You've got a friend in me

Once upon a time there was a little girl. She believed that she could still survive, even though she was alone in the world. She thought it would make her stronger, not having anyone around to care for her. With time she grew weak and weary from being alone in her own mind for so long. Her heart had grown cold. The only emotion she had left for others was disdain. They meant nothing to her, because she meant nothing to them. Then one day, or really over a few years, certain people began to see the girl for what, and who, she truly was. They loved her and she began to love them in return. Though, it took a few years for her to remember what it meant to love, she was able to love again. She became a better person for it.

If this story sounds at all familiar, you probably know me. You've probably known me for years if you know that story. Or, the other alternative, this story is also about you, whether you be male or female. Gender is always interchangeable. The only difference, really, is in the actual meaning of gender. One inserts and one receives. Otherwise, we're all the same. Anyway, I was once alone. Though that "once" lasted for many years. My family stopped caring about me and the way I felt and who I was the second I entered the double digits of age. I had a few great friends until I was about 14. Two of my best friends moved away. The other, well, that's a different story. I was no longer "cool" enough for this so called friend. I had known her for 4 years but suddenly the "cool" people she had known for 4 months became her top priority. I was pushed to the bottom of her popularity ladder and they took my spot. However, when I showed any sign of moving away from her, from pushing her down on my own so-called ladder, she dropped me off hers completely. I was no longer good enough, no longer important. So, for the next two years I remained alone. I would attempt to reconvene with certain lost friendships but it was never successful. I was even less successful in the department of romance. The opposite gender barely glanced in my direction, and if they did it was merely to ogle at my cleavage [which has always been abundant]. I wasn't about to be their eye-candy. That wasn't what I was looking for.

When I turned sixteen everything changed. I had a new best friend. She cared about me more than I cared about myself. Over the next rocky year we had our downs and ups, including some very steep downs that seemed to last a lifetime. But a year strong we are closer than ever. A year after meeting her, I met my current boyfriend. I happened upon him in the hallway one day talking to our friend, the crazy republican Texan. He has no idea how thankful I am for him knowing Sean. [Sean is my boyfriend, and the only specific name I will mention] Sean is the fluorescent, buzzing, flickering light of my life. He is crazy and adorable and annoying and lovable and horrible all wrapped up into one person. He is my imperfect perfection. I love him.

If not for my best friend and Sean, who doubles as my best friend, I would probably not have survived. I've gone through so many difficult times I don't know what I would do without them. They mean more to me than the world and I owe them everything.

Picturesque

I feel like posting a bunch of pictures for no reason....They'll prolly be really random. Enjoy. =D


I <3 Ratties!!

Best British transvestite comedian EVER!! "Cake or death?!"

I want a ferret! =[

I've only ever seen one rainbow. This isn't even that one. This is some rainbow in Hawaii or something...

The Right to Write

Bob Marley once said, "What we really want is the right to be right, and the right to be wrong."

I want to be a writer. Every fiber of my being aches for it. One of the only times I feel I am truly being myself is with a pen in my hand and an empty notebook to fill. I believe that the ultimate way to voice any opinion is through someone elses voice. Every writer gets the chance to do this, but not all take full advantage of it. As a writer you can basically say anything you want. As long as it comes from your character and not directly from you, you do no harm. You can live out any fantasy, any bizarre wish you please. It is written down and not performed and, thus, no harm done. You can be whatever you want to be. Atleast, for a moment in time.

I don't write often enough. Nor do I finish what I start writing often enough. I always come up with good ideas and then lose interest in them. It's weird. I just have too short an attention span to keep writing something thats like, 500 pages long. I'm better with about 10-50 pages.

I write screen plays sometimes too. But those are a bit of a fruitless effort. I don't really have the resources to get them filmed. And by resources, I mean enough friends to makes asses of themselves for a camera. The scripts that I write are pretty decent. And very varying in storyline/genre. I've written everything from silent films, to romance, to period peices, to Clerks-Eque films, to horror.

I'm an English major in college at the moment. But depending on where I end up going for my Bachelors, I may try to minor in Film Studies or something along those lines. I really don't know yet.

