plink [chicago]

i think i found a new reason to write.

2011-11-29T15:37:00.001-05:00

Heather Lumb: i'm so completely taken with you. every chance i get to be next to you is unbelievable. ugh
drew@groupon.com: you are so fucking sweet.
Heather Lumb: i'm so fucking in love.
drew@groupon.com: it's pretty fantastic.
Heather Lumb: i think so!!!
drew@groupon.com: you surprise me everyday too, you know.
Heather Lumb: ? no.
drew@groupon.com: yeah, you do.
drew@groupon.com: i saw glimpses of what this could be like the first time i looked at you.
drew@groupon.com: and now you're proving them true, and it's fucking beautiful.

a saturday morning cartoon.

2011-10-15T13:57:00.000-04:00

i'm trying for this, and so far it's been easy, just because i realize how low i had sunk. what isn't easy is realizing that i can't control how people perceive what i'm doing or that this is most likely of the utmost importance. i feel that i'm on the border of something good, but it's people that are holding me back from really diving in. they're important people. they're the ones that matter. or the one that matters. i embarrassed myself, unknowingly (and still to this day i'm just taking word for it), and i lost something that could have been amazing. what's keeping me on track is knowing that it was needed. it never would have gotten better had i not fallen face first. never would have improved had i not been given each woken moment with this immense feeling of guilt and shame. walk of shame, i own you.
i ended it. i did. but it's not like that week didn't happen. it happened. and i'm doing everything to make myself right to get that level of happiness back again...just this time i'm going to be able to handle it. whoever is there to enjoy it with me isn't the point; the fact that i know i will be in control is.

it just really fucking sucks that he doesn't see i'm giving up birthday parties, habits, friends and amazing times to prove i know i fucked up and i'm fixing it. maybe i was right about him all along.

26

2011-09-14T10:18:00.001-04:00

I finally feel my age. I feel much better now, and my apartment has been transformed. Off to write for WTFRUW. Fall is chilly and I like it. Happy. Finally.

congrats!

2011-09-08T15:04:00.001-04:00

i'm officially done. fuck the beatles, your white chucks, your ridiculous lies, your lame excuse for just about everything. fuck you. have fun with the next one. dick.

"you'll get over it" - false negative

2011-09-06T21:00:00.000-04:00

this is fucking miserable. like i saw some twisted alterna-life mirror in front of me and fell into it. nothing feels the same, even the air smells different. it's all different. smiles are fake, the panic attacks don't stop, i shake so hard i drop wallets and keys, vomit up nothing, can only eat once a day and only in four bites. what is this. he said i'd "get over it", he said he didn't want me to feel anything...i guess in a weird way i don't feel anything. when every single emotion and expression and passion is taken from you, do you actually ever feel anything? i was wrapped up more than i thought i was, and now i'm so unraveled and ridiculous i don't know what the hell to do. i can't even write. read this shit, it doesn't even make sense. nothing is anywhere remotely the same. and i hate it.

The Stages Are Prepared, Honey

2011-08-05T00:08:00.000-04:00

But I am writing more, I thought, as we discussed hobbies and how I just "don't do them". They end up as scrawled little messages on appropriate things, like four or six different notebooks (since I'm absent-minded and tend to forget them, you see), Post-Its, or emails to myself, borrowed sheets of clean (or half-clean) papier, or anything really that can hold a vent or muse or bullshit.

I write about all I know. Narcissism. And it's fuckin' fine. I write about myself--my thought processes, what I'm looking at, who I'm looking at, what they should be doing in this situation but aren't because they're dumb-fucks, words of advice to those without my common sense, apologies to those I've hurt and not really cared enough to fix, my life plan that exists of nothing but risk and boredom and excuses and desire. Man....I could write on an on about myself. Welcome to life. We all fucking do it. This blog about this passion, this photo-evangelist who has pictures only of their own style (tee-hee, yeah you can copy me), political preservationists and righteousness and-- AWESOME!!! We have advice. Don't say no one ever taught you how to do ________.

But loving yourself is hard to learn from.

So anyway. I write. I tap keys or scrawl up and down with a pen. And if you didn't know, yes I am fucking particular about my pen. I like dark, black, intentional. No Bic. I have yet to find a Bic.

This entry isn't for documenting. I guess it's a nod at acknowledging. I DO love writing. About myself, of course, but words.....are my enigma. I saw a show tonight--an art show (bwahahahahaha that sounds awesome reading out loud), with a poster that said "You Are Nowhere". The beautiful thing that only seemed to impress me (I secretly hope that others were secretly as giddy) was that it read "You Are Now Here".....with arrows and juxtapose whatever it was solid. I loved it. I wanted it. No, I wanted to think I thought of it first. I love words. It's all perception and this is your playground or your forte or who knows? Who cares? I love it. I love it all.

Now to wait. 24 hours. I think. Tapping of a foot won't help. Passing out will. I'm going to. It brings tomorrow. And then I'm happy all through and through. For 54 more.

if you must know,

2011-07-19T23:07:00.002-04:00

i'm discovering i sensibly hate blogs, the more of my peers' i read. and if you must know, i'm learning how to take pictures of all the things i write down. so i'm still in the game, i'm just....playing it differently.

hooray!

2011-07-12T23:49:00.000-04:00

i've found a better one and it's prettier and it won't keep breaking like this stupid one i have currently!

via some image i randomly found. whoever took it it wasn't me.

sigh

2011-07-12T23:33:00.000-04:00

this bed is stupid. i'm burning it.

welcome to me.

2011-07-11T22:20:00.001-04:00

well, it's official - i hate everything, and everyone. and if you thought i was cynical and hard to deal with before, then do me a favor and shut the fuck up, sit down, and talk to the person to the left of you. because your opinion doesn't matter and your face sucks.

the first of my best friends to leave was when i was seven. her name was nicole. oddly enough (and i swear, you can even facebook her maybe, though I never have) her last name was Friend. Nicole Friend. we made treehouse forts and fished with really really lame embroidery floss and fucking sticks (catching nothing but wastes of time) the minute that school led out for the summer and for two and a half months after. It wasn't raining or doing anything significantly poignant when she told me she was moving, but I do remember that the conversation came from her parents, not from her, and I realized that not living in a neighborhood -- where street lights and ice cream trucks actually meant something -- was the worst decision my parents ever made for my sister and I. Assholes.

So she left. I never heard from her again, but that wasn't unusual because social media didn't exist and stamps were out of my allowance budget. Fast-forward to fourth grade, when Sarah left for Denver because her dad was too fucking smart for his own good because he could hack Apple or some shit. Then Jr year of high school came when my best friend David decided he was born for the Marines because whatever whatever he was tough shit and so he was shipped south and eventually overseas. Jon, a friend for seven years, left for college in 2003 and all of a sudden the WaWa visits sucked and I had no one to drive around back roads with and sing shit music to. Seriously though, who needs college with a set of frontal and parietal lobes like that one? He could program a dj set in his head in binary. Kristin O. left for LA in 2008 when she had a breakdown from her religion and decided she wanted to sleep with a guy and drink alcohol. Now that I can't fucking blame her for at all, and I can say she definitely came out on top with that decision. But I still missed her when she drove her VW cross-country to make a posse out of a loyal bar crowd. I left just before she did because I hated being left behind. I left because I was sick of waving goodbye and then going home to the weather channel and string cheese and laundry. That's when I ended up hating being alone.

The next really really big one was in October, of 2009, just a wee bit after I moved. Ines was killed by a train. I don't know if I've ever wrote that before, but it's true, and it hurts the worst because I can't visit anything but my right wrist or her grave 736 miles away to say hi.

So when Robyn left for Taipei, I decided I couldn't say goodbye even if I had a choice, and I fell into a "goodbye's are a requirement only in polite tradition" viewpoint. Fuck these separate paths. I lost Matt, too, when we decided we were better off outside of a relationship than in one. That was a good choice, but I did lose a best friend, in that we still don't talk and I'm sure I make him too uneasy to joke with. And so Katie sprung the horrible news on me tonight, "You're going to be mad"...."okay it's fine, I've smoked a pack already"...."no, really, this one is going to really really piss you off"..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................."I'm moving on September 1st. I'm leaving Chicago."

well go-fucking-figure. I guess it's time to start learning how to live a miser.

blame it on my childhood.

2011-07-08T00:26:00.000-04:00

i hate confrontation. i love responsibility but hate grasping for it. the dream is nice but paying for it is miserable. i love conflict when i know i have the one-up. i love passion and feeling things and taking care of pretty much everyone if they are deserving of it. i hate bullshit and beat-arounds (snicker) though perverted jokes amuse me. distraction sucks and so do lies and horrible intention. it's going to blow the fuck up in my face but i don't care; i have work to do. i'll see you in the morning. i'm tired and my stomach is empty.

my fakation is over.

2011-07-05T15:39:00.000-04:00

I am not allowed to check my bags for another hour. There's this rule that you can't check bags any earlier than four hours before your plane leaves. I'm getting real acquainted with airports these days.

My stomach is subject to harsh pings and pangs, and every now and then I get the rise of a panic attack, but they are pretty much slight, and they happen almost every day now. My skin has been roasted into the pattern of a bathing suit. I love that I fell for sunburn the day I decided to wear a one-piece with cutouts on each side of my waist. C'est ma vie.

This weekend was an amalgamation of a shitload of sand, Bigfoot's Dingleberries and Thumbhead and a re-defined 'Lonely Island' and other strange inside jokes, many NFL conversations, a steady stream of alcohol coursing my body, an intense prolonged viewing of The Room, wearing Prada shoes every night, convertibles, boats, meeting more people than my memory can handle, and lizards. It was interesting. I attempted Twittering every possible event that occurred in desperate hopes that it would become a real-time diary so I wouldn't forget anything. But even that fell by the wayside and I never even pretended that I would remember (or care) at a later time to Blog about it. I hate Miami. I hate Florida. But the weekend was a blast in drunken laughter (I couldn't stop silent-cry-laughing at brunch one morning) that will always be priceless. The fireworks were shitty but we commanded our own celebration by hanging out on a blanket in the middle of a standing crowd and downing all the wine and beer we got our hands on. It might be time to detox.

I picked up a pack of Parliaments out of the cigarette machine of some divey frat scene (you have to see it to understand) and inhaled three sticks before I got back to the crowd. That was the first night. I never touched them again, mainly because no one else I hung out with after that smoked, but they're in my bag with seven left. There are plenty of pictures. It might be time to detox.

The hardest thing about this weekend is trying to escape from a breakup and realizing it won't go away. Even as I type this my throat is closing up and I feel like I have to shit and throw up everywhere. Prepared for it or not, it hurts. It sucks. You have to just keep getting stronger and not fuck it up and keep trying to believe people when they say "it's for the best". But they don't know that. I don't know that. They're probably right. But that's what you have to keep telling yourself because you don't know unless you feel it all. So here I go, back to Chicago, with an empty heart but full hopes and determination on finding happiness and even better music. So many good stories from this weekend will keep conversations on the upswing. I will work harder. I will book a real vacation. I will pay more money toward that which needs to be paid so I can move.

This fakation has not changed my life. It hasn't even changed my mind. About anything. But I do think it was another weekend where I got stronger and I might even make a pie this week....lots of berries. Not the dingleberry kind.

awesome shit, they all say.....

2011-07-02T21:57:00.001-04:00

Us.

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also

2011-06-12T16:17:00.001-04:00

A happiness project, by gretchen ruin.

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a book I want

2011-06-12T16:14:00.001-04:00

It is called Creative Walls, by geraldine james. her name is so pretty, and what this book holds is the pretty I need in my life.

