Sunday, May 31, 2009

Family dialogue over the past 3 days. I love having house mates. I have friends at my disposal 24 hours a day.

11:22:15 PM Kim Ha: girls girls girls
11:22:24 PM Paul Evans: they're driving me fucking crazy Kim.
11:22:37 PM Paul Evans: and I'm typing away down here in my room, far away from the center of the madness

9:36:32 AM Carol: kim
9:36:33 AM Carol: kim
9:36:34 AM Carol: kim
9:36:36 AM Carol: dove satia
9:36:38 AM Carol: stai
9:36:42 AM Carol: and when does asia ooen
9:36:44 AM Carol: open
9:36:57 AM Carol: and why is there a sugar free redbull on my bedside table

1:55:24 PM Carol Forehand: who is malta

11:18:17 AM Leigh Raskin: shit ijust woke up
11:27:03 AM Leigh Raskin: kimmmm

11:19:50 AM ilk ghavami: kim chi !
12:02:50 PM Kim Ha: yea
12:27:23 PM ilk ghavami: hi
12:27:34 PM ilk ghavami: just wanted to see where you were , no biggie

12:06:42 PM Kim Ha: what is ur location paul
12:07:00 PM Paul Evans: vie dei Michelozzi 2
12:08:06 PM Paul Evans: perche?

11:28:40 PM Paul Evans: yeh, i'm pretty sure that they were boning.

11:46:26 PM Paul Evans: let me in
11:46:29 PM Paul Evans: please
11:50:13 PM Paul Evans: let me in, i am locked out
11:50:15 PM Paul Evans: 1150
11:54:44 PM Kim Ha: SHIT

11:11:16 AM Matt: i peed in a bottle last night

4:06:06 AM Caitlin: omg i AM fucking crazy
4:06:11 AM Caitlin: i will explain later

8:54:58 PM Matt: if i were masturbating it would not take an hour
8:55:04 PM Matt: thats just weird

12:53:32 PM Leigh Raskin: so like you saw his peedo for real

5:27:37 AM Kim Ha: why the eff are u awake
5:27:46 AM Leigh Raskin: i could ask you the same

10:47:38 PM Leigh Raskin: i love us. i'm going to miss the hell out of this place.
So as of late, it's come to my attention that there are a number of American men who travel or study abroad and claim they don't have girlfriends. But then, upon seeing their facebook, or learning in other ways, hey they do have a girlfriend! Dood, that's just sketch. Another reason why my faith in the male population sucks.

(Though all of this probably applies to females as well.)

But anyway, why are you with someone if you're still in the avid pursuit of fucking other girls? Because if it happens abroad it doesn't really count as cheating. Because breaking up with them would just be too complicated. Because you're committed to them in the long-term but for now you just wanna have fun, so why break up a good thing, when what they'll never know won't hurt them.
AC Milan v Fiorentina

Friday, May 29, 2009

I never would've thought that one of my last memories of James Madison University, the institution that I fell so hard for as an undergraduate student, would fuck me over so bad today.

"Confusion" and "Not an ideal situation" severely undermines our situation. Not only that, but it ultimately devalues our own worth, our own ability to understand the mistakes that the JMU Office of Financial Aid has made. Mistakes, which we will incur the repercussions of. Mistakes that the Office of Financial Aid will never feel any repercussions for. Nor have they bothered to issue us any sort of apology.

What kind of world are we living in, when the single institution, an educational institution that we should be able to trust, doesn't really seem to give a fuck about us? What then? What then.

I'm severely disappointed today. In this university that once meant so much to me, that I once would have defended it under the pure fact that it brought me here today.

Between me and you

I ran away to Italy and it was the best thing I ever did.