Turkey Day At Last

The winter holidays are a time when any family can come together and sit down for at least one civilized meal a year. [Maybe you can squeeze in two, with some promises of pie] My family has never really had problems being civil but we do have some problems with togetherness. My dads side of the family are all really close to one another, and I love them all very dearly. However, my moms side of the family is a different story. Almost every member of my moms family lives in a different state. When we go to my aunt's house in Pennsylvania once a year for Turkey Day festivities there isn't really much catching up or conversation except for the customary "How's school?" "Anything new happening in your life?" To which the most obvious and mechanical answers are "Fine.", and "Not much." Also, when we go to my aunt's house we all seem to fall into different groups. My aunt, uncle, cousin Allison and parents spend their time in the living room watching football or the yearly dog show. Me, my sister, and my cousin Meredith spend our time in the adjacent sitting room watching sitcom marathons and playing board games. Me and Meredith tend to float between rooms trying to interconnect the two groups, in a way. Then we all sit down to dinner and fill up on all the yummy food at least several family members have contributed, spend a few more hours separated into our rooms and then reconvene for dessert. Eventually we get bored of the charade and depart.

My favorite winter holiday by far, like most people, is Christmas. This fact is obviously ironic when you learn the fact that I am atheist. I love Christmas because this holiday mostly involves the people we really care about and gives us adequate time to spend with them, eat with them, and shower each other with pointless gifts. [come on, it's the thought that counts anyway] Every year my family has a group of our closest family friends over on Christmas Eve for dinner, and gift giving. This party used to be huge when I was little. We would attempt to cram about 20-25 people into our tiny apartment-like home and serve a buffet style meal. After which we would all separate into the living room and dining room and pass out gifts. Now the party has become much more toned down. The guest list now averages out at about 10-15 people and is much more intimate and, obviously, much less hectic. It's fun to sit around with the people you love and laugh until your sides hurt and really show them how much you love them. It just feels good.

Almost every Christmas morning my family has a set routine. We get up and make tea and coffee. My mom, my sister and I look through our stockings while my dad starts cooking breakfast. [crepes with berries and whipped cream and bacon...same thing every year and we only have it once a year] Then we all have breakfast together. Usually around this time my gramma shows up and eats with us. Then we move back into the living room and open the rest of our presents, including the ones Gramma brought with her when she arrived. After that's done we all get dressed and ready and head out to my aunt and uncles house. [this is a different aunt and uncle. this is my dads sister. the other was my moms. are you following me here?] Once we arrive, the process basically starts all over again. Food, Presents, Laughter. What more do we need?

On a lighter note...

We watched "Oh, Brother. Where art thou?" in my Film class tonight. I LOVE THAT MOVIE!! I never really fancied myself a George Clooney fan but I must admit he is great in that movie. Also, John Turturro is one of my favorite actors. He's so good. And pretty versatile. He's really good in "Secret Window."

Speaking of that, I love Johnny Depp too. [Ohgosh...Now I'm about to go off an amazing tangent. I love doing this.] Besides the fact that he is an amazingly attractive older man, He's a ridiculously talented actor. Probably my favorite movie he's been in is "Sleepy Hollow." Christina Ricci is also pretty great. I reallyreallyreally like her in "Ghost World." Her character is ... odd.... to say the very least. I never really understood the plot and/or storyline of that movie. But I did like it. Which I guess makes no sense but whatever.

We watched "Brick" too, a couple weeks ago, which is also an amazing movie. I swear to God I thought that kid from Third Rock had like, fallen off the face of the Earth until I saw that movie. And I lovelovelove the poem the one girl recites while playing piano. I have no idea who it's by though. I think it might be Emily Dickinson, but I'm not sure. I'll hafta find out. Hmmm...

What the hell did I start this off talking about? I'm so lost now. Crikey. I'm random. Ohwell....Uhmmm....NEW SUBJECT!

I made deviled eggs for Turkey Daaay!! They are mighty tastey. My boyfriend helped but he doesn't like eggs, so, yea, that's kinda weird. I actually don't like eggs either. Honestly, they creep me out a little bit. But deviled eggs are too tastey not to like. I <3 Turkey Day. HAPPY TURKEY DAY TO EVERYONE!! I'll probably post a solely Turkey Day related blog tomorrow night, after all the mass amount of food have been consumed. NightNight.

