inspiration in the weirdest places

I am a little on the irritated side. Here’s why:

- my favorite sandals broke today. seriously. my favorite. i am desperately trying to repair them
- before i came home, i researched concerts to take my brother to. but ticketmaster only showed oregon. im an idiot. sasquatch festival is next weekend, and we could have seen REM, Modest Mouse, Mars Volta, Flight of the Conchords, Death Cab, Built to Spill, Michael Franti and Speahead, and like 500 other bands I’d really like to see. I found out today that it’s next weekend. I hate myself.
- had to go shopping today for shorts. i hate my body. especially my thunder thighs, mannish shoulders, and waistless G-U-T. i need to marry up and look into some serious plastic surgery.
- it was in the 90s today. outside was hellishly hot. tomorrow it is supposed to be the same.
- had some correspondence with specific people i wish i hadnt. this includes issues i did not want to address, have been avoiding, and knew would come up. (eg: my current weight. author’s note: I am not overweight or underweight by any means. I am just not where I want to be in terms of physique. )
- was somewhat verbally molested by a woman at home depot, who approached my mother and i while in line for the saw machine and talked about private things that probably shouldnt be talked about in line for the saw machine, at home depot, to strangers, on the hottest day of the year thus far. (must have gone to her brain.)
- painted my fingernails, didnt let it dry long enough, and then chipped it all off and bit off most of my fingernails.
- had my mother tell me twice that i should have been a screenwriter. tried that. failed miserably. reminders don’t help.
- for the fourth time, could not log into the administrative section of wearemjr to complete my managerial duties.
- i left my door open for a bit, and just as my mother warned, there are now bugs in my room. ew.

- wrote a completely pointless an whiney post after thinking about how i was going to write something super articulate and hilarious.

author’s p.s. note: considered that i spelled “whiney” wrong (and that it actually should be “whiny”) but looked it up and realized it can be spelled “whiney” and “whiny”. booyah.

Chicago O’Hare Airport is a joke.

So I’m on a layover waiting for my flight to take off at around 10:30. It’s 9 now, and I’m getting a little stir crazy, considering I got about 3 hours of sleep (not good sleep mind you) and sat around in Boston Logan airport for about an hour and a half.

So here I am at Chicago O’Hare, which I was kind of looking forward to because a) I have 2 hours or so to kick it and run around and b) omg I can take advantage of “fast food is only allowed while traveling” rule. So after I figure out I have to switch concourses, which isn’t that hard, I get to ride the moving sidewalk under the tarmac under the bright light up art-installation that travels for about 500 feet of the ceiling. Everyone gets to distracted, O’Hare installed a brilliant speaker system right near the end of the walkway that says “The walkway is ending. PLEASE LOOK DOWN.” Cause we’re obviously all staring up at the ceiling. Good call, O’Hare.

Security guards drive in circles on segways. When we’re concerned about an obese society, I feel like cops should not be riding segways. Learn to run the old fashioned way… there are moving sidewalks every 10 feet (seriously) and you can get to any gate in about 30 seconds, unless there’s a child in your way running backwards on the moving sidewalk, or people don’t understand the “stand to the right, walk to the left” theory.

So I arrive in my concourse, I have about an hour and a half before my flight takes off, so I decided to take advantage of my “fast food travel only” rule. So I hit up McDonalds for some greasy-peasey French fries (childhood is calling…) and I remember that it is, indeed, only 8 am. Fabulous. So hash browns it is, and I pick up 2 for a little over 2 dollars. Well obviously these hash browns are gonna make me thirsty, so I hit up another kiosk to get something besides soda, because I prefer to sleep on flights and I don’t even want my teeth feeling coke-furry for 4 hours. I grab a Perrier (alright, so its carbonated or whatever, but it sounded really refreshing.) It was one of those tiny plastic bottles and I grab a couple bucks out of my wallet. She rings it up and says “$4.17.”
No thank you. I put the Perrier back in the case and walk away. How do they get off charging four-fucking-seventeen for a tiny bottle of water with bubbles in it? I check the drink case and everything is $2.25 and up. Perrier says it’s $2.25, but apparently, tax here makes it $4.17? What the hell, Chicago. I was afraid to go to Starbucks after that.

I get to my gate and I realize my seat assignment is a middle seat, which is like my biggest pet peeve with flying (besides sitting in front of small children or people who don’t realize that the seat in front of them is YOUR seat and feel the need to use it as a personal punching bag for the entire flight.) So I wait in line for a solid 10 minutes to see if I can get a seat change. Surprise, no more window seats. So I change to an aisle seat (cause the lady at the desk and I are tight after we had a good laugh after the guy in the sling tried to get an exit row seat: “Can you lift a 70 pound door?” “Well I could try.” “I’m sorry sir. Your arm is injured. I think it would be irresponsible for me to put you in an exit row.” Duh. He seemed pretty irritated, but I don’t want to put my potential safety in the arms of a man in a sling. Then I asked the nice desk lady if she would put me on a waiting list for window seats if one opened up, even though I have an aisle. I treasure my windows, and figured that I could give up economy plus (which I somehow got as a bonus for being awesome today) and sit in the back in some seat somebody forgot to check in for. This makes no sense to me: how can you buy a plane ticket, and not show up for the seat? That’s absolutely ridiculous.

I’m always shocked that the flights to Portland are constantly booked full. There’s a flight almost every day, but there’s usually a standby list, and about 20 people on it hoping to get on the flight. I don’t get that either. Standby scares me, and there’s no guarantee you’ll get to go where you need to. But it’s obvious everyone is going to Oregon, and is possibly from there. Everyone in the waiting area is either wearing Patagonia, Tevas, Crocks, or something straight out of East Portland. (My mother’s friend describes it as a “Bohemian Ghetto.” I still love East Portland.)

I’m excited about going home. Although the weather is described as currently “overcast,” you have to take into consideration that this is a morning Oregon standard, and should not be judged too early. It is supposed to be 90* by this weekend. I packed my sunscreen.

At my mom’s condo, everything is in unpacking mode. She just moved in a few weeks ago (I volunteered to fly out and help, but it sounded like she had it together) and is hanging pictures, fixing things up, installing things – it’s HER condo, and she can do whatever she wants to it. I’m really excited for her. She seems really happy in her new space. We talked on the phone and ichat (sending each other webpage links) and picked out patio furniture. I’m curious to see what she picked.

Dad’s house is another story. Lil Bro is going to prom on Saturday, and next week I have doctors appointments Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Wahoo. I guess. But they’re things I need to do, and a trip to Corvallis is necessary. I need to close my old bank account and collect on the savings I have there (like $600 or something!) and put it in my new savings account. (after paying to bartending school, it mostly cleaned me out.) For my stellar final grades, I think “Daddy” bought me a Wii, just as I craved, and Lil Bro and I will be probably nonstop Wii-ing and playing Rockband until my arms hurt and I can drum no mo. I’m