What? I have a blog?

So I suppose when I started this blog I was a little over zealous about it all. In the back of my mind I kept telling myself that I will get too lazy to ever post anything, but I wanted to be better than that. In my American Family on TV class we had to post blogs instead of turn in papers (awesome) and I felt like I could take on the world of blogging. That was winter term. It is now summer term. There was a spring term in between. Oh well, every day is a new day like my mother tells me every chance she gets. Which is pretty much every time we talk on the phone. That means either I am a big fat naysayer or she is trying to infiltrate my thoughts with her voodoo magic. 

In other news, summer term started on Monday. That's right, I have officially started my summer of hell. I'm taking first year spanish that usually is taken in 9 months. Since it's summer, I'm taking all of the work of 9 months in 9 weeks. That's right, 5 days a week, 2 hours and 20 minutes a day of spanish. Maybe this doesn't seem like a lot to some people. Maybe you're thinking, 'Well, I go to work for 8 hours a day, 2 hours should be simple.' Unfortunately it's not necessarily the amount of time that kills, it's the amount of vocabulary and actividades and homework and stupid online-programs that are new so they don't work properly that gets me. Well, and the amount of time I spend in the Science Two building that they are doing construction on (just like everything else in this city) that smells like burning rubber in one half and paper mache in the other half. But I'm talking about the nasty puke flavored, chunkie paper mache that we used in Kindergarden not the gloss-like, clear, non-puke smelling stuff I was finally introduced to in 10th grade. What was I talking about now? Puke. Oh yes, spanish class. It's a bitch. I guess that's all I have to say about that. 

I am also taking a swimming class and a power yoga class this summer. I'm really excited about these classes especially since I recently realized I have gained almost 50 pounds since I graduated high school 5 years ago. I know there's no way in hell I will ever be as small as I was 5 years ago, but my clothes won't fit and I'm too broke to buy a new wardrobe. So anyway, the swimming class is pretty challenging but laid back. I finally bought a swim cap and goggles that don't take on water, as well as a bathing suit that isn't an old tank top with elastic that doesn't move, so that's pretty cool. I always thought swimming caps were stupid. Now I have seen the light and cheese and rice they are the greatest things EVER. I'm also pretty pumped about power yoga even though I won't be wearing a swimming cap. I was a little intimidated because it is 1 hour and 40 minutes instead of the normal 50 minutes but I really enjoyed it. My teacher is awesome and I feel very prepared for this class. I really need to work on my stress levels and I need to allow my body to move and support itself. With all the back/hip/shoulder/knee problems I've been experiencing more intensely this last year, I need to help my body. I was on prescription anti-inflammatories recently but I'm not sure how much they helped and I don't want to be on a daily prescription forever. In yoga I finally had the epiphany that my body was built to support itself and function properly with no pain. Since I do have pain, I need to adjust what I'm telling myself about my body and I need to support my body by exercising and eating better. I am only 23 and I would rather not get into the habit of thinking I have an unsolvable problem. So there's that. 

So now I have to pee. It's only 11:13am on Saturday and I cannot believe I have achieved as much as I have. I woke up at 9:15 or so. Mike has been getting up early to go to work and I have been getting myself up around 10 so I can do homework before class. This is insane that I'm even able to use these numbers. For those of you who don't know me well, I refuse to answer the phone before noon because I'm usually sleeping. All of my friends are very aware that if they call before noon, I will not answer unless some shift in the universe has caused me to wake early. My friends apologize when they call early but of course my parents absolutely LOVE to call me before noon when they know I'm sleeping. My brother enjoys this too. I guess there's nothing like family...or something like that.

Peace and Love. 

Sunday.

on my porch   there is a planter

nursing Nasturtiums

i received from my neighbor for easter.

she had a hunt and 

brightly colored oval shapes

can still be found in the courtyard.

the kids had super soakers

but the cats had claws-

the parents drank margaritas

in their faded plastic chairs.

