alcohol

It's an upper, until it becomes a downer.

you go in for a massage...

feel completely re-energized, realize throughout the day that your slowly being covered in bruises, go to bed, sleep great, wake-up with more bruises. My ass and hips look like I sat on a bunch of raspberries. My right thigh is one big bruise. Two small bruises above each boob, one small one on each arm. But, totally worth it.

I've had a lot of massages, the fluff and stuff, the found a kink, worked it out kind, but yesterday I found a gal who when I said, "I want a deep tissue massage, full of elbows, and here's where it hurts." ...and she actually listened. Truly, I felt like I was on speed all day my body, besides the bruises, feels amazing.

On another note: Follow-up date tonight with the 26 year-old. Does that make me a cougar? I don't think it does, but you all would probably know more than me. Grrr. Bruises are hot, right?
However, thinking this one has a shelf-life. It may be expiring tonight. Could be wrong. He's 26 after all and talks like he's 26. Odd. I look forward to the day when there is no shelf-life, or at the very least, not feel like there is one.
Someday.

Just sayin'

VH1 actually plays music!

Although this discovery happened at 3:31 in the a.m. I am sure the music channel will resume showing music videos during regular business hours any day now.

Sure of it.

inner dork: so that's where it came from

Ever wonder how phrases become part of our lexicon? You don't? Well I do.

Did you know:

The reason we call letters upper case and lower case is because printers kept (keep)capital letters in the upper case drawers and small letters are kept in the lower case drawers.

Honeymoon comes from the Babylonian era (say, 4,000 years ago) when it was customary for a father-in-law to give his new son-in-law a months worth of mead, a honey-based beer, during a calendar month, which was based on a lunar schedule.

Wetting your whistle comes from English pubs where a whistle was baked into the handle of a mug. When a customer wanted another beverage, they would whistle to the bartender.

Raining cats and dogs comes from the Middle Ages when a thatched roof was common. Animals and vermin would crawl into the thatch, but would often fall through the thatch. This is also where canopy beds come from, the better to protect the sleeper from falling vermin.

The reason the first novels are so dang long is because authors were paid per word, not per book. Ala, the longer the book, the bigger the paycheck. Hence, all those adjectives. Also, the reason for serial novels, all the better to keep the income coming in.

Minding your P's and Q's, this has a lot of variations, but the most common one is that it was bar lingo, for pints and quarts.

That concludes today uselessness.

On a side note: posts three days in a row?!?!?!!? Way to go PG!

I'm trying, okay?

So, last night I went out on a date.

The date went well. Lots of conversation, lots of laughs, provided by me, of course. I mean, I am hilarious. Just fyi.
Oh, and an insistence, by him, that I sing along to "Ice, Ice Baby" in his car. I, of course, obliged without much forethought or worry of embarrassing myself. He did not sing along.
I harassed him about that.

I'm sure there will be a follow-up of a second date. I'm working on getting past my first date dismissing technique. (Old habits.)

I ended the date around 12:30 claiming I had a big day of homework ahead of me. Although true, the real truth is that I was sitting with a lovely gentleman, but wishing I was sitting with someone else.

I know, I know. (repeat a million-thousand more times.)

But when your sitting across from someone and wishing it was someone else, is that fair to either person? Um, no.

When there are lapses as to what the person's name is, because you want to call them London, yeah, probably not good.

So, even though the date went very well, I found myself coming home very sad. Sad and mad at myself. (This seems to be a theme as of late.) (I'm working on getting a knew theme.) (Perhaps a theme song??)

Maybe it's because London was supposed to come and visit me this past weekend, planned since March, but the trip had to be postponed. And although I knew (KNEW) it would not workout because this is the third time in less than a year where it has not worked out, still, in the back of my head I had hoped. (I mean, c'mon.)
So, maybe that's why I was sad. That and all the bullshit from this past weekend with Fucktard and his comments, maybe all that combined made me sad last night.

Maybe.

Although during my bathroom breaks, I did tell myself in the mirror I am awesome, hot, and anyone would be lucky to date me. (Affirmations are the key to success.) (Just don't say them aloud, cause then you're seen as crazy and the other girls in the bathroom will tell their friends about you and they will point and laugh.) (Just fyi.)

I know part of the problem is that we never saw (London and I)(and still haven't seen) the worst of each other. It makes it easy to think two people should be together when you still believe the other person is perfect (or at the very least is virtually flawless) when you haven't seen (or had to put up with) someones flaws.

It's ridiculous, I know.
I feel slightly (or a little more than) pathetic about the whole thing.

I'm working on it, okay?

random thoughts

I know, I haven't done very well at the "I will try to post everyday" promise. Although, if you count "try" then I have done well, you just aren't aware of it.