An entire life created over the course of our year here, and what now? Most of us still don't have a damn clue, but then if we did, we probably never would've made it here to begin with, so hey, a toast, to making something out of nothing, to having friends at your disposal any hour, any time, any day, to constant entertainment, and even then, consistent boredom

to not knowing exactly what we're trying to do with the rest of our lives, to running away, to running here, to meeting you, to knowing you, to our palazzo, to the tv room, to rando kitchen conversations, to trash and piled dishes, to food thieves, to our crazy italian witch teacher sara, to castagna, to chiara, to quarters, to joshua tree, to food lion, to kebab, to the arno, to river rats, to miniature dogs and peeing in the streets, to weekends away, to endless train rides, and oh, to this all feeling like so long ago, yet as if it were all yesterday, to the palazzo plague, to sweltering hot summer days, to italiano, to birra moretti, to emo status wars, to sparring, to corner panino, to fiesole, corner panino, to the price of everything edible at the eui, to simulations, all nighter dgs, to professors dancing and singing in the middle of the street, to avid liver damage, to tijuana, to all the bullshit that is, to this fucking beautiful city, to bongos in Santo Spirito, to singing hobos and crackheads, to floor pizza, toilet tissue dispensers, 6 a.m. construction, throw up, 80's night, jager bombs, to speakers and professors who've never made any sense, to the gustas, to cappuccinos, to piazzale michelangelo, palazzo vecchio, piazza della repubblica, to deoderantless europeans, american breakfast, craving mexican, yelling at randos in the middle of intoxicated nights, to space, to Turkey, to civil and not so civil 'conversations', to frizzante, casalinga, yellow, central park, asia, the tranny park, to things disappearing into space, to the agony of morning afters, to photographs capturing every moment we never wanted to remember, to trying not to regurgitate in class or on Roma, to regurgitating in Roma and Ireland, to cara's facebook status novel, our greatest achievement on the eve of procrastination, to the Damn Cat, to the men of Italia, Albania, Lebanon, England, America, to bagged wine, to bag noodle, to our vending machine, ikea, cracktana, food babies, not killing each other, ricchi, gelato, to pisa, fiddler's, buses, boats, trains, planes, snowstorms in our fair London, the exchange rate, to vafanculo, to food babies, digressing, the vegetail people, market day, bus strikes, meepmeep, gg, and alex, to magi, cirque du soleil, to watching the entire 10 seasons of Friends and countless hours of dvds on top, late night political debates and civil arguments even in our intoxicated states, to the european union and to Firenze.

We've almost made it, no one's had a baby yet.

Oh, and I still think MTV should've paid to tape our life this past year. We would have so much money by now, sigh.

Thursday, May 28, 2009


Terro sent me this today saying, "I can see you doing this in the future."
And as I was listening to it, I completely agree.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Mon Coeur

If you had asked me 8 months ago how I felt about this city, I would've replied, I'm not in love with it, convenience is not in the Italian vocabulary, there's dog poop everywhere, and the bongo players in the square play until all hours of the night, I'm not ready for graduate school, I don't know what I'm doing here, it doesn't feel like home, I don't know these people, I don't know if I will ever care about these people, it was never love at first sight.

And then, somewhere along the way, I accidentally fell in love with this city. And I'm so fucking thankful that Firenze, invaded by thousands of American students is still so Italian. I adore walking out of the palazzo and taking 30 steps to corner panino or gusta pizza or for a one euro cappuccino. After 9 months these photographs of these buildings have somehow gained weight in my life. They're not just photos of random pretty buildings I took on vacation, that I'll never look at again. Which btw, tourists do far too often around here.

They are of this city I adore in it's entirety. If it had been up to me, I never would've chosen Italy because it always made me uncomfortable, the idea of living in a country where I couldn't understand the language. And now I'm glad I never had a choice in the matter.

A view of Palazzo Vecchio, the Pitti Palace in my backyard, Santo Spirito, my home and Piazza della Repubblica.

Santa Croce home to the blessed international market festival where we spent the day devouring everything edible that was non-Italian, and on the way there where we discovered the Lion's Fountain, Kikuya, American breakfast, Tijuana, Red Garter, the dollar store, serafina gelateria, Yellow, and the best kebab's in Firenze

San Lorenzo looks really cute in miniature doesn't it? And Piazza della Repubblica, we walk through it almost every single day, this beautiful piazza, perhaps my favorite in Firenze, and it's simply on the way home

Palazzo Vecchio in Piazza della Signoria was the site of our first pub crawl, our EU simulation, home to the fake David, and where we knew before we got a grasp of the city that if we ended up there in the middle of intoxicated nights that we were close to home.
It's been done. I will be leaving this fair city on June 29 at 7:20 am. Flying Delta. A round trip ticket at the price of $618.63, I will be returning home.

