the five stripes.

Alright, so yesterday, Thanksgiving, I was feeling sorry for myself because of the fact that I couldn't be with my family. But in truth, I was with family for a few hours...that family being Katherine, Al, and Katherine's family. They've been good to me for the past four years, and I'm thankful for that, because if I didn't have them to go to, then I really would have nothing. And I did get to speak to Billie, Roxanne and my parents. Liz was sleeping, but she knows I love her.
And I was also angry at the fact that I had to go into work today, but it was cool. Because if I didn't go in today, I would've most likely just been laid up in bed all day, feeling sorry for myself or some shit. Besides, I had a meeting about the K•Swiss project that I get to be involved with. So it's all good because portfolio-wise, that's a pretty impressive company name to have done work for.

At this very moment, there's a mouse wandering around my feet. The dude is walking around like he owns the place. I gotta buy some damn glue traps tomorrow.

warm hearts, cold hands.

Thanksgiving is one of those holidays that I used to enjoy. Now, it's kinda like any other day, except now I get depressed simply because of the fact that I don't get to hang out with my family. And you know, I may spend a few hours with Katherine's family in Jersey, and I'm thankful that they're like my foster home, but I always feel out of place, and I always end up feeling isolated. And I hate having to call my family, just to hear ourselves tell each other how much we miss one another.
I'd love to wallow in an entire bottle of whiskey tomorrow, and I'd kill to go shopping with Katherine on Friday, but I gotta go iShip on Friday. This is what I was asked on Tuesday, "...would you be interested in a full-time position after you're done with the internship?" Totally. Rad.

I knew I should've just left the skeletons where they fell. Don't mess with the voodoo. Don't touch it. Leave it alone. It's not worth it.

a lovely mane, indeed.

Today I had the best hair day in what seems like months. I love getting new shampoo...and I love it even more when it makes me have good hair days on days when I don't blow dry my hair. When I was living with Katherine, between the two of us, we had about 30 bottles of shampoo. No lie. Okay, for awhile there, we had a problem with buying shampoo. But sometimes, you just need new shampoo, because if one isn't working for you, then you don't continue using it...you just gotta get some more and find out what works. Right? Right.
Last nite, I was telling her how great my hair felt, so this morning, she went out and bought the shampoo and showered before work, and she then agreed that John Frieda is a genius.
Today was just a good day, simply because my hair looked stellar...and of course, I had to rock the female version of the emo combover, which surprisingly, makes me look more put together and sophisticated, rather than like emo groupie trash. It's probably because I was rocking that combover way before it became cool, way back when I had long hair, so yeah, I know how to not look like a fad.
And as of last Thursday, I believe I've officially lost 12.2 pounds. I was excited, because I could finally button that cranberry blazer that works so well with my skin and hair color. It's still a little tight, but whatever, I look totally rad in it.
Also, today rocked because Anthony from Machine handed each of us a handful of cash for working on the "sweat 'til you bleed" junk. So yeah, getting $35 in cash is sure to make me smile.

Tomorrow, it will be exactly 30 days until I have to be in New Orleans. Oh my god, I can't wait to go to Prejean's...best cajun restaurant in the entire state of Louisiana. And I can't wait to pound some Abita beer...mmm, Purple Haze. I've been catching my southern drawl come out in my speech lately...I must seriously be ready to get the fuck out of here.

the worst parking spot ever.

I can't believe it's already sunday nite. Where the hell did the weekend go? Days seem to go by so fast now. Drag.
My original purpose for going to hang out with Katherine and Alfred today was to go buy some new curtains and a bamboo blind for my windows. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. I was all psyched that I was going to get window treatments, and I'm in my car, setting up some music to jam out to, and I'm ready to go; had my car in drive, looked over my shoulder and, "what the fuck!?" I'm thinking to myself, "It didn't freeze last nite!...that's not fucking slush!" So I get out, and yeah, I was pissed: my back passenger side window in the cargo area was fucking spiderwebbedly cracked. So I got out, inspected that shit, and I was pissed. It looks like it was shot by a bb gun, because there's a tiny hole, and yeah, I touched it, and if I hit a pothole, that shit would've shattered everywhere. Thank god for safety glass. So I drove to Katherine's, and Al's gonna make some calls and find me a deal on glass, and he's gonna have it fixed...it's a great thing that he's in the car business.
So naturally, since I have to take care of that mess; no curtains were bought. We duct taped it up, and I left my car in Abington at their place. I'd rather not have a duct taped car in philly, cause then it'd be pretty obvious that my stereo could easily be stolen...not that I have a stereo that would be worth anything, but still.
What a drag. But at least we had a fun day. And at least I bought some new shampoo that makes my hair feel stellar.

conversation she makes with herself.

