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Archive for February, 2011

and before I knew it

… I was on page 11 of a Clueless appreciation blog. Woops back to work.

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My sister came to visit me this past weekend. We talked about how my blog had dried up of all the rich extended metaphors that used to sprinkle my writing… really the best part of the blog as a whole we agreed. That’s my favorite kind of writing… when I’m marinating in the moment… melting my subject into a pool and completely submerging in its essence until it has seeped into my pores, saturated my thick hair, osmosised my cell walls until it both surrounds me and pumps through my veins and heart, and I am left with the peaceful clarity of thorough understanding (there has to be a verb for osmosis….).The truth is that I had some personal relationships that I could not chronicle on the blog. They are not for all of you, and that fucking sucks (I was a little liberal with spreading the URL to people I know…) I hate to keep things to myself, because I feel splintered. This blog is the pillow onto which I lay my troubled head. A rack for my worry shoes. A place where I can uncoil the tangled rope of my miserable failures, my encyclopedia stack of emotions, the life experiences that I keep jamming on top of each other like trash in a too full bin. I’m running through life so fast that I’m just shoving shit into my suitcase brain haphazardly, and if I don’t hang these memories up here in their entirety they will never quite get back their shape. I’m far too curious to pack light.

Anyways, I’ll be taking out the trash more is what I’m saying. Writing is that chicken soup soul shit for me. That and crafting, which brings me back to this weekend.

Pause: Jesus Christ Fiona Apple Pandora station. KNOCKIN IT OUTTA THE FUCKIN BALLPARK. My eyes have been welling with tears all day. I digress.

My sister’s visit was absolutely incredible. I knew it would be. I love her, and what’s more I respect her. We level on a completely honest and understanding plane. She sees all of me because she knows what’s layered under this skin. She saw my first baby skin, lily white unscathed innocence. She saw the inflicted bruises, physical and emotional, of a hailstorm adolescence. She’s seen my feeble attempts to Kevlar-case my outsides, arming myself with humor, words, facts, and relationships. Falling in love squeaky clean happy. How love lost left me like a burn victim. Growing new skin in this new place, accepting transplants and grafts where I can get them.

My relationship with my family is a delicate balance. While I know they will always be there for me and love me unconditionally, I have to keep an eye on their presence in my ecosystem lest they eat up all my stable happy populations. This is not about my sister, but unfortunately the arm’s length at which I must stay from home affects my relationship with her. Not to mention that we are both incredibly busy people. I don’t see her nearly as much as I’d like, and this weekend was water on the lips of our deprived sistership. We shared, we laughed, we drank, we ate, we ate more, we danced, and we bonded. She got to see my life here, what I’ve been surrounding myself with. Put faces to the stories. She may or may not have threatened the life of a potential suitor. It was a perfect weekend.

Weekend table of contents: Sightseeing, good food, Vagina Monologues, DC Walk for Choice Rally, fingerpainting/crafting/champagne with friends, birthday party, out, late night falafel.

            *If you have not seen the Alexis Rockman exhibit at the American Art Museum, you are in for a muthafuggin treat. Go. ASAP. It’s here until May.

http://www.alexisrockman.net/work/projects/

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DAMN GIRL

Amanda Seyfried

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Checking in.

HEY I LOVE YOU IM SORRY IM NOT POSTING MORE.

I had to yell that because I really mean it. Real Talk. I love this blog so much and it holds my brains innards so well… I just don’t have a lot of juicy deets I can go into.

OH well I can talk about my date with the Swiss guy the other night. I got all hawt-to-trot in a short nautical striped dress, heels, and my furry black jacket, and arrived to the bar right on time. He was in the back in a perfectly fitting snazzy sport coat and tight, dark jeans. We mumbled an awkward greeting (well hello, we met at 2 AM on the dancefloor), he got me a drink, and then we started into the conversation.

More like I started into the conversation, because he didn’t ask one question about me. About an hour in I knew all about him, including what his parents do, what he misses most about Switzerland, Swiss politics, etc. He had learned squat about me. But the drinks continued to lubricate the circumstance and the conversation eventually picked up. We decided to have another drink at my place (one block away) and put on a movie once we got there.

Thankfully he was a perfect gentleman, and when I said I was tired and needed to be up early, he politely took his leave. But not without giving me a few long kisses that almost ripped my clothes off in and of themselves. Yummm Swiss.

