21 06 2010

It’s almost 5 in the morning. The lady had a pre-Miami freak out and fell asleep. So here I am smoking and blogging for no reason but that I’m awake, I guess.

So what am I worried about?

I’m worried I’m going to become the withdrawn, cowardly little shit I used to be.

And I have the beer shits.


Shit I wanna do

4 06 2010

I think I should set a goal for this list, say, that it will be 100 items long. I think that’s doable. A of all, it will keep me busy, make me think (about fun things) and B of all I’m pretty positive there are easily 100 things I’d like to do this summer.

This won’t be a checklist, but more of a vague guideline. And what will be great is that I can consult it on days when I’m bored and out of ideas. Yessssss


100 Things I Want To Do This Summer Or Whatever:

1. Crab cookout. Just at the casa or whatever. Lots of beer and good people.
2. BOOZY SMOOTHIE PARTY. So excited about this. Pajamas and trash talk.
3. Ocarina of Time Day. Broccoli meatball pizza.

Dear god, we’re at 3 and I’m already faltering. It’s the conceptual weight of 100 things. I will not be deterred.

4. Have a barbecue. Chicken, pineapple, corn, shrimp, chorizo, peppers….everything.
5. Ride bikes. Through the city. In the park. Up the drive. Whatever.
6. READ. A lot. Stuff for next semester and fiction and poetry.
7. Write everyday. Just something. A blog post, a poem, a journal. And hopefully a paper or something academic-y.
8. Go to a water park. Just added that one because I saw a picture of someone at a water park. But there’s nothing not great about water parks, so shut your hole.
9. Lay in the park. This will be perfect to couple with reading, writing, tanning, or some of the other things that will end up on this list. Napping optional.
10. Hang out in an arcade. Preferably at the beach. Play lots of table games. Kick ass at air hockey.
11. Swim in pools. Lackman. Sellersville. Cannonballs. Friends. All that shit.
12. Go to the zoo. Fucked up. Why not?
13. Hang out at Logan’s Circle. Get in the damn fountain. That’s right.
14. Boosh-a-thon. This is happening. Hookah. Legend of Milky Joe.
15. Eat hot dogs. Like, really good hot dogs. Of many varieties. Not sure why. Sounds delicious though. Spicy brown mustard.
16. Go to Sister’s. For the hell of it. One last time. Hopefully with Neesha and Thiala/Camilla.
17. Go to Scene. Damn that was a bumpin party.
18. Stoner movie days. Hotbox. Sneak in bougie food. Possibly wine. Enjoy the AC. Repeat.
19. Read a newspaper. Who knows how much longer they’ll be around?
20. Bake stuff. Whatever. Yummy stuff.
21. Cook. A lot. Follow recipes (huh?).
22. See the mysterious watering hole in Valley Green. WANT.
23. Play barely-organized sports. Hackey-sack, chink, frisbee, dodgeball, hit a baseball, kick a soccer ball, etc.
24. Miyazaki marathon. Must do this.
25. See a concert. Why not? I never do this. Might be fun.
26. Drink smoothies. Make ’em, buy ’em, I want ones with peanut butter and coffee and craziness. Also, avocado shakes.

All right. 26 – whatever. Got bored. Posting this anyway. I can always update it.

…Annnd we’re back! No news on for how long, but I have at least one additional entry. I’ll stick around and see what hits me.

