July 30, 2010

No, I don’t mean actual tumors, although I’m not a big fan of those either.  I am referring to food that appears to be growing a tumor.  If you don’t know what I mean than consider yourself lucky, because it’s gross.  I have no explanation for this phenomenon.  Let me provide a visual so you can fully grasp what I’m talking about:

Just finding this image and having to look at it made me dry heave, ick.  Ok, I admit, it’s a strange thing to be so freaked out by. I get upset about really bizarre things, I fully admit this, but I feel as though there must be other people that find this distrubing.

I love to bake, and when I was making oatmeal raisin cookies once I pulled out a tray from the oven and almost threw up.  One of the cookies had this bulbous protruding raisin on the side; it was huge.  I couldn’t deal with looking at it, so I pulled the raisin out, but the large cavernous hole it left in the cookie, grossed me out just as much. So, I had to throw out the cookie.  The people I was with looked at me like I was absolutely out of my mind.  I can understand that, but as pragmatic as I am about most other things, I remain irrational about this.  Now best I can figure, the raisin was too far out of the cookies and air got in the raisin and plumped it up.  In theory this is not bothersome or grotesque, but when played out in life it creeps me out beyond measure.

This is probably something I should be embarrassed to tell people, because it’s ridiculous, but it’s also kind of hilarious in its strangeness.  So, yeah, if you ever witness me throw away a seemingly good piece of fruit, or some other kind of food, now you know why.


Just a Short…

July 28, 2010

time ago, it seems, I was a kid.  It actually wasn’t that recently since I’m twenty-two, but in terms of life span (which will, I hope, be pretty long) I’m closer to infancy than elderly.  In some ways it definitely feels like a million years ago, but in a lot of ways if feels like just yesterday that, well, that I looked like this:

Anyone who knows me now would have a hard time believing this is actually me, because I look nothing like this now.  For one thing I am in no way blonde anymore, and my eyes are no longer blue.  However, this is indeed me when I was, I’d say, two or three years old.

There’s no denying the obvious benefits of being an adult, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice to be a little kid again sometimes.  There’s something to be said for the freedom of running around all day, with my hair looking like that, ice cream on my face, without a care in the world.  Then getting to curl up on my grandpa’s lap for some relaxation.  Ahh those were the days.  Plus, I used to get a pretty killer tan when I was a kid; this has also vanished with time, weird I know.

It’s usually during summer when I feel nostalgic about being a kid, because winter was way less fun as a child.  There was mandatory outerwear foisted upon us, no outdoor play time, and a myriad of other annoyances (this clearly applies to places with cold winters; So. California in the winter is probably pretty much the same as the rest of the year).  Summer, however, meant long days of bike riding, touch football, basketball, sidewalk chalk drawing, scully playing, ice cream eating, and playing tag till it was dark out.  When I was growing up my block was full of kids my age, and we had a blast, despite out limited outdoor space (such is life as a city kid I suppose).

Anyway, as July winds down, and school looms on the horizon, childhood summers always come to mind.  A time when the first week of school, while dreaded, never came with much work, just lots of textbook covering, but no real homework to speak of. So, it felt like summer was not really over, since the weather was still warm, the days still long, and work in short supply.

I may also just be in a work funk right now, as I sit photoshopping all day. Maybe I’ll flag down the ice cream truck tonight, just for old times sake.

Secrets We Keep

July 26, 2010

I love the PostSecret Project, I’ve mentioned this before. I think it’s great to get a glimpse into other peoples lives.  However, as much as I like it, it strikes me as a little sad that we can’t say these things to people we really want to say them to.

It’s still an awesome project though.


July 26, 2010

Ireland is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen.  I took some rockin’ pictures while I was there this summer, but I don’t like to put pictures online (except for one or two here and there). So, I guess you’ll have to take my word for it.  I hate traveling, but I love reaching a new destination.  Even though flying is essentially being trapped in a cylindrical prison with dirty circulating air, there are moments that make it worth it. Because there is nothing quite like being in the clouds.

It makes flying okay, even great, for a little while, which is why flying during the day is so much better than flying at night. ‘Cause let’s face it, I can barely sleep in my own bed, never mind a plane chair.  So these few moments of tranquility are awesome; these are some of the most peaceful moments I’ve ever known.

Freon Love

July 26, 2010

Air conditioning is pretty much amazing. Summers in New York can be rather brutal, humid, hot, just unbearable. So, being able to step into a nice climate-controlled room is amazing.  I say room and not house because I’ve never had central air.  It’s something I aspire to have someday; sad I know.  Anyway, my appreciation for air conditioning really blossomed when I started college.  I never used an a.c. until I was reasonably old, but once I lived in Montauk it was entirely necessary, as the humidity out there is beyond belief.  However, I never truly understood how life saving air conditioning was until freshman year at FIT, where I lived in Nagler Hall.

