what does procrastination sound like?

It sounds like sister K vaccuuming out her car, dad practicing scales in his closet (which is, incidentally, on the other side of my wall, so I can hear it all, loud, clear and trumpety). It sounds like my little macbook keys clickity clicking as I type this blog instead of cleaning my room. I'm going to be a terrible mother. I hate cleaning. And when you have kids, you have  to keep your room, your husband's room (also yours, but like his half) and your kids' rooms clean too, until they are old enough to clean. And the rest of the house, in case guests pop in. I am ok with the rest of the house part. In our apartment, generally speaking, I was good at keeping the kitchen, bath, living room etc clean. But my room? Fugghetaboudit. No man wants to marry a messy room gal. Whenever there was even a slight chance of a guy being over, I would clean it. But I would have to maintain cleanliness as a wife and mother. Boo. And it isn't clean. I don't like being filthy. I am, however, messy. And I have a tendency to hold onto things as memorabilia and that clutters things up. The question is, do I marry someone who is really neat and will do the cleaning or do I marry someone messy? Because the neat guy might freak out on my sporadically for being a slob. But the messy guy and I would never pick up. I guess I would have to have a guy on the horizon for that to even be remotely plausible. 

In other news, Irish fest was damp. And full of guinness drunk folk. We saw a sweet ass irish band play, and at irish food, and then came home. Not thrilling. Mom and sister K got things, I couldn't find something I wanted (what I really wanted was a Donegal shirt, but NOOO). Then I had rehearsal. Which was.....the same. I need to memorize me some lines. Like seriously.

Today. Walmart. Always interesting, though today I didn't see any particularly heinous people. I wanted to go to Mystic to a lingerie store, to try and get some silk and/or satin camis, because I like old fashioned-type camis a lot, and I think they'd be the only place to have them. No where else seems to. But now I'm tired and lazy and have to finish my room, so perhaps tomorrow (if they are open). Mom and Dad got invited to a friend's for dinner, so unless sister K stays over and we rent films and eat, I will be alone with the dogs, again. I really want her to stay, but we shall see. Her social calender fills up faster than a fat guy at ponderosa. Boys and dates all the time. I told her, perhaps she could find me someone to go on a date with. Mom said "that is what I was thinking". Gotta love it when the entire family thinks you need to go out on a date. I haven't been on a real date since...since my last real boyfriend. Like two and a half years ago. Unless you count going out for drinks with an older supervisor whom I ought not to have gone out with, and who ended up kissing on a first date, and waaaaaay too intensely. but I don't count that. Because it was shady and awkward. So yea. I guess I should get out there and try to date. Suggestions for how to go about this are welcome.

And now, to finish the room. Which looks like a recycling plant due to my overabundance of vitamin water bottles littering the floor. Ugh. I'm gross. later alligators. 

home alone = dress up

Annnnnd this is what I do when my parents go away and its just me and the dogs. I know, I'm a weirdo. But c'mon, who doesn't love dress up? (actually, the dogs HATE it) In other news, well, no other news. Nothing has happened. At all.

I may be inducing familicide

My father may or may not kill me when I get home tomorrow. yes, tomorrow. I know I was only supposed to be here till today, but then something is going down later tonight so I wanted to stay. And dangit I'm 23 years old. He doesn't own me. I can do what I want.

Thus far, a really successful weekend. Arrived Saturday, about an hour late (for which I received a text from A saying, "OMG the world has stopped spinning, ur late") and hung out and had the first tea of the weekend with him. Then he asked me if I could do voiceover stuff for something he and S are working on. So I did. Then went over to see my darling C, and Alas was there back from the islands, looking a lovely shade of dark brown (I'm jealous) and telling me about swimming with sharks unintentionally (also jealous...I would LOVE to swim with sharks. as long as they were in a cage or I was in a cage. bars betwee please). Watched some Olympics, some Drag Queen Project Runway, quick trip to the A&P then back to A's apartment which no one really lives in anymore, but everyone is always at. Watched Blue Crush with K-C H and K-Hawk and her friend L whom I have been introduced to but always seem to space out on. Then laaaaater A & S came back from filming, we hung out a bit, then back to A's to sleep. And sleep I did. The couches in Alumni are really good for me to sleep on, because I can sit up and still be comfortable. Sunday, slept in MAD late (like 11ish) texted B and we made plans for fabric store shopping and lunch, and went and did that for a while. Back on campus around 4ish, went to the PAC to help out with the video, then came back, totally conked out on the couch and A & S just left me there. And instead of going out and being fun when I woke up, just got in my pjs and read some Irish fairy tales and watched him work. I really love watching him work. He gets all psyched up. And I kept staring into space and he kept asking what I was thinking about, and I can't tell him. Because we're supposed to be just best friends. And I'm supposed to be past thinking about everything. But I miss the way it was. A whole lot. Oh well.