27. Life of Mammals marathon. Talk to me, David Attenborough. About the animals.
28. Get 1am Pretzels. They’re the best. Eat ’em hot, buy in bulk, and pan-toast the shit out of them the next morning.
29. Have a music-sharing gathering. There’s a lot of people’s music I’m going to want before I leave. Sit, smoke, listen, share, chill. Repeat.
30. Buy fresh produce. At the Italian market, or the farmer’s markets, or the produce trucks. Cook with it.
31. “No apparent reason” pub crawl. Submitted by the girl. Hokay.
32. Go to NYC. For a day? Two? Stay with Priscilla? Drinking.
33. Go to the beach. As often as possible. How did I miss this one in numbers 1-32?
34. Day drinking. In the house or walking around town. Preferably starting soon after I wake up.
35. Sleep. Get back into the practice of the art I perfected as a part-timer.
36. Get water ice. And gelatos. And ice cream. And all manner of yummy summer treats. They make a great breakfast.
37. Visit all of my spots. For a last hurrah.
38. Find some new spots. Go exploring.
39. Cash in on my roof time from Kim Murray. Necessary.
40. Play cards. Big games, little games, fortune-telling, all-day games.
42. Sit at cafes. Look pretentious. Sip coffee. Judge from afar.
43. Impromptu dance party. When the mood to Dj strikes…
45. Go inner tubing down the river. I have always wanted to do this.
46. Play mini-golf. Otherwise what kind of summer would that be, exactly?
47. Sangria. Only one word necessary.
48. Get really good at Photoshop. Or something. Must prepare for long-distance image wars.
49. Play beer-pong. Because this seems like a life experience a 25-year-old should have under their belt.
50. Go on a hike. Rickett’s Glenn maybe?

OKAY! After a week of spotty work, I have finally made it to 50. I feel accomplished. Only half as accomplished as I wanted to feel, but still. Pressing forward…

well, blog, here we are again.

3 06 2010

I don’t know why it hasn’t occurred to me – or, rather, has only infrequently occurred to me – to post here this past week. As I observed once on some blog, maybe not this one, my posting seems to pick up in frequency and length when I am for some reason unhappy. (Yay, writing). So in a big way, it’s a good thing that I’ve been slacking on my blogging duties.

I’ve also been getting a good deal of other work done. Budgeting for one. In spite of the fact that I may end up coming up short this summer it will be by far, far less than I’ve been anticipating. In large part because I intend to exercise my option to withdraw the money from my 401k. All in all, the outside support I’ll need for everything from living expenses here to the move should come up to no more than a few hundred dollars – and I may be able to avoid borrowing money from my Dad altogether if I get my shit together and apply for a credit card. Which I’ve been meaning to do anyway. For, like, years.

The manner and timing of my departure has also been decided, and I really couldn’t be more pleased. My girl is going to drive down with me, and we’ll have a 4-day layover in Columbia with Rich before we head the rest of the way to Miami. The stress and anxiety I might have about leaving will be drastically mitigated by looking forward to this mini-vacation, and by knowing my girl will be with me right up until the last moment.

And for whatever reason – I don’t know what’s changed in the past week or so – the part about being left alone in Miami just doesn’t seem quite so huge right now. After all, saying “See you in a few months” just isn’t the same as saying goodbye.

I’m sure more anxiety and panic is still to come, but for now I’m just happy to feel saner about the whole thing.

Part of it, I’m pretty sure, is the ever-nearer end of my employment here. Coming in every day, while it does still suck, feels sort of like the last days of the school year now. My morning commute is just a sunny drive spent mulling over the seemingly endless possibilities for fun and recreation that await me only 6 days, 2 hours and 55 minutes from now. Everything seems to be opening up. And for right now, Miami feels like a big part of that.

A while ago my girl said to me that she thought she was lucky to have met me at this particular point in my life, and I think she’s right. In spite of how much it sucks to have such a good thing and know that I can’t stick around in quite the usual way, if I wasn’t leaving then there would be no count down to leaving work. There would be no tiny hope of a future for me that isn’t at this job – hell, there wouldn’t even be a break in the cards since I used up all of my PTO in the first 4 months of this year.

I would just be that same, directionless stoner, a waste of potential, and totally in the dark about what my life was supposed to be. And as much as it will suck to leave what I have here behind, it would suck so much worse if what I had here was all I had going for me. That’s definitely not a healthy way to be in a relationship.

But who the fuck knows? I’d be willing to bet if I wasn’t admitted to grad school I would never have acted on this crush in the first place. Direction and meaning in life, man. You never know what it’ll inspire you to do.