Anyway, I don't know if there is anything to report on the life of little 'ol me or not. There is a lot of randomness, so, randomness is what I will write about.

Classes started last week. Nothing to exciting there, except that no professor knows how to say my name and I have to repeat it several times in a row before they even get close to not butchering it. PAR-tee Girl. Say it with me. Say it with me at least 4 times.

Good, Professor.

This semester will be heavy on the papers. Lots of dead trees. I am taking 13 credits.

Nine credits is full time.

I went out nine days in a row. On the tenth day my liver rebelled against me.

I'm not sleeping. You know, something new and different.

I apologize for reading, but not commenting on all of your posts as of late.

I have the prospect of a date tonight.

Let's hope it goes well.

As a result of all my epiphanies from the summer I am still learning more about myself each day.

It has been an emotional and in many ways, sad journey. Oh, the thoughts I have forgotten to think and the memories I was successful at forgetting all come rushing back.

I'm not saying I have been sitting in a corner rocking back and forth, just saying I'm glad I've had a month to myself.

London emailed to say, after an official inquiry by the Royal Post Office, my painting is lost.

Poop stain.

In watching my best gal with her boyfriend it made me very sad. I realized over this past weekend that the reason why is because I miss that feeling. Particularly the feeling I had for London. Time to move on, I know this, but a person cannot always control their feelings.

Even though I practice female control and taking control over emotional, mentally, and physical abuse from their partners, I find I make excuses for people when they are verbally abusing me.

For example, a male who is in the MPP program says he is just being honest, but in reality he is just being down right mean. (I know that sounds very kindergarten-ish, but it's true) After confronting him, again, about this fact over the weekend, I was, once again, blasted by his "honesty."

This honesty contained comments about how sexy and beautiful I am, but apparently I am fat and need to lose weight.
I'm stuck-up.
My life goal, although admirable, is ridiculous and will never be fulfilled.
Walking out the backdoor of the bar and having him grab me and stick his tongue down my throat.
Being persistently asked to have sex with him.

My responses included:
the number on the scale does not dictate my self worth. (Fucktard.)
I am incredibly sexy regardless of the number on the scale.
Just because I do not wish to smell your farts or your belches does not mean I am stuck-up. You're an imbecile.
If I change one life, then I have changed the world.
Screaming, repeatedly, that I do not, nor will I, make out with him, nor have sex with him.

My excuses for him have been, that it's just Fucktard, and he is only like this when he drinks.
A fucktard is a fucktard regardless of the reasons behind it.
No more. I'm done.

Unfortunately, we are a group, we have classes, breaks, and we go out as a group every Thursday. Sadly, I may have to isolate myself in order to avoid him.

Yes, he is a fucktard.
Yes, it is easy to make excuses and fall into old habits. I realize this, I hate this, it will change as of right now.

Thanks to my apartment pool I have an awesome tan.

Thanks to going out nine days in a row all of my healthy eating has been contradicted.

Oh, well.

I've realized that when someone matters to me I am willing to fight for it, be open, honest, and let my guard down. With some coaxing, this can be done. Hey, babysteps.

I have a date tonight.

Let's hope the date goes as well as the phone conversation did last night.

Upon my return back to Small State U City

After being away all summer from my crappy-ass apartment, the thing I missed the most, aside from the freedom of living by myself, walking around naked, making a mess and not having to worry about cleaning it up, taking a shower and leaving the bathroom door open while getting soapy and wet, and living out my sexual fantasies; aside from all of that, the thing I missed most was my bed. I know, not exciting. But, after sleeping on an air mattress all summer, it loses its charm somewhere around 30 seconds into crawling into bed, my bed is pretty damn awesome right now.

Oh, and sleeping (almost) through the night. That was something that didn't happen this summer, either. That had something to do with a mother who works from home and starts her work day at 5:30 in the morning and her office is across the hall, a step-dad who hates his job and allows the alarm to go off several times, and a dog who dances outside my door with her dog tags clinking together awaiting my sleepy entrance into the hallway. Since I don't go to bed much before midnight, it made for a short night.

Since arriving back home, my apartment has rebelled against my reentry back to two-bedroom. Curtains inexplicably falling down, houseplants beyond dead, a shower head that sprays water everywhere but on me; however, I think after a few days, the ghosts of summer have left.
I have unpacked, cleaned (though not enough) redecorated my bedroom and bathroom (love the changes) Bedroom is lime, lemon, and white. Or white with lime green and lemon yellow accents. Clean, crisp, and the feel of tropical. Ah....
Bathroom, clean and simple in light blue and yellow.

Anyway...

Basically I've gone for a long walk everyday, worked on my tan, sat by my pool and been irritated by the 20 year-olds being obnoxious, gone out every night thus, counteracting my long daily walk. My guys missed me. The PG is back in town and they are determined to kill my liver. They're doing a good job.