Now's about time I move on.
Metaphorically speaking?
It was all incredibly great.
I wouldn't have done anything differently.
Okay, that's a lie.
All I'm saying is that everything has been great.
I loved it all.
And yeah, I still miss it all.
Everything, and everyone changes.
We are constantly in motion, even when we're stationary.
Going against the movement is where I faulter.
Just keep going.
So no more doubts?
No more doubts.
Never regret?
It'll all come together in the end.
We'll see, right?

I miss Louisiana...home.
I'll see you soon.
I love you too.
Get some sleep.
Goodnite then.

(silence falls upon silence.)

...and send some hands.

I feel awful...not because I did anything wrong, but because I finally caught that sickness that's been in the air. My entire head, neck, shoulders and upper back feels like lead, and the tissue is jonesin' for some massage therapy. I had to call out of iShipping this morning, then I went back to bed, and then I woke up, and then I felt fine, and then I went outside, and then I bought cigarettes instead of cold medicine, and now I feel awful again.
Yeah, I know, I'm a dumbass: it's not like my throat will even allow smoke into my lungs...but I thought I was feeling fine when I bought them, like it was just some 24 hour bug I had going on. Yeah, I know, I'm a dumbass: I should've just got the 'Tussin.
I forgot how nice it is to sleep in the daytime. I'm sure after my time is served with the iShip, I'll be doing plenty of that for a few weeks?...hopefully not months.
So my heater stopped working again. Sucks. It was just fixed. I think that's why I had the worst sleep of my life last nite: cold air + sickly body = stiff lead girl.
I want a back rub soooo badly. I'd slit throats for some magic hands and oil. And someone to pop my back and re-align my spine would be greaaaaate, mkay? Any takers? C'mon. No? Yeah, screw you, too.

On a side note: I finished a painting last nite. It's done in my signature style: square canvas, simple monochromatic color palette, gouche, clean layout, odd subject...very graphic design-ish. Would anyone ever consider buying it? Probably not, unless they were nuts like most art critics and buyers are, but I'm sure it'd make for an interesting observation piece if someone were to ever visit and see it in my apartment.
Katherine said that she should be a baker, and that I should be a painter. Open a shop. Pasteries and paintings. She and Alfred would own the joint; I'd hang my shit, work for her and sell desserts, and occasionally earn a little pocket cash if someone was dumb-nuts enough to buy the art. We'd be great, too. Nice concept.
I think Ryan was right when he said that I was displaying bitterness during First Friday way back when we went. Yeah, I am bitter at the fact that I'm not showcasing my work...not that I have any, but if I did. I've always wanted to be an artist, in the traditional sense. I mean, I may be a graphic designer, but they come a dime a dozen, and only 2% of graphic designers have recognizeable names and work that can seriously be considered art.
Why would anyone want to be an artist? I don't know. I guess in my case, me not being able to ever really verbally say what I think, or feel, is why I choose a visual language, be it painting, design, or photography. Ask me about my art work: I wouldn't know what to say about it. Make your own interpretations. They say I'm a mystery. I say they're right. And I wish I could solve myself.

The offer still stands to be my masseur...or masseuse; I believe in equal opportunity.

seeing that familiar face.

When I woke up this morning, I had barely been up an hour, and I was downstairs checking my email as normal. Someone knocked on my door, and I'm thinking, "Dude, I'm not even dressed, much less dressed enough to answer the door...and I seriously hope it's not my landlord." After the second knock, I decide I'd better just answer it. It was Felicia! What a surprise, seeing as how no one other than Alison visits me, and she always lets me know when she's coming over.
So she had to go to Pearl to get some model building supplies, and she decided she stop by and see if I wanted to go to lunch. It was 10:45 when she showed up, so we went to breakfast. And then we went to Pearl, and I bought a couple of canvases so I could paint.
I came home, and cleaned and did laundry to avoid going to the bookstore to steal design ideas. I eventually went.
And I remembered that he was a handsome boy.

more than she needed.