As for the way things ARE…they’re great. We’ve progressed past the point of feeling constantly emotionally vulnerable. And we’re learning to read each other much better, be more patient with each other, and to be able to tell the difference between things that are a big deal and things that just need to be let go. (And, yeah, by “we” I do mean mostly me.)

She continues to be just great. And to think I’m just great, apparently. Ah, the mutual ego-stroking that is love. Such a sweet thing.

So I could babble some more about how much I love just being near her, looking at her, talking to her. Or about all the amazing things I hope to accomplish, all the good times I intend to have between now and when I depart, but the conclusion is all the same.

I’m happy. I’m frequently ecstatic, even. I’m unbelievably lucky, luckier than I ever even suspected, and I have a lot of faith in my luck. Shit is pretty damn good.

still got it.

28 05 2010

So, the blogging everysingleday thing hasn’t panned out quite that literally. So go ahead and die of shock.

Whatever. I have tonsillitis (again), so suck it. I’m allowed to skip a few days. But man, you invisible but no doubt numerous and vast readers are FUCKING INSATIABLE I SWEAR.

I am in high spirits, I would say, in spite of the overwhelming quantity of gunk in my general facial area. I started the day irritable, very BLAH, put out by the fact that Ste and Deb and my girl were all chilling at my casa while I was at work, on top of my sickness woes and of course the prospect of a never-ending Friday shift.

But look here, the shift is now more than halfway over, and now it’s only a few hours until I pick up my girl and head back to Stephen’s birthday festivities. A few hours of boredom and ruing-the-day, to be sure, but only a few.

I spent the last couple of hours rewriting a cover letter – of sorts – for the girl. So not only do I feel somehow productive and helpful (things I never feel at work), I also got to obsess over professional wordplay!!

It’s like killing time playing a flash game only with real-life skills!! So much fun. And, for your reference, I’ve still got it.

The giant, pendulous brain-dick, I mean.

And in looking-on-the-bright-side news, 10 days, 3 hours and 12 minutes remain of my employment at this fresh hell.

This is sort of a series of random thoughts, no? A babbling? The babbling. Oh, the babbling. Well, fuck off, that’s what this blog is here for. My babbles. My bloggles, my babbles. It’s my blog and I’ll blab if I want to.

I’m done.

body hurt.

25 05 2010

Dear blog:

It is my intention to write in you every day (well, every weekday) between now and when I embark on my grad school learnin.

However today I am feeling quite sick, tired, achey all over, congested and even slightly nauseous from time to time (although this may be due to my aversion to eating my lunch. C’est la vie.) So please consider this my daily contribution.

Though it be devoid of real content or feeling. The only thing I can think of right now is my girl, and her offer to take care of me, and the minutes left to go before I can get that show on the road.

Because I hurt. All over. And I have that weak feeling. And I’m tired. And a little cold. And my girl is stunningly beautiful, and sweet, and warm, and has offered to make me soup.

So though I do worry about possibly needing to call out of work tomorrow with only 13 days, 1 hour and 8 minutes left to go of my employment here, all I really have to offer at this time is:

Come onnnn, 9pm.


burning at both ends

24 05 2010

It’s Victoria Day or some crap in Canada, so there ain’t shit happening at work. Which is bonzer, because some jackass rebooted my system and now I have to use two separate keyboards and mice for my two computers. Which is balls.

My weekend was good, albeit far too short as always. Every Monday morning brings a bit of incredulity, lying in bed, tangled up, warm, and wondering how the fuck it can be Monday again and what happened to the last 48 hours. Even though I had a lovely weekend. Breakfast with Stephen on Saturday, dinner at the ‘rents’, and a lazy, lazy Sunday cooped up with my girl.

And it was that kind of spittly grey out that you just can’t feel too bad about hiding away. Although we did take a walk to get frozen Chais (btw: REVELATION).