Like the rest of the summer, this week has flown by. I start my volunteer job at the I Want to Travel Outside the Country Office next week (I really should look over the pamphlet I will be rewriting um, sometime before 9 a.m. on Monday) and I still need to find a job that will pay me; hopefully I will find one sometime before now and the end of the school year.
Still hoping for an assistantship.
...I probably shouldn't hold my breath.

Otherwise just enjoying the gorgeous weather, trying to suck every ounce out of the days before the grind of school starts on the 25th (ugh!)(Say it ain't so!) oh, and keep damaging my liver. It's good to have goals.

inner dork: wild kingdom

Did you know...

There are fewer than 1,000 giant pandas left in the world.

The giant African snail grows to a foot long and reaches weights greater than a pound.

The giant flying fox, native to Indonesia, has a wingspan of nearly 6 feet.

Giant tortoises can live to be 150 years old or older.

The giant Pacific octopus can fit its entire body through an opening no bigger than the size of its beak.

The giant squid is the largest creature without a backbone. It weighs up to two and a half tons and grows up to fifty-five feet long. Each eye is a foot or more in diameter.
(Eck!)

A donkey will sink in quicksand, but a mule will not.

A single sheep's fleece can contain as many as twenty-six million fibers.

...and now you know.

I wish I had more time

...to spend with friends, family, just in general people I like.

One of the things I like about this break from real life (ha!) called grad school, is that everyone has time. Time to do things, time to hang-out, go out, volunteer, be together, be stupid, has a common mission to save the world. (raises fist into the air.)

Okay, so I'm the only one who really believes the world can be changed, but still, my point is that when you hit a certain age, say 22-23, definitely by 24, your time starts to slip away. Your life is taken over by life. Life no longer consists of going out and being with friends, or at least not much past happy hour, it now consists of jobs, careers, weddings, babies, and being in bed around 10:30 to repeat it all again the next day. You know, the real world. Opposed to the one MTV presents of sex in hot tubs and going out and getting plastered every night while staying in a rent-free penthouse suite. Sure, that's just a Wednesday night for me, but I realize this is not the case for most people.

But I digress. (You know, something new and different.)

The fact that my fellow public policiers not only want to, but also have the time to go out, time to give on a Saturday to a cause, well, that's awesome and it also makes me sad. Sad, because they are 23 years old and have no idea. No idea that all of that free time will be going away. That to be busy now isn't just a nuisance, but it will be their reality in another 10 months. More than half of the students in the program came to grad school to get away from the real world. Because, "...it sucked."
Um, okay.
Yeah, it does. Deal with it.
I don't have an extra 40 grand laying around to postpone the suckatude, but apparently they do....

Anyway, this summer I've had time. For the first time in a long while, I've had time to be with friends, go to movies, and just be. I stayed an extra week at the 'rents so I could try and be with friends back in home state, go out, and relive some old times while making some new times for just one more week.

Last night Billy and I hit the local brew pub for happy hour, then went to a local live music venue to enjoy six (some good, some bad) bands. We didn't plan to stay very long.
Famous last words.
We closed it down.
We laughed, remembered, talked of old and promised to make new times together. My dearest friend whom I've know since I was 19. The friend who knows my history because he was there with me when it happened. The person I am comfortable with, can be with, not feel judged, or misunderstood. That's an awesome feeling to have. When I told him I am guarded, he laughed. He doesn't know that side of me. In the end I am glad we had the time together we did, and that I had time with all of the friends, and former co-workers, because gosh, I had no idea how much I was missed and what kind of impact I had on people...but that's another day....
Time. We could all use a little more of it, no?

rain check

Rain check is a baseball term. It originated back in the 1870s and was used when a game was canceled due to a rainstorm. The audience was given tickets, free of charge, to attend a game at a later date.

Fascinating, isn't it?

After attending a baseball game today, in what had to be tropical Sub-Sahara desert like conditions, (and no, I don't care that those contradict each other) I would have liked a rain check. Hell, just some rain. Or say, even a cool breeze would have been nice. Instead, my only comfort came from the bottle of beer between my breasteses. And, gee, that's really just counterproductive. Cold-ish cleavage, warm-ish beer. It's a lose-lose really.

The tropical condition was in terms of the brick wall-like humidity that I was slammed in the face with as soon as I left the house. Not to mention the suffocating, so glad I took a shower because that was completely unnecessary since I am now drenched in sweat and why do boobs and bras just seem to be reservoirs for moisture collection? Men, do your balls have this problem? I'm guessing they do, but I would like an answer on this. The heat was in terms of the ultraviolet rays of death that were rising from the sand, er field, to create parched I-want-to-die-or-crawl-up-inside-a-camel-and-drink-from-its-hump type conditions.