LadeefuckingDah

OK, So I got a comment that I need to stop complaining. Where do you get off telling me this? That is the only question I really have for you, whoever you are. Most likely someone who doesn't even know me or has never met me. Correct? If you want me to stop "complaining" don't give me material to base it upon. And anyway, for future referance, this blog is about what I happen to be thinking about at the time of posting. So far the past few days I haven't been exactly satisfied with my current situation. No doubt that will most likely change in the near future. So if you don't like my complaining, deal with it and move on. I'll write about something different in a day or two. Everyone has a right to be upset or unsatisfied. I hope you won't exclude me from that pleasure from now on.


P.S. You just complained about me complaining. Paradoxical, no?

School Daze

I just returned from scheduling my classes with my college advisor. How am in college at my young age? Because I'm apparently a freaking genius. Except not. I just took the placement test, passed and started taking classes. I still have to go to high school though, which is shitty. I go for a half a day there [which means 4 periods, or 3 and a half hours] and then go home. Then in the afternoon or night or whenever the class is scheduled for on whatever day I go to my community college. Brookdale Community College, by the way. I kind of like it here and kind of don't. I mean, it's better than just going to high school, but its not the same as being a college student. I mean, yes, technically, I am a college student and I am enrolled here, but I still live at home with all the same restraints as before I started here.

There is, however, an upside. I have a 12 credit head start on almost every freshman next year. Which means I will complete my associates one semester ahead of them. So YAY for that! That is also my basic premise for doing this in the first place. To get in and out as quickly as possible so I can be out in the world on my own. I threatened to leave my house last night, even. I just can not stand that place anymore or the people in it. None of them understand me. My dad tries to and he's a sweet man but he doesn't really get it. I guess, in a way, he's too conservative. I also know in some ways this may just sound like normal teenaged, "I-want-to-get-away" angst, but it isn't. I'm truly just too different from all of them. I've had so many life experiences at such a young age that I'm basically at the same maturity level as any adult I know, and almost twice as intelligent as most of them. Which leads to them not understanding anything about me, let alone anything I say. Most of the time I feel like I'm lost in the world.

Sugar is sweet.

Sometimes you can spend all day with someone, look them in the eye, tell them you love them, express undying devotion and get everything doubly in return, and still it feels as if they haven't really been there at all. You feel empty and unfulfilled. Everything that was said and done doesn't matter because they weren't really there. Physically yes they were, but they weren't ever really there for you in full.

You can be with someone and they can be there with you but they're really not there at all, they're somewhere else.

It may sound as if I just repeated the same thought about one hundred thousand times but its not really all the same. Some things matter and some things don't and when you're fully with someone you expect them to be the same way and feel the same way. But sometimes there's too much on someones mind or sometimes, and this is the worse part, they really just don't care as much as you do. You don't matter to them as much as they do to you. Now, obviously, this is not always the case. But I still don't understand it.

I don't understand a lot of things about people. Especially the way some of them act when they truly care about someone. If you are truly in love you should lose all of your personal wanting and want everything for them. Or is that just me? Am I just so crazy that I invest my entire being fully into another person, lose myself in them? Should it not be that way? Because it feels so right and when the other person doesn't do that same for you you feel betrayed. At least, I do. I expect to get back what I give to others. Is that too high an expectation? Is the human race not so innately caring and compassionate that they will give back what they receive? I'm figuring, so far, that that is why our home planet is suffering so badly. All we do is take from it, giving nothing back. No holds barred stealing from our own home. So, obviously, if we cannot instinctively nurture each other we cannot nurture our planet, ourselves, our lives. So, really, none of it matters at all, which takes me back to my first point. Being with someone and fully investing in being there with them completely is pointless. You can kiss someone with all the passionate fire you have and it will still be for naught if they are not fully passionate in that kiss as you are. I guess what we should do is expect the very least, that way we are always satisfied and surprised with the magnitude of the little we receive.

The sun, whose rays

The sun, whose rays
Are all ablaze
With ever-living glory,
Does not deny
His majesty--
He scorns to tell a story!
He don't exclaim,
"I blush for shame,
So kindly be indulgent."
But, fierce and bold,
In fiery gold,
He glories all effulgent!
I mean to rule the earth,
As he the sky--
We really know our worth,
The sun and I!
Observe his flame,
That placid dame,
The moon's Celestial Highness;
There's not a trace
Upon her face
Of diffidence or shyness:
She borrows light
That, through the night,
Mankind may all acclaim her!
And, truth to tell,
She lights up well,
So I, for one, don't blame her!
Ah, pray make no mistake,
We are not shy;
We're very wide awake,
The moon and I!