He still hasn’t called or texted, though. I honestly don’t understand men whatsover.

The hot unicorn mirage from NY and I have texted a few times, and he promised to let me know next time he’s in DC. I wouldnt mind losing a month off my life if that day could be today.

MY SISTER COMES INTO TOWN TOMORROW MORNING!! I can’t wait to tell you about our gallivanting and bonding all over DC. I want her to have the best possible weekend ever.

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In a perfect world:

I could own one of these:

(and it would never get big and it also could talk)

Annnnnd this would be hanging in my closet:

Or better yet, I’d be wearing it right now with some slacks and sensible shoes.

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I’m not sure that Groundhog Day doesn’t have something to do with my love life, because the icy winter is over and flowers are a’bloomin’ and shit. This weekend I met not one, but two hawt men (annnd one not so hot one that won’t leave me alone). Roster:

Sat night find: I was afoot Sat night, and ended up being just with Taro, Bryan, and Gibson at the end of the evening. We decided to take one last turn around the dance floor before getting some pizza late-night, and who do I stumble upon but this gorgeous, tall boy who was dancing incredibly awkwardly. So I sauntered over and started dancing with him (why not?). He was being cute and we did the thing where we put our right arm over the other person’s head, slid away from each other, then he grabbed my hand and spun me into him. Then he kissed me (it was welcome, not out of no where). We had one more of those then chatted for a minute.

Words started coming out of his mouth and my eyes started spinning. WTF?? IS THAT AN ACCENT? Holy fucking shit. It was like I saw a bill on the ground and made the effort to get it thinking it was a single and it was A HUNDRED. He’s SWISS.

Anywho. He got my number, and I honestly didn’t think he’d text. I know how European men fair in this country… women turn into vultures and wait in line to pick jump their bones. However, he did text, and we have a date at 8 tonight!

GAHWIORU$W(*&(W*OJ WHAT TO WEAR?  (firstworldproblemsfirstworldproblems)

Number two: Not much to say about him other than my guy friends adopted him at the bar, he ended up back at late night with us, and got my number earlier in the night (before I realized he’d be in tow for the long haul). I only gave him my number because I’m terrible at saying no to that. However, he texted me the entire rest of the weekend to hang out… we’re talking ten texts in a row with no response from me. Take a hint.

Number three: Golly gosh jesus almighty. My neighbors had an all day party on Sunday since most wouldn’t have work the next day. Around 3 PM there were about 20 people crowded around their stoop, drinking in shades and making new friends. Around 5 PM I about fainted, because the hawtest guy I have ever seen in DC walked up to the party. Literally I was grabbing at my friends, pointing—DO YOU SEE THAT? DOS MINE EYES DECEIVE ME? IS THAT FUCKING REAL? I made a huge deal out of it… because my eyes were melting out of my head by his searing good looks. Somehow (read: liquid courage and a wing woman named Heather) I managed to talk to him. That talk lasted a solid half hour. He said they were leaving shortly but he wanted to meet back up later. We did. He was clearly into me (which I was taken aback by). We had a very long, very personal conversation that lasted into the night.

He took a bus back up to NY yesterday, where he lives. WOMP WOMP.

However, next time I’m up there or he’s down here, I’d love to see him. Just knowing he exists is comforting. My unicorn is out frolicking in NY.

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lets all melt down together

First off, a word of outrage:

I am absolutely furious at the recent vote to end federal funding of Planned Parenthood. That organization is vital to the health of women in this country. House Republicans put this measure forth with NO BACKUP PLAN whatsoever. Just an attitude of “deal with it” to the millions of women that will be without the vital health resource that has helped identify cervical and breast cancer in early stages, get sexually active teens on birth control before they ruin their lives, diagnose and treat STDs (all of these particularly in at-risk populations)… it’s just ARRRRGGGG@*%JFE

I will be marching in DC with my sister and my friends (some of whom are very grateful for the support and treatment they have received at Planned Parenthood) to defend women’s rights and this organization that has done and continues to do very very important things for women.

Blood boiling. Time to hit the bricks on this one. DUSTING OFF COLLEGE PROTESTING DAPHNE (cue memory of standing on campus during a anti-choice counter-protest waiving wire hangers in the air screaming IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?!!?!?!!?)

(am I thinking of making a Harry Potter protest sign? OBVIOUSLY)

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