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gone camping

2011-05-31T14:43:00.001-04:00

wisconsin!

no reading

2011-05-31T03:58:00.001-04:00

I am a reformed, turned advocate of personal blogging. If it's really that bad, go cry about it on a lunchroom napkin and turn it into useless lyrics that keep you in your elitist depression. But its dark, late, my eye is swollen shut for whatever reason and I couldn't find a pen. Due to the non-popularity of this outlet, here goes the woe.

It's been one year, one month, one week of my boyfriend and I together. Trying to make a relationship last through such tumultuous changes and frustrated pressure (of work mostly) has been a focus that has never been easy, but worth fighting for and discovering pieces of me/us that laid dormant from years of self preserving. A moment ago, he sent me a text with a simple request, and not even. More like a proclamation-- Out of my life. It definitely hurts, mainly because I stupidly, STUPIDLY made this move around a month ago. I admitted that it was a selfish move that came after a night of drinking and many friends had received almost the same text at the same time. I vowed not to drink that hard for as long as I could. I kept up with that promise, but still lay in my own torment of letting that happen in the first place. So there's that, but also because he sends this text after a night of drinking and smoking and it's two am on a work night. He worked so hard to halt on those things for a bit and up until tonight was flooring me with his persistence. So much so that I threw my 'emergency' cigarettes away when I got home earlier today and somehow managed to have only two drinks on a holiday and finished the night off with a diet coke. Watching him commit to being better to himself made me want to, too.

I'm upset about the relapse, but it happens. Sometimes the conditions are right and you just stumble. What really hurts was the drastic change from a kiss on the forehead and an 'ill be in soon' to a drunken tumble into the room three hour later where he called me dramatic and kept kicking me out of his house.

He's right, I won't be happy with him or myself if nights like this are on the horizon. I did get the cab ride home, plopped into my bed after staring at the now half-dome eye, and received a really shitty text. I don't know how we can both so strongly believe in ourselves so much without knowing that the other comes first. I guess I have to wonder if I even do. Is it possible to over worry in that instance? I back his decision to quit hurtful habits and freak out at the thought of him getting hurt, but that stresses him out and he'd rather not hear it.

I adore him, so I'm confused. How do dial affection down a notch when that's just how you've always been and that's how you feel? That question was almost too pathetic. I refuse to backspace for anything but misspellings however. At this point I wish I was buzzed so I could at least fall asleep without motoring this over in my head a thousand times. Three am, I'm still wide awake. And I can't text him back because he really needs sleep. But, if I did, I'd tell him I don't need to start over, I'm fine the way I am, and I'd rather stay here until the right time we could find a new place together. But I did tell him that and right now isn't a good time for reminding.

I wish I had more to hash out and say, but I'm tired and this eye is only getting worse, and I'm more sad than focused. We've been together for over a year, this moment isn't right. I want to turn back time and ask him to drink diet coke with me or come to bed. But in reality there's no one to fool- we make our own decisions and we get the repercussions.

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quotes, one.

2011-05-25T09:35:00.002-04:00

I Feel Weird

2011-05-24T21:24:00.001-04:00

I feel weird. Floor open now. Please swallow me. So embarrassed.

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WEDDING!

2011-04-29T23:45:00.002-04:00

what a royal pain in our fucking arses that shit was. leave them alone. let them leave us alone, we have our own lives. and being married is for fuckers that are scared of death. or are forced to find princesses because they might be killed or called gay (?).

ponder.

ponder.

(What's Your) Angle by Andrew Bird.

mon 6:40

2011-04-18T19:41:00.000-04:00

you know what really hurts a lot? knowing that you ultimately lost a friend not because of something you said or did, but because of who you are. that really, really sucks to hear. ah, wait, that might be a little too overdramatic a statement. it hurts deeper than expected, to hear.

pasadena.

2011-03-29T03:56:00.000-04:00

i saw as much as i could about my famed san gabriel valley and as i half-lay here contemplating another cigarette....that balcony....and another song i've never been able to hear without crying (duh dudes, i'm numb right now this song means nothing but sound), and a room to myself, i want to write it all down. i haven't been a writer in ages but i've always carried the mission as a documenter, because well, no shit, it's been forever. i'm so. so. so fucking far away. i know people but i'd say i've a way to go before whatever happens doesn't bother me. shrug . . . i'm 26. could be worse. dude. i forgot it was monday. my toe is caught in the company bag. i remember my first day - you know who i called? my friend that i worked with. apologized. said "hey look, i just, a, i just broke up with ian and i wanted someone to call because i think this is going to mean a lot..." a year and four fucking months later i don't get it. i'm in la. what. it's really pretty. i can't take pictures fast enough, and i definitely can't take them accurate enough.

i want to do right by you i'm finding out that cheating gets it faster

i'm going out i don't care if you're angry

hmmm. nice song.

the "power of three" is getting really fucking boring

2011-03-19T01:23:00.000-04:00

so how's that for a title? because honestly when you're given a blank slate for a title you WILL ultimately fuck with it.

i interviewed THIS lead role. i interviewed THIS major politician. i interviewed THIS YOUNG CEO. so read on for her girlhood crush, her next big role and why she never gets hit on.

i studied journalism and i get it. less than three is boring, more than three is overload. but you guys are fucking kidding me. you've put a science to passion of interviewing, or reporting, or finding the source of captivation. (see what i did there?)

thanks, all. thanks.

haberdash.

2011-03-02T23:32:00.002-05:00

It's pretty tough to write this, because it's all coming out by force. However I have to start remembering things clearer than I currently do so this is what I have to use.

I just about broke today, if I didn't. I ditched work on a personal day and then drafted up a resignation letter. I took pictures for my best friend who is moving to farasfuckawayland and then found the precise apartment that I want to move into, 2,133 miles west of Chicago. I put the feelers out for a new career path and contacts out there, and took a stab at my debt for analyzing. I currently owe (not including Sallie Mae, the false Sallie Mae, or AES) approximately $1,023 and I'm out a license and a Social Security Card. I wrote an email to my family detailing how exactly I was planning on paying that off within one and a half months, I shot over a message to a friend in a restaurant asking for an application for a temporary position, and even looked at government loans for Grad programs at the Universities nearby my destination. I know what common sense is saying right now, because I discovered it as well--they don't offer government loans for Grad programs. Shit. So that is still up in the air somewhere, and I'll try to rope that cloud sooner or later.

I can do this, if I really, really want to and if I really, really know how to make it work this time. Someone great recently told me that you start finding your passion in life by trying activities (or hobbies, or jobs, or whatever) like you would a sampler. And then another great person added that — and it's been proven — it takes ten years to master anything. So maybe I don't want to master anything at all, except for sampling. I want to try everything and meet hundreds of people but would be totally content only connecting to one at a time. The problem is, I still get attached...to just about everything. Have you ever had a conversation with me? How many cities and states do I call "home"? How many hockey teams do I claim "the best"? Am I capable of having a favorite band? Beer? Day of the week? Color? Even people that treat others kinda sorta horribly...are probably still in my life, unless they are creepy. I get attached to the general public, even if they do piss me off all the time (case in point).

At this point, someone somewhere should be rolling their eyes. Ah yes, okay, okay, this girl is a vagabond or bohemian or just utterly dramatic and needs a strong dose of Prozac and "hi, i'm Reality, you must be Idiot". So this is also where I sheepishly admit to finally giving a try to a therapist, as embarrassing and public as this may be. I wouldn't be able to make decisions like this with a clean conscience not having an outside opinion. I am a mess at organizing life. And maybe this admission will help someone later to read that, if only myself. And I will probably follow up with after the meeting and personal reflections, blahblah.

Paranoia and insecurity can't work in my life, I have no room for it.

well...

2011-02-26T17:02:00.001-05:00

then again, maybe not.

Orange County

2011-02-25T02:09:00.003-05:00

Jonathan just took me from the restaurant to the hotel at a speed of 86 mph, and along the way we put the top down at some stoplight in newport beach (lucky one gets the convertible mustang) and sang the last song we heard while taking our last bite at The Crow (as our lead paid the bill) -- phantom planet. Just guess which song, can you? It was an amazing drive. The 405. Pacific Coast Highway. PCT. Lights. Warm weather. Hands UP. Cigarettes. A stale crushed Red Bull. And now I'm talking to my "roommate". And she's asking me about my living situation and I'm saying--

I wish he would just break his lease, goddammit. I wish we could live together already. (I swore to myself never to live with another unless I could endure heartbreak he or I created, with the ability to learn and overcome the issue.)

I wish he would just break his lease, I tell her. I want to live with him. I want to come home with him. Or go home to him. Or have him come home to me. Even if I'm sleeping, and never feel him curl up to me and exhaust into the top of my spine as I dream of flying and of eating pizza in Africa with my elementary teacher (ugh), I want to wake up to him. I want to fight over sock drawers. I want to toast in the rain on our back porch. I want to make fun of the sound he makes in the bathroom when there is no tv or radio on and I hear EVERYTHING. I want to have a weekend where he is away and I invite friendS over to make a table and then get drunk off craft beer he made. Fuck. I want this imagery. Badly. This is my vacation in my head...lately it's all i think about. Making it work with toothbrushes and one bathroom and lessons we've learned and the fucking MILES we have gone without each other. Even if the only this is ramen in our cabinets. Alright. Whatev. I season it with balsamic, he uses a touch of that aluminum chicken packet. Orange type. We totally have a long way to go before even considering being together long enough... despite the even further maybe/possible/NOFUCKINGWAY marriage consideration. Whatever. But I'm thousand of miles away from him. And he makes me laugh. And I want him to see this forecast on the news. Billings, Montana is closer than Chicago? Where the hell am I?! i want him to give me a reason not to move. to seattle, to portland, to nyc. wherever it is, i want him with me...always... because he's awesome as shit, and so amazing, and he gets me. I think he knows why exactly I love Seattle. I've just never asked him if he knows before...because I think he gets it.

Oh! The city. So yeah. Palm trees, sand, people, greatness. Me and Lead are the oldest here (he's 28, I'm 26. Reps are 25 or younger.) .........

I just think that...this bed is way too comfortable to be sleeping in it alone. And I'm an independent spirit at heart. I'll move miles on a whim and challege. That line makes me giggle.

hmm. he was fucking cheesy as all hell this evening. but i showed everyone. he's just....really concerned with everyone else liking him and accepting him. this may not last. but i'm ignoring that for as long as i can.

i'll take my drink sans irresponsibility

2011-02-13T01:29:00.002-05:00

i'm done drinking the sauce.

It was tough tonight. It was a tough call to make--a Saturday night in Wrigleyville. But there's always a day one...

One of my best friends came into town yesterday and it had been forever since I had seen her, so I was ready for this weekend to be amazing and drunken and memorable. Friday night meant friendly house party thrown by a great design bunch, and I was nicely invited. And then I go and I make an asshole out of myself at least three times, to a terribly disgusting degree, at a lovely apartment hosted to us all by someone I didn't even know. And later, I hurt someone I loved (again) with useless, irresponsible words that I inevitably forgot, due to over-imbibing.

No more sloshing my life night after night after excuse. At least not for a while.

So then today, I showered pretty, blew my hair out, fancied my makeup a step further, and then made a choice that I wasn't going to sip a spot of alcohol. I then get to a house party and immediately freeze. I mean I REALLY didn't get far. I think I was there for six minutes before I freaked out, grabbed my shit, and booked for Subway to get some food and a diet coke. In all fairness I felt a little ridiculed when they handed me a shot and I said no and they stared. They offered me a beer and I said no and they stared. They didn't get it.

