I finally took a picture of my haircut that I don't hate.
I should be studying. Meh. 03*28*05 I didn't go to my internship today. By the time I had to get up and get ready to go I had only had 2 hours of sleep. I went to bed at 12:30, but I laid awake thinking until around 3:30. Then my cats knocked something over around 4:30 and I didn't get back to sleep for another half hour. I just got overwhelmed with anxiety about what I'm doing with my life. I feel so lazy not having a job right now. I feel lazy because I don't want to do school work. It's hard to fathom that after 6 years of college and over $40,000 in loans later my main goal is to get a bartending job when I graduate. I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I know the basics: I want to be completely financially stable, I want to live in a better neighborhood closer to or in Manhattan, I want to get another tattoo, I want to travel a lot, I want to start running regularly come warmer weather and, of course, I want to graduate. I was so sure about being a forensic scientist when I started the program. But my classes sucked any interest I had in the material out of me. Then my internship really drove it home for me. I would never work there. It's thoroughly depressing and boring. I've heard tales of other crime labs being more interesting, but I refuse to move out of NYC for a job I'm not even sure I'll like doing. The whole 9 to 5 shtick is so utterly unappealing to me. So I figured I'll bartend so I can make quick cash to start paying off my student loans, save up for another place and save up to travel. I'm hoping that within a year I'll figure out what to do with myself on a more permanent basis. But still, I can't believe I got through the hell that is Organic Chemistry only to wind up mixing drinks. Then I started thinking about the only other thing that I am completely unsure about--relationships. Not about dating Chad, but just about the whole concept. I went out drinking with some girls from class Thursday night. These are the same women who were in relationships for 6 years and broke up with their significant others about a year ago. My friend Alex was telling us about her fiancé breaking up with her and I felt so bad for her I started crying. Then she started crying; it was a big ol' cry fest. Keep in mind we had all had about 4 drinks by this point. Then both of them were saying you only love like that once and they knew they'd never feel that way again. I believe a person never loves another person the same way as they did someone else, but to say you'll never love again is pretty drastic. I know I've felt that way at times, but it's never true. After I left the bar I called Carlos and asked him if he believed that you could only really fall in love once and he said no. Carlos was with a girl he loved to death for at least two years, so to hear that coming from him made me feel better. I think that my friends' wounds are just too fresh to see it any other way. In the scheme of things though, you could probably fall in love an infinite amount of times. Of course that would mean you'd go through an infinite amount of heartbreak, too. Anyway, this is what I thought about for 3 hours last night. Today I am stopping by Chad's to deliver the strawberry rhubarb pie I made him Thursday night. Shortly after, I am meeting up with Carlos to see the new Morrissey documentary "Who Put the 'M' In Manchester". I'm kind of indifferent about seeing it, but he got the tickets and invited me, so that's that. Geoff will be there. I haven't seen him in months. He'll lose his claim as the only ex-boyfriend I ever remained friends with if this keeps up! Below are pictures of Chad and me at Buttermilk Bar in Brooklyn on Saturday night. We were both very drunk. I think I was drunker though. I don't know what the hell happened to the last picture to make my face look like a big bruise.