It’s the easy goodness of it all that makes Monday morning that much more harsh. That, and her arms tight around my neck, and the way she buries her cheeks in mine…

…when you’re next to someone it can be so hard to get out of bed sometimes, as if you were drugged by their curves and their body heat…

That’s from Stephen Elliot, the editor for the Rumpus, whose daily email updates swing back and forth between lovely journals and standard newsletters. That was a good one. In that way that words are good when you read them serendipitously at that moment in your life when they’ll resonate with you most strongly.

It’s our 2 month anniversary today.

Or something. Calling something an anniversary after only 2 months seems a little…I don’t know, cheesy? Or maybe not quite right? In more than just the strict-interpretation-of-the-terminology type way. Although I’m not sure why.

Nothing felt cheesy to me about the moment when she told me she wanted me, wanted to turn in her ring, wanted to know when our anniversary is. Nothing feels cheesy about having a reason to treat her dinner. To search the terms of her smile from across the table, twinkling in the low light.

It’s just that clocks are ticking in both of my ears. One is gentle, even, almost melodious like dripping water, but steadying like a metronome. The other is slow, still, but each day I notice that moment where the beat picks up, just a millisecond faster, I break a sweat.

Two months gone by means two months remaining, more or less. And I’m doing my best not to think about the implications. I’m scared of where I’ll be without her, for sure. More or less scared than I would have been on my own? There’s no way to tell. There will be no way to tell, in fact, until I am in the middle of it, dealing. For this reason I am confident that my conscious efforts not to worry on it are justified. I’d so much rather enjoy the time I have left than sweat what will happen when I run out.

It is hard, though. Knowing that the moment will come when I’ll be out of time, all of a sudden, and then I won’t be here anymore, and she won’t be with me anymore, and all I’ll have of this time is the wondering where it’s gone.

And, irrationally, I know that will feel like oblivion. (Sort of like these shifts, but the days won’t end with her wrapped around me.)

I’ll have to remember how else to drift off to sleep.

Come on, Friday, pick up ya feet.

21 05 2010

These shifts are tiny eternities.

I know they’ve always felt that way – ever since I started those overnight shifts, with no one awake to chat to, everyone wheedling me for being suddenly unavailable for late night partying – but somehow they seem even longer, day by day, the closer I get to not working here anymore.

And while in on the one hand it is a HUGE relief to have an end in sight – and a getaway to look forward to at the end of it all! – the other hand is just metaphorically beating my head into the desk with impatience. It’s that know…it’s great to have something to daydream about. But daydreaming about summer and freedom just makes me feel even more trapped here in my florescent cave.

This room: it’s hideous. Everything’s gray, and it’s cold, and cackling with staticky police scanners. My heart strains against my chest with joy at the thought of never fucking seeing it again.

So, being that I have no option but to sit here in my ergonomically-designed office chair and stare at my 4 monitors under the pretense of doing something productive for the next…let’s see…15 days, 4 hours and 11 minutes, let’s delve a little deeper into this reverie, shall we?

First of all, I get to kick off my 6 weeks of freedom from employment with an epic stoner road trip with my girl. It’ll be really neat to have a chance to be away from…jesus, from everything. From the city, from work pressure, from the everyday. To go biking and eat ice cream out in the boonies of Vermont and have no obligations to anyone or anything but each other. To not have to worry about the width of the walls.

To finally unwind, free of the burden of knowing work awaits me on Monday. To unwind for real, knowing that for the coming 6 weeks it will in fact do me no good whatsoever to be wound.

But mostly, just to have the chance to drink in the present. Such a thing is easier said than done when you work all the time. And by then I will only have 6 weeks of the present left to drink in in Philadelphia. With my friends and my family and my girl.

Pretty girl.

(Yes, it’s all like that. I believe I told you I lose my damn mind.)

I am determined to make the most of every moment. To give this city and this era of my life the send-off it so richly deserves. To head off for Miami knowing exactly how lucky I am, all I have, secure in the knowledge that I could not have cherished it all any better than I did.

Basically, to party like I have never partied before.

Winky face.