How Old Am I?

I can't believe my blog name is a line from Kris Kross. Yesterday TeenyTinyTeacher said she wants to write a blog, which reminded me that I once had one. Sometimes this was my diary and sometimes this was my punching bag and sometimes my bff.

"Where Did You Go" by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones just came on the radio.
Throwback!

Currently reading: "Your Inner Fish" by Neil Shubin.

The Safer Sex Page

The Safer Sex Page

Go scientists! It really is like a baggie.

My Mister

I cannot find my Mister Kitty. Please scour the found ads and West Philly for him. It was really really cold out last night, I am afraid that he is dead.

It's all your FAULT

I can't help but look back on some people who have passed through my life and think, "If only you hadn't done that...."
I can be so self centered, but at least I know this. Why do people do things that fuck up MY life? Why did that bitch date him for one week and move on? Why did s/he lie? Why did s/he stop caring? Why why why?

Pool pool pool.

I don't not say things for a reason. I'm not joking.

Teeny Weenies

Awwww that's so embarrasing!

Um.

I just heard my upstairs neighbor have loud sex.
To be fair, she was the loud one, her boyfriend was only represented with constant thumps.

Whoopi has no eyebrows

Why do I cry every time I watch ER?

I LOVE IT.

I am so ready to finish this semester. I know I have 3 major projects due next week and I'm working Friday, Saturday, Sunday, but I think I work so much better when under pressure!

God I hope that's true.

Free to Indulge

I remember thinking, "I'm not safe in this car." But I also didn't want to go inside. The car was warm and the radio was playing. Outside was cold, dark, scary, lonely.
I sat at the corner of Baring Street, mad that he left me out there.
I was more mad that we were there at all.
I was more mad that I couldn't change this situation.

The street lights were tall, making circles on the sidewalks, with darkness in between and all around.
He came running outside to the window and told me to turn off the car and come inside.
I turned off the car,
I locked the car,
I walked with him in my pajamas,
I went inside.

The door was dirty. Inside was dirty and dark. Piles of broken furniture lined the living room walls. The carpet looked old. Everything was broken and horrible. I walked up the stairs, gripping his hand, hating this place.
I followed him past a door with shards of wood falling from the frame. Not stopping, I asked what was in there.
Who lived in that room?
A pitbull.
The pitbull was high.
The pitbull broke the door.

We walked to another room. There were two gius watchinmg a movie sitting on the floor in the dark. A fishtank glowed across the room, dingy and dry.
There was no where to sit. I was afraid to touch the floor or lean on the walls, stained and streaked with violence and dogs and drugs. The man smelled. He wore a big shirt to cover his big belly. It was dark, he was dark. I didn't want to see him, hear him or smell him.

Blackout

I can't believe how I just forgot things on Sunday. I forgot that I started crying on the 21 on the way home from downtown, wearing my super boots and feeling sorry for myself. I forgot that I called the Fridge and he was drunk and stupid, my least favorite combo. I forgot that I sat on the cushion-less couch in the cold, pawing at Mister until cold was too cold. Later, I forgot that I had been face-attacked (molested doesn't sound right).

French Toast

It feels nice to have a set date.

Emipre Diner.
Sunday mornings.
Frandy (aka Fran and Sandy).

We want Nikki and Anthony to come too and share with us:

THE
BEST
FRENCH
TOAST
EVER.

Running Low

I want to stay home and watch tv.
Lidia is making a balsamic glazed turkey.
I don't want to go out drinking, I don't want to do much.
I said already, "I can't believe this is happening again."
I didn't mean to step into the same shoes.
My abs said no yesterday.

Someone wrote to me the other day that I am "NOT A SOCIAL WORKER."
To which I replied, "I am not a social worker, you are right about that."
Thinking about it now, of course I actually am. I had such a hard time deciding between education and social work because they are so intertwined. The role I choose is both.

Currently listening to:
Polyphonic Spree Lithium
Flaming Lips Waiting for a Superman

Radiator Love

Winter has come.
Who will keep me warm?


My boyfriend.

bloggy

School has made me so tired. I want to write all the time. Rather, I want to blog all the time. I want to get things off of my chest, I want to remember, I want people to know, I want to make footprints.

I end up writing a lot in my fieldwork notes, my class notes, my blackboard posts, and telling Jamie. This is something that I wouldn't share in any of those fora.