Today, breakfast at Lenny's, dropped him off at the station, got some clothes at Target after calling my mom and her telling me that if I was staying another day, I better be looking into the jobs I applied for here and Manhattanville, so it seems like I'm being productive, or my father will definitely kill me. So I needed something that would not look so lazy weekended. Khakis to go with my black sweater T and some black flats. Less unemployed-college-grad, and a little more successful-semicasual-business-in-the-summer-time-alumni. So after fighting with the Library, I'm printing out more copies of resume, and trying again to find jobs. Here there and anywhere. Later, perhaps some sort of celebratory something, and then home tomorrow. I already called out of work.

If by Wednesday night there is no post, I may have been slain by my father. Let us hope not.

grunge bunny

I remember a little bit ago, K wrote in her blog that maybe she's the only one who reads it. And sometimes I feel the same way. But I don't care. I know my life is mad boring, and I just like to type it out sometimes. Make me feel like someone might care that I saved a mouse or got glasses or what have you.

Even though, in the grand scheme of the entire universe and galaxies and all of that, I am but a speck of matter. Matter that doesn't matter? Who is to say?

The title of today's blog comes from my sister K's description of Vivienne, prior to her grooming today. She was rank. A stanky grunge bunny. But now, she is a stick-legged puffball. and rather amusing to observe.

A & B leave tomorrow. Gone back to school. I too, will be going to Purchase, but just for the weekend. I feel like I'm going to be all "why can't I stay?" even though I don't want to be a student, I just want to be there. As I've said many a time, I get more done and am such a different person there. When I'm at Purchase I have my shit together and work and all that. Home, I'm a lazybones. But it is my goal to see people. Even if it is just a bit. I miss them.

I realized also that with A&B gone and just me here, it could get awkward. Since I have to be the buffer zone between the folkses. Which is why I loved my mom's offer to C to come live with us if he needs time to find a job/apartment. It's not right near the city, but it is closer than where he lives. and perhaps quieter. More space to think. I doubt he will take us up on it, but it's out there. And then I wouldn't be so lonely. I know, I'm selfish, I only think of my needs. But still. 

This week was weird. Haircuts, interviews, random shopping trips with S during work....good. Today I'm wearing my new blue sweater....and if I do say so, it looks mighty fine. The blue is good on me. And my new jeans. Comfy. Not too tight. Tomorrow, off to begin my battle with the PC library folk. And I will win. Dangit. Now, dinner with the fam. Then perhaps something with K? Who knows. 

Adios, amigos.

How to save a life

I saved a mouse today. Gray. Small. I thought maybe his legs were broken but not so. After an hour in the shoebox he had begun to move about and eat the cracker crumbs and drink water. So then I put the box in the garage so if he escaped, it wouldn't be inside, where our ratty kitty would undoubtedly just capture him again, and bring him back, triumphant at having outwitted my silly human kindness. 

I also discovered that charlie horses that cause your toes to curl under and hurt like a mother are no good. And that, to avoid them, I should eat more bananas. Potassium you know. 

Had my interview yesterday. I think it went well. I also applied for a job at Purchase. I don't know why. I'm in a show here, I can't travel two hours twice (three times) a week to rehearse here from Purchase. But I do know why. So I can be in a place where I'm comfortable and know everyone and like everyone. So I can be with friends. Maybe they won't even consider me. Who knows. 

It is tax exempt week here. Which means I should be out shopping. But alas, my body says no. So I say, "Ok....but don't mess up my weekend at Purchase, taking care of business and visiting my loved ones. I'll be nice to you now, but don't try to play me." And I only hope my body decides to listen. Stupid corpus. 

Thats really all I got. The gals are leaving (yes both) on Saturday. And after that, a big ol house with just me, dad and mom. WEEEEEIRD. We'll see how long before I want to jump off the roof. Or live in the shed. 

Bon nuit, little one, bon nuit to you all.

come weary soul and rest upon my shoulder

Well....we had services here. Drove to Colden. Had services there. A lot of family. I was able to get through my part ok. And everyone said it was a lovely and fitting tribute to her. I guess that should make me happy. The whole thing was weird. Staying in the house that is no longer my grandmother's, but my uncle and his wife's. Its really different and awful. And because I'm his godchild, I was the one who had to stay there (to be fair, K stayed until she lost it on Friday and went to A&J's with the rest of the family). As usual, my godson was awful to me. He basically treats me like crap and thinks that it won't matter because as his godmother, I HAVE to love him. And the funny thing is, I don't care. I find him to be more tolerable than his obnoxious little brother. I can't stand him. Colden, was, as usual, beautiful. That is one thing I love about Western NY, so much wide open space. Like miles and miles and miles and so much sky. I love it. And seeing my cute cousins was fun. Zoe and Tylie are adorable. They're learning to talk and do things and its just awesome. In the following pictures, ice cream time, Zoe is all about the neat little licks of her cone, and Tylie is just a mess. Priceless. So yes, following: pictures of the way up, there, and back. Thrilling, I know.

the end.

