she's said she would come today but hasn't yet. your mother is hurt. your dad is too, he just refuses to show it. your older brother is a dumb(*&^ at best, but at least he's come back. but it still hurts. and what do you do?? how do you tell someone how much they're hurting someone you love without being offensive? without pushing them further away? do you pretend like nothing's happened? do you do nothing? and watch your mother tear up every day? and how do you stay patient through that? how do you ... i mean, god, what do you do? so, this. this is what it's like when someone you love is hurting and you can't do anything about it. awesome. well, i need to get back upstairs or they'll think i'm ignoring them too. that's another thing: my siblings are such fuck ups that i have to be uber careful about what i do, or i'll upset them more. god, life. i love it, i hate it. this is retarded. i'm going back upstairs. i'll probably read this later and wish i hadn't posted it on the gd internet. oh well. when else do i get to be truly honest with people?

oh, and kristen, it's junior brown. that f-ing rocks. look for a star to put on my new car :)

lord, i was born

All right. I’m 23. I feel the same, of course, but only in comparison to the second before I wrote “I feel the same.” If it were a tradition to, say, brand people with the numbers “23” on their asses when they turned 23, then…. then I might feel different. But no, luckily, I live in a semi-civil culture, and that is not the tradition… for humans at least. They may do it to imported Guatemalan pigs or something, I don’t know. And you already know I don’t know if there is such a thing as a Guatemalan pig, nor – if they do exist – if we import them, nor – if they do exist and we import them – if they live to be 23. Anyway, see? I’m the same ramblin girl. I just downloaded Allman Brothers’ Ramblin’ Man… I love it when I find a good song I’ve forgotten about… comparable to the way Jesus felt when he resurrected Lazarus. that's only my best guess though. i didn't really know him. pity, i've heard good things. But I won’t ramble too much more. All I can say is that I had a really..reeaaally good bday weekend. And I can only thank my friends… jello shots, pj, putting up streamers while i'm at work, power hour, police control, highway patrol, late night hot dogs, driving me to the loop after i can't figure out what i want at arby's, movies, bowling, green hats in bushes, exorcising demons.. gah! they make me so happy! Even if they are unsympathetic to me getting older… just because I am still younger… so petty, I swear.

yeah.. 23.. just tryin to make a living and doing the best I can. lord, I hope you’ll understand.

my vacation

i just brushed my teeth after coming home from Hilton Head. and my toothbrush tasted like vodka. that is all. well, also... barnacles!

lesson: breathing is important.

OK, I’m sorry, but I have to comment… this David Blaine thing.. in a breath (no pun): Stupid.

The ABC commentator just quipped, “I don’t think anyone out there thinks David Blaine failed tonight.” Well, uh yeah, hate to break it to you, but … technically, he did. Not trying to be overly cynical… just definitional. I blame his failure purely on stupidity. because I’ve never tried to break a world record, but that’s because I’m not stupid enough to try. David Blaine – very capable of conquering one world record… at a time. Who tries to break 2 world records at one time? One’s not enough for one day? Who thinks, you know what, I think I’m going to attempt to break the record for most time submerged in a gigundo fish bowl in the heart of New York AND.. yes, ANDDDD immediately afterwards, break the record for holding my breath for 9 minutes WHILE unchaining myself from a fish bowl. No worry that I mentioned in a tv interview that, after 5 minutes, it feels like pure torture to not breathe, since I think we’re supposed to do that every second, but by golly, it sounds like a splendid way to spend an otherwise idle week in May. Yes, I have no sympathy. Starving people in Africa = sympathy. Idiot in fish bowl holding his breath = stupid. I mean, David’s cool in his own right… I liked watching him eat glass and take out some girl’s teeth and spit them back in, but cross the stupid line, and you’ve lost me.