The amazing turnabout from all this is that true, I'm fucking embarrassed that I left so awkwardly, but this is who I am. It was a conscious decision and will be what I try to focus on as I do this. No-drinking isn't some twisted punishment, contrary to my original plan; I'm bettering myself in an attempt to self-preserve. I must learn to socialize without three drinks. Get creative without copying a friend. Be a better person to the world. Everyone deserves better than the shit I've been dishing out to them since I really started drinking so heavily.

And everyone starts with me at the top of the list, of course. But it's benchmarked by relationships that I refuse to poison with my idiocy or selfishness again.

hehatesme

2011-02-02T16:56:00.002-05:00

YOU'RE GONNA DIE BITCH!!!
not really
12:28 PM
did
you
fix
it

3:52 PM
god damn
you're so sexy
but why
oh why
do you keep exiting my chats
?
crying me

because you don't talk to me
i'm staring at you
dong
you can't chat me
penis
wang
i'm not lookin gat you
pee pee
i'm not looking at your chats i mean
i'm looking at your face
your picture sucks
well
chang it
your fro
change it
your hari
nappy hair
shit
you're a pee face
i got a new chat
i need to look at
the compauter
I'll shit on you back
again
bye
dyke
bye
bye
adios
whoosh
whoosh

keeeeep caaaalllmmmm

2011-01-29T19:47:00.000-05:00

a mantra! okay so really quickly because that's how i think, i'm sitting on my bed while my phone charges for its cinderella night of working. one night, they said, you'll get one night of service because we feel bad for you. alright, i'll take it. so i'll shower until its ready. bought a dress, bought some new duds, because tonight might matter more than i think. got the contacts, got the confidence, got some butterflies in my stomach.....or a stomach that is propelling even the diet coke to come up in waves. i think the wine and cheese will be missed, okay no big deal, as long as i get there. but right now i feel like you do in a dream where you need to be somewhere but everything is stopping you and nothing is helping you get to where you need to be. i don't like ultimatums. i do like realizations. that's fresh. that's right. that's going to bring clean air into my lungs. i hope i make this all worth it. i hope everyone ends up doing the right thing. i wonder if egypt has officially begun rioting? i wonder why the cheeseburger never hurt me three nights ago. i wonder if i'll ever get into "young contrarian". it's not looking good in that department. i really wish it were warmer!

new beginnings?

2011-01-27T18:54:00.000-05:00

Month of January in Review

2011-01-20T15:49:00.002-05:00

It would be a lie to say I'll revisit to update more frequently. Who has time for this?

A sad realization slipped into my life this month, that we work toward the future but will lose the present along the way. I have plenty of time before the future...I have a job that is good for me but a heart that is disappointed, and the combination has cheapened my brain. Who knows when I'll understand how to move my life again, but I won't be me until I do. Though I have things I love here, I just can't commit to a life that isn't totally mine. Not yet.

i'll fix this, i swear.

2010-12-02T21:35:00.001-05:00

something's going to happen. i feel it, i know it. i actually miss last year.

MY LIFE IS A BIG DAMN SIGH

2010-11-03T01:06:00.001-04:00

HOW I WISH TOMORROW WENT:

6am: wake up, start coffee, jump in shower
6:30am: sip coffee while getting ready and watching the news and weather, work preparing in the background.
7am: out the door with more coffee, stop for a french-and-go breakfast with my plethora of $
7:30am: in to work, saying hi to all my early-risers and smiles plus more smiles
8am-noon: so damn busy, chaos flying, desk and gmail organized, people stopping by
noon thirty: fuck i picked a good outfit today
1pm: lunch with boyfriend for a break
2pm to 5pm: meetings and more busy, saving lives groupon-style
7pm: finished and leaving work, meet friends for 1 drink of more happiness
8pm: cooking and eating dinner with boyfriend in an organized apartment
10pm: finishing some work edits while watching storm chasers or ironic news or movie or cooking something or building shelves
11pm: sleep in the comfiest bed known to sleepies.

HOW TOMORROW WILL GO FOR REALS:
6am: alarm buzzes, snooze. alarm buzzes, snooze. alarm buzzes, snooze. alarm buzzes, snooze.
7:52 am: FUCK! WHEN DID THE ALARM GO OFF SHIT SNOOZE WHERE WERE YOUUUuuU
8:43 am: arrival to work, get stupid kCup coffee because good shit is gone, hair is greasy, breakfast?!!? starving.
10:12 am: finally decided to shadow someone because i'm bored and full of diet cokes and coffee and dry cereal i found somewhere
12:02 pm: boyfriend says hi.
2 pm: I decide to spend my last dollar on pretzels for lunch herearesomeMEETINGS
until 5:30 pm: meetings about things I don't yet understand
5:31 pm: my clothes look stupid and smell groooosssss ew man.
6 to 7:13 pm: shadowing finally
8:02 pm: get on the brown line alone and pick up wine as i curse my methods of living
8:23 pm: analyze my debt and consider how poor i am. cough up change for wine
2:07 am: finally sleeping, drunk, after crying to 234 people about literally nothing

I'd say I have room to grow. Paid a bill tonight, however, and that felt pretty good. Spent some time with some really amazing folks as well. It was actually pretty alright.

Lesson, I'm sure

2010-10-27T23:25:00.001-04:00

When hard times outweigh the good, and all your words are misunderstood, when all the stars become boring after staring too long, when all your friends are still talking to you about work at 10:30 at night, when you realize your latest love is celebrating a birthday in self-comeupance, when Dallas is singing to you,

this is they way it goes, and it's okay. I don't want to fix things, anymore. I am young. I am stupid, in an ignorant way. I am intense, and I'm going to not apologize for it anymore. I'm going to start smiling more at people and talking to those that intimidate me. I'm going to say and do a lot of things, but in honesty, it might be my fluke. In the past two days (and that's only two, ladies and gents, not 38) I've heard words that have floored and rocked me. This is hard. It's really, really, hard. But it's always been. And my world has shook. But the same has always happened. I've thought back to 1983, and felt a ton better. The acoustic song has its end and it's heartwarming, but only because we have a memory to pillow it with. Mr. John Megahan, you've gone rogue.

i'm terrified of what can happen tonight.

2010-10-25T23:37:00.000-04:00

i love storms, i love chaos. but as everyone i warned today lovingly assured me they'd be safe with boyfriends, girlfriends and significant others, i nodded in understanding. and now i'm climbing into bed alone as the rain starts flirting with my fear, smacking the window. everything just needs to settle the fuck down. especially my nerves and even more so that weird smell emanating from something in my room. ew. anyway, what a bad night to sleep solo. i can't even force my eyes shut. i don't know why. i'm not much scared of the actual harm i have to worry about. maybe it's being caught unprepared or even simply the fact that i have no flashlights and i couldn't find a single lighter. or one long thunderclap disillusioning me while bringing me to conscience and then i end up reaching for nothing as i attempt to figure out what the HELL is going on. or maybe literally not having a single other soul in this damned apartment. loneliness in essence is a major fear of mine.

i'm also almost completely sick of this state of affairs, and while trying to conquer the stagnant situation i triggered another creepy thought--maybe i really just don't know where to go from here. the only dream i have is to maybe someday have one.

fuck it. untitled. table fluff. or i don't know sherbert? anything. fuck.

2010-10-21T23:28:00.003-04:00

a little carried away.

stab.

2010-10-06T09:04:00.002-04:00

If I'm right, and I surely very rarely ever am, she looks strangely like me! I think.
But still. Past maybe past, this was quite a shock. Oh build yourself up again, dearie, the world is a great big mess you can fuck around with.

But still.

What if I hadn't said a thing?

sour salad.

2010-10-04T22:07:00.001-04:00

If someone were to ask me to explain the definition and actually capture the word "frustration", I think I'd snapshot everything around me for the next hour. My room is a wreck and my roommate keeps asking me if I'm ready to switch rooms so she can feel settled (heather, clean it); I just threw out all my squash and veggies which could possibly add up to more than $100 in thrown out groceries in the past two months (buy produce day-of only with recipe in-hand); pies haven't been made in weeks (stop hating yourself); not one bill has been paid in full and I'm getting an average of five calls a day from collectors (start paying them in full before anything else is bought); Ina died tomorrow, a year ago (...).

In a word, messy. In more than a few words, I'm fucking beat up by my lifestyle on a daily basis and I have neither the motivation nor the knowledge of how and to start fixing it. This plain sucks. I'm cold, I need sweaters. The sound of my voice makes me want to physically throw up everything. I don't want to eat anymore. But I'm constantly starving. Every person in my life is lying to me and no one genuinely cares. That last sentence, in itself is every bit a lie, but it's hard for me to get around that when I'm so distrustful of myself.

My joys of late have been re-imagining every little bit of my vacation, all the way through my last blink of Mount Rainier. I spend my days screening for possible new homes for Baby Hodge, the closest critter to warm my heart in years. Catching up on Mad Men and driving my thoughts into the past, when smoking was glamourous and calming. Coffee hasn't been so much of an escape as it used to be, because it's a constant at work.

I need, space. I need patience. Freedom. Lots and lots of space. With the potential of really having long, long, long conversations with strangers who have kind eyes and years of mistakes to teach me. Ingredients for pie baking for miles. Chilly weather that I can enjoy and rain that I can fall asleep to. I need creation. My excuse here has been no money, and even worse, no time. Putting it into perspective, I'm at work until almost six or after, meaning I get maybe 2 hours left of my night for anything. Fuck. The office. Ugh. No.

Concentrate on the pie. Plush covers. More traveling. Paying off bills so I can afford a sweater for the most patient and understanding and childlike man I know. I don't want to make him sad or bring him down or think he's failing in any way. I don't want to push him anywhere but closer to me. I want to bang my head against a wall and think. There is always a way out. There is always another option.

i still can't stop

2010-10-01T00:50:00.000-04:00

No matter what religion honestly brings you to conclusively, I'm extremely blessed. Absolutely so. I've seen so much, but what really takes my mind by storm is what I feel around me waking up. I'm sorry if you don't have this, too. I'm sorry if there are no pictures. I'm sorry if you don't have a plan, and I wish the best for you. But try loving with the possibility that you could embarrass yourself or fail.

That's all I have, but I'm still so young yet.

what? say this? oh pudding. my apple!

2010-09-27T23:12:00.000-04:00

All I want is to read those lips. FUCK! Watch the dried spit peel apart the upper and lower flaps of mouth and your tongue razor through as your eyes smile because, heh, I burped a little. Through, my, butt. But honestly, no, girls don't do that. They fall in love and giggle and hiccup in nervous goosebumps God you're a sexy bitch just hump my leg. Just talk to me, already. Shine your hair in the sun and rub it into my back shoulder blade again as you lazily "massage" my soreness away. I carried that damn bag forever. The least you could do...

fuck.

I miss you. Your hand should hold mine, now. Your voice should be hoarse from describing the way my ankles can turn you on or how my teeth looked goofy from the moment I screamed "FUCK!" in whatever way you remember appropriate. Kiss my neck, oh please, won't you? Get this GODDAMNEDBLASTEDRINGOFF as I attempt to learn something from this book that casts me away from routine. Don't read my lips now darling, I. HATE. ROUTINE. It's a WASTE of economy and you will learn nothing from anything.

Lift my skirt up, I feel like blushing.

break

2010-09-03T09:03:00.000-04:00

My instincts have seen the course better than my mind has, or my heart. I don't use this as a talking point or reason to be, as my roommate does. But, when I know something is wrong, I know something is wrong. I know it so well that the air around me becomes thick and sick and strong and sad. Everything that isn't said is louder than what was said that hurt. Literally, the world you had been in before this instinct crept into your thoughts will just shut you out, so fast that you forget the way it looked before...you just know it existed.
I'm a paranoid, excitable person. Self-sabotaging sometimes, shy the others, and emotional. Coat all that in dramatics and present with a strong affection for loving and being loved and I guess you have a sort of wreck. I'm figuring that out.
But it's easy to see when things are wrong, because you don't see anything at all. You feel it all. You feel it all.