Can we really have it all?

My heart hurts today.

And it looks like it may be rain.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Rock n Roll reminds me of summers, summers since '84, summers since before I came to be, summers I fell in love with, summers I have long since forgotten, summers when I missed you, summers when I lived and felt what I believed was real. Last summer I spent night after night on the phone with you, ending with I miss you, and texts of more than subtle flirting, and I believed I felt it all, I believed he could've been it simply because I wanted it to be so, simply because I was obsessed with the idea that it all could be real.

And lately I've been wondering how I can so easily get swept up in this world of belief, this world of ideas that I put so much weight on. I admire your writing, and you'd said in mid-sentence, oh so carelessly "by the way, you're a good writer," and I paused. Months ago, we'd met and I made the decision that I wanted to know you, that I wanted to actually be your friend. In that oh so simple way you can be sometimes. The decision to put the people who you hope will matter simply because I liked the way you wrote, I liked the way you thought. And that doesn't happen often. And this was all an idea, an idea that's still heavy, and it's all so bizarre, how much weight I put on wanting to know someone simply because their writing makes me imagine the person they could be, the person they may be whether or not that equates to the reality.

And this scares me, this weight I put on simply the idea of things.

While watching another slew of films in our tv room last night, we were listing off our favorite Disney movies. Since my aunt gave Cinderella to me on my 5th birthday, it's been my favorite. As an adult, my favorite movie is now Pretty Woman. Says something about my view on love and men, doesn't it? well fuck, another cliche.

On another note. Two movies I used to watch incessantly as a child because my parents had recorded them off the tv onto video for me were Alice and Wonderland and The Sword and the Stone. I never liked them too much as a kid, but since my videotape collection was small, I would watch them a lot. It recently occurred to me they may actually explain a bit of my personality as an adult.

9 months past, where I've been

Sunday, May 24, 2009

"One of these days we need to catch up."

Thursday, May 21, 2009

I'm twenty-four, and I've probably never been more sure and unsure of what I wanted to do with the 'rest of my life'. We were in Gusta Pizza today, waiting half an hour for our pizza and talking to the father of one of my old professors. He asked us what we were doing after this program was over, and they replied, work probably, they were done with school, for now. And I declined to answer. Cause I was thinking, cause I know, I'm sick with school. I think I've reached my capacity, my ability to absorb information, dealing with professors and papers and useless classes that may never amount to anything. I want the rest of my life to start, now.

I mean, what is the rest of my life anyway? Aren't I living it now? And I'm making this commitment to another year, and I'm not sure it's right, but I'm doing it anyway. Why? Because I'm scared? I hope not. But that may just be the truth.

As you may envy me, I envy you.
I turned on itunes. Scrolled and stopped on smashmouth. It reminds me of Shrek and it makes me happy. And I just wondered if my fake life is more entertaining than my real one.

Steven asked me for songs for some mix cd he's making for some girl he's probably entertaining. And I just realized, I haven't made a mixed cd in a very long time. And no one asks me that question anymore, and I think it just made me miss mixed cds. Back when people listened to all 18 tracks because that's all there was instead of spending most of the car ride scrolling and skipping and never actually listening to entire songs. Have we become so impatient?

I was watching the Sandlot this evening in our tv room. And I hope if I ever have kids that they play outside with other kids. I'm going to make them. But this will also have to include the cooperation of other parents in not allowing their kids to stay inside and muddle in obesity on the computer all day. Maybe I'll start my own community to ensure all this works out.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

When I get cranky, I generally don't give a fuck about anyone. I should make a t-shirt specifically for these moments with the disclaimer: will be a total bitch, ignore me.