Last comment: the whole production was lousy. When Blaine finally came up for air (after 7 freakin minutes – which is nothing short of amazing – I tried to play along… I only got to 45 seconds), his stupid coach says, “hey, you got this, yeah, you’re doing all right, just keep breathing,” in this stupid soothing voice with stupid ‘calming ocean’ music playing in the background. It would’ve been much cooler if, the minute he came up, someone had said, “holy fucking shit man, what the hell?? I only made it 45 seconds, but I mean, you only had 2 minutes to go! ..... good god, you look like shit! have a bad night??”

come to think of it, he prob made a crap load of money, and Disney made him do all that. ok, he gets some stupid points taken off. But not all!

anna nicole smith v. ashlee simpson

things I fear:

• spiders
• big ugly bugs
• ok, most all bugs
• confrontation
• failure
• guns
• muffin-topping (in the verb sense)
• perky sales people
• perky people
• fire
• Anna Nicole Smith (she basically robbed a guy with a shitload of money and claims love as her defense, an intrinsically hard thing to disprove when you have happy home video evidence, she made money making a tv show based on her gaining the equivalent of another person in weight, then she lost it all and looks fabulous again, ALL while radiating the IQ of an amoeba.)
• the last minutes of a close UT football game
• the last seconds of a close Syracuse basketball game
  
• velour
• Katie Couric
• hard rockers that wear excessive amounts of makeup
• my parents’ deaths
• when Mind of Mencia comes on before I can change the channel
• same with Wheel of Fortune
• the 2^nd double red bull and vodka

things I don't fear:

• heights
• rhinoceroses
• water
• fear itself
• big dogs
• flying
• death (dying, maybe; not death)
• Ashlee Simpson (sure, I dislike her, and she is a little scary, but she can’t even successfully order drunk food from Mickie D’s, even with the famous name going for her. Talk about total, utter incompetence.)
• the lochness monster
• the dalai lama
• the bird flu
• things I probably should be afraid of

it's fate that you're reading this

I have a lot of thoughts swirling around… around and around.

1-3: things not shareable in blog

4: is there such a thing as fate? or do we really actually make decisions, and one day we look back at all those decisions, intertwining somewhere to form life, and if we have the luxury of being able to sit and reminisce, we’re probably in an OK place in life, and we see that everything we’ve done, even the really bad decisions, taught us something, and we wouldn’t change anything because that would lead us somewhere different, somewhere uncertain, and the future is already uncertain, so why make the past uncertain too? so we say, yes, things happened for a reason, to make the past certain…

and so it just feels like there’s such a thing as fate?

5-10: more things not shareable in blog

11: “talking to Francis gave me the sensation of settling slowly to the bottom of the ocean.” – Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird.. so funny; I have definitely felt like that before

i am so mysterious.. you so wish you knew what 1-3 & 5-10 are ... mwahaha

the next morning

I woke up this AM wearing my blazer, Claire's red hoop earrings, and my $2 necklace from Body Shop. somehow i had managed to get my shoes & jeans off... the light was still on... you know how it feels when you get so drunk that you wake up the next morning and feel like you just woke up from being dead for a few hours? yeah, that feeling! that was me this morning. i walked out of my bedroom, and there were chips on the floor by my computer desk, which must not have made the long journey from my hand to my mouth... the culprit bag from which they came was lying next to the mess.. that along with the near-empty bottles of hpnotiq and Burnett's lime vodka, neon straws, and leftover raspberry crystal light in my kitchen created some mix of a homeless person/college freshman look. so sweet. my friends and i are not only super pretty, but also ghetto superstars. yesssssss.

oh man, my body hates me! i have to play tennis in an hour, and i'm praying for rain... just the thought of physical exertion right now makes me want to vomit... i think my Emergen-C is helping a little though... my call log is also v. scary.. i can only hope that i left no horrible messages, but that may be hoping for too much.

anyway, thought i would write something, since, upon reflection, i am a little lucky to still be alive and able to write about it unassisted. i did, however, fall UP the stairs to my apartment (i'm sure if my neighbors had any thoughts of me before, they have been confirmed, and i am now regarded as the ditzy drunk asian girl who falls up stairs), and i did think that kristen was a god for curing my hiccups. i was so amazed. cannot explain to you the extent of my awe (although i did have to be reminded of it today). doesn't take much, folks! just a lot of liquor, some Fuel pizza, and some hiccup curing = pure awe .. and no memory. oh god, what did i do?? say?? must call friends and find out...