It is finally over. Now I just have to get through the services here, and the ones in Buffalo, and then life can hopefully return to some sense of normalcy. I hope her soul is free and without the weight of this world. I'm pretty sure she's somewhere with her siblings, friends, and my pop-pop, glad to be reunited. that is all.

can't someone please just drive here and kidnap me, spirit me away to someplace else? I can't take it. it is getting to the point where I no longer just want her to die (she still hasn't. I can't figure it out since she hasn't had fluids in more than 3 days, and no food for a week, why is she hanging on?) but I myself want to die. like I can't escape my family and this whole awful thing and I just want to not even exist. I'm done.

Moocher of Joy?

h'Okay so, you know how you're supposed to be really happy for your friends when things go well for them, and congratulate them and all that? I think I have a problem. The problem isn't that I'm not happy for them, it is, I think, that I am TOO happy. Like with my dear friend getting the job he wanted at VH1 (because he totally did. which I knew he would) I have been mad excited. As soon as he texted me with the info I was like, "YESSSS!" out loud, so everyone around me (I stayed home from work yesterday) was like, "What? What?" and when I explained it they just thought it was nice. But I was lit up like a Christmas tree. And I couldn't help but tell him how awesome and amazing he is, and congrats, and how proud I am (am I his mother? do I have ANY right to be proud at all? I did nothing to contribute to his greatness-perhaps it is like I'm so proud to be friends with someone like him?) and I really think I have an issue. I don't get excited about anything in my own life anymore....but any little thing that happens to him is cause for celebration and a huge grin on my face. And lately, it is the only thing that cheers me up, having him tell me how wonderful his life is going. I don't want to live vicariously through him, especially because I'm not like him in so many ways, but it seems I am freely feeding off of his joy. I hope he doesn't mind. It kind of takes me back to when we first met and first started hanging out, I told him I was just spending time with him because he was always so happy and cheerful that I just wanted to mooch off his joy. He told me that better not be the only reason we hang out. And of course it wasn't. I was falling for him at the time. So I said it was also because of his great smile (which was also true- whether or not I love him, at any given time, I will always be a sucker for his smile). Anyway, I just know I'm like the happiness leech. But I can't help but be happy for him. 

In other news, nonnie still hanging on. Yesterday I actually went in a lot. She even smiled a bit when I came in. I hope she's not in horrible pain, but I think the morphine and adovan are helping with that. 

Now, for work. 

Exhausted. I'm just becoming mentally and physically exhausted. I go to bed at like 8:30 to try and get as much sleep as possible (compensating for the fact that I wake up a ton) and still my body is like, "um yea about that- lets go back to sleep." What is terribly annoying is that when I do sleep, I pretty much only dream about one person, and I shouldn't be dreaming about him. At all. I know it is just because I miss him a ton. But really, subconscious, really? 

So the days keep dragging on. I actually went in the room yesterday evening because mom made me ask aunt C what she wanted to drink for dinner, and it was awful. She is just laying there starving to death, looking more skeletal than when they first brought her. That is why I don't go in. The sight of someone starving to death makes me want to drive off a bridge. Am I being selfish and stupid because I can't give an old dying woman some of my time before she goes? Maybe, but I think it is better that I avoid it than go in and look like I'm all freaked out by her. Everyone knows I don't have a poker face- she would see instantly (even in her drugged out, barely able to open her eyes state) that I was uncomfortable. And wouldn't it feel worse to know that someone is bothered by the sight of you? I think so. Again, I maintain my one visit to tell her I love her rule, and other than that I just can't do it. I feel guilty, but truthfully, I don't want to hurt her feelings. This whole thing sucks.

Finding a job also sucks. I'm so proud of that dear boy, most likely going to work with VH1 soon....I bet he'll get it hands down. He's like wonderboy for all his graphics. I'm really proud of him. As for me, I'm going to be officially without health insurance next Friday, the 16th. Bad news bears. I really really wish one of the places I've sent my resume could just read the summa cum laude part, and all the skills, and be like, "by george she is EXACTLY what we've been searching for!" Alas, it is not so easy. And everyone is like, "You aren't being aggressive enough!" but what would you like me to do? Bang down their doors saying, "YOU NEED TO HIRE ME RIGHT NOW I'M AMAZING!" uh so not my style. I'm a little more subtle. Low key, if you will. I just want to hear back from one, even if it is just an email or call saying they are not interested. Courtesy anyone? 