So, Alison and I had a good day. We were going to go to King of Prussia so I could go to the Apple Store, but instead, we went to Microcenter in St. David's and hit up their Apple station. I love Microcenter like you wouldn't believe. My original intent was to buy an iTrip type dealy for my car, seeing as how both my cd player and tape deck are busted. And I can't not have decent music when I drive home to visit the parents. That's like a two day drive, and I'd surely go insane from listening to the FM.
Yeah, so I got this item that some random dude was recommending, and he just kept talking to me, and I'm all trying to back away, but he just kept talking, and Alison was totally avoiding the situation altogether, and it was just weird. And then I wanted to see about getting some of those little speakers for my laptop, but the sales guy said that I'd have to get all these other accessories just to hook them up, so in the end, I got the Apple SoundSticks II, with the sweeter than sweet subwoofer. Could I afford what I bought?...no, not really; in fact, not at all. But as Alison suggested, I'll just think of my purchases as an early christmas present for myself. And yeah, I might be a little late on paying my phone bill this month...and I most likely won't be buying anything for myself in quite the while.
Oh, we went and saw The Incredibles in Manayunk. That theatre is heinous, but it's always convienent when there's a diner less than twenty feet away...a diner that serves alcohol, no less, but today was no day for alcohol...I normally save that for the sabbath, if ever. The movie was so awesomely done, and they had a good cast of voices. I was sitting there trying to figure out where I heard one of the voices, and I eventually realized that it was Jason Lee...whom I've always thought was sexy, especially in Mallrats. Oh, and of course it's always better seeing the new Star Wars trailer on the big screen, rather than on a computer screen.

Ha, my neighbor's dog is fucking going nuts because of the subwoofer, but it's okay, cause I can't hear that little bastard barking over the music.

living like she's old.

I went to bed last nite at 8:30 pm. I was in the middle of watching Emeril Live but then I decided that his Thanksgiving dinner wasn't exactly that enthralling...any other episode, I would've watched the entire hour.
So I went to bed, and passed right out. I woke up, and when I looked at the clock, it was 4:20 am. Now, normally when that happens, I'll take it as a sign from Jerry Garcia and have a wake 'n bake session. But since I'm currently not getting stoned, I just layed in bed.
I got up at 5:30ish, just so I would stop thinking. I'd like to go back to bed, but I already got 8 hours of sleep, and I already had two cups of coffee. I'd better just go take a shower, cause I gotta move my car for street cleaning today, and I'm hanging out with Alison...and I wouldn't feel right if I stood her up for sleep because that's just bummy. Besides, she doesn't know this yet, but I'm dragging her to a bookstore so we can research some ideas for the iShip project that was given to me. I can't be mediocre, not for a real client...because if I am, then they'll do the design and I'll do the grudge work. And since they gave me this opportunity, I need to prove to myself that I got my degree for a reason. Plus, a real world portfolio piece would be sweet to boot.
I haven't been up this early in ages. I feel like I'm seventy years old: up at the ass crack of dawn.

cable bones.

cable_bones
Originally uploaded by cheersfortrout.

Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly blue, I go up to the roof of the Trin and lay on back in the cold nite air, and smoke cigarettes. I always stare up at my neighbor's cable apparatus, the one that Tonie swears he can easily rig to my television, and I just...stare at it. It reminds me of fish bones. And sometimes, I like to pretend that if my life were within a futuristic sci-fi novel, that these bones would signify the death of the 21st century.

The nite of the eclipse was a good nite to feel blue, and to pretend I was in a Kurt Vonnegut book.

the holly days.

Retraction: Patrick will not be accompanying Billie to Luzianna. Sweet...he made me cry back in May, and I'm glad to know that he won't be making me feel like an asshole for a second time.

Today was crazy busy. And I am crazy tired.

she's been neglecting, and neglected.

I don't really hang out at my computer much these days, seeing as how I hang out in front of one at Machine all day. I should be getting paid soon, tomorrow most likely. It was going to be today, but that didn't happen. It's cool, I'm not exactly desparate for a paycheck. Well, I am, but it's all going to go toward my damn Progressive and/or Verizon bill anyway. Sometimes I wonder if having car insurance, a home phone and dsl is worth it...okay, who am I kidding?

Yesterday was Billie's twenty-fourth birthday. Of course, I didn't get her anything, but at least I called on my lunch break, although she didn't answer due to her borderline obsession with going to the gym. It was the thought in the message that counted.