This is a depressing post, and half of me doesn't want to write any of it down, because I hate looking back in time to messes, when I could be focusing on how to make it better and live. But there's no paper in front of me, astonishingly enough, and because this is as private as it gets. These are my thoughts, and it's a representation of why my eyes are staring past the speaker.

No tickets today. Odd. ...
Alright. I know what I have to do. I don't really know how, but I know that lately, my memories are taking me to childish things and school-bus rides; fields and barns and pen and paper and pureness. Crispy smells of dying leaves in clean air and sunday brunches and spilling milk and going to sleep with the window open and falling asleep in the backseat of a car. My goal is to take that and bring it now, to this age, to this responsibility level. To stop taking advice (but never stop listening) and to stop giving advice (but never stop learning).

To not care to impress anyone but myself.

thirty nine.

2010-08-27T23:02:00.001-04:00

I honestly had every intention of spilling into this space only the words "forfeiting for pen and paper...which will be a lot harder for you to read," but then the train car's lights dimmed. And do you know what happened then? MY SCREEN DIMMED AND MY KEYS LIT UP! WHAT?! THAT IS AWESOME, APPLE, THANK YOU!

I now must continue to mooch for food and buy only bread and peanut butter to afford my very own macbook pro. Or just go away a whole lot and work remotely. This is great. I feel like I'm finally just going on vacation which I haven't done in...lord...I don't know how long. Every time I've gone home it was to end something; some business had to take place...and who wants to go home for vacation anyway when you think about it. But I'm on the train, alone, there's the inky space outside littered with midwestern lights that I never get to see from the inside of the city and I'm TRAVELING.

I am so, so very happy. Thrilled to be seeing some good friends who will help me to slow down for a few days. I don't want to have to worry about anything, and even let the responsibilities I have melt into luxuries that I want to complete. Projects with a positive purpose, if you will. Hence getting this loaned laptop from work.

There are so many things I want to say, now that I'm truly alone and my fingers can race across this keyboard with every flighty thought and question I have. But instead right now I just want to take all of this in. Snuggle up to the plush seat, put on the headphones and let this lull just hypnotize me. The moon is right there, right out my window and it's so gleamingly bright.

Yeah, I don't want to miss this.

thirty eight.

2010-08-25T17:03:00.000-04:00

i'm so tired.
i'm so tired.
i'm so tired.

..
.
.
.
.
.
of

e
v
e
r
yth
i

n
g.

i'm going to start walking around with really loud music and post-its over my heart with how my heart is feeling. and i'm going to start smiling at strangers a lot more, and finessing a resume. i am working on introducing myself to me. i'm 25. it's about time. i'm going to stop saying "i'm 25" to prove a point that should be proven through the point. i'm getting really excited for people with things they are really excited about.

but i'm so tired of this.

thirty seven.

2010-08-22T15:28:00.000-04:00

Not really a new page, just ending the first book, I guess. I officially quit Merlo. So that happened.
"How do you feel?"
I feel like committing to pie, dammit, and really doing something with it. I feel like playing outside with someone I just met. I feel like not drinking wine for a bit until I start pairing appetizers I made myself with it. I feel like turning back the years until the calendar reads 2005 (?!!) and reliving that road trip that I swear was a dream. I want it back. I feel like my money situation is neither better nor worse. I feel like chicken shit that I can't call my bank or stand up to pretty much anything that requires a little boldness. I feel like standing on a stage and singing. I feel bored.

For the record, the ER people were a nice bunch, I was just there for an entire day and I felt super bad and guilty of depleting Matt from his number one Sunday passion. I wish he hadn't stayed. I was glad he did, it shows loyalty and comfort, but my goal in any relationship is to strengthen the other half, not dent them.

Anyway.

I have a whirlwind few weeks ahead of me, so I'm totally devilishly happy about that. I've been standing still due to a reawakened shyness, which just pisses me off. I want the chaos back. I'm going to try my hardest to create some noise. Huzzah! I'm a sandwich!

thirty six.

2010-08-08T17:58:00.000-04:00

I've been steadily immersing myself in the entire company of Groupon. Trying so very badly to understand any role I can inquire about. I read CS tickets, talk with sales reps, discuss problems and try to resolve them with CP (marketing), and I'm firmly planted in editorial. I've even been working on a way to have a better relationship with dev and honestly try to get the skinny on what their day is like. It's just so interesting—all these parts that come together to create this sociable company...it's insane. We all need each other. I wonder how I fell into it and what I can do to seriously improve it and make my mark. That's where all of this new-found interest and committal is coming from. I seriously messed up on Monday—horribly so—and ever since then I've been drowning in these waves I made. I want to leave an impression, but not one that people still talk about with a look of disgust and fear on their face as they mumble "oh, God, never again; please don't ever let this happen again". Terrifying. So I ask questions, and I learn. And the interest just grows, even in the light of Pie, Dammit. Luckily, I finally got the words I was silently searching for on Thursday, and I felt worlds better.

thirty five.

2010-08-02T20:25:00.000-04:00

It's sort of disgusting to think that I go literally months without unwinding through typed passion. Honestly, what is this? There are so many updates, so much upkeep and information to jam into one post that I'm forfeiting early. Forget it. Can't be done.

Highlights, I can do.

I quit smoking. I got a raise with promotion. I made poor choices recently and am trying desperately to be at peace with them and not repeat them. Let go. Pie, Dammit is still alive, although the web presence has to be better if I'm going to get anywhere. I made the first steps in planning a PACIFIC NORTHWEST VACATION. That takes my breath away, reading that. I bought tickets today for my first vacation alone in a while. I took my car back home. I hit the 4-month mark with Matt somewhere this month and that just seems so damn short. I have a new, lovely roommate.

I don't know. I need to get the internet and fix my computer, so I can do this more often. I always have so much to say, and I don't know where those words end up, but I guarantee they get lost too quickly.

thirty four.

2010-06-20T13:37:00.003-04:00

I've never dug into the idea of weddings much, at least not as a personal occurrence. Even now at 25, I still can't even picture myself committing to something as serious and legitimate and grown-up as marriage. And while I won't be a miser and refrain from admitting this viewpoint might change— as we all get older and I get lonelier— for now I'd rather just stay single and dreaming. This however, has zero impact on my current sickening obsession with the implementation of a damn-rad vintage DIY wedding.

I blame it on Amy, and my bridesmaid role in her little shindig when she and Jon will tie the happily-ever-after knot. We were searching through piles of online images for inspiration months back, where I discovered the photography and crafty ideas and pretty lace were so awe-inspiring and down-right addicting. To put together (albeit in my head or at least internet-ly) some adorable vintage, rosy, country-perfect wedding is my new guilty pleasure. I don't want a wedding ever, no; but poring over things like this is a time-waster I continuously put myself happily through.

this is ruffled.

this site is the megaphone for vintage weddings, and the above post was on a map mobile.

the entire blog is a never-ending read, with brilliant, brilliant photographer-endorsements.

like this guy carlzoch:

he does weddings and mush.

but he also captures some amazing weather shots:

i'm a lover.

thirty three.

2010-06-20T10:09:00.002-04:00

Sitting at work, in this ridiculous ergonomic (fun to say) chair with Grooveshark indie station playing out of my mini mac speaker (I can't decide on a band and I'm all out of music), stomach begging for food, and my mind is quiet but restless. And this is my Sunday, at 9 a.m. I like this solitude, I just can't focus on what I should be doing. Too much to think about. I'm piecing life together, and that's flat-out rad. Bills have been pretty much paid. I'm going home. I have a menu of lunches. A new bank account. Hobbies edging their way into possible careers.
I
just
can't
write.

Chicago is a fantastic city that is just what I thought it could be, when I first ran into it five years ago. Back then, sitting in the rear passenger seat of my beloved Honda, I tackled the chaotic and scared shit-less driving of Kelly as she weaved and white-knuckled her way through Lake Shore Drive traffic. Bumper-to-bumper traffic mixed itself into moments of 70 mph flow with the excitement of the city and I felt time stop only once, and I looked out over the bridge near the pier...where the river flows into the landscape of metal and glass and concrete and the lights have this glow. This kind of glow in the same way you'll look into the eyes of someone you love very, very much and you see sparkling and glimmering and affection. I knew, I KNEW, one day that city would be home. And it is. Nothing ever has to be dull. Boredom is only at your command. I fought the war, but the war won't stop, for the love of God.

I need to get into dropbox and pull down this City Bark deal. I need to get on stage and take a different view of the audience.

The Invented Leaf

2010-06-15T00:42:00.000-04:00

My lifestyle is about to change--based on a pie coming out of a 425 degree oven.

I've always wanted to do something, be a part of something, say something, and know that the purpose of waking up is to create an anything, and have it be remembered. I want something to be proud of. And here's my all-in, no-holds-barred attempt. Not through work, and not because I have to or because I'm expected (well maybe a little; I would hate for my father's day gift be an IOU Doing Something With My Life). But rather because I'm trying to shove out the hardest and most painful brick wall everyone runs into--personal content.

It just so happens I have a wonderful person alongside me with a killer smile, infectious laugh, and a penchant for completing projects and challenges with the same obsessive desire I do...and having a fucking blast along the way.

There are things I am about to give up which may make me miserable. Angry. Possibly a little depressed. But beneficial in the long run. And the way that I've been living my life so far has been by littering my days with small, evil, guilty pleasures that have made me feel grown up only in the belief that slowly killing yourself makes you harder, more rigid, and more "experienced".

No more:

-bulimia

-smoking

-spending money i don't have*

-avoiding water

-wasting energy

-running from debt

-avoiding family

-drinking**

-buying anymore than 25% of my meals pre-made

-dying

*this is called starting a budget and sticking to it

**no, i am not going straight-edge. it's a push to get matt to brewing beer and learning how to help him. it's a rad-cool trade that i want to learn more about

I will start:

-making pies

-building things out of wood and slowly learning that craft

-traveling

-drinking water and tea instead of soda

-writing more

-running and playing around and getting fitt-ah

-meeting people i don't work with, by leaving shyness behind

-being happy for waking up, and smiling while going to sleep

-building recipes

-being a better roommate, girlfriend, daughter, sister, employee, friend, heather

Obviously this ain't no overnight disco, but my biggest vices--the smoking and drinking--have been slowing me down the most, and dropping them immediately will have a dramatic effect.

I'm going. I'm doing this. I'm not slowing down and I'll still look forward all focused-like. I'm going to touch everything I haven't yet and I won't fall into anymore routines. Meet someone or something new everyday, and you'll always have a story and awkward moments to write about.

2010-05-12T22:14:00.000-04:00

you know how you're in love with someone and it doesn't go away? Many days that's all you need to recognize to get by. Thank God for memories, and second chances. And memories. That's important.

today i learned

2010-04-12T12:30:00.002-04:00

that these things

freakin' suck.