-unknown-

I <3 ExplodingDog.com

The title of this picture is: This is how people get hurt.


Pleaseplease visit this site. Its ridiculously incredible! I looooove it!

Not So Fairy Tale Ending

Once upon a time, I wanted everything. Then one day I realized what a stupid fucking idea that was. Then I went on to simply hope for everything. But I never again got that same lusty satisfaction from my progress towards my goal of infinite everything. It was simply a fleeting moment of praise, no longer a triumphant cacophony of joy. Even still, it felt strange not to have people lining the streets, waiting to call my name and shower me with affection. It was odd that no one but me noticed my every accomplishment. Why do they not care? Why don't they know what incredible things I've accomplished.

Again, I realized how ridiculously fucking stupid I was being. I changed my direction once again. Now I resolved to simply strive for everything, but at all times remain satisfied with what I had, or had obtained, at that moment. My life suddenly became an eternal sitcom. Everything was funny, everything turned out OK, everyone blissfully unsatisfied. I hated it. I hated it more than I had hated the wanting. I didn't know what to do.

Have you ever wanted something so badly you could taste it? You could feel it tingle and crawl its way up through your skin and seep into your veins and hardening your heart. Suddenly, nothing but that wanting matters. This is a triple edged sword, of sorts. On one end, if your wanting is pure and can only have a positive outcome, then you are on a track to great happiness. However, if your wanting is of something frugal and unobtainable, then you have set your self up for a steep climb to disappointment. Then, in high contrast to both, your wanting could simply be fantasy, in which case you have thrown yourself head first into a world of pain and dissatisfaction.

So, finally, I decided that all the wanting and hoping and striving wasn't at all what I needed, or in fact what I truly wanted. I simply decided to move towards goals by doing smaller things that might help me get there, but not only dwell on that goal and that wanting, and enjoy what I was currently a part of.

Finally, I was happy. I wasn't where I had "wanted" to be, but I was on my way.

Goalie

My goals for the next year-ish:

1: Get a better, more frequent, higher paying job.

2: Save enough money to get own apartment (possibly w. roommate?)

3: Figure out what the hell is wrong with my heart and get it fixed

4: Film 2 movies

5: Start a novel/short story book

6: Finally make a career decision. Child care, Director, Writer, or all of the above?

P.S. If I know you and youre interested in being my roomy next year lemme know. It would be ridiculously helpful, I HAVE to get out of my house!

When?

When does it end? When can I be done with all this? When will all my pain be gone? When will I be finished with it? When can I finally be deemed as healthy, normal, and completed? When will people no longer tiptoe past or whisper when near me? When will I no longer be a fragile, breakable object that no one is willing to touch? When will they no longer be afraid of me? When will I not have to be afraid of my future, or lack-there-of? When will someone tell me, knowing for sure, that everything will be alright? When will doctors no longer look at me with that sad uncertainty behind their eyes? When will my time come? When can I finally be free of my prison? When will normality ensue?

Sobering Experience

So, as per my recent remarks on the Blues Traveler show, I was told that the "middle aged dancing idiots" were completely sober. I however was referring to one person in particular. Guess I should have been more clear. However, If the person whom commented on my recent post WAS the man I am referring too, then you need to take some dance lessons.

All in good fun, I promise. ;D

Importance

How important are you to this world? How will you shape your life and how will you change the world by doing so? These are the questions I eternally ask myself. I probe my mind for the answers. I want to be imporant, I want to be remembered, I want to be revered. But how can I acheive such recognition? I want people to hear my name in the future, or a quoting of something I have said or written, and have shivers run up their spine and I want them to think, "If only that could be me." I have multiple levels I strive for. I want to be wisdom. I want to be beauty. I want to be art. I want to smell, taste, touch. I want to be a sense in and of itself. I want to be looked upon by people with smiles upon their faces. I want to make someone proud. I want to know who I am. How can I do this? I have my whole life left in front of me yet it feels as if I have such a short time. So little time left and so much to fill it with. I want to be someones goal, the way so many are my inspiration for me to reach for certain things, certain levels, certain places I wish to be in my lifetime. I want everything but mapping out a plan for it all is so difficult. I feel as if nothing will ever get done. I wander. I dream. I space. Spacey. A singular word that seems to signify everything I am. I am from another planet, galaxy, universe and dimension. I don't belong here sometimes. Sometimes I wish I knew where I had come from. My heart aches trying to find its place in this world. I think it knows where I belong but it simply cannot alert my mind. It tries to jump, pump out of my chest and show me where I belong. Where do I belong?