Let me paint the picture for you: it’s August in New York City. Nagler Hall is the schools first dormitory; it has no air conditioning, and windows without screens.  This was a situation I was not in any way prepared to handle.  I didn’t sleep for a good three months, until the temperature dropped a marked amount.  This was also the first time in my life that I resorted to taking cold, I mean freezing cold, showers and throwing myself directly into bed.  It provided the smallest modicum of relief for about five to ten minutes.  It was God awful.  However, my roommate, Jen Bubbles, and I soldiered through it and survived those first hot months of freshman year, and were better friends for I think.  Luckily, next year I moved into the brand spankin’ new dorms, complete with central heat and a.c. August was much easier to handle let me tell you.

Now that I’m back living at home, with no central air, I truly appreciate the times when I’m in places with central air, like on vacation. I like it so much better for a few reasons. First because I truly despise the hum and drone of window/wall units.  I’m a troubled sleeper, to say the least, so the noise is hard for me to deal with. With that being said, it’s better to listen to the a.c. than die of the heat.  Second, central air would be awesome because then I wouldn’t have to take to lying on my basement floor for some relief from the heat.  It could be worse of course, but central air would be pretty sweet, until such a time I am happily enjoying the air conditioning in my bedroom.

Anyhow, to quote from one of my favorite movies: “freon is gonna change the good ol’ U.S of A.”  It sure did.

Lose the Late-itude

July 23, 2010

There is nothing worse than chronic lateness. Okay, there are worse things, like famine, but it’s not far behind.  I hate hate hate when people are constantly late for everything.  Especially if said people don’t even seem to think it’s a problem.  If you show up late and make a quiet entrance, seem kind of embarrassed , and are remorseful, then I have an easier time letting it slide.  This habit is especially annoying in classroom situations; I hate seeing people stroll into class late with coffee and a bagel. Like really?!?! Fuck you, if you’re late I expect to see you walk into class a little out of breath from running to get to your location as soon as possible. You should not be walking in with breakfast; if you can’t plan ahead than you don’t get nourishment, wait till lunch.  I have always been on-time for everything, well actually I’m always early, so I feel as though there is no excuse for lateness (except at a party of course, where it’s preferable to be fashionably late).

Maybe my feelings on this subject are a bit heightened since I spent a significant portion of my childhood waiting for my father to take me to or pick me up from places.  He was always late, always.  This of course infuriated me, but I had no control over the situation, which probably just made me even more annoyed, so all I could do was complain to no avail.  I never understood why people couldn’t figure out a way to fix this problem.  If you’re late once, then figure out why (i.e. did you get up too late?).  I understand some things are out of our control, like traffic and the flow of public transport, but these are things you can figure out.  Listen to the traffic report, check that train lines are running properly, and work it out from there.  Most importantly, you should be planning to get there about 15 minutes before you actually need to be there, this way you have some room to breath in case of disaster.

What’s worse than people that arrive late to class or work, is those that arrive late to any and every dinner/hang out/movie etc, leaving whoever they happen to be meeting standing around twiddling their thumbs.  Or these days pretending to do something really important/interesting on their phone while standing on the street corner like a two dollar hooker (I guess that only applies to chicks)  This is one of the reasons I carry a book almost everywhere I go. I’d actually really like to have the mentality of someone with a late-itude for a day or so, because I imagine that their lives must be pretty freakin’ relaxing.  On the very few occasions where I found myself running late, it stressed me out beyond measure, but I can’t actually recall a time where I was late and it was my own fault.  Even when I try to be late, I fail.  Sometimes when I know I’m meeting up with a chronically late person I will attempt to be late myself.  However, this never works out.  I guess I imagine that I walk a lot slower that I actually do, I don’t know, but I always seem to arrive at least five minutes early anyway.  In any event, it seems I am chronically early and happen to love a lot of people who are chronically late.  Because believe me if I didn’t love said late-ituders then I would stop associating with them asap. Bottom line: being late is like saying, “you’re not important/significant enough for me to keep you from waiting.” Work on it people.


July 22, 2010

No I don’t mean blacking out from excess drinking or indulgences of any other kind. I mean when the power goes out and you have to sit in the dark like a schmuck for, possibly, hours. I haven’t experienced too many of these lovely events in my lifetime, but, they suck each and every time. There are many factors that go into my hatred of blackouts; one of those being I’m pretty fond of electricity. It’s useful for all sorts of things, like television, lights, and keeping all your food from spoiling in that fancy ice box we call a fridge. Secondly, and most importantly, I am afraid of the dark. Or perhaps more correctly I am afraid of being in the dark; the concept of dark isn’t really scary. Anyway the point is, being in a dark room when I’m not sleeping (and even sometimes then) freaks me out, a lot. So when I’m sitting in a room with lots of windows watching a movie, like I was tonight for instance, and the lights go out, I get a little upset. Especially when the power fails at the pivotal moment when the stewartess joins the drunk idiotic rockstar in the plane bathroom for a go around. Talk about leaving you hanging. Plus, the power always goes out when you have plans, like writing a post for your poorly attended to blog. So I am sitting in the dark on my phone writing this post, which is not fun or easy, so please excuse any spelling mishaps until I can edit later on. Finally I have to add that the two major blackouts I have experienced were on long island, and Goddamn LIPA need ro get its shit together.