2010-04-11T03:30:00.001-04:00

I spent the night spilling excuses for other people. People I trusted. Kids from years ago, and of friends 735 miles away, and for people who are literally right in front of me. This moment might be everything. But he wanted me, and I chose to sleep on the wooden floor with a patchwork quilt while he biked home, and while they talked in the other room. I can't make it through a summer. I want to disappear. I want to find out where i'm hiding. I need the smile back.

ennui

2010-04-07T02:02:00.002-04:00

well if you were to ask her at this very moment how all was going, she'd have to lift her head up just to give you the proper eye roll. And, okay, to be properly honest, six hours ago precisely she couldn't stop gushing about how okay everything seemed. That's not to say that Flighty doesn't find herself in new situations constantly, it's only to say that she can't ground herself in any of them. So she never feels anything but the first impression. Usually with an overly self-deprecating response of her role in those situations. But Little Miss Can't Be Ungrateful knows one thing of herself is sure (because knowing OTHERS is just too easy), alcohol is the grandest numbing agent. The thought of pouring some liquor down your throat just to be more of yourself is horrifying. But it helps. When is fades though....interactions just become a mirror, and her reflection sucks. What happened? What's going on? Currently, after the eye roll, she could mutter one thing---''i'm so fucking embarrassed.''

thirty two.

2010-04-02T00:30:00.001-04:00

oh my. We need an update. Ima jus' jump riiight in. I'm currently in bed. Two particular factors make this mentionable. For one, it's before midnight. Not only do I not remember the last time I was in bed before two, I have a hard time distinguishing when I actually slept in my own bed (this isn't as awkward and whorish of a statement as it reads). For another, I don't have my heater on. My window is up. Yes. These summery teases as of late-- sunnier evenings, less layers, the usage of 'ice cold' in a bartender's spiel-- are the reason i'm here. There's not a part of a day that I don't want to LIVE and soak it up. Warmer temperatures just add to this. I've spent every night- every, night - of the past week or even two doing something unforgettable. Yeah, tonight was a blast. But, there's even TOMORROW. AND Next week. And plenty of favorite songs and perfect people and friendswho will brave the big star crowd with me for three tiny tacos and margaritas. I'm swell.

thirty one.

2010-03-21T16:53:00.002-04:00

Okay, so changes. Yes, spring changes of a forward-moving motivation.
The words have just stopped, and I'm not totally sure why. Maybe it's this constant buzz in rejection. A week or so ago, I heard the words "sorry I'm/I was/am being a flake" four times from four different people in four days. It's confusing. And it indirectly hurts, since I know people have excuses and lives to live and more power to them, blah blah.
I'm not sharing life with anyone right now. And that just isn't me. I exist on my interactions with others. I love sharing and talking and laughing. So I try to stay as surrounded as possible....but something isn't feeling right.

Until I make more sense on all that, I'm just going to let it settle.

On to the warmer weather and shorter denim and darker color and brighter lights. Things I need to do mainly consist of:
--getting ahold of a prescription so I can throw in the contacts and don my beloved shades
--finding out if biking is worth it for me and then investing in the getting and the going
--seriously learning how to cook my own damn food. I spend approximately $60 a day on food and drink and other things. buying tupperware is key here
--boot camp committal at least three times a week. i start tomorrow and go until thursday
--picking up paint for my room and completely rearranging. i'm thinking a beigey color or something that reminds me of a day in the mountains of the pacific northwest. or maybe a deep burgundy red
--learning the key to working with natural wood.

break for a second

i've been preaching "giving it all up to spend time in washington or oregon to make chairs out of wood"

and i'm going to explain it a little more here

In my writing past I've done a lot of interviewing designers, and I've noticed a ridiculous trend. They all get sick of the city. The competition. The fake-ness of the people, fabric, products and production. So they have their mini-life crises and pack it all to hike on west. What they've discovered, in working with natural products and their hands and meeting people who enjoy handshakes more than texting is mind-blowing. I'm still trying to figure out why they even move back at all. But it usually has something to do with family.

I want to work with natural wood.

i think this site started it, as well as growing up on a farm and working in a barn

it's such a necessary structure, and i think it's beautiful

even when it gives you splinters

i still haven't bought myself one of those rings. i think that in the back of my mind it's the only real gift i want from anyone, so when someone finally does present me with one...i'll smile. a lot.

--book my flight to L.A., and start saving for it

--pay off the bills first, or at least catch up

--hang out with the person who keeps unknowingly inspiring me to commit to this list more. he's amazing. i was drawn to this kid immediately, and i adore him, but i'm fine with just being good friends. you learn things more that way.

2010-03-12T01:34:00.000-05:00

so I went to a show on monday, one tonight, and will be rockin at another on sunday. But something still feels off. I love my job. I've made friends like I breathe there, but i'm telling you, something isn't right. Maybe I need to back down from everything again...find myself in a little quantity, and then I can go rage again. But now? Sigh. I'm just being a girl. Already attaching myself to boys that barely know me. Ew? Oh, for future reference, stupid child ditched all plans passive aggressively. Everyone was right_he was too young. I was obviously the too stupid. Next, please.

thirty.

2010-03-04T23:32:00.000-05:00

just as an official announcement, i've decided that i'm moving to the pacific northwest to make chairs. Out of old barn wood and make the perfect cup of coffee and get even more delicate with wine sipping. Oh man....i'll look into making my own version of Sleigh Bells mixed with Bill Withers and White Denim but since they've all been done before i'll keep it on my computer. I'll eventually stop trying to impress everyone and stop judging myself and maybe get my dog back. I'll meet a nice boy. One that I know i'll trust immediately and on that day i'll never know what it's like to really stop smiling. I'll be able to breathe in mountain air and drive down to the beach and stage a show in the city one night and a barn in the next and i'll drink water. Finally. Listen, that's important, that I drink a lot of water. I just don't find it flavorful enough to drink it everyday now.

2010-02-25T01:11:00.000-05:00

right now I am....still tasting the 85% dark chocolate....wearing my hair gathered in a mint colored slouchy hat....sipping on a glass of pinot noir......hearing the academy is...play in my head due to an old friend's status....wondering what adam and I will do when he flies in friday....feeling my leg fall asleep.....distracted by my multi-colored twinkle lights.....worried about so much of tomorrow.....smelling the silver slate nail polish my roomie just applied to my nails......thinking of kyle and wondering if he's just being really friendly or if monday meant something slightly more and if he'll chat me again tomorrow or bring me coffee again at work tomorrow and will he really share that Amarone with me?.....needing ryan to teach me how to roll cigarettes so I can relax on my back stoop in the snow alone.......watching texts roll in on the bottom of my screen, but not the ally one i've been waiting for....feeling the snow pile around me and god is it gorgeous out there....wondering how ian got a new girlfriend so fast but shrugging it off while still knowing he beat me, hahaha...peeling the nail polish off already.....hoping I really make all these shows i'm planning......feeling lost but somehow happy and content and full...but not. Quite. Perfect.................wanting to sleep, but never dream again :)

why i love my job...well, one of many reasons.

2010-02-24T16:27:00.000-05:00

via korsini:

"Brunch—like twilight, sporks, skorts, friends with benefits, and so many other things that make life worth living—is not quite one thing and not quite another"

but i totally need to add to this list. text me or email me ideas, guys!

twenty nine.

2010-02-24T13:33:00.001-05:00

things i remember from childhood.

slimer reppin' ecto cooler.

killer cartoons like attack of the killer tomatoes.

sledding on a tobaggan.

crystal pepsi and pepsi kona.

rice krispy treat cereal.

bedazzler and lite brite and hot wheels.
walking to my grandparents' house in the snow alone.

shakes of the month at mcdonald's (not just shamrock shake, they had banana in april!)

L.A. Gear and other light up sneakers.

learning how to write and cursive and i was amazing.
beating up boys on the playground.
chubbles, the family lop-eared bunny we bought on easter.
how awesome the last day of school was.
getting my bus assignment in the mail in august and psyching for school.
dollar gas, five dollar movies.
the christmas tree changing living room location and crying about it.
my pink ballerina dress.
going to blockbuster video or movie king to get vhs rentals.
getting straight "A"s and being the smart kid.
Y100, WMMR, and my TLC "Crazy, Sexy, Cool" cassette.
sitting on the floor while my dad plays guitar.
my mom cleaning for an entire day.
watching the clouds move shadows over the field and in the trees when i was three.
jellies and the blisters.
my blond hair and squeaky voice.

twenty eight.

2010-02-23T11:12:00.002-05:00

it'd be stellar to make a rain-focused mix tape. and a chicago-chaos one.

bed clothes, why am i in bed clothes?
watching out the window
watching what i don't know
on the fire escape now
hands they start to shake now
ready for the rail to break now
and i'm awake at last awake

cursing, rattling and cursing
go ahead and do your worst then
your worst that i can take

oh let the rain fall down
and wash this world away
oh let the sky be grey
cause if its ever gonna get any better
its gotta get worse for a day

morning, where am i this morning?
now its really pouring,
crawling up this shore
and i walk the neighborhood
and umbrella does no good
and i guess its in my blood
couldn't stop the flood

drowning, everything is drowning
go ahead and take the town
the town is yours to take

oh let the rain fall down
and wash this world away
oh let the sky be grey
cause if its ever gonna get any better
its gotta get worse for a day

calling, calling, falling, falling
grab on my guitar
and paddle with both my arms
headed where the voices are
i'll end up far so far away

oh let the rain fall down
and wash this world away
or let the sky be grey
cause if its ever gonna get any better
its gotta get worse for a day

its gotta get worse for a day
its gotta get worse for a day
its gotta get worse for a day
i know
its gotta get worse for a day

[rain.bishop allen.]

twenty seven.

2010-02-22T09:36:00.001-05:00

"come on man," she said.
"we have to leave this town
i cant stand another day without the rain"

i said "we'll leave now,
you can pack our things
Let me get the bill and i can make it straight."
it was the same as yesterday.

we've been gone
and the miles stretched down the long road
we moved as fast as we could

through the heat of the desert
and the cruelty of that Buick's seat
just to keep on

that night we laid on the floor of the desert
but i could barely sleep, yea i had this dream
there was a man in a black car, with a man in th back seat
and i woke up in a cold sweat with her lyin next to me

we've been gone
and the miles stretched down the long road
we moved as fast as we could

through the heat of the desert
and the cruelty of that Buick's seat
just to keep on

we sat on the corner of memphis and 53rd
as they filled the tank, we had a drink
she whispered, "let's get moving"

that night we night laid on the floor of the desert
but i still couldn't sleep.
there was man in a black in black car with a man in the back seat
i'd wake up in a cold sweat with her lying next to me.

2010-02-20T03:52:00.001-05:00

twenty six.

2010-02-17T18:51:00.000-05:00

In celebration of my upcoming Sunday outing to stand in line for hours at this joint I've been dying to go to (I may break down and finally un-veg myself), I wanted to share their latest update in news:

We will be closed Sunday February 14 Valentines Day

[01/13/2010] [Wednesday] - [12:38] Kuma’s staff is going on a crusade to murder and destroy Cupid. If anyone sees him please email us.

twenty five.

2010-02-17T16:05:00.001-05:00

Groupon is hiring. If you need a job, come see me.

twenty four.

2010-02-16T13:50:00.000-05:00

I WANT (TO GET YOU) ONE:

twenty three.

2010-02-15T16:56:00.001-05:00

For some reason I just can't stop laughing today. Like, bursting out, abs hurting, squeaking laughter at just about anything remotely smileable. So I did what any normal human being would do and looked up remedies.

WikiHow has a step-by-step article on "How to Stop Laughing After Every Comment"

and then there are some videos, and serious entries and other entities on how to quit the stitch.

But truth be told, I'm sitting here listening to some William Elliott Whitmore, Guy Davis, Johnny Cash, Alvin Youngblood Hart, Tom Waits, Jenny Hoyston....ah.....and just enjoying the day. And my oatmeal.

Relaxing after coffee tonight. I think I'm going to research where to get a bike. Yeah, I'm starting to go into that sort of thinking (holy shit, you hipster).