Blues Traveler

I saw Blues Traveler perform tonight! They were amazing. It was kinda weird though. As absorbed as I was in the amazing music I kept noticing how great the lighting was. It was cool. And added to my insatiable need to start a band. The people that were at the show got sooo wasted, too. It was ridiculous. Middle aged idiots drunk and dancing. I thought this one guy was gonna fall off the balcony.

I want to start a band soooo badly. I love playing guitar and singing is fun though I dont really know if I'm any good. I'm a decent song writer, too. I would want a sort of jam band though, alot like Blues Traveler. Where its just laid back and everything about the music. I love how hip they are. The lead singer and the guitarist were smoking while they were on stage playing which I found to be really funny. I don't know how the guy could smoke and sing and play the harmonica all at the same time. Quite impressive.

So, Who wants to join my band?

Slightly Less Than Fictional

Once upon a time, there was a no-name girl with rainbow hair and eyes made of pearl. At the age of five her family locked her away in the tower of a castle in a far off land. They were afraid of her strange appearance and odd ways. She talked to all animals and seemed to have sublime powers. She could feed thoughts into your mind and read the ones you were already thinking. She could tell you things without ever opening her mouth.

From the age of five she lived alone in the castle with no one but her governess and her only friend, a black cat she was given at the age of two. She told this cat her deepest secrets and darkest wishes. The cat, in return, taught her everything she needed to know about the world. Together they ruled, in their own private imaginary world inside their castle. They played all the parts in their magnificent play of life. The little girl, naturally, always played the mother with the cat as her child or servant. Sometimes the girl was a queen and the cat her loyal subject, other times she played a princess and the cat was her sorceress. Every time it was different and every time it was real. Everything they could imagine came to life.

By the age of 16 the girl began to grow weary, lonely and depressed with her life locked away in the castle. She could barely remember what other people looked like or what it was like to speak with humans. The cat, growing old and weak had become an unfortunate playmate. The cat now played the sole part of care taker and companion for the girl. Everyday the girl would gaze out the window, hoping and wishing in vain that someone, anyone would wander by. Everyday for two years she waited and no one ever walked by the castle. And yet, the girl still believed if she waited long enough, one day someone would walk by and notice her.

One rainy afternoon, which happened to be the day of the girls eighteenth birthday, the girl was looking out her window. Far off in the distance behind a thick forest she could see the edge of the clouds meet an edge of sunlight. She sat there waiting and wishing, as she did everyday, and doubly on her birthdays, that someone would come and find her. By the time nightfall came and the rain has subsided, the girl was giving up all hope that anyone would ever come for her. Suddenly, as she was rising from seat on the window sill, she heard the faint sound of horse hooves coming from the forest. She waited, listening, as the sound grew steadily louder. Soon she could make out a cascade of lamp light through the trees. The girls heart began to soar as she saw a magnificent black horse emerge from the edge of the forest. At this distance she could just make out its rider, a young man with thick brown hair, sitting atop the horse.

The girl flung her arms out wide through the window frame, as if she were about to soar like a bird out of the window, and yelled to the man. He stopped for a moment and gazed up at the girl. For a moment, a look of confusion crossed his face and then a smile began to spread his lips. He started off again, faster now, towards the castle. The girl watched patiently as he road over the draw bridge and through the castle entrance. She ran down the staircase and threw herself into the young mans arms.
"You are the one I've been waiting for." She told him."The one that I've seen in my dreams!"
" I dreamt of you too," The young man replied, "When I was young. It stopped when my family sent me away but I knew I had to find you. I knew you could save me."
"I don't understand," The girl said, "What am I supposed to save you from?"
"Heart break."

Inked

I have finally decided on most of the tattoos that I want. It was a tough decision but I think I've narrowed it down pretty succesfully. Here they are!!

Sexual Orientation

So today I found out that someone I know is gay/lesbian. Which did not surprise me too much because of who it was and what I know about them, their personality, their life, etc... However, as I was talking to another gay friend of mine I began thinking what the big deal seems to be about all of this sexual orientation controversy. I mean, I'm Bi. Which I know is sort of an on-the-fence type thing but I tend to find both genders extremely attractive. I am however in a serious hetero relationship. Anyway, back to my point. What is the big deal?