03*27*05 I woke up this morning thinking about my father's log cabin. I remember every detail about it. He had it built at the end of a dead end street right next to the woods. Not at all scary to a 5-year-old...I promise. It was a block and a half away from where my mom lived at the time. She told me not too long ago how much it creeped her out that he decided to live so close to her. I find myself talking about memories I have of my father a lot recently. I think I talk about him more as I get older. My father has become some sort of mythical figure in my head. I haven't seen him since I was about 12. He was a tad too friendly with alcohol with serious mental problems to boot. Never laid a hand on me though. And even though he had crazy mood swings, failed to support my brother and me financially and then just stopped seeing us altogether, I still have really fond memories of him. I remember him reading Cold Sassy Tree to my brother and me on his bed. I would rest my head on his chest while he read so his voice would resonate through me. Every weekend he'd rent a bunch of movies he thought were essential for us to see. This included Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Night of the Living Dead, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest.... I'm sure there were some he showed us that were suitable for children. But I guess I chose to block those ones out of my memory. One of the best memories I have of my father involved me hitting my best friend at the time. I was probably about 7. We were fighting about something and I told her to shut up. To that she replied, "I don't shut up, I grow up, and when I look at you I throw up, and then your mom comes around the corner licking it up." I had never heard this phrase uttered before and I was livid about that last part concerning my mom. No one talks about my mom that way. So I slapped her. She started crying and I panicked because I knew she'd tell her mom on me. So I ran out of her house. My dad happened to be driving by at the same time to see if I wanted to accompany him somewhere. I ran to his car, opened the door, flung myself inside and ordered him to drive fast. But I was too late and my friend's mom was already coming down the driveway to scold me. She told my father what had happened and I explained why I had hit her and what she had said about my mom. My dad assured her mother he'd give me a talking to and all was well. We started to drive away and he turned to me and said, "Emily, you did the right thing. Don't let anyone talk bad about your mother." Things like that are what make me appreciate my father. I just try to hold on to that and not think so much about him being crazy. I'd rather remember him for the good stuff. And of course for making me appreciate cinema. 03*26*05 Just spoke with Chad. Everything's ok. I've gone from completely ignoring warning signs when I date guys to seeing everything as a warning sign. I don't know which is worse. 03*26*05 I was lying awake drunk in bed last night and a scene from Tommy Boy popped into my head. The scene described perfectly what I felt I had done with my dating situation with Chad. You may recall the scene; Tommy is sitting in a diner with David Spade's character and telling the waitress why he sucks as a salesman. Queue quote: "Helen, we're both in sales. Let me tell you why I suck as a salesman. Let's say I go into some guy's office and let's say he's even remotely interested in buying something. Well then I get all excited; I'm like Jojo the idiot circus boy with a pretty new pet. The pet is my possible sale. [Picks up roll and begins to stroke it] Oh, my pretty little pet, I love you. So I stroke it, and I pet it, and I massage it. Hehe I love it, I love my little naughty pet, you're naughty! Then I take my naughty pet and I go [makes ripping and screaming noises as he tears apart the roll]. Uuuuuuh, I killed it! I killed my sale!" "That's when I blow it. That's when people like us gotta forge ahead, Helen, am I right?" Now replace the word "sale" with "relationship", "I go into some guy's office" with "I meet a really nice guy", and "remotely interested in buying something" with "remotely interested in me". I went out with some of the girls who work at the NYPD Crime Lab around 3 in the afternoon yesterday. There were about 4 burly middle-aged cops who also came along. They looked like they were in the mafia. I guess it was happy hour or something. The bartender had my screwdrivers lined up on the bar. I wasn't even ordering them; they just kept coming. I don't know how many I drank. I know I got completely smashed. The cops were telling me all these gross stories about things they've seen at crime scenes and how I should talk to the powers that be to see if I could come along a few times before my hours are up. I'd love to do that. Anyway, they started getting a little too flirty and it was getting late, so I decided to go home. I got on the F train in Queens and figured I'd transfer to the B when I got into Manhattan and