5/26/2010

Let me preface this by saying that I have slept 7 out of the past 48 hours, by choice.

Life surprises me in the best and worst ways; prior to Monday, the past two weeks involved me sinking into a deep state of depression, which reached its apex Sunday. I realized that good things didn't just happen, and it was childish of me to expect my life to suddenly improve without me putting forth any effort.

Monday, I began a new routine of waking up at 8:45am every day, despite my complete lack of obligations at present. Peculiar, especially for a girl who is accustomed to sleeping in until 2 and generally considered waking up at 11 as "getting up early". Instead of laying on my futon wearing last night's makeup and my bathrobe, I have been doing absolutely everything in my power to keep busy: applying to jobs, going on dates, running errands, and the like.

Tuesday, I became a lot closer with friends that live in my building, and have essentially spent the past 24 hours with them.

Wednesday: Woke up at 9:30, went to the park with Dylan, came home and made water balloons out of the condoms my mom sent me (a box of 40, which I received in December and remained unopened until this day). We then decided that we could bypass the obvious lubey hand situation by purchasing normal balloons. Spent another hour throwing water balloons out of my windows, which eventually developed into target practice (hitting windows, air conditioners, etc)... I have to admit my aim improved significantly. Given the 95 degree weather, the pissed off neighbors, and the huge puddles of water all over my apartment, we decided to take it outside. We carried two bags full of water balloons, and took turns throwing them at each other. Then walked around soaking wet, looking for more ways to douse ourselves.


Condom wrappers from condom balloons. Why my mother sent me so many is beyond me, especially considering I've been single for nearly 2 years.

Honestly, I have never had so much fun for 2 dollars in my entire life. I forgot how great it is to just do nothing. Suffice to say, all of our inner children got the better of us today.

On a more mature note, I received two different emails today. The first was from a clothing store I applied to, asking me to interview for my dream job (at the moment), which is obviously selling shoes. My good friend recommended me for an internship (THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU) with an artist who was commissioned to create a work in Times Sq. I looked at her work and absolutely loved it. The internship would totally round out my resume, in addition to making my summer all the more enjoyable.

The artist I would be interning for is named Molly Dilworth. I really like her work.

I told myself I would have an amazing summer. And hopefully, if all goes well this week, I am off to a great start.

currently ordering tickets to comic con and re-reading black hole for the thousandth time, going to desert island tomorrow to spend what little money i have, and probably sleeping forever. also, every time i go out i get drinks spilled all over me and eat mcdonald's. i think i'm never going out in public again. is it okay if i just don't leave my apartment?

who wants to be my date to NYC comic con?

french boys

I always love a pretty face. Louis Garrel is the prettiest of them all. I love Parisian men for their casual arrogance, their poise, and their romantic sensibilities. Also, something about the French language makes your lips purse, which obviously is super sexy. I think its pronouncing all the O's. My lips purse, as do Monsieur Garrel's, so I think our babies would have nice little pursed lips as well. Ah, mon dieu.

writing

I've felt pretty articulate lately. I'll write really good sentences, then I can never finish them.

planets
we planets in orbit, drift in and out of chaos,
pushed by gravity to be pulled by our fatalism.
we sway and spin until our celestial bodies supernova.
and yet the entropy continues...
we are born of our combustion, our ash, our glow.

words
you eat my words until you're fat with their meaning.
their recipe: phonics, syntax... but this is all semantics.

get skinny, get famous, get married;
get pregnant, get old, get buried.

4/13/10

I've always blogged about what I like, never the things that happen in my life. I think I need an outlet, and I'm pretty sure my life has become interesting enough to blog about. So here's my fifth shot at blogging.



I moved into my new place. It's in this factory turned loft building three blocks from my school in Brooklyn. The overwhelming majority of my friends live here. It's like a dorm, but with 17 foot ceilings and huge windows. My room overlooks the street (optimal for spying). I am currently still in the process of getting things together. My roommate is a nutcase and I love him.

I also got my grades back. All high B's or A's. I mean, do these good grades justify partying my ass off all summer?

I'm not sure what I want, all I know is, I'm sick of worrying so much. I need to find ways to get out of my head. I want some sort of menial retail job, one with really overqualified employees, preferably freshly out of college. I need to stop caring, stop thinking, let go, and just roll with it.

I don't know how I got to be such an anxious person, maybe smoking for the past five days (alcohol is much more my thing) is getting to me. I don't want this summer to be a repeat of the last summer...

Lately I'm also coming to recognize things about myself that I really love. I love that I can have a conversation now and REALLY listen to the other person (never really was able to do that when I was younger). I love how strong I am... my ability to control my emotions so that I can still think rationally. I love my independence, although it comes at a price. I also have a sense of humor and an optimism that most people don't have in this city. It's a nice change from constantly loathing yourself.

I'd make more of an effort at blogging but frankly I just don't care.