Baseball, good. Wilting, withering, and dying in the sun, bad.

That concludes today's lesson.

just sayin'

I believe life works out the way it is supposed to, not necessarily the way we want it to.

I think this summer I was supposed to (try) and slow down. In (trying) to slow down I have realized a helluvalot of things about myself. I've remembered a crapload of things I've (conveniently) forgotten. I've taken time to breath (although not as much as I would have liked.)I've had way too many epiphanies about myself and why I react and do the things I do. (Eye-opening and mind boggling, really.) and with this new found knowledge I hope to lead a some what (but not totally) different life.

The last few weeks have been an emotional journey of rediscovering me and leaning about who I thought I was.

I have abandonment issues.
Therefore, as soon as I feel someone is going to leave, pull away, or betray be in someway, my brick wall goes sky high. Instantly, goes sky high.
I had no idea I reacted this way, or even more importantly, how quickly I react. As in, the person can still be talking to me.

As such, I've remembered numerous walls that were built and relationships that were never allowed to happen.

As a result of the above, I go into even more of a protective mode in that I also instantly over-schedule myself. I go into "...I'll show them" mode. Meaning, I don't need them, look how busy, popular, loved, and successful I can be without them.

This, in turn, keeps me from really having to deal with the hurt feelings, or being left.
Most importantly, I always, always leave first.
Mr. London left me. He was the first. I do believe this had a HUGE frickin' impact on how I reacted and also with how I didn't react.

Another thing I discovered last night about myself: I tend not to do random acts of kindness. Meaning, I don't like to buy things, give unexpected gifts, go out of my way in a showy way.
The reason, it will go unnoticed and will not be appreciated or the act will not be taken in the way I intended.

Here, would you like an example? Okay. I made (a really fuckingly awesome) painting for Mr. London for his birthday. I mailed it in May and it was delivered on May 22. As of today, I still have not received word that he has received it.
....
He called me in June to thank him for the e-cards I sent for his birthday, I asked if he received a package, no, but he would let me know the next day, as sometimes things were delivered to the restaurant below him.
.....
yeah.
So, two snarky emails from me later, and well, apparently he either died or he is seeing someone.
...which would be where my brain goes in situations such as these...
Um, yeah.

So, I am sure there are more, but you know, that's about all I can handle in one blog posting.

Here's to Summers of Possibilities and all the surprises they hold in store.

inner dork: 10 factoids about me

Yeah, I am being a bit lazy, but honestly, these little inner dorkings about me, they're sort of scary for me. I know, odd.

Anyway, here are 10 (previously unknown) things about me:

Did you know (and no, you didn't)

1) In the summer my toe nails are always painted candy-apple red.
My fingernails are rarely painted and usually go unnoticed by me and grow very long.

2) I was really hoping to work on some of my writing/short stories this summer. However, due to how fast and frantic the summer turned out to be, all I've had time to do is scribble some lines in a pocket-sized notebook I carry with me.

3)I have recently ( as in, just last week) discovered I have serious abandonment issues.
I HATE how hokey and "child of divorce" that sounds, but I have to admit, the issue is very real to me.
I am incorporating this into all of my other issues and I am working on it.

4) As a result of this issue, my guard has been in full-blown brick wall mode for the past three weeks.
I had no idea how fast I go into survival mode. Ah, issues, do they ever go away, or do I just become more aware of them?

5) I wish I had the time, energy, and creativeness to post on this blog everyday like I did in previous times.
I found it to be therapeutic, good writing practice, and great way to find my voice.

What number am I on?

6) I'm scared that I am going to end up living someone else's life.
Finish grad school, move back home until I find a job and stay in home state. As long as I am happy, that's fine, it's the, "not being happy, but my family is happy I am here" thing that scares me. That the sadness my family would keep me from living the life I want to live.

7) I have found that stories just seem to happen to me.
I go out, I mind my own business, before I know it, there is a story to be told somewhere about what happened to me.
Do the stories find me, do I create them, do they just happen?

8) This summer I have spent money like I have it to spend.
Which I do not.
I like to spend my money on going out with friends, going to restaurants, bars. So, basically on food and alcohol.
I've spent a lot of money this summer.
I do not have the money to spend.
August should be interesting when it comes to "so, how am I going to pay rent?"
If I had boundless amounts of cash I would pay of my student loan debt and travel the world as a free spirit. No ties, just go.
Perhaps this says something about me?

9) I go back to Small State U apartment next Friday. I am ready to be home, in my place, in my bed, but I am not ready to be back in Small State U city, nor am I ready to start back to school.
I need a brain break, a school break, a me break.