A L S O : I'm going to this Bear Hands show. And I need someone to take.

2010-02-15T01:58:00.000-05:00

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

twenty two.

2010-02-14T13:41:00.001-05:00

Perhaps she just looked first into the bouquet, to see whether there was a billet-doux hidden among the flowers; but there was no letter.

-- William Makepeace Thackeray, Vanity Fair

happy valentine's day

-from a girl without a billet-doux

twenty one.

2010-02-14T01:03:00.002-05:00

sorry it's the thirteenth.

twenty.

2010-02-12T09:01:00.000-05:00

Consider it some evil form of sunrise karma, but I was definitely at the office at 7:14 in the a.m.

And my card wouldn't grant me access.

I then sat on the floor for 45 minutes, until K.Orsini rescued my numb butt. Great start to the day.

Why is this important? It's not. I just refuse to dive into work right away since it turned its back on me.

And to waste more time, here's a picture of what I saw this morning.

(via MSalmi78)

Every day my commute gets more interesting...

nineteen.

2010-02-11T17:56:00.003-05:00

In the essence of chance, unpredictability, sadness and the lameness of that ridiculous "holiday" approaching, my Valentine would only scribble something down somewhere and make sure I got it sometime.

Try, "you are the smell before rain"....because that lyric makes me fall in love.

"if you've got an impulse, let it out"

Can music be my passionate complement? Or is that sort of devoid of the point of music?

quake.

2010-02-10T18:50:00.000-05:00

Now I know why I woke up at 4 am this morning to pick up things that had fallen from my bed.

I live in Logan Square.

eighteen.

2010-02-10T16:12:00.000-05:00

Work today has been overly stellar. Birthday parties, site editing, and Philly discussion. That is all.

seventeen.

2010-02-10T02:56:00.000-05:00

i'm not going to be overly giddy about this. But. see that girl up above staring at you? that's how I feel right now.

and he gave me my first homemade cigarette. see max, you weren't my first hipster drag! Sigh. This feels amazing.

sixteen.

2010-02-09T17:28:00.000-05:00

Due to my newfound love for Pandora by way of my new favorite station–Bonnie 'Prince' Billy meshed with Pinback, I've finally found a Death Cab song I absolutely swooningly adore:

Long Division

when I have time I'll look up the lyrics and see if they're relevant...just as I always do...

is it snow time yet?

fifteen.

2010-02-09T12:02:00.001-05:00

In honor of the fact that it's snowing it's ass off outside, I'd like to sing you a song.

You triflin', you good for nothing type of brother
Silly me,why haven't I found another
A baller, when times get hard he's the one to help me out
instead of, a scrub like you who don't know what a man's about

can you pay my biiiiiiiills
can you pay my telephone biiiiiills
can you pay my automo'bills
if you did, then maybe we can chill
I don't think you do
so you and me are through

she sings automo' bills. that's amazing.

zendesk is totally empty right now, so my site-editing tush is sippin' coffee and humming destiny's child. i have snowballin' dates latah, since i can't make it to this. i adore the snow!

fourteen.

2010-02-09T00:47:00.003-05:00

delilah's. had a cigarette from a dude from portland. drunk text session with wicker park ryan. he's kind of an asshole, but I guess that's why I dig him. he's relatable to me. god does that boy know how to kiss.

intermission.

2010-02-08T13:14:00.002-05:00

Yes, I mean it. Don't bother; I don't want you here.

BAD DAY=AMARETTO COFFEE after work. I need a

You wait
You wait
You wait for summer,
Then you wait for rain
You wait
You wait
You wait for darkness then you wait for day
Yeah, you wait
You wait
You wait

And she said patience, patience, darling
Patience, patience, it will come

You wait
You wait
You wait for August,
Then you wait for May
You wait
You wait
You wait to get up,
Then you wait to play
You wait
You wait
You wait for someone that'll make the waiting worth the wait
You wait
You wait
You wait

And she says patience, patience, darling
Patience, patience, it will come

thirteen.

2010-02-07T17:14:00.000-05:00

It's apparent that I have to let go, so I'm doing so. I'm trying. I was never very good at letting go of anything, especially something that put such a ridiculous and purely passionate smile on my face.

But everyone always says that.

And in a year, much has changed. I've moved. I've moved again. I've learned the convenience and compelling necessity of making friends wherever you go. I've managed to shut the hell up and just start learning. I got a dog. I gave her away. I lost the closest, dearest friend to me tragically, and I'm still somehow in denial. I went through the biggest family crisis I've ever had to endure, and realized just how weak I could unfortunately be. I've colored my hair a couple of time. I got a real job, and actually thought twice about the meaning of responsibility. I still haven't hurt myself enough to know when I should protect myself from it. Stupid. I've changed. A lot. Old things don't scare me anymore.

I know what I want. I know exactly what I want. If I could have what I want, I would take it.

You can play along if you want.

twelve.

2010-02-06T16:40:00.001-05:00

I'm trying to find cookies for Dustin. It's his birthday today, and I'm hell-bent on staying strong in my birthday treat delivery for the year. It was a sort of mental resolution I made with myself—whether you can stick a candle in it or not, every friend of mine is getting some sort of sugary birthday fix on the actual day of their birthing anniversary.
So it's all up and down Damen and Armitage to look for some store bought treasure. I just can't get myself to bake a damn thing. Roommate Sarah once said she used to bake by pretending she was a 50s housewife, cigarette dangling, dressed all in primp, apron on and perfecting the conglomeration of a sugary, battered mess. I can definitely see the allure.

I'm a little sad I'm only searching in the closed mid-day hours of this place, which I could see myself throwing money at. In reflection of the massive east coast snowmageddon, I'm dreaming in whisps of hot chocolate. And in Chicago, there's the part of River North where, when you're wandering around outside or in, you can smell chocolate scents hanging in the air due to the Blommer factory.

I'm happily continuing my promise of doing something different every day (similar to last year's GTFOI, but not as extreme), and last night found me in interesting places (albeit still currently maintaining my karaoke virginity...I'd rather sing my own songs, anyway). I still over-tip the cabbies. Sigh. From now on I'm just going to try my hardest not to grab them alone.

........I like Sleigh Bells........

........I adore Luke's interesting eye toward shooting Chicago....this is his latest:

(via lukedudek)

I wonder if he forgets me. I don't think about it all the time...usually just when I pass a Panera, or put on a knit beanie, or have a bike cross in front of me, or smell cinammon swirling in a cup of coffee, or see any kind of camera at all, or hear someone mutter "my best friend", or meet anyone with his name, or when I see Luke....it's really not that often. I wonder if I still mean the same as I did when I was home. We were totally inseparable when I lived there, especially in the dead of the winter. Sharing cigarettes on porches and bike riding together and him mooching off whatever food I had in store. Maybe "best friend" isn't even the right word, because he was then, but what now? I miss him. I wish he would visit, and that we would make good on our roommate word. I've always been impatient, and although I've watched myself change drastically in a year, the impatience problem is constant. We were supposed to get breakfast the morning I left last weekend. He didn't call, again.

........This cafe I tuck myself into for hours on end just got all the more addicting. They have amaretto syrup. And, since it's been freaking ALBANY since I found the perfect cup of coffee (medium cup of dark roast with a shot of amaretto and two splenda), I'm perfectly zen......

.......i'm currently going through some sort of a quarter-life crisis. But Dustin says my entire life is a crisis....and I laughed and said yeah.....

eleven.

2010-02-05T17:10:00.002-05:00

the snow keeps falling into my eyelashes. I know that might look adorable, but lord is it a mind-fuck. Jarring.

ten.

2010-02-05T01:32:00.001-05:00

I had so many things I wanted to put in this blank space, today. I have all these tidbits of my day that just never found their place into conversation. I had a stellar playlist on my way to work this morning. Pinback, The Cribs, Yeasayer, Republic Tigers, a few more I can't remember. I wore heels all day.

I'm keeping my word. And that's the most fantastic Thursday higlight. I'm not copping out. I'm sticking to my promise of doing something different every day. Yesterday brought on a trainer kicking my ass, rendering me unable to descend down stairs all today. This evening I went to Pilsen to meet John, and he took me to this elaborate loft/art space/living area/dorm of my dreams, to go see a half-improv sketch. And it was amazingly and ridiculously perfect. The space is breath taking.....50 ft. ceilings...all exposed brick....hardwood florrs stretching in either direction the size of my high school gym, a hanging swing, bedrooms hidden in nooks. Sigh. Yes.

my life right now doesn't really play out in a song so much as it can match the track listing of Bonnie 'Prince' Billy's ''The Letting Go'' (my album of choice right now, but I stay unbiased)

love comes to me
strange form of life
wai
cursed sleep
no bad news
cold&wet
big friday
lay and love
the seedling
then the letting go
god's small song
I called you back

have you ever thought of that? Not drowning your head in a song, but applying an entire track list to how you're feeling. And God, how he's beautiful on this, which adds to the twinkle of the list. He sounds like a folk rendition of Austin Lucas.

nine.

2010-02-03T18:56:00.000-05:00

[via slipper buddha]

this. please.

eight.

2010-02-03T00:48:00.000-05:00

i've never before been this content and excited with laying in bed, twinkle lights flickering, record softly playing, the comfiest clothes on after the most exhausting day, knowing I can finally, finally, go...to....sleep. Sigh. This right here, had to be documented. I'm sorry everyone, but if you need me here on out you have to wait until I shake this coma i'm already slipping into....Glory....

seven.

2010-01-31T00:50:00.002-05:00

I will force these keys to tap and bend if I have to. I may not know what to say, but I know how to say it and I know I have something to say. The strength in my meaning is pulsating my thoughts, and I just can't stop tapping and tip tapping my toes to the air.

You have to start with a descript...you have to blend the way it makes you move into what will make them move...

so hush. i'm thinking.

if honesty is something that can never be discovered by spoken proxy, then rest assured you still find it laying on the lips. flicker your eyes up and down to a smile, a gaze; a smile, a gaze.....oh, there you are, _____. you were telling me the truth all along....
why do they like you? why do you not care? are you caught in the middle of self-and-social-discovery?
how do we fall? how do we prioritize? why are we enabled with the ability to misunderstand, over-react, forget, fall-out, and wickedly envy?
i want to throw my arms and head and patience on a table and heavily sigh in more thinking. always thinking. analyzing. this comes from having no other choice but to. i've lived my life succinctly moving on passionate and honest feelings. it's only recently that i've been dropping the line "i should have said"....and i tend to over-compensate because of it.

the word of the week is irrelevant, because in the end it comes down to being at the bottom of my bottle. it's muddled with sediment and it's titled "distraction", and it looks a lot like you did that last time you looked at me that way. i wish i really could make up my own rules and tell life to chill the fuck out while i waste a little more time...i wouldn't ever hit snooze—i'd wake up even earlier to touch things and breathe in different elevations with you. i'm not sure when i decided that, but i did.

he's breathing nervously and she doesn't know why, since it was her anticipatory heart that started racing long before he was awake. she's got that confused-finger-numb deal working right now, where her thumb is hot but her middle finger is freezing--for no apparent reason; the left leg is stinging because her right one is so firmly holding the left in a crossing that is cutting off circulation, and she wants to paint her nails a jade green. make the fingers the same temperature. stop looking at his stupid smile that she missed just a shy too much.
she wants to make her communication like next-day snow. packed together and perfect for playing in. conversation that is simple and full and still pretty.
nothing is working.
is amazing how every little detail--every little detail that should be overlooked or shrugged off or given a due eye roll--is more interesting than the last.
because she's still a kid. she still gets excited over the first things she ever learned, only....it's more than 20 years later, so the details just get more involved. the discovery in the trial and error is mind-blowing. she guesses he gets that. and two birds of a feather will flock together. she hopes.

i get it
i get it
i get it
and i want to scream that over and over again in song, and i can even hear the way the music falls around the words. when i was really really little i used to tell every bitter old person (read: older than 15 years of age) that life IS fair, because looking at the bigger picture, this is life and karma controls all and everything balances it out—looking. at. the. bigger. picture.
that was the only time that i tried to be introspective and positive all at once and my mom told me i was mistaken. even her, in all her religion, told me i was wrong. it took only this year for me to both recall and reject my wise toddler outlook all in the same second.

but the coping mechanisms these days are quite elaborate and distracting. like the sound my heels make on a cold sidewalk. echoey and crisp all at once. that's a distraction i like. but i'd rather lay for four hours in the comfiest bed, in the comfiest of clothes, with the snow making silence outside and my smiles breaking smile-boundaries while i look into the goosebump-inducing eyes of the most realistic shrugged-off person i know. distractions come to an end, reality is woken up, and all is okay.

six.