And now, to get ready. Rain today. Just starting now in fact. I like rain.

Oh Monday Monday how could you leave and not take me?

I'm beginning to feel the wear of the situation, on me, my siblings, and my relatives. K & B are getting mad tense and snapping at everything and both acting as though they aren't the bitchy ones. A & I are trying to lay low. Keep a minimal profile. Except A goes in and sits with nonnie. I cannot. It makes me horrifically uncomfortable and feeling like I shouldn't be there. So I don't go in. And that bothers some people. But I can't do it. And despite taking extra prednisone and trying not to mess up, I can feel my body start to react to the stress. The muscle and joint pain, the swelling, and the headaches. And of course every three to five minutes I spasm and a few times since I was eating, started to choke. Tonight, early to bed. More rest means less body reaction. I hope.

In other news, the incomparable Alfred Hunt wrote me a recommendation for the Mitchell Scholarship, and sent me a little email letting me know that he had just returned from Europe and apologized for not doing it sooner. The man is wonderful. I have to travel to Purchase to get a "certified" copy of my transcript (from which to make 9 other copies, not certified) and of course to get my damn diploma after what I'm sure will be a fun battle with the library. Oh and to pay parking tickets. Fucking Purchase. And perhaps see some friends. But I won't be able to get there till after all this stuff is over. I have jury duty August 22nd, yay for doing your civic duty! And going to Boston to see if the rheumatologists at Beth Israel are more compassionate and more intelligent than mine, who believes that despite my constant pain, since my bloodwork is good, I'm good. Dick.  Still have lots of resumes out there, hoping to find something. Need good insurance. 

But really, other than the whole death looming over my house thing, things are good. I'm lucky. I know this. And for some reason, some little part in my brain is all my buddy A telling me "you need to experience life just like everyone else" so maybe this is just a lesson. Maybe this is about learning to experience things and that you just have to take it in and learn and not be angry or bitter. Death is part of life. I wish he was here. Its pretty stupid when I'm falling apart all I want is for him to pat me on the head and comfort me. But I appreciate the outpouring of kindness from my friends, near and far. As lame and cheesy as it may seem, I gain some strength knowing that everyone cares. 

Where do we go

.......when we die? Does it really just end? I can't fathom ceasing to exist. Ceasing to be. I can't imagine not knowing the things I know, loving the people I love, living the life I live. Do we really just stop being? In Buddhism, after you die you go into the Bardo world, full of demons and tricks trying to keep you from moving on to your next life. But it isn't really you. It's your soul. But it isn't you. In fact, it doesn't remember ever being you. And in the next life, it just starts over. No questions. No weird feeling that it was once you. Of course, as a Christian, I should believe that there is a heaven. A lovely place in the sky, where all the people that died before you are waiting to celebrate with you. Heck, maybe even people you didn't know. Like da Vinci. Maybe you get to meet them and chat with them. But only if you were good. That is the catch, gotta be good. Somehow, I would like to think there is something after you die. Where does the energy that makes up you go? It must go somewhere. Energy does not just disappear. It constantly transforms. And it is one thing to believe that the energy that makes up your physical body then turns into food for the worms that will eat it while you sit in the ground decomposing, but what happens to the energy of your mind? Of your soul? It can't just disappear. It is scientifically impossible. Everyone knows the mind emits great amounts of energy, thats how the power of attraction works. They've done studies showing that your thoughts emit energy. And I'm inclined to believe that thoughts are outside the realm of your physical body. So where does it go? Where do we go? 

If you can't tell, my grandmother is dying. slowly. Tomorrow she will come to our house to basically starve to death, with pain medication so she can't feel it. Hospice is coming in to monitor things, and we have the special bed and oxygen and all of that. That way she won't be in an awful hospital, but will be in what has become her room in our house, windows open and breeze coming in, and all of us here, and we seem to think this will make it better. I don't think it will. She knows what is happening. She can't speak, and rarely responds to us, but I know she knows. And I can't imagine how scared she must be. Because how do you know that you are going to die, and soon, and not freak out? How do you resign yourself to no longer being? I don't know. I guess our purpose is just to remind her how much we love her before she goes. And hope she goes peacefully. But again, how do you just slip peacefully into something you don't know or understand? People I've known, and loved, have died. But not right in front of me. I don't know how to sit by and watch. And what bothers me most, is that I keep having these horrible flashes that someday that will be me. Obviously everyone dies, but I keep having nightmares (when I can fall asleep that is) that its going to happen to me when I'm still young. When I have these dreams, I'm not an 80-year-old woman who has lived a really great life and had love and babies and grandbabies and all that. I'm young. So not only am I scared for my grandmother going into the unknown, but for me. I know this is awful and depressing, but I need to get some of it out. So I apologize. I'm so scared.