10) I've learned a lot of lessons this summer. I had no idea about what I didn't know.
I've grown-up, (some, not a lot) I've grown. I've listened, I've learned. There has been way too much needless stress in terms of Brazil, my internship with Grassroots org, (which, even though I resigned, just keeps on coming.) re-taking econ (and oy! that just plain sucked. Let's hope I pass, or there won't be a second year of grad school.) (Yes, this has been a real concern.) However, there has been real joy, accomplishment, and hand-prints left on my heart; with working for the state, working with my special needs students, taking a moment for myself, listening to my inner voice, letting my spirit speak, taking yoga classes, being with my family and many friends many of which I haven't seen in over a year.
The summer of possibilities has been just that, possible.


What about you?

inner dork: I fought the law, and the law won.

Okay, so it's not that I've forgotten about Inner Dork, it's more that I forget it's Thursday.

..and yes, I know it's still Wednesday, but I know I will forget to post it tomorrow. Thus, Inner Dork, Wednesday.

So,, without further ado:

Did you know...

In Kentucky it is illegal to carry ice cream in your back pocket.
(Good to know. I'm guessing it would be a bit messy, mushy, and melty.)

In Athens, Greece a person's drivers license can be taken away if the driver is either "unbathed" or "poorly dressed."
(I think it is best that this law does not pertain to farming communities.)

During the reign of Queen Victoria, in England, it was against the law to be a homosexual, but not a lesbian. The reason? She did not believe a woman would cunnilingus another woman.
(Apparently believing a man would have anal sex with another man imaginable, but women going down on each other, not so much.)

In Hartford, CT it's against the law for a husband to kiss his wife on Sunday.
(So, skip the kissing. This law says nothing about sex.)

In the U.K. there is no Act of Parliament making it illegal to commit murder. Murder is only illegal due to legal precedent.
(Okay, so what was the precedent and how where they murdered?)

In Sweden prostitution is legal, but it is illegal for anyone to use their services.
(Hmmm, how to get around this law... how...)

A British law passed in 1845 made committing suicide a capital offense. Attemptees could be hanged.
(um, slightly counter-productive, no?)

Dueling is legal in Paraguay as long as both parties are registered blood donors.
(Well, that's simply practical.)

In Michigan it is illegal to put a skunk in your boss's desk.
(Oh, c'mon. That's just a silly law.)

Every citizen of Kentucky is required by law to take a bath at least once a year.
(well, that seems a bit excessive.)

In Bladworth, Saskatchewan, it is illegal to frown at cows.
(Yes, but what about yelling, "mow cow" when you see one?)

so a girl walks into a bar

...After work or, volunteering, on Thursday I was feeling so amazingly awesome.
I made a suggestion about adding some items to my project.

They loved the suggeston, great idea, duh, of course, add that and run with it.

*pat on my back*

Leave work feeling amazing.

I walk around downtown and after some light perusing of the shops I went to the local watering establishment.
Saddle myself up to the bar, order a beer, stare at the muted TV, I had no plans to talk to anyone in the bar; I was simply there for a drink.

Two beers later, the guy two stools down and I start to talk. The basis bs banter: what do you do, blah, blah, blah. What do you do, blah, blah, blah.
Long story short: he told me human rights is bullshit, I'm wasting my time, I was talking about some of the stupidest shit he had ever heard of, why do we care about Darfur? (to which I pointed out that we don't care about Darfur because they do not possess any resources that we care to take, thus we are happy to not interfer in their genocide) just let them kill themselves. Somehow Iraq was mentioned, to which I asked if he wanted to debate over a fake war...he told me that white men need human rights protection more than anyone else..I sarcastically said, you mean because of affirmative action?
YES!
Oh, I was being sarcastic.

For the record, according to him, women absolutely do not deserve human rights protection, nor minorities, but perhaps, the disabled do.

Now.
He was VERY upset and VERY defensive about my life passion, that is apparently stupid-ass-bullshit (good to know.) I told him that I would not continue talking to him if he continued to yell, demean, and belittle me. He also needed to stop yelling. He apologized for making me mad. He did not, nor was he, making me mad. However, I would not be belittled.

He continued to belittle.

Using phrases such as: (human rights deal with) stupidest ass shit, (I am)waste of time, (I was talking about some of the) stupidest fucking things he ever heard of. And then my favorite: affirmative action: denied him acceptance to the first college he ever attended.
Really, affirmative action denied you acceptance to the first college you ever attended? That's amazing.
I asked if he could prove that. (the affirmative action, part)
No, but he also couldn't prove that it wasn't true.
Wow. That's an amazing argument.

This story ends with me telling him I would no longer speak with him, and turning to the muted TV. He continued to try and apologize for making me mad. (I wasn't mad. He was clearly a dumb-ass. I talk to enough dumb-ass people, no need to talk to one in a bar.) I ignored him. He left. I stayed.