2010-01-19T13:34:00.002-05:00

"Damn. Are you okay?"

"....I guess I don't know....I guess I don't have a choice..."

this one can't be figured out.

high five.

2010-01-17T15:44:00.001-05:00

The consequences of Absolut in one hand, orange juice in the other, and a stellar DJ at a house party:

Bad decisions. But at least they were funny.

1) Slathering your entire after-party diner meal of veggie omelet, potatoes and toast in mustard and then inhaling it.
2) Calling Philadelphia and leaving an eight minute long message describing -- what -- how the CTA works?
3) Saying "screw the bus" and whipping out your card to pay for a $7 taxi ride then tipping him 101%.
4) Deciding you're the only one in the house packed of 100 plus people that can dance and get on top of the front row speakers with your friend to prove it.
5) Actually entertain the idea of bouncing on the bill from the crazy lady waitress. Didn't do this though. I'm not a thief, so I paid my share while my even more drunk friend wasn't allowed to leave. It ended up okay though.
6) Texting so much that your phone dies mid-party and you get the entire half section of the house scouring for a plug to charge it, and somehow no one wanted to steal it instead...
7) Working the set for the visuals. I swear that computer ran the entire city of Chicago. Intense.
8) Actually asking a homeless dude for money...and getting a dollar out of it. (I was pissed and he was annoying--I didn't think it would seriously work)
9) Coming home and balling your eyes out then passing out on your bedroom floor with the dog on your head.

God that was a fun night. I can't decide what's a better way to unleash the pressure of a long week of work and horrible news--having a cute boy serenade you your favorite Brand New song with a killer guitar, or having an entire house move with you to the best DJ set that's been played this side of Girl Talk--at a show I didn't have to pay for because I keep knowing the right people.
Forget deciding which is better--I think the point is that I even have the option of deciding.

And here is where the humbling comes along. It's been a bad week. Every day seemed like a day of bad news, until the devastating blow I got yesterday morning. Then everything got really scary. All I ask is that you keep my family in your thoughts, and if you see me, please have a hug ready. I'm switching my goals from just trying to make it to trying to make the most of it.

four.

2010-01-16T14:39:00.002-05:00

The Chicago Auto Impound: The pit of hell.
Did I get my car back? Of course, but not without having to down two glasses of big pours of wine to bulk up my attitude. I'm so glad I did.

Yelpers give this place a miraculous star and a half. It's creepy, it's dirty, it's the epitome of Ghetto, it's absolutely a place where you learn about drugs.
After battling it out with the co-workers for an evening, they finally released me to get my car, and Jhon picked me up for the expedition. I had heard it was a trailer, but it's not JUST a trailer. It's a crazy mud pile with broken wooden slats leading you up to an aluminum box, where inside, hoards of people you'd see as subjects on any given forensic show were staring at me when I walked in.

What the hell--there's a line? A line? Don't you just, give them your registration and go? Naw--not when you're dealing with drug issues and broken batteries and stolen shit...I just kept my stance.
Then in walks this pretty little white girl with glasses and a brunette ponytail and a fucking mission.

"I need an escort; I'm a single female and I am NOT going back there to get my car ALONE!"
sigh.

She was a nice little addition on the whole trip. I have no idea why her car ever ended up there, but Jhon liked her and quickly formed a connection. "She was cute..." Oh boy.

I got the car--I just played nice and everything worked out fine within 45 minutes. I never feared for my life, and it was snowing, which put a comforting glaze on the situation.

..............

My roommate's girlfriend is in town and she's a doll. Mostly though, I really liked waking up to the smell of an amazing breakfast he had cooked for the both of them. It wasn't prepared with extras, but the entire situation was just kind of freaking adorable, so I left them to that and am running errands before work. They're watching over Pigeon, and honestly it was weird to watch such a cute couple lounging around drunk with happiness on a lazy Saturday. It was like watching the past through some alternate reality window....

I want to have someone visit for sure...cook breakfast and litter the day with whatever the hell my mind comes up with. Ryan is clearing his schedule, and people keep dropping the "I wanna..." line.

I'm kinda torn on which place is home. Is it going back or is it going home? It's comforting here--everything is always a challenge and life just feels better. I always find myself nightly somewhere I'd never imagined I'd be that morning. That's a damn good feeling.

three.

2010-01-15T14:38:00.002-05:00

This is going to have to be ridic-quick, since I'm swamped at work and have much on my mind. But, again, I have much on my mind...so....let's unleash this jawn.

First topic: Jawn is a Philly word and they don't use it in Chicago, and I'm the last person to figure that one out.

Secondly: Since last night will be easiest to recap, here it is.
I took the commute home and my plans had been to go from work to dinner, where I would meet Marina and her friend Git (don't fucking pronounce this as 'jit'). Then, Marina and I would go for gym trip number two of the week.

No.

Drove my butt to dinner since it was going to be way late, and proceeded to order the closest thing to Wilamette Pinot that I could. Downed it. Ate a veggie burger. Had great chit and chat about awkward work moments, nick names that should be awkward but aren't, and finding out Git was going to Philly tomorrow (our technical hometowns), and he spent college days in Pittsburgh.

Wait, what?

So we had a long, long, long, very long, long conversation that literally went on all night involving 'yins-speak and fast talking and Brand New and being an asshole and how Chicago doesn't get it and it went on forever. I had a blast.

Do you realize how quickly Jameson and diets and dollars in the jukebox fly and turn into the perfect night?

Do you realize how quickly a perfect night turn into a face-palm morning?

This morning, I woke up, got a text from my roommate that Pigeon peed on her bed at night. And, after half an hour of two people looking, I couldn't figure out where the hell my glasses were. Eventually that search disaster migrated to my car location...which...was nowhere, since it had been fucking towed. Because somehow, Git was a great driver on the road, but can't tell Parking from No Parking.

$160 per day for my car in a locked lot, in a place that doesn't like to invite public transportation, on a day when I have both jobs lined up, and Git goes to Philly at 4 pm.

Fail.

...............
Yeah, that's all I have time for. I'll try my best to put the seriously interesting things up here, but it's getting a little hard distinguishing who and who I should not talk about. What do you think, should I name drop or keep it hush hush?

two.

2010-01-12T07:55:00.001-05:00

For obvious purposes, I won't put up a picture of this one, but my careless tush got another City of Chicago Violation Notice. For $75. As "road obstruction".

The catch?

They wrote Michigan plates, and left without a VIN number. Smile!

..........

Bank deposit: yeah
Change of address: done
Riding on four buses and two trains on my way home: blast :)

one.

2010-01-10T20:03:00.003-05:00

Littered among my many firsts and will-be firsts are: traveling to Paris (done), actually LIKING it (to be done), soaring and falling out of a plane (soon, I swear), making out with boys both seven years younger and older than me (check and check), and grocery shopping for and by myself (tick, tock).

Seriously. I’ve never gone grocery shopping for myself. This is both shameful and embarrassing, as I’m 25 and have been living out of my parents house since I was a timid 19 years determined for a life of independence. I’ve gone WITH people, obviously, and when it came time to grab some grub and guzzle for wherever I was, I either told the buyers what I would eat or just danced around the store pointing and nodding at pretty things. But the majority of my dining came from my six plus years of serving experience and reveling in the free house cooked meals I could sucker away from the kitchen. Leftovers are key, as are tempting boys and friends alike to indulge in the delicacy of The Restaurant, The Diner, The Coffee House, The Parents’ House.

So, here I go. I count it as still fair and balanced that I enlisted the help of another Chicago newbie living single, my friend D. He and I are headed armed and loaded with list and cash to set our fridges straight.

.............

I ended up with $105 worth of amazingness.

I ate at Orange, a "contemporary brunch place" that catered to my orange coffee fix, omelet perfection, and my need to try a need vodka (Absolut Boston, my new favorite).

..............

Pretty sure I should update the everything that's been happening. And I have only one rule: do nothing, go nowhere twice. Only indulge in the undiscovered. Take pictures, meet people, forget names. That entire list is indeed one rule.

Have fun.

2009-12-01T14:42:00.001-05:00

this site is now undergoing maintenance.

previous posts are readable, but not for long.

stay tuned for the newsletter.

Something I came across....like a flipped-over penny in the street, that I threw down two years ago and forgot about.

2009-11-12T02:11:00.003-05:00

twentyseventhandpoplar (my new and permanent warning label)

i don't know if you're listening.

i don't even know if you can hear me.

or, for the sake of reality, READ THIS.

but, it's the right time, right now. this is the right time. so i'm taking it, viciously. grabbing the moment by the minute and viciously raping it with what i have to say. i'm writing it now, and it's so, so loud. so that you will hear this. you will know this, when you finally bring yourself out of denial.

i gave my heart away a long time ago -- though you're awful nice. a sweet person, and one who is capable of calming at least one level of my flighty tendencies. but deep down, under layer upon layer upon layer upon layer upon layer is the heather i was born as. and she gave her heart away. a long time ago. and i don't think i can get it back, because i don't want it back. ever.

you're such a fun person to be around, and a great rope of rescue for a night, a swell way to spend some time away. but the rawest of my feelings are still swirling in memories, and i doubt they'll ever calm.

it is love i am sick with, and it will be that way forever.
forgive me if i sound ridiculous, but how i am received is not important. the message i carry is.
i am not even TRYING to fall out of love -- this i know cannot be done, and i'm complacent in that -- but i am trying to live with the knowledge that i am not needed any longer. the love of my entire soul, for the rest of its life, is away from me, and has treated me in the cruelest of fashion. i know you wish to save me from this, and to settle the score in hurt, but it cannot be done. i do not wish to be saved from this, and i believe every sufferance will have its balance.
i wish to be here, and to fill my days with wonder and love, if only on my own.

i'm not too sure that you'll understand this for years, because it's me you desire to fall in love with, but i will not let it happen. you see, i am caring and compassionate toward those closest to me, but i am not able to love how i was meant to. not to anyone else but him. i will suffer in silence. i will reach out to him, and to you (in a completely separate sense), and it will never equate.

i will form relationships with multiple people. i can use my lips to find passion in the tenderest of moments -- in the height of rain, the first fall of snow, amid tears in pain, a new year's celebration...or two. but never again will i be able to wrap my heart along side my kiss. it belongs to someone, even though he'd rather not have it. he'd much rather ignore it; give it back so i can piece it back together for someone else.
but this doesn't matter. perhaps only through the cherished experience of true love will you realize that once it is given, it is matched forever.