take that home. But I fell asleep and didn't wake up until the train had gone through Queens, Manhattan and part of Brooklyn. I got off at the next stop and walked home drunk at night through some bad neighborhoods for at least a mile. Smart. Nothing bad happened thankfully. But I did make a few drunk phone calls to Chad. And that's where my previous statements comes into play. We had made tentative plans to meet up after I got home from the bar. I was supposed to call him when I got home. I did and left some crazy slurred message about needing a cab number to get home. He didn't call back. A few hours later I was annoyed, rightfully so I think, but much more than I normally would have been had I not been so drunk. So I left another message about how I was pissed and some other ramblings-on about how I didn't know what was going on with him and yadda yadda. Nothing I said made sense. And so that's how I ended my message, "Nothing I'm saying is making sense. Bye." Smart move, Emily! I'm really mad I did that. But at the same time I do think there was some substance to my anger towards him. I felt like I was being avoided. I guess the normal thing to do in a situation like that would be to back off, give the person some space, see what develops.... But leaving multiple drunken messages would probably be at the bottom of a long list of things to do. Sigh. Gotta forge ahead I guess. 03*20*05 I'm on the list! Yippee! 03*20*05 I just got done watching Saw. Angered by the numerous plot holes, I was going to list them all to give the director a piece of my mind since I'm sure he reads this. But, lucky for you, I've decided against it. Instead I will list the number one thing wrong with this movie (aside from just being really bad): the mastermind behind everything got shot in the fucking back with a shotgun and walked away. Was the guy supposed to have super powers which made him impervious to bullets? Was the audience just supposed to figure that out? Waste of an hour and a half. I can't decide if that or Mona Lisa Smile was worse. I went to Caroline's last night to see Mitch Hedberg. I've never even heard of the guy, but Carlos said he was funny and paid for the cover, so I went. Good times. Afterwards my shoes hurt too bad to go dancing, and I can't drink since I'm still on antibiotics, so I just went home. I stopped by Chad's on the way. And that is where I was subjected to Mona Lisa Smile. It was just too bad not to watch. Plus it was fun to make fun of. Today is the last day I have to take my medicine. I'm aiming to make this entire week through without getting sick. And I will drink and dance next weekend! You'll see. I have off from school for about a week starting at the end of this week. Basically I'm just going to try and finish up my internship during that time. The good thing about this little break is that it's not spring break. I still have that coming to me next month. Jealous? You should be. Maybe on my actual spring break I'll take a little trip. I want to go to San Francisco. That's not such a little trip though. I've decided to go to France in September. I don't even know if I've mentioned that in here at all. My mom is giving me some cash towards the trip for my graduation present. I've been looking for someone to go with for almost a year. Finally Katrina came through and said she could save up enough to go with me. I'm so excited. Viva le fromage! I got my hair cut Friday night. Judging from people's lackadaisical comments, I think it only turned out somewhat ok. When i first got it I thought it was the cutest haircut I've ever had. Then i washed it and realized it was only mediocre. It's better than wearing my hair in a pony tail all the time though. I think I'll like it better once it grows out a little bit. I'd take pictures and post them, but I'm a mess. I've decided to stay in my pajamas today and catch up on my Netflix movies since it's so shitty out. I still have two movies to watch. Better get a move on. 03*16*05 So I went to the doctor's today and he told me I have strep throat. Just as I expected. Luckily he prescribed me some medicine and I'm starting to feel a little better now. It still hurts to swallow, though. I made the mistake of eating a solid breakfast before the clinic opened this morning. I started feeling really nauseous, so I knocked on the clinic door five minutes before they opened and asked if I could use their bathroom because I felt like I might throw up. They told me to do it outside or wait until they opened to use their bathroom. Such a compassionate place. Luckily the nausea went away. I've missed school all week. I feel really behind. I have to go to lab as much as possible the next few weeks. I'm gonna try and get my hair cut this weekend. Stripping and dying it three times in one week left it really damaged (big surprise!). I dyed it again today. My goal is to dye it until it falls out. Anyway, I think I look better with shorter hair. I'm not really sure why I was trying to grow it out in the first place. I just