Speaking of, I got really intoxicated last Thursday and tried to go to bed at 3 a.m. We'd been playing quarters in the tv room all night. I have to say, that's definitely one of my favorite past times. But anyway, it was 3 a.m. and I was tired and these stupid American tourist students were talking/yelling really loudly outside, under my window. These three guys were talking about some girls. It was as if I was back in college, back when couples would fight in the middle of the night in the parking lot of Ashby and I would just listen, it was pure entertainment. Most of the time, the guys were the girls, crying and everything. It was bizarre. But anyway, in a moment of intoxication, I opened my window and proceeded to yell obsence things to them. The only bit I'm sure of is "shut the fuck up" but I'm sure other unnecessary things ensued. I've never done that before. I must've been really mad. But anyway, I closed the window and they of course yelled back, attacking my ethnicity. I'm sure it was a mild surprise to have some little asian girl in Italy yell in perfect english at 3 a.m. from her bedroom window in Santo Spirito. But anyway, they really pissed me off, attacking my ethnicity, I've never had anyone do that to me before. I was really going to flip a b. But I calmed down, after I went upstairs to look out the tv room window. Leigh even offered to beat someone up for me. Anyway, a few minutes later, we saw some girls pissed off at some guys for being stupid all night, and the one girl said something along the lines of "forget them, let's just go back to the hostel". So I hope those guys got lost all night and had to sleep by the Arno.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Lofty ideas. There are a lot of decisions I've made, things that I've said, ways I've made others feel, that I'm not terribly proud of. And we hardly ever learn from our mistakes, do we?

As I passed through cities, from airport to airport to bus to train to taxi to boat. These silly little stamps painted throughout my passport as I passed from one customs to another actually meant something to me. I was going to keep it after it expired in 2013, the ten year mark. I was going to lie and tell them I'd lost it, I guess that's what I get for premeditating a lie to the US Government.

London, Quebec, Edinburgh, Madrid, Barcelona, Girona, Reus, Beograd, Athens, Santorini, Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane, Fraser Island, the Whitsundays, Mexico, Frankfurt, Firenze, Pisa, Roma, Venezia, Vienna, Praha, Dublin, Brussels, Paris, Amsterdam, Belfast, Derry, Brighton, Dubai, Bahrain

Cities I often passed through, cities I called home, cities I adored, cities that reminded me why I still believe in love, cities that made me terribly homesick, cities of affairs, cities that taught me to stand on my own, cities that made me adore life, cities that reminded me of the weight of mere ideas, how heavy they can be, the difference between ideas and reality and how sometimes I forget to separate the two, I put too much weight on mere ideas, and then they don't transfer, or I don't put enough weight on what's simply real.
My purse was stolen while I was laying on a beach in Barcelona, Spain. By a sketch, dark skinned man in a hat smoking a cigarette. I had accidentally fallen asleep, and I woke up with a start because I felt something was wrong.

The police station was between two giant fountains in the middle of a large square, where just yesterday we'd seen men from various north African countries literally run through the street with their 'purse business' bundled up in a bag. In the middle of a clear beautiful hot Sunday afternoon, the kind that so often blanket my life as of late, I listed off the items that were in my bag. A canon camera $200, the purse 25 pounds, my atm card, my bracelet $20, 4 euros....and then he asked "pounds?" and I replied "Yes, I was in London" and that was when I realized just how lucky I have been.

He then said I'd forgotten to list the most important passport...the whole reason why I was making a police report. Isn't that bizarre? I couldn't sleep the night before. I laid in my bed, thinking about living my entire life on this endless string, never going anywhere, never succeeding as a writer. And in the middle of the night I wrote all these thoughts down on an envelope I had in my purse containing some postcards of miniature bathroom fixtures I'd bought. And then I knew, everything that was stolen was replaceable, the thing I'm really sad about were the stamps I had accumulated in my passport over the past few years. That's the one thing I would ask for back. But either way, I think maybe my shit was jacked because I was going through a mood, one of my moods where the world is almost too bleak to bear.