Hollywood says, the bad guys always drive black cars

OK, so for those of you who don't know yet, here's how i usually work... I write nonsense (word vomit, if you will), proclaim it as truth, and then later realize that it's the bullshit that it is and try to call my bluff before anyone else beats me to it.

So as not to disappoint, here i go again.. I think the power of the Hitler statement caused me to overlook that it's actually not true. Hitler didn't end up keeping all of his promises to the Jews. Now, i'm not totally sure -- because "decades in which alive" are among the things that Hitler and I do not have in common -- but I would have to guess that if Hitler were to make any promise to the Jews, it would be to annihilate them, not to kind of annihilate them. So.. Hitler failed, too. And when i say "too", i mean, along with the people who wanted to save the Jews, aka - the sane people

So let's make 2 distinct groups:
1. The Good Guys (who drive white mini vans... with surround sound DVD players & fold-away 3rd row seats)
2. The Bad Guys (who drive black PT cruisers... with AK47s)

The Good Guys made promises (to each other), had hope, lost hope, lost lives, and were left jaded and emaciated in a harsh reality. The Bad Guys made promises (to the world), had a plan, carried it out, and would have kept their promises if those damn warmonger, invade-other-countries-when-it's-not-their-business Americans hadn't stopped them. (Caution! I am not pro-war! in fact, quite the opposite. Just presenting all the facts.)

All The Good Guys had were faith.. and hope. good things to have, yes (hope is my middle name, so i think i have to believe that, by default), but their false hope proved to be demoralizing more than anything. All The Bad Guys had were an ambitious leader with a well thought-out plan and guns.

Faith & hope v. One insane, determined leader & lots of guns.

And so, the moral: to avoid crazy people taking over the world and killing off humans by categorically (heh, double meaning) deciding they don't belong on earth, speak loudly and carry a big gun.

nacht, nuit, night

yesterday i read elie wiesel's novella Night. it briefly recounts his experience as a 15-year-old living out the Holocaust. yeah... living it out. The Holocaust. It's amazing..... amazing in the worst kind of way because you just... the whole time you just can't believe it ever really happened. can't believe that people could and still can consciously cause that extent of human suffering. what allows for that?? what? what goes wrong that makes wrong seem right to these people? it makes me wary... very wary of what i believe to be right ...

I've been wrong many times before, but sometimes I get so giddy about changing my ways from something wrong that I forget that just because my previous way of thinking was wrong, doesn't mean my current thoughts are right.

This quote is a bit harrowing... I can't decide what I think of it yet, only that it's perhaps one of the most powerful statements I've ever read:
“I have more faith in Hitler than in anyone else. He alone has kept his promises, all his promises, to the Jewish people.”
– said to Wiesel by a dying Hungarian Jew, wearily... stating a fact, no longer caring about opinions..., p.81, Night

switch!

ta da! i have finally made the jump and switched blog spots... Friendster had to go with its obscene advertisements in the middle of my damn posts. Along the side, ok, whatever.. But i am not having michael jackson's face flashing all over the middle of my page! gross! i can't see pictures of him without thinking of little boys.. how jacked up is that?? bastard. you made such good music! your mother must be so ashamed of how you've turned out.

Have been MIA lately -- busy season and no internet and what not (god, if only you knew what "what not" encompasses ... I am limited to what i write for fear of the literate constitution of the audience). Tonight is a brief easing back into blogdom after the sabattical ... Plus I have to iron half my wardrobe so I have something to wear to work. Good times. I hate work clothes. They remind me of work.

By the way, have you ever looked at your teeth? I mean, really taken four fingers and drawn back your lips and looked at them?? you should go find a mirror and try it. so strange... (me and my teeth, yes)

Oh, and quote of the weekend:
"Muslims, Christians, Hindus... it's all the same god.. We just worship that god in different ways." -Victor, our designated crazy cab driver who LOVES us... and is satisfyingly punctual.

and JIC, my old site