wish I knew what I did with the hair stylist's business card who cut my hair last time. Since it's around the three-week mark that Chad and I have been dating, I've been feeling a bit vulnerable and paranoid recently. I always feel like this around this point. And usually with warrant. There's only so many times one can be screwed over by a guy and not expect it to keep happening. I know there's no point in worrying over things, and I should just live in the now, and blah blah blah. But I don't work that way. Not when it comes to dating anyway. When it comes to my future career, however, I'm not nearly as worried as I should be. My priorities are never in order. But that's another story. Uncertainty can be exciting in some ways, but I guess I don't deal well in chance. On the positive side, if this can even be considered positive, if a person feels definite and stable in a dating situation and things go to shit, the person is that more devastated because they weren't expecting it at all; if you're wary about things and your suspicions come true, it will still be upsetting...but I guess not as much. Eh, I don't know what I'm talking about. Not once in the many time I've tried to avoid getting hurt has it worked. Why do I over-analyze everything? There's only one solution to this--I'm going to bed. 03*15*05 I've had a fever for most of the day. I wanted ice cream for hours to soothe my throat, but was too weak to go outside and get it. Finally I managed to walk the 4 blocks to the store and got my precious pistachio ice cream. Hit the spot. I am going to the doctor's tomorrow morning. He better not give me that "it's a virus, get plenty of sleep" crap again. I want antibiotics god damn it! 03*14*05
I've been meaning to do that for a while. 03*13*05 Even though it's been a year since I first saw the Fensler GI Joe PSAs, those things just never get old. I watched each one about twice today at Chad's house with him and his friends. Good times. I had a good day. Actually the whole weekend was pretty great. Chad came over Friday night and made me dinner again. And brought me flowers! Afterwards we had the peanut butter banana bread I made him, which came out pretty good I might add. I got a book called 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die. I thought I'd come close to kicking Chad's ass with how many movies I've seen on the list compared to him. Being that he's an ex-film major, that probably wasn't a smart assumption on my part. I have a lot of movie-watching to do. Yesterday I watched some movies at Chad's house. Toward the end of the night I made myself some screwdrivers, got drunk and passed out. So much for trying to woo Chad with my drunken charm. I don't think he thought less of me for it. I still felt pretty stupid about it though. Today was filled with random silly antics. I'm quite fond of silly antics. 03*10*05 I stripped my hair last week and dyed it a cinnamon brown. I got tired of looking goth in pictures. So this morning I came across a "news" item about Reneé Zellweger dying her hair an auburn color. She dyed her hair black around the same time I did, too. So Renée, if you're reading this, please stop copying me. It's annoying. I got my voice back around Monday, and then started to get sick again around Tuesday night. I do not know what the hell is wrong with me. I hate being sick all the time. I finally caved in today and bought Echinacea. My mom swears by the stuff. Every time I so much as sniffle in front of her she's down my back to take Echinacea. For some psychological reason or other, I have been adamantly resisting her advice. But being sick for three weeks out of four is where I draw the line. This crap better work. I'm about to bake a tasty treat for Chad. Well, the tasty part remains to be seen. 03*07*05 A skit from The State suddenly popped into my head. Luckily I found the transcript: Kerri: This vacation, I will wear a bikini everywhere. Oh boy that's so much funnier when you see it. I can't wait for them to put that show on DVD. 03*07*05 I'm at the crime lab at the moment. I brought my laptop with me so I could outline chapters of my Instrumental Analysis book. As exciting as that sounds...it's not. Since the crime lab is Nazi-like about their internet, I'm typing this in notepad and posting it when I get home. I should get an airport card. In fact, I think I will. I was good this weekend and didn't drink a drop of alcohol. I figured if I ever wanted my voice back, I should give booze a rest. Chad cooked me a delicious dinner at his place on Saturday night. He has such a guy's place. It could have something to do with the fact that three guys live there, but I dunno. Maybe I've just grown too accustomed to my girly apartment. Or maybe I'm just too anal about having everything match and strategically-placed. Although I must give him credit for having the one thing I feel my apartment is in dire need of: TiVo. But I am very glad my apartment is absent of the crudely painted portrait of Mr. T they just acquired and hung