"too bad our kids are only 8,

soon we'll have a DD everywhere we go!"

this weekend my friend drove

her white tattered 4runner

home from the bar.

she tried to fix the CD player to hear Janis.

my seatbelt would not work

so i slung it over my shoulder

and linked arms with Francis.

i didn't pray.

i've never been a religious person.

upon exiting the car

we looked for the damage 

on the back bumper.

she claimed it had been there a while

(who could tell with all the other dents)

the tree she hit had a different impression

on it's trunk

right above the piece of 

yellow reflective plastic.

i didn't thank any saints.

i've never been a superstitious person.

those sisters

two sisters taught me what it is to have a sister

two beds in one room on east 23st street

two bouncing blonde alaskans ready for any adventure

these girls told my secret admirer 

i was the one who put the letter in his mail box

my first real humiliating moment in the cafeteria

all because he was their neighbor

and they had big mouths.

they didn't have cable

so we watched babes in toyland

every time

i liked it too

but they had a distinct obsession

being so young i never understood the 

politics that exist in other families

families that i considered part of my own

all i knew were few facts:

sisters had a love i never knew existed

sisters drew lines in their room

to separate one side from the other

but knew they could never separate 

one heart from the other

i've known them longer than they've known them

and i suppose i always pictured them as the two girls

who had all the cool toys

and a bathroom filled with hair barretts 

because they didn't have a brother like me.

i never thought they would 

disconnect from each other

because i never thought it was possible

for their hearts to be whole while apart

i got to high school and my scenery changed.

followed by high school for one, then the other

puberty is one of those things 

that makes you very aware of yourself

and makes it easy to forget who will be there in 20 years

or even 2.

as they grew older

the sisters got separate rooms

different friends

even locks on their doors

but there was always a magnetic field between them

forcing them to stay bonded

even through the fights.

suddenly our annual christmas eve dinner

(that started with the dawn of time) 

felt different

normally we:

sat at the kids table, making gross food combinations

laughed for hours thinking of stupid things to tell the parents

once we moved to the grown-up table

we would sneak off to get stoned in a not so sneaky way

i would get one drunk despite the opinions of adults

now something felt cold

disconnected

sitting on opposite sides of the room

the aura that once drew them together

was now sending them apart

two sisters taught me what it is to have a sister

taught me what it is to have two parts:

one existing in another

life happens and people reinvent themselves

but i can't force myself to believe

that transformations can leave out your other half

no matter how hard you may try.

Jelly Jam-A-Ram

A week or so ago I was going to have an open house type Passion Party. For those who don't know, I am a Passion Parties consultant, I basically do tupperware parties but with sex toys and sensual products. But that's besides the point. For the party I bought some grapes and cherries. Slowly throughout the morning, pretty much everyone bailed out and didn't show up. Lame. So I ate most of the grapes but the cherries just sat in my fridge because they weren't super great and I kind of forgot about them. We did some grocery shopping which meant we needed more room and the fruit had to vacate. I came up with the genius idea to make jelly out of the cherries.

I looked up recipes online and went with the first one I found. The only things I didn't have were pectin (easily found at Safeway) and mason jars. Thankfully, I am a pickle jar collector and recently finished some pickles (I was actually looking for ways to use them). Pickle jars and mason jars are pretty much the same thing right? Right.

No, Seriously. Same thing.

So I boiled the cherries, making cherry juice. Now let me tell you, I am in no way domestic or a betty crocker type. I have been cooking lately because I'm not only broke but I get excited about projects, especially if I can eat them. I also hate wasting things: enter jelly making extravaganza. 

Okay, so I didn't have enough cherry juice. But it was okay because I just put a little less pectin in. And a little bit less sugar too, even though I'm not positive because a lot was spilled on the stove.  "Bring it to a rolling boil". I don't know if you've ever tried to boil a very sugary substance but that does not work unless you want the entire stove a new form of stick red goo.  

I did not. But I got it anyway.

Done! I just needed to put the jelly in the pickle jars. The jars were very hot (boiling goo will do that). I wasn't sure if I should put it in the fridge (will the jars crack with the cold?) or if I should just leave them out to cool down. 

*Rule of thumb: when in doubt, consult the directions.

"Put jars in a hot water bath for 5 minutes." Hot water doesn't cool things down. I was confused.

*Rule of thumb: when in doubt, call your parents.

So I called my mother  (she's the one on the left)

Before we could properly get into the confusion of a hot water bath, I told her I was using pickle jars. This did not please her. I explained my pickle jar expertise to her (they have wonderful seals) but she was worried about 'sterilizing' and 'bacteria'. What does that have to do with hot red goo? Finally, the decision was that following the directions is best, hot water bath it is. Even though this practice is only for sealing jars and certain parties assumed pickle jars would not seal.

The next morning I skipped to the fridge to pull out my masterpieces (even though cherry jelly doesn't sound good to me, I just wanted to see how competent I am). I pulled out the first one, opened it, stuck my nose in to smell the amazing aroma that I created.