Why does matter who loves who? As long as there is love in the world, whether it be gay or straight, the world will continue to thrive. Love is what makes the word go round. I hate when people are disgusted at the sight of two men kissing, or a lesbian couple holding hands. And I've noticed lately that most people that object to "alternative lifestyles" are people who are probably not particularly satisfied with the state of their own lives. I personally feel there is nothing wrong with being in love, no matter who you are in love with. Now, thats where this subject gets a little difficult. Because, you could bring up other "alternative" lifestyles such as pedofilia and beastiality. Those however and declared illegal and have nothing to do with love and more to do with violence.

In short: Love who you love and feel no shame. No one should have to be afraid of who they are.

Femminine Road Signs

Madrid, Spain has decided to end sexism in road signs! They are now asking manufacturers to incorporate skirted and ponytailed figures into their street signs. Old and broken street signs will now be replaced with the new, less discriminatory signs at no cost to tax payers.

Don't we already have those in America? Except for the "walk/don't walk" signs that just have the little walking man. We have street signs with whole families darting across the street. Why is Madrid so far behind? Silly Spaniards... And anyway, whats all the fuss in history about women being so terrible? If you go by religion, yes Eve commited the first sin but all she did was eat a freaking apple! Cain murdered his own goddamn brother and God forgives him?! Now thats what I call bullshit.

Original article

Hair Dye Update

So yes, my hair dye adventure last night didn't go quite as planned. I wanted to change my blue hair back to blonde because the blue was fading and looked pretty shitty.

So I bought the blondest hair dye I could find at my local drug store and set myself up. I left the dye on for the recommended 25 minutes and when I washed it out, my blue ends had turned a stealy grey and my blonde roots had turned a slightly lighter ashy blonde. So I shall try again tonight or tomorrow and update on my results. Hopefully next time it'll come out a little more bombshell and a little less old lady.

Coffee Talk

Working in a coffee shop is an interesting job. I meet loads of interesting people. And loads of annoying, whiney people. And loads of obnoxious people. And lots of tiny children and their rich mommies. My favorite part is the different groups that tend to be there at the same time and trying to listen to their conversations. One group will be talking about the horrible murder they just read about in the news paper, another group of women chatting about the attractive young man that just started working at Such and Such Inc., and another group of men arguing about whether Macs are better than PCs. My head literally buzzes by the end of the day with the endless, mindless chatter of all the caffeine driven costumers.

Then there's my boss who never ever stops talking. He will talk to you, literally, about anything. From his plethora of "girlfriends", to the annoyances of marriage, to his scooter obsession, to what the best kind of coffee is [ours of course!], and all his crazy collections his accumulated from garage sale foraging. He tends to like to preach about the "younger generation" as well. How horribly misinformed his generation was and how different we all are. I tend to just shut my ears and roll my eyes at his endless attempts to be philosophical.

The best thing about my job, hands down, is the endless amount of free caffeine and baked goods. Our cookies are borderline orgasmic! All thanks to my dad, our baker, who went to the Culinary Institute of America. Our coffee is definitely the best of the Jersey shore. The espresso as well. Espresso drinks are my favorite because you basically have endless possibilities. At the moment, I'm sipping a caramel latte, but I could just as easily turn around and make a chocolate caramel half-caff cappucino.

Another thing I love is our regulars. Well, most of our regulars. The people I like would be, my uncle Joe [known him all my life and I love him], Lou [our Italian espresso sipper], my dad [he does work here, ya know], the mayor [he's ridiculously down to earth], and almost all of my dads good friends. They're the best. Then there's the bad regulars. Like this one woman, dubbed "Kenya Lady", whom is the most annoying woman on the planet. And the bratty, rich kids who are afraid of our pastries because they're not wrapped in plastic with a colorful cartoon character on the packaging. The little old ladies who can't figure out that our coffee is self-serve, and take about a half an hour to decide that they actually don't want anything else. In worse cases, anything at all.

After all that ranting, I must admit, I really do love my job. It's two days a week, from 8AM to 2PM, and all I do is take peoples money, brew coffee, and blog my life away. It is truly the good life.