Last night's dream:
This was definitely a dream where I was resolving a current issue in my unconscious. I start out in a city, which I guess is either Philadelphia or New York. I am somewhere familiar where there are many African men. One of them is a cabbie, and we know eachother by face. He leaves and I am there with 2 friends, deciding whether I should walk to the next corner, which would be 3rd, or walk another block to 4th before I catch either a bus or a cab to where I need to go. I decide to start walking towards 4th and call for a cab to meet me there. I call the African cabbie that I know by face, but he doesn't recognize my voice as I ask him to pick me up at 4th street in 5 minutes. I am suddenly unsure that I want him to pick me up so I tell him I will call him back. I stop and realizde that I am in front of the hotel where I am supposed to go. Dad and I were going to an award dinner for girls at school or something just for women. It was in a hotel, and I went inside early. In the entranceway there is a split staircase leading to the second floor where I know the dinner is. There is an old man staring at me in the lobby, but I do not make eye contact.
Inside the room, people are still setting up. I see 2 tables with nametags, and spot mine quickly, though there is more than one de la Torre and more than one name with de la. I go to the back room where there are illegal immigrants washing dishes for the event, because they are still setting the tables. My boyfriend is there, but it is actually my friend's boyfriend, but he is mine in the dream. The kitchen manager puts him to work, which upsets me. I take him by the hand and we go upstairs to what is my house, where my dad is getting ready for this event. He is using the bathroom, and boyfriend and I decide to make out on my parent's bed with the tv on. My dad walks by and we stop. We sit and then Dad is ready to go. We go downstairs, find seats, and I sit next to my boyfriend as my Dad goes off to do something. For some reason, we leave the room again, I think to go to the dishwashing room. When we return, the whole event is over, everyone has eaten and left, and no one can tell me who won what awards. I go outside to find my Dad or to leave. It is sunny and I am in a parking lot with sneakers lined up in two double rows of pairs of shoes, and people are looking for their shoes. I am looking for my shoes, and I think they are grey and pink sneakers. Once I find them, I know that I can leave. Johnsworth is there.
Wake up.

oopsie

Last night in class I was telling my group about my grandparents' plan to find Uncle Mo a wife in Taiwan. We had a good laugh about arranged marriage, and then one student asked me if my Uncle is still available (so we could arrange marriage with another student in my class). Ha ha. I almost said, no he's dead, but I held my tongue and said instead, "I have an aunt now."

Short Updates

We had a talk.
Everything is good.
Talking makes me high.

I have reading.
I am not watching tv.
Listening to "Blizzard of '77."

I have a secret.
Of course I'll tell you.
My happy is smushing my angry.

Mister is back.
Mom made him fatter.
He is my most consistant boyfriend.

oh man

I can't help but see how this is going to end, and I know that it has just started, but this is me knowing too much.

I've already had this discussion -- how I need to be with someone of passion. I know I tease Nikki a lot about her hate/love voice, but I really do appreciate how she takes a stand on things. She hates and loves. Feelings. Extreme feelings.

He is very nice. I am bad at finding the nice ones, but I have found one. He just seems a little lukewarm about me and everything else in the world. I want to see what it's like when he's really upset, really happy, really something. I won't be able to be nice and calm like I am right now for long... I am totally due for a freak out.

Last night would have been optimal for a freak out because I was telling the girls about something that had previously made me freak out. Completely even-toned. Not me. That just means that something is simmering and getting ready to boil over next time.

We'll see.

couch

yesterday sandy rivers saw a homeless woman sleeping on the porch couch. she slept there till 10. i was asleep in my bed until 2. i went out tonight to good dog, because mcglinchys was closed for labor day. nick was there, he has the flu. we watched south park with the subtitles on. i met kevin for beers and we watched jay kill at pool. when i got home,
the homeless lady
was sleeping
on the couch
again.
i woke her up and made her leave. she almost scoffed at me, as if this weren't really my house.
pissed off, i took all of the pillows off of the couch and febreezed them in the living room. i love the fucking porch couch, but now i have to sell the fucker. this sucks.
now i'm watching jose gonzales on leno. love.
sometimes when i'm at a concert, i imagine that i'm watching stefan playing again. things were fucked up when he left, but i always remember him fondly.
admiral byrd.

that wasn't enough

i am so angry in some ways. so angry i haven't been back to blog.

i am moving this week. painting the house last week and this week. sometimes i wish i could hold in some things, forget other things. it's just not me. i am so so upset. i am so mad.

but in other places, i am really happy. so this mad stuff isn't holding me back. some things are new and exciting, and i feel change and change is good right now. i could fall of the earth right now and be ok.

so

angry
lazy
manly
gross
sad
eager
ready
vengeful
full
excited
bitter

and, according to aaron, "cock hungry"

Simpson Wisdom

Homer: No wonder she hates me! I never even noticed she existed....

Marge: Homer, if you want to make it up to her, just spend some time with her [Lisa].