prominently in the kitchen. After dinner we watched some episodes of Strangers With Candy that I had conveniently brought along. Then we went ice skating in Prospect Park again. My rental skates were pretty shitty this time, so my skating experience wasn't top notch. But the crowd on the rink was completely chaotic, so that made the situation a bit more interesting. Last night Chad and I went to the Museum of the Moving Image to see The Third Man. I've seen it before, but I managed to forget most of it. Unfortunately that's the case with about 40% of the movies I've seen (I've rented 2 movies in the past 2 weeks I've already seen but forgot). Anyway, it was terrific. The cinematography in that movie is amazing. I want to go there more often, but they don't have any upcoming movies playing that I'm extremely bent on seeing. So, Chad and I have had five dates in nine days. Seeing someone new simultaneously fills me with paranoia, anxiety, anticipation and excitement. Needless to say, I'm feeling a bit more schizophrenic than usual. I really can't say enough good things about him, though. But basically I'm taking this whole situation like a recovering alcoholic: one day at a time. 03*04*05 I've lost my voice. I could somewhat tell I was going to lose it a few days ago. So going out and drinking last night was a really good idea. Oh well. A small price to pay for a good night. My frog dissection today was not as interesting as my rat dissection. I was trying to scrape the bone from its skull and a piece ricocheted up my nose. Lot's of fun. On my way home I was listening to The Smiths and I was shifting my iPod in my bag to find my keys. I guess I hit the wiring in a weird way because just as Morrissey sang, "...I'd get such a shock I'd probably jump in the ocean...", my headphone shocked my ear. I'm having an off day. Friday night seems to be my personal movie night, so I'm gonna go watch Lawrence of Arabia for the next three hours. I saw it once when I was probably 7. Why my dad thought that'd hold my attention back then is beyond me. I'll be lucky if it holds my attention now. 03*04*05 Good kisses make me go crazy! I'm a little drunk and I should go to bed. Meh. 03*02*05 My friend, Liz, from grade school posted a picture on my myspace profile of the Catholic Church we went to when we were in school together. Little-known fact about me: I went to Catholic school from kindergarten through 8th grade. That picture brought back years of repressed memories. There's nothing like Catholic school to turn a person completely against religion. There was this one time in either 7th or 8th grade when Liz was part of a group of people who had to go up in front of the whole church congregation to read a station of the cross. In case you didn't go to Catholic school for 9 years, the stations of the cross are delightful short stories about the crucifixion of Jesus. Anyway, for some reason or other, when Liz got up to read her part she started laughing. As funny as we all know crucifixion can be, the teachers were not pleased. I dunno why...I thought it was funny. Another neat little fact: they filmed scenes of the original Amityville Horror in that very same church. Liz and I rented it in 7th grade and screamed every time we saw our school. It was the scariest part of the whole movie. Other little-known facts about me: I used to be a ballerina, a radio dj and a gangster. And if you're wondering why I turned out the way I did, here's my dad. 03*01*05 I was just about to type "Happy May Day!", but then I realized it's only March. Wishful thinking I guess. Oh well, Happy March Day! I feel very nauseous at the moment. I decided I needed to start taking my vitamins again, but I just took a bunch on a somewhat empty stomach. I had good intentions. But you know what the road to hell is paved with...peanut butter. Don't let anyone tell you differently. I have a test at 1. I hardly studied. Not that it matters much with this teacher's tests. If I study all the material he went over in class, I'll get to the test and he'll ask something completely off the wall. I've just been feeling really out of it the past few weeks. I haven't been sleeping well. If I have to get up early all the time, I'm fine. If I have to get up a little later all the time, I'm fine. But when I have to alternate between the two, it screws me all up. Look at the new boots I got. I will never fall again. Except maybe when I go ice skating with Chad and his friends again on Saturday night. I'm also going to some garage rock night with him on Thursday. I can't stay out too late though because I have to dissect a frog on Friday. I dunno why, but that upsets me a little more than having to dissect a rat. Speaking of which, meet Scratchy. I had to cut his (actually he's a she) head off last Friday, crack open her skull and take out her brain. Good times. Maybe I should warn people that that previous link is a bit graphic. But you've probably already clicked it by now. Oh well.
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