Bad hair days

I personally find dying my hair to be one of the most annoyingly amusing things to do. I have probably died my hair every color of the rainbow: Blonde, Red, Brown, Black, Blue, Teal, Purple, Maroon, Orange [by accident] and probably a few others I am leaving out. I currently have blonde hair dye on my head and my scalp itches profusely, one of the major down sides to hair dying at home. But ohwell, I deal. Blonde is, so far, definitely my favorite hair color for myself. I'm blue eyed and somewhat freckled so I guess it works for me. However, everyone looks good with a different color. Here's a way to tell what colors will look good on you:

First, pick a LARGE selection of colors that appeal to you. If you esspecially like a certain "Natural" color, pick out a few different shades. A good way to tell if certain colors or shades will look good on you is to look at the side of the hair dye packaging. Many companies offer a shade guide to show what shade you will come out with depending on your current hair color. If the packaging does not offer such advice, simply hold the displayed color on the box up next to your face and see what you think. Also, take into account that a color that looks fabulous on the hair model may not look quite a fabulous on you. In fact, it may look down right horrible. Other things to consider in choosing the right color for you hair is the other colors on your body: your skin and eyes, whether or not you have freckles, etc.


Next you must decide how long you want your color to stay with you. If you're looking for a few years of change or want to lighten your hair a great deal, permanent hair dye is your best bet. If you want the option to change your hair color again over the next year or so, semi or demi permanent hair dyes are for you. And, finally, if you just want a quick and breif change of pace go with a temporary dye. The type of dye you want to buy also depends on the color that you choose. If you chose to lighten your hair, you are going to want a fairly permanent dye. But for those who want a darker shade, a less permanent dye may be used.

Now that you've got your dye you've got to make sure you're ready to venture into the actual act of hair dying. To set yourself up, either wear and old, loose fitting t-shirt, a button down shirt you don't care about, or no shirt at all for the less modest. Then, cover your shoulders and neck with either a dark colored or old beat up towel. Now, this step may be optional depending on the type and color of dye that you have purchased. You may want to go around your hairline coating the skin with a thin layer of vaseline and/or baby oil to keep the dye from staining your foredhead and ears and other such areas around or near your hair and hairline.

Now, simple follow the rest of the instructions that came with your hair dye and I'm sure you'll be fine. And if it doesnt work or the outcome is not what you expected, look at it this way, it's just hair. In most cases it will grow out or you can pay a salon to fix your mistakes. And sometimes, mistakes can be glorious blessings in disguise.

Movie Remakes

In my opinion almost every movie remake in history is terrible. Unless they are completely true to the original story and atleast somewhat true to the original directors vision, it is a guaranteed flop. Even worse is when the story line is completely changed. Trying to modernize an older movie is a horrible idea. Thats what they have period peices for people!!
For example, the film "Yours, Mine and Ours." was fantasticly made. A great story with great actors and wonderfully directed. Then they take the movie almost 30 years later and ruin it. They tore it apart and put it back together in the worst way possible. I mean come on people, two white people giving birth to an Asian, Indian and African American child?! How completely implausible is that? Its ridiculously bad planning, directing, writing and casting.
And then there's "The Warriors". A late seventies film about the different gangs in New York City, specifically the Warriors, whom everyone suspects to have murdered a famous gang leader whom wanted all the gangs to band together to form one huge gang to rule the city. A great cast and great story about to be anihilated by none other than MTV productions. The only similarity between the old and the new? The title. Thats it. Absolutely nothing else about this "remake" will be similar to the original. In my own personal opinion: Fuck that shit.

You may be thinking "What's 'sub-urban'?"

You probably are wondering what sub-urban is. You are probably familiar with the simple word "suburban", however, sub-urban is slightly different. I will explain this to you.

Sub-urban:[sUb-er-bEn] (adj.) at a state of being slightly less than urban.

and for those of you not aware of the meaning of the word urban:

Urban: [ur-bEn] (adj.) characteristic of the city or city life.

More specifically: Characteristic of New York City and the NYC lifestyle.

You see, sub-urban is slightly less than urban, yet slightly more than suburban. I live on the Jersey shore. I can literally see the New York City skyline from my rooftop. And yet, it seems so far away. Such a distant, ethereal place. It's as if I could reach out and touch it if only my arms were a few inches longer. I want it. I can taste the city air on my lips and smell it in my nostrils 24/7. Unfortunately, I am 4 months shy of my 18th birthday. But I fear I will end up living in this small NJ town for the rest of my life. I will forever be stuck in a place where everybody knows your name. Its all too familiar. I just need a goddamn change.