I had a lovely conversation with the female bartender and I ordered another beer.

In the course of speaking with her, another gentleman came in and sat down next to me. We had a lovely conversation and as he heard me speaking with the bartender, he told me it would be pretty hard to be against human rights. I told him I was glad to hear he was preserving the human race.

New Guy and I had a nice conversation, but (oh, c'mon, you knew it was coming) when he asked if I went to local private college and I said, no, I go to Small State U, the flicker in his eye went out and I knew the lovely conversation would not lead anywhere.

This leads to the two middle-aged, upper-middle class men at the end of the bar who had been trying to flirt with me all night, but the visible wedding rings and the talking of kids, put an end to that.
However, in the course of me sitting at the bar, ordering, and buying my own drinks, they proceeded to mention what kind of woman comes into a bar by herself.

I'll cut to the chase.

According to them: that women is only there to be picked-up and to have drinks bought for her. "I mean, look at her (my) body language, look how she's dressed..." (stylish, yet conservative. Skirt that hit my knee, no cleavage, dress sweater over my dressy tank-top, hair was pulled up.) "... only a desperate women would be in here by herself..."
This went on and on.
Until I pointed out to them that I paid for my own drinks, and I even turned a drink down from the second gentleman.

..they shut-up.

However, by this point my rock star attitude that I had a mear four hours before when I walked into the bar, was gone by the time I walked out of the bar.

I hate when people have that power. No, I hate when I give people that power.

However, on another note. I've dealt with too many jerks. There's a good man out there somewhere for me, right? Somewhere out there soon, would be even better. Cause, this Party Girl is getting mighty tired of it all.

Also, this isn't the first time I've encountered men who have felt threatened/intimiated by a single woman, alone, in a bar; why? I do not understand this.
Insights?

...and now a word from our sponsers

Okay, I have no idea what the title and this post have in common, it just popped into my head.

Basically this is a quick update on what has ben going on.

My best gal is interning with the governor's office and in speaking with the human rights people, they asked her to ask me for my resume. Twice. Maybe even three times they asked, finally I sent it over. Through the magic of Internet email, I was contacted within minutes...yes, minutes of resume receipt, for an interview.

Color me feeling special.
(It's a light shade of pink.)

After a few days of phone tag, I went in for my interview last week and yesterday (Monday) I started my internship with the states Human Rights department.
They mentioned several times how impressed they were with my resume (I tell ya, the next person who tells me this, I am going to ask the to tell me what exactly they find impressive...or maybe I am just bad at tooting my own horn.) So for the next four weeks, 120 hours I will be rewriting, the division that I will be working in, website. The English part, not the computer part.

On the same day that I was called for an interview by human rights, I went back to home city to talk to Small State U's study abroad office, as they offered me an internship as well.
Starting this fall I will be researching all countries visas requirements and putting it into a publication for the school. (appropriate, no?) Yes, I will be published. Sure, it will be boring and dry information, but still.

I really wanted to use the Study Abroad as my internship as 1) it was paid and 2) I could use that as a job and internship and I would not have to find a job this fall.

Of course, my advisor will not let me use it as an internship, so it will be on a volunteer basis. Cause apparently I have copious amounts of time to give.

This leaves the grassroots org that I have been interning with and (not really) been doing research for. I have not wanted to intern with this org since the whole Brazil disaster, but really did not have a choice at the time to get my requirement in...and oh, yeah, all that debt I went into for nothing...so, I've been continuing to "work" for her. (The air quotes, which I hate, are because I have been researching and sending her things, but the amount of energy I spend pissing and moaning about it, versus the amount of time doing, two different amounts.)

So, I need to tell grassroots that I will no longer be interning with her...only I don't want to. I don't want to tell her, I just want to stop. Yet, I think it is incredibly important for her to know why (ala, bad internship, mislead about Brazil, copious amounts of money lost for nothing) but I also don't want to. Not because I am scared, or a chickenshit, just...I don't care. I don't have the energy to do it. Bad? Maybe, but right now, that's right, I don't care.
I'm resentful, no longer angry, but still resentful. It will pass. It was all for the best and it has all worked out, but still.

For the remainder of July I will be working with my special needs students at former employeer college, running to my internship to get 120 hours in within four weeks, and trying to enjoy my summer of possibilities. The movie going and popcorn munching will slow waaaaaay down henceforth.

Your thoughts?

Update on the summer of possibilities:

Movies:

Get Smart (wait for DVD)
Kung Fu Panda (loved it, so cute and a great message.)
Wall-E (Wow, what a social commentary for the parents who got suckered in to see it with their kids. Great message, plan to see it again.)
Wanted (Awesome, brainless, spontaneous violent fun, that actually contains a storyline. Oh, and amazing eye candy throughout.)