i could give him anything in the world -- he only wants pain. i hold on and hold on, finger by broken finger and with a ripped apart voice, and it tears me apart. but i have given my heart away and it will always stay that way. through anger, and bitterness, and silence, and misfortune. i have accepted that my love is unrequited. i love unconditionally.

i appreciate your touch, and your kind, beautiful words. you will find someone that clicks with you, and when they say they don't believe in fate, don't hold it against them. it is a miraculous thing to have found such happiness, and don't waste a shared smile, or laughter of the closest kind.

i have held so close to me the reasoning that to have loved and lost is better than to never have loved at all. i have screeched the words of ultimate pain, formed only by love that is bewitched by the harshest of pain. i have endured "busy" after "busy" after "no more", but still he holds my hope. my friends and family are sick of the stories. literally, they wince at the very mention of his name. when did staying in love get old? when did my time to hurt run out?

love is a never-ending learning experience. and the bible, if anything, chooses its words delicately and correctly. patient, kind, does not envy, does not boast, is not proud, IT KEEPS NO RECORD OF WRONGS...and so on cliche so on. but truest in the most serious of sense.

i thank you for your time.

for your care.

for your patience.

do not leave, and do not forget me. i am still here to humble myself and i have much to learn from you and more to experience at your side. but please know that my heart has been taken, so long ago. every morning, my first face at my side is only one person, even though he is miles away. when i am excited, i rush to find a way to tell him. when i hurt, i still look for his kiss to fix the uh-oh. when i glance at an image of him from long ago, i feel calm and full. he will forever be it. always. it is a promise i made without really knowing. i uttered the promise of forever to him without any consultation to my brain. it happened. i said it. i meant it. even through my worst.

i don't know if he'll ever come back for me. i am starting to doubt he will ever be a part of what i knew was my life. i cry, so much, so still, because i am starting to forget how he brushes his teeth, or when his favorite time to eat is, or how long his showers are, or what he'll listen to in the morning. but my heart doesn't care. it won't ever. he can ignore me for years. he can forget himself, and find what matters, and i don't have to be a part of it -- i will always be his. no matter who is in his arms.

it is sad to read, i know, but it doesn't feel that way, so no need to worry. or to pity. being in love is an amazing feeling, no matter what. you are confined to bittersweet memories every day; you remember what it's like to feel adored. the world disappears.

i gave my heart away a long time ago. and i don't ever want it back. although i could really do without waking from these dreams of reconnection. they definitely hurt. and that, well i can't even begin to explain.

note to self: thank god no one will read this. sometimes secrets are meant to be kept.

Newer Turn of Events! AHA!

2009-10-30T14:33:00.002-04:00

I have learned from my almost sick obsession with crosswords that "AHA" is, by crossword definition, "a palindromic cry". Yes.

Earlier in the year I mentioned that this outlet was changing direction and in a way, I meant that. It was the receiver for my paranoia of moving cross-country to a "big 'ole shaker of a city", and it turns out that I rarely needed it. Since these last months have passed by with almost nothing of a post, I'm turning it around again.

What I've been doing:
Freelancing
Using my writing to boost the image of PopWreckoning.com
Compiling and ReDoing and Upping the ante of my soon-to-be released site, Waitlisted Press
Living
Establishing even the most minute connections at the Social Media Lunch Table (I sit at the almost-cool-kid table)
I'm bored with this list already

As the week, and the month, comes to a close, November will be the re-vamp date for Don't Stop Staring, complete with name change. Feel free to dabble in the variety that is to come.
Any and all last-minute pinch suggestion will--as always--arrive in my e.mail inbox as you see fit.

i'm trying to sell myself.

2009-10-14T16:08:00.002-04:00

Please lend your stylishly lined eyes for a re-introduction, of sorts. Above all else—as a previous cover letter is attached—an update, on the goings on and the whereabouts of That Girl Lumb.

Who: Heather Samantha Nicole Lumb, a platinum hued little lady who soaks up energy and spits it out two-fold. With glitter and neon and the hippest tunes.

Her style: As long as you haven’t worn it quite the usual way, she digs it. We’re talking sash belts, tube dresses, petticoats, and feathered accessories, all re-imagined. Although she currently prefers tiny paintbrush charms to a dangling feather.

The reputation: Enthusiastic, stylistic, bombastic force of nature! The fastest researcher, a smooth and interested talker, and major organizer, this charmer loves being where the up-and-coming action will be. Just when you thought she didn’t wear heels anymore, she’ll teach you bikram yoga in some four-inch ankle booties. Toughie.

Where you’ve seen her: Making the first cut in the last *your company here* writer position opening, but being edged out in the finish. As hheeeaattthherr on Twitter. The spark behind the fire of Don’t Stop Staring on blogspot. The search result to your Googling of her name.

What’s included: A fury of only the best mixtapes. The mingling of the highest girls in indie music with *your company here* fashion (is that UUVVWWZ vintage shopping with the *your city ground* crew?) *again, your company* working with area fashion habitués to conjure up the ultimate in Thread Swaps and Vintage Block Parties. Road trip themed collections and tips to a pavement-led summer on wheels perhaps narrated by Punky Style, who kicks off the season with her traveling vintage flea market. A narrower version of *my slave for your command*—FurBall Edition, because a good chunk of your readers are proud pet owners who would love a RainBow-Wow hoodie for Fido. A conversationalist voice that readers connect with and can laugh to—an equal part mixture of quirk, experience and giddiness. BS in fashion merchandising to understand words like “chambray”, and the “distressed” and “embellished” difference. A barista on premise, and Post-It pick-me-up aficionado.

And now, a word from the platinum hued little lady….

From the 3 o’ clock slump to the titles of the printed dresses, I pick up what you’re throwing down. More formally, I understand the voice, the passion, the creativity that fuels a small company like *yers* to grow to the powerhouse it’s becoming. I admit to receiving that message two months ago—“we felt that there were other applicants from this pool of candidates whose style fit better into the *this is you again* brand”…and that was the only time I hadn’t connected with and benefited from a *company that i love but didn't want me* decision. I’m quite aware that I do live and breathe the brand, and the constant stream of enthusiastic ideas I have seem tailor made for it. Better yet, I’m a first generation bookmarker. The site hasn’t left the second spot on the favorites bar since love at first click.

A fresh approach is my “give it another go” mantra, or my antidote to boredom. This will definitely be the one quirk I can promise to deliver to *the best co.-yours*…and it will even come with an infectious smile and dance routine right through the 5 o’clock slump.

2009-09-15T16:30:00.001-04:00

all i want......this is all i ever want.....

(via amalinny and her flickr)

2009-08-03T15:40:00.003-04:00

i'm so freaking nervous.

it's ridiculous to be this insanely anxious....but there's no one around to hand me directions on the chicago survival bible.

i got me a new job to handle the nighttime downtime whilst i work on my freelancing. it just so happens that i am revisiting my past for a server career. just to see what it's like in the city. new restaurants, although unnerving in general because it is like a career clique, don't fill me with dread, so to speak. but this, this place? i'll be lucky if i make it there without passing out. i have not put food to my lips in the past 16 hours and 45ish minutes, so the passing out is entirely possible.

i'm just so twitchy. this place is small; the most casual place i've ever served (i don't really understand the TOO casual atmosphere), and i could tell right away it was a bunch of people who were very, very close. breaking into that is going to be the hardest part.

i don't know where to park. manager man told me to drive. so i said okay, but i don't know where to park. paranoia is a blessing. i may take the train in today and drive tomorrow. see? a lot of this writing is just nervous chatter going around in my head.

i need an outlet of calm. i need someone to count on and to fetch me my coffee, a minion. and then when i meet someone new and alien to this city, i can help THEM out, and they can count on me. it all goes around in a circle, capeto?

Mission One.

2009-07-27T12:46:00.003-04:00

It was inevitable, that this would eventually supply the outlet to my city searching.

We're still unpacked, and ransacked. No cable, no gas. Electricity and hot water all work, we have a mattress in the bedroom, and ac installed there, too.

Today's Search: THE PERFECT COFFEE SPOT

pre-destination report:
I've chosen "The Common Cup", based on the adoration from yelp reviewers.
I'm looking for a comfy but non-secluded joint that offers free-wifi, reasonably priced coffee, good people, and chairs that won't numb my butt.

after-effect:

Not bad. But not totally the miracle I thought it was going to be. They had good coffee, good music, good, quiet atmosphere--everything a freaking coffee shop is supposed to be. But no clutter. No actual "charm" that made me melt along with the chips in my cookie. The chairs weren't all that great, but that's the biggest complaint I can muster up. An absolute divine choice if I'm nearby and need a chummy cup to go, but nothing I'd devote my precious time and butt to, if I had to stay.

It was either Karma, or a bad cup of coincidence.

2009-07-13T09:05:00.002-04:00

I'm now technically a resident of Chicago.
But there was a time when I was all set to head to Pittsburgh, for what I had considered to be hands-down the perfect job that was in no way created for anyone but me.
And then I was rejected after my second interview.
I cried, of course, like a little baby who had the most precious lollipop stolen.
This morning, while checking the daily grind in the facebook universe, I saw a college friend post, "First day at my new job at Modcloth".

........what.

Once upon a time, a discovery like this (Modcloth had been that career apple of my eye, of course) would lead me to get my forehead well acquainted with a hard wall. This particular friend, however, has a darling personality and if anyone, she deserves the position I'm sure. So congrats to her. I'll be toasting her at least ten times tonight.

Daily Candy also sent out a music list to the region of Chicago this morning in the Daily Candy e.mail (ta-dah!).....but it needs some adjusting. Their picks, and mine, below.

Every summer deserves a soundtrack. Slip on your headphones, sip some gin and juice, tune out the tube, and settle into a kickin’ mix of hot sounds.

“Sushi,” by Kyle Andrews
(Under the radar, above par.)

BETTER: "Skeleton Boy," by Friendly Fires

“Little Secrets,” by Passion Pit
(Dance off.)

BETTER: "Percussion Gun," by White Rabbits

OR: "The Reeling," by Passion Pit

“1901,” by Phoenix
(Meant to follow Passion Pit on a mix.)

BETTER: "Red Dress," by TV On The Radio

OR: "Fences," by Phoenix

“California on My Mind,” by Wild Light
(You’ll appreciate da bass.)

BETTER: "Got Nuffin," by Spoon

“Oxford Comma,” by Vampire Weekend
(Vampires are so hot right now. Sigh, Edward.)

BETTER: "Osaka Loop Line," by Discovery

“Two Weeks,” by Grizzly Bear
(A modern throwback to ’50s piano grooves.)

BETTER: "I Can Tell," by White Denim

“Tears on My Pillow,” by Little Anthony and The Imperials
(Real ’50s pop.)

BETTER: "Ah! Leah!," by Donnie Iris

“On the Alamo,” by Benny Goodman & His Orchestra
(What music sounded like — before TV rotted our brains.)

BETTER: "American Patrol," by Glenn Miller and His Orchestra

“Rumble ’69,” by Link Wray
(A badass surf song.)

BETTER: "Devil's a-Go-Go," by Blitzen Trapper

“New York in the Fall,” by Matt Sucich with The Vanderettes
(Sometimes it’s okay to be sad.)

BETTER: "Made Concrete," by The Republic Tigers

“Dear Chicago,” by Ryan Adams
(It’s fitting. Geographically.)

BETTER: "Chicago," by Sufjan Stevens

“See Fernando,” by Jenny Lewis
(For a good time, watch the video.)

BETTER: This is actually okay. Pass.

“Good Times Are Gone Forever,” by Two White Horses
(Better than Xanax.)

BETTER: "Stillness Is The Move," by Dirty Projectors

Mmm. Sweaty.