I actually just talked to Rusty about an hour ago on the phone. He was drunk and stoned as usual, but you know how it goes. So I told him about my xmas holiday plans of driving to Louisiana, and how I have to go to New Orleans to pick Billie up at the airport before we both head to the homestead. I, of course, have to stop and see Rusty in Alabama, and he's actually going to go home to NoLa for a bit to stay with friends, so of course he's going to come with me to meet Billie. Here's the thing though: he and Billie haven't really spoken in about a year or so, due to the 'incident' that occured late last summer...I forgave him, but I'm not too sure if the rest of my family has. God, and plus Patrick is supposed to accompany her home, so I don't know how it'll pan out. Hopefully, everyone will just get over it, and themselves...and have a jolly ol' time over some Southern Comfort.
This xmas will be the first time in two years that my entire family will be together...there's only five of us, and no extended family, but still. It's actually going to be awkward for me, seeing as how both Liz and Billie will have their dudes in tow. And it sucks that the topic of me needing to find/have a dude will definitely come up at least 3 or 4 times, and one of those times being over christmas dinner. In fact, the last time I spoke to my mom on the phone about two weeks ago, she asked the dreaded, "You have a boyfriend yet?" It's the 'yet' that kills me. And as usual, I had to say, "uh, no." And that was that. I wonder what would change if I actually did say yes? Would she be relieved, or something? God, she wants grandchildren like mad. The three of us actually discussed who should get knocked up, just to shut her up about it. That's actually between Liz and Billie to figure out because I obviously don't qualify. They're both willing to have kids with their respected other halves, but they're also both pussies about the childbearing factor. Oh well, it's not my problem.

I can't wait to go home. I miss my family. And I miss my Ben dog; he's the only male that loves me and I can't wait to dance with him.

the photo replacement.

the no lip suggestion
Originally uploaded by cheersfortrout.

I was brushing my teeth, and when I looked up in the mirror, I thought my eyes looked weird. So I had to take a doofus, deer-in-headlights self portrait, to prove myself wrong.
I've decided that the no lip suggestion is perhaps the most overused facial expression signifying either indifference, or impressiveness.
Also, I've decided that this should've been the face I made for both my highschool and college yearbook photos.

the winter of our discontent.

I believe that was from Reality Bites. Anyway, I hate how strangers, particularly homeless guys, can tell that I'm not happy. "You say you're doing alright tonite, but your face is saying otherwise." Touché. When the homeless are telling you to cheer up and feel better, then you know you're fucked up.
Passerbys give me that look that seem to say, "Why'd you even stop to talk with them?" Well, gee, let me see: a.) I'm not as cold hearted as people think I am; b.) I'm too nice for my own good; and c.) they're still people, too.
And you know what, those two guys were right; I'm not happy. I may be thankful for everything that I have, or had, but on a day to day basis, I generally feel so alone, so empty, and so dead on the inside. And lately, I just can't hide that anymore; it's seeping out and infecting my exterior.
Nothing makes sense anymore. I'm so in love with the past. Everything seemed so clear, and so planned out, even though it wasn't.
Is this it? Is this how I'm supposed to continue with my life? Am I missing something? Am I supposed to find God now?
Just tell me how to make it better.

the nugeness.

It's funny how sometimes I can feel like such a has-been...I'm talking in terms of design. When I was in school, I knew I was good at whatever the fuck I was trying to accomplish. My problem was my modesty. Anything I did, it was just 'okay' to me. It takes alot of work for me to be proud of a piece, and even if I am convinced that I'm satisfied, I can always point out the most minute flaws; they laugh at me. All I need is one great idea. But when you need multiple great ideas, that's when the first great idea becomes the standard, and that's when the following ideas just seem like failures.
With that said, today I was working on creating these background spreads to be used in this press kit for some very lame artists, whom are making this comeback in 2005. So I do one spread, and it's totally rad, and it totally says what the whole project is trying to graphically speak. And then I realize that, oh that's one, now only seven more to go. And then it all goes downhill, because dude, the standard's been met, there's no fucking way they can get any better.
But that's just what goes on in my head. I could be wrong, the others might be good. I did throw in a tying element in the four that I did do today. I'm just all urbaned out, man. I'm ready to get back to some nerd rock.
Maybe tomorrow, I can set the standard higher...or not, I will be taking off early to cast my presidential vote. Yip, yip!

I found out yesterday that I have to start pay back my student loan on Nov. 8th. That just so happens to be Billie's birthday, too. Drag. I don't have the money to pay those fools back. Shit. "I'm broke, nigga, I'm broke!!" -Dave Chappelle. I hope my loan consolidation application gets processed in between now and then.