Books:

The Dirt on Clean, an Unsanitized History (bathing habits throughout history)
The Omnivore's Dilemma (Not helping my "I don't like not knowing where my food it coming from, all the hormones injected into my food, and how the hell does Salmonella get into tomatoes?" dilemma, but interesting.)
The Miraculous Adventure of Edward Tulane (a kid's book. Read it in one hour. Want to feel like you accomplished something, read a kid's book.)
100 Ways America is Screwing up the World (really, just 100?)
Walking in Circles Before Lying Down (Poorly written, but cute story)

Currently reading:

The Day of Empire, Rise of the Hyperpower
A Splendid Exchange, How Trade Shaped the World
Follies, a collection of short stories.

I have several story ideas I am working on.

Oh, and I am taking yoga and going for very long walks each day. Both make me feel incredibly powerful. Good for the soul, good for the brain, good for the spirit.

Sorry that there aren't any links, it's getting late, I am lazy, and I need to study for my econ test, which is tomorrow, and get my required 4-6 hours of sleep to repeat what you just read and I just typed.
Good day.

inner dork: Born on the fourth of July

Wow, have I been bad about posting the inner dorks, or what?

Wow, have I been bad about posting in general, or what? (more about why and what's been going on, later.)

Now, I bring you factoids about the Fourth of July. Ta Da! Exciting!

Did you know...

In July 1776 the number of people living in America was 2.5 million.

In July, 2008 the population will be 304 million.

Although the formal adoption by the Continental Congress of the Declaration of Independence was on July 4, 1776, the signing was not completed until August.

The first observed celebration was on July 8, 1776, in PA.

The Fourth of July was not a legal holiday until 1941.

Uncle Sam first became popular during the War of 1812, when the term appeared on supply containers. However, it wasn't until 1961 that the U. S. Congress adopted him as a national symbol.

(And just to get you ready for the BBQ)
There is a one in four chance that the hot dog or sausage that will be consumed today, came from Iowa. (Hopefully it was packaged before the flood.)

You have been dorked.

Happy Fourth everyone!!!

how to make the bitterness return in five minutes or less

...so, just for shits and giggles, during a break in econ class tonight, I decided to add up all the things I lost money on for the little trip to Brazil.

$600+ on vaccines (and I'm still not finished with all of them)
$300 on plane cancellation fees (better than nothing, but still)
$300+ visa fees (you know, to be denied)
$100+ driving to Chicago (once again, just to be denied)
$60 on language tapes (useless)
$30 on a book about Brazil (gee, that came in handy)
and hundreds more on miscellaneous charges, like making extra keys for my apartment, malaria pills,(that won't be used) and let's not forget the econ class I get to take again (yah!) $300+.

Altogether the amount (which I can remember anyway, I know this is not the total amount that I have lost, this is just the amount which I can recall) I have lost, spent, begged, borrowed, took an early payout on, which means I will be penalized come tax time, totals: $1731.00

Yep.

I knew I lost over $1000.00 on this little misadventure, but I didn't realize it was closer to $2000.00.

Concentrating through the rest of class was a bit difficult.

I really didn't want to intern with the misbegotten grassroots organization, but I finally got tired of going back and forth with my brain, (and after two emails and two voice mails to my advisor asking for guidance and help, only to receive none. As in, literally. No response from any of the emails or phone calls. Thanks.) so, I told her last week I would get on with my research.
I have not gotten on with my research as of yet.
...and now I really do not care to research a good god-blessed piece o' information.
Every time I think about my internship I become sick to my stomach. So, I am either pregnant (eck!)(and gosh, it would be really pickled at this point.) or my mind and body are telling me to shove this little grassroots org deep into some back lawn.

Thoughts?

...and no worries, I'm still drinking as if I was back in college town. I mean really, was there any doubt or question about that?

water, water everywhere, nor a drop to drink

Sitting here enjoying my summer of possibilities, I thought, gosh, I really don't have anything to write about.
...

...

Oh, wait! A large portion of Home State along with Home City are flooded. Hmmm, maaaaybe I should write about that.

Now, when I say, flooded, I don't mean there are a few puddles of water here and there, no, I mean, a large portion of Home State is under water. Several, several, several, several feet of water and the rivers have not crested as of yet, which means more water is coming though Saturday.

I had planned to go back to Home City to visit, this weekend, but I cannot. I cannot get back to Home City, because they are not letting people in.

Having spent the Floods of '93 trapped for the weekend in the Children's Home in which I worked, later burning myself with boiled clean water, only then to soothe the burn with contaminated cold water, thus seeking comfort from a bag of frozen peas as I drove myself to the doctor to get a tetanus shot...the Floods of '08, are going better for me. For me, but not for thousands of others.