So here, I can't say thank you, but I could never take any of those items to my grave anyway. And I hope he gets kicked in the balls, but then I hope, I hope something happens, something good, so maybe he doesn't have to do this anymore. It probably won't, but hey, if anything at all.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Full time graduate classes have ended. I have 2 to 3 lectures a week, I intern for a newspaper, and I have a minor paper, and other mindless things to write before I leave Florence. Today, I´m in Barcelona for the weekend. This city I adore, yet I can´t remember the last time I felt this exhausted and stressed out about life. And then I´m stressed over stupid JMU financial aid which has failed to come in yet, when the semester started almost a month ago, I have credit card debt, and I have tuition to AU due in two months, of which money I will have to borrow from my parents, and this is really all too much right now. And for the first time since I left home last September, I am legitimatly homesick. Everything reminds me of it, and as much as I have loved this experience, and do love this experience, I need to go home. It´s time to go home. And I can´t believe at almost the end of this trail, I´m this stressed out about everything.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

"Lucky" Official Video With Colbie Caillat

Wednesday afternoon, I had the day off, and I'd been craving gnocchi since I saw someone eat it in the square Sunday during Market Day. So Leigh and I decided to go outside and see if the restaurant was open yet. It was only 4 PM, they weren't. This afternoon siesta crap really gets annoying when you're trying to eat something before 7 PM. So instead we went over to Friends Pub and had 2 drinks before our class lecture at 6 PM. I love random shit like this, when you can on no notice at all head over to the nearest pub and drink your frustrations away, or in some cases, just drink for the sake of happiness. This video was playing, and I knew where Jason Mraz was once upon a time, but I'd forgotten. We both recognized it, I thought it may have been Madrid or Prague. It didn't look like Madrid, but anyway. Turns out it was Prague. A city we both had encountered over the past few years. A city we had known personally for a time.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

"What we feel isn't important, it's actively unimportant, the only question is what we do. If people like you don't learn from what happened to people like me, then what the hell is the point of anything?"
I have a complex for unavailable men.

Monday, May 11, 2009

I napped from 3:30 to 5ish today and then from 8:00 to 11:30. I was hoping I would sleep until sunrise so then I wouldn't have to wait until morning to eat the bagel I've been thinking about.

I had a short conversation with him last week. He was running off to work, and we never talk anymore. And it's not a big deal. It's just weird. The conversation operated as if we were strangers. Ending with "later" but in the kind of way where neither really cares. I find it really odd now that, for over a year of my life, once upon a time, I used to be legitimately crazy about him. He used to be one of the male friendships I put in my top 5, and today I know next to nothing about him. And it's somehow okay.

I will never get used to events transpiring in this way.
It was past 3 AM and they were on skype. He was speaking, but she felt the need to type her responses instead. For some strange reason, she always preferred it that way. "You would," he'd said. "But it's okay, I think it's cute." Offhanded comments, as if he knew her. I believe in you. He said things like that often. As if their relationship was based on a past, a past where he knew her, a past where he understood her, a past filled with endless late night conversations over nothing. They'd met in a basement bar, near close, in a hostel in Vienna a few months back. He'd been trying to hit on her friend, offered the friend a shot of tequila, but somehow the friend got caught up in a shaggy haired aspiring film maker from LA instead. So, by accident, they got lost in conversation, and she decided he was all right. All right for the evening, entertaining enough.

She came home, with dreams of Paris. A city she never cared for, but he was studying there. It was never a coincidence, nothing ever really is. An aspiring architect. She equated the occupation to that of a writer. Creator of things, makers of something out of nothing versus most ordinary occupations, imitators, a life's work of regurgitation, money makers. Nothing with weight is ever a coincidence, and assigning weight is our choice. "When are you visiting Paris? You should come," he'd said. But she had changed her mind. She got scared. These ideas were always fun to toy with. To get lost in. It's funny how the state of intoxication allows people to dream and hope to live with reckless abandon, but in the light of the morning, we all retreat back into our ordinary shells, for fear, of everything. Their conversations operated with a sense of depth on the surface, but underneath it all, she knew she didn't feel it. She couldn't feel it.
"I think your writing style is quite sad but maintains such honesty that it doesn't read as pathetic."

It's almost ironic. It makes me laugh out loud, literally. I never say that unless it actually happens, never understood people that did. No, you can't laugh out loud inside. No.

I hate it when I take a nap and wake up feeling like rip van fucking winkle because things have happened while I was asleep. This is why I sometimes find sleep bothersome, because inevitably you miss out on things.