And it smelled like pickles. So I got the second jar and when I opened it I heard a wonderful little POP. Yes, that's right, it sealed. HAH! I win. 

Now to explain this next phenomenon, I must first give a piece of the story that I neglected earlier. While I was pouring jelly into the jars, I had one big one and one little one. I decided using the big one would be a waste so I decided to use the one with Mike's Typhoo tea in it. I rinsed it out and poured in the jelly. Okay, now back to the story. 

I popped that heavenly top and went in for a sniff. Yes, you guessed it, it smelled like tea. But not good tea with a hint of cherry, it was a creepy tea smell combined with an odd visual of gleaming cherry jelly. Maybe it only SMELLS like tea but TASTES amazing. Which is actually far off. It did not taste like tea, just solid sugar. The 4 and a half cups of sugar flashed in my mind. 

Which brings me to my next endeavorer, I'm going into business for myself. Just send me 20 bucks and your mailing address.  I'll send you a 'grab bag' of 'specialty items' straight from Portland, Oregon. Not convinced? How about this:

How do you feel about saying no to this face?

New house!

Mike and I seem to be getting more and more settled in our new digs. This weekend was rather eventful because we got rid of a waste-of-space couch (used to be to the right of the fridge below) and we went to Ikea. I had never been and it was quite the cluster-fuck of everything you could ever need for your house. In fact, I think that's even their slogan. Well, they didn't have everything. I was in the market for a super sweet toilet mat and after searching till I was sweaty and disoriented I finally asked an employee. He looked at me as if he were thinking in his head "I hate my job, I hate my job" and told me no. NO. A two story warehouse with actual layouts of houses (including bathrooms) and no toilet mat. I was shocked. And mad. And sweaty.

Luckily we got out of there and I was able to focus on being productive. Below is the picture of the coffee table purchased from Ikea and assembled by yours truly. As much as I would love to bitch about assembling my own furniture (has anyone watched the newest episode of The Wire?) I must say, I love it. I wasn't super stoked about the screw that wouldn't go in because it went perfectly into a knot, but at least it's real wood.

So this is our living room, the front door has the giraffe poster on it and right next to it is little built in shelves which are pretty wicked.

This is the kitchen, with my back to the living room picture you just saw. The back door is to the left.

Now with my back to the kitchen, you can see Mike at my desk, bookshelves behind him and straight ahead is the living room. The old couch is in this picture so don't get confused.

My wall-o-relatives.


This is Chris. Not only was he my RA freshman year, but he also grew up with Mike. He also enjoys playing guitar while making weird faces. Just be glad this has no audio.

This is the hallway, the living room is to the right, I am standing in the doorway of the bedroom.
This is the bedroom. And yes, this is clean.

And then, there was photobooth.




This is how exciting our new house is:


Thank you MacBook.

Step To It

Since today was the holiest of holy days, we celebrated appropriately by going to see Step Up 2 the Streets.  My favorite part about seeing this particular movie in the theaters was being there with all of the kiddies who were given special permission to see an 8 o'clock show, even though that meant they wouldn't be home to go beddy-bye at their normal time.  During the previews there was a trailer for the new flick Prom Night that not only looks horrible but the people in the movie are graduating in 2008. I am too young to feel that old. To add to my geriatric thoughts, the girls (whom were all dressed up in special valentine's dresses from Forever 21) said "OMG" (they didn't say the letters O-M-G, I'm just abbreviating it for dramatic effect) "we should totally go see this movie on PROM NIGHT!"

And then I vomited. 

Good thing the movie got started soon after and I sat-danced through the whole thing.  There were only a couple more vomit incidences when the love scenes made their way on to the screen.  I think I almost liked this one more than the original Step Up because there was more dancing and they didn't try as hard to get a love story in there.  It is a little softer around the edges in terms of the reality of 'the streets' in Baltimore, MA though.  The first one actually has a death but in this one, no ones dies.  Since The Wire has made me an expert on Baltimore (not really), I know that death is the only reliable thing that happens in that city (really).  

I don't know if it was the intense rain dance sequence, the Rockstar I drank during it or the intoxication of valentine's day but I danced all the way down the stairs of the theater....I did a little twist followed by a jump with a sick dismount that led to this.  

Good thing I'll have a while to rest up for the finale of this amazing trilogy. Step Up: The Convalescent Years

Let's get it goin'

I've been lacking politics and messages.

replacing them with

Spaces and  fewer  Words

Grammer. is essential

Spelling is optional

smooth writing tools: a Must

It's amazing the happiness that can be attained with three dollars

 95 cents