I've had friends check on my apartment, it's fine, but things around my apartment are not. I know the school has been canceled a few times this week. Main street are closed and evacuated (where my friends and I go almost every night of the week to drink our days away.) However, in terms of my apartment, it's not the flood waters I am worried about, it is the trees, specifically, the Shade-o-riffic tree. I want the tree to die, but I do not wish it to die by going through my apartment roof from one of the bad storms.

One of my guy friends is interning as an emergency manager within Home City...I would say he is getting a wonderful first-hand training/learning experience.
Girlfriends are sandbagging their homes, other friends have had to be evacuated.

So, although the National News has been reporting on us, I always tend to believe that they sensationalize and only show one bad area, but really, it's not that bad. Well, I am here to tell you, it is that bad. Bad, Bad, horribly awful bad and it is only going to get worse as the rivers crest throughout the weekend.

so far

So far on the summer of possibilities:

I've seen: Ironman, Sex and the City (twice) and today I will see the new Indiana Jones.

I've read: Sold by Patricia McCormick. It's about a girl from Nepal who is (perhaps) unwittingly sold into a brothel by her family.

Baker Towers by Jennifer Haige. That one was about a family living in a PA coal mining town starting in the 1940's and ends in the 1970's. Sounds like a chick book, but I think men would enjoy it as well.

I've begun reading: Truck: A Love Story by Michael Perry and also Tallgrass by Sandra Dallas.

I've started two new paintings: (hopefully I will be finished with one by the end of the weekend.) (Pictures will be forthcoming of the last ones I've completed as well as the new ones.)

I've gone for a walk everyday. Yesterday I went for two walks. The walks are making me happy.

I am working at Former Place of Employment: a.k.a the college I worked at for five years prior to moving. I am working as a tutor for a few students and as a special needs helper for another. In other words, I am doing what I used to supervise over. I am a peon. I couldn't be happier about this.

Internship: haven't done a thing for it. Reason? Cause I emailed by advisor on Monday asking him to advise me and I have not heard back from him. So, I refuse to lift another finger until I do.

I have some creative writing sentences flowing through my head; I'm sure they will make there way to the keyboard within a few more days. It's a process.

Level of bitterness: Pretty much gone. I've accepted that Brazil wasn't supposed to happen (for whatever reason.) I'm happy being back at Former Employer cause gosh, I was missed by everyone (and no one likes the gal who replaced me. Ah, it's amazing how nice that feels) and well, being missed and being liked is good for the psyche. Still not happy about having to take econ, but based on the quizzes I just took, perhaps it's a good thing I am.

When the alarm goes off: I don't mind it. I am staying up reading until about 1 a.m. and sleeping until 8:01 a.m. every morning. Funny how when there really aren't any obligations going on it's easier to get up and going in the morning.

Ah, fresh air. Damn, but it does feel good.

the summer of possibilities

6:48 pm

That's the time my plane departed on Sunday for Brazil.
The plane I wasn't on, but still.

Around 6:50pm I went for a long walk.
Walking and thinking about all the reasons and all the whys and trying to figure it all out in a matter of miles.
Am I supposed to spend time with my parents for some reason?
Am I supposed to work with someone this summer and make a difference in one of their lives?
Am I supposed to do some sort of research this summer that will lead into a future job?
Was I supposed to have all of these problems with my visa and travel to pass on to someone else?
What about my micro class?
and on and on.

Then on my return trip from my walk, I realized, it took seven months of ignoring my inner voice that something was not right about my internship and my travel plans and three weeks of trying to sort out the ensuing mess; therefore, something tells me it is going to take a helluva lot longer than a walk to figure out the deeper meaning. So, stop trying to.

I, being me, had initially planned to: live with the 'rents for the summer, get a job at my old place of work, volunteer at the local AIDS project and also the local Planned Parenthood, work on my internship, and take my night class. All within eight weeks, mind you.

So far I have: moved home temporarily for the summer, gotten a job at my old place of work, checked into volunteering, but neither place currently needs volunteers, waiting for my internship to be re-approved, and taking my night class, finished one book, working on another.

Frankly, I'm thinking that working, class, internship: that's plenty for one person.

So, so far I have concluded that maybe, just maybe (naughty girls need love, too.) (Thanks, Samantha Fox.) that this summer is about taking care of me. Slowing down and enjoying some time. I've finished one book since Friday, well on my way to finishing a second. Today I went to the local library and brought an arm-full of books home with me. Right now, delving into all of them sounds like a near-perfect summer.
My Mama thinks I am supposed to take the summer to put together and write my book. Who knows.
The summer is full of possibilities and (currently) I have all the time in the world to figure it out. So, for once, I'm not in a rush. And maybe, that's all I'm supposed to get out of all this; to simply slow down and breathe.