So I was thinking, aside from the fact that even while living among people, constantly surrounded by people, you can perhaps go by weeks at a time without any human touch. It's kind of a weird concept isn't it? People who didn't have a lot of friends, a lot of human connections used to make me sad because I hate seeing people lonely. But in a recent conversation with Caitlin, when she mentioned she didn't like being touched really, it actually made me think of when the last time I had physical human contact, beyond a handshake. or even that. You know? I mean, shit like this has got to effect you somehow, when you don't even really think of it because you're constantly surrounded by people. And we place so much emphasis sometimes on the extreme physical, sex and what not, that no one ever really talks about when the last time you hugged someone was or just slept next to someone. I think that's what I'm missing these days.

I was thinking living in the palazzo is kind of like the Lord of the Flies. If this program didn't end at the end of June, someone would probably end up dead on a stick. With my friends at home, even my closest ones, there are things about everyone that will bother me. That's normal, but it's just in this situation where we're constantly around each other, these little bothersome things that in ordinary life wouldn't matter so much, become more than they are, seem to matter more than they should, and it's just this snow ball effect where it seems to just consume. At this point, I really hope they don't ruin some of the more than decent foundations upon which they have been built. Because that would just be a waste. But we all have a choice in this matter, don't we?

Sunday, May 10, 2009



Dialogues between friends. Momentary ruminations. I always had a soft spot for frank candidness.

5:28 AM: move in with me
5:28 AM: it's mutually beneficial
5:28 AM: we would both have a blast!

3:02:32 AM: there is alot of cool stuff i wanna show you
3:02:56 AM: like little bars and restaurants
3:03:11 AM: wanna go to the beach
3:03:18 AM: va beach is only 1hr and 30 minutes away
3:03:32 AM: just me and you
3:03:44 AM: lets do that for a weekend
3:06:02 AM: we should make a date
3:06:25 AM: i usually dont plan ahead
3:06:30 AM: but i kinda want to for this
3:07:47 AM: im marking it on my icalender
3:08:04 AM: "romantic getaway

3:08:16 AM Kim Ha: ew
3:08:18 AM Kim Ha: don't make me puke
3:08:21 AM Kim Ha: dont call it that
3:08:22 AM Kim Ha: hahah

3:08:25 AM: HAHAHA
3:08:49 AM: "lovers retreat"

3:08:56 AM Kim Ha: ew.
3:08:57 AM Kim Ha: no

Saturday, May 9, 2009

I got you for another year.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Real life decisions.

This is one of those nights when I miss everyone and everything that was, that is, that could have been.

And to be honest, I have no idea why I'm going to American next year. Aside from not wanting to find a job, not wanting to face disappointment, not wanting to put out the effort. I can't give you one real reason.
You know what kind of amazes me? People who can write complete fantasy novels well.

Life as I know it.

I have trouble writing here sometimes because it doesn't feel so personal. Sometimes I spend more time worrying about the lay out, the font size, the main photograph, then I do about the diction and syntax.

Sometimes I miss when it was just the spiral notebook with pasted photographs, the bic pen. Ink to paper. The only issue I had then was how the specific pen felt on the specific paper. At the cost of less than $0.50 at Walmart. And that was all I needed.

Now I'm attached to Mac and the Internet like I'm a coke addict.
I was flipping through photographs last night on facebook. And I was surprised at how big he's gotten. He's almost two now I guess. For some reason I thought he was still younger. And then I just started to feel old, and you'd said.

"yeah i still remember running around your house as lil girls.. where has the time gone?"

And I remember those days as if they were yesterday, and I remember how my parents, particularly my mom and your mom would sit at the kitchen table and talk as we'd run around the house. I remember they'd always say things like, they grow up so fast don't they.


Thursday, May 7, 2009

so when did we become strangers?

and when did he decide he knew me at all?

and how come, this may all be just okay.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

I became obsessed with Maroon 5 in April of 2003, after I got back from Spring break senior year of high school. Christine was obsessed so she burned me a copy of their CD and made me give them a second try. So I listened to "She Will Be Loved" and had the CD on repeat for months, years after.

We've taken over the TV room in light of the semi-work we have to do the rest of the year. Cait, Leigh, Ilk, Carol and I mostly with Paul coming in from time to time when he eats and Matt from time to time to make random comments from the doorway.

We started The Wrestler again and The Reader & Marisa Tomei is hot, especially for a 40 year old. The annoying thing is, we've watched parts of these movies and they're so effing good, but they're on a usb and connected to our dvd player and part way through they started skipping and crap, so we gave up. Now I have to figure out how to finish all these movies I've half started.

Marvin (the penis) is growing.

What has my life come to these days?

I was on skype with my mom today, and she was telling me about my parents' trip to Vietnam and how proud my dad was of me. He talks a lot, I think he's a good bullshitter, and he's a proud man. He was telling the family about me, about how smart I was, about everything I was doing, and he exaggerated a lot. But mostly, it made me want to cry. Because this man that I've known and loved for most of my life, my dad, often makes me wish I never had the memories of another father. Makes me wish it was all a dream I somehow confused with truth. He's the complete opposite of my mother. She's always been the calculative one, paranoid, controlling, slightly uptight. My father though is often unselfishly kind to others, generous especially with money, and a hardworker. He'd always say, when he got older, all he needed was some friends, some beer, a pool table and his guitar.

I always hoped some of these things had rubbed off on me.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Currently the most eventful thing about my life is probably the mushy penis we have growing in a too large pot of water in the kitchen. He started out as about an inch long, but now he's a good 4 inches long and pretty decent girth. And it's only been 24 hours! Apparently he takes 72 hours to grow to full size. Will have before and after photographs later.

Today's movie listings

The Unbearable Lightness of Being
American Psycho
Wrestlers, which we started but stopped 15 minutes in because it was too depressing
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
The Interpreter

I should really add on the minor of film watching to my M.A.
How much is too much information these days? I'm really wondering because I mean, I know my blog is used at my own discretion. I've always written whatever the hell I wanted to write, which was often too much information for some. But a lot of people do that, I feel. It's easier because half the time you don't think anyone's ever going to read it anyway, and even if people do, you don't see their reactions. So it's kind of like having a space to confide in. But lately I find people who I'm merely acquainted with revealing semi to pretty much once upon a time personal information to me through the internet. Mostly of the facebook variety. Messages, chats. It's kind of weird. I mean I don't mind, it just surprises me that people, in entirely sober circumstances would tell me these details about their lovers or parents. As part of normal everyday conversation. Hmmm, so are we becoming a more open society? Or am I just easy to talk to? Or am I closer to these people than I had thought?

Gee Brain, what are we going to do tonight?
The same thing we do every night Pinky. Try to take over the world.

So a number of people I know lately have met people over Really weird huh? My friends who are my age, far from desperate are meeting significant others through an internet dating site. Oddly enough, my one friend, the girl he met, they went to the same undergrad, but never knew each other. So anyway, after he told me that, I decided to go see what it was about, and made a profile. But they asked too many questions, and I didn't have the patience. I half assed it and then upon looking at the selection of men they had, deleted my profile. I hope it's deleted anyway. Damn. I think I'm going to stick to real life for now.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Matt as he's mushing avocados with his hands for guacamole he sniffs his hands: "This smells like splooge"
well something to that effect, I forget his actual words
I responded, "Maybe it's your hands."

Though I didn't mean to be funny at all, but I got a point in our sparing game of life.

And I just heard Ilk throw up in the bathroom. Our walls are PAPER, PAPER I TELL YOU.

And I just had a conversation with a dood born in 1989. We had an 80's party tonight. I remember the 80's. He was a pea. But he's 20. Hmm, guess it just reflects how old I'm really getting.

And speaking of. Young.

I had this uploaded and then I kept looking at it because I realized how young I looked. This was taken today though, at twenty-four years, I look like I could be in High School.

And Steven confirmed my suspicions.

myfavwpn: man
i cant look at this picture anymore
i feel like a perv
xing out right now

Anyway, tonight was one of the most awkward nights I've had in a long long time. But hey, life, can't win, can't lose.

xoxo _people have been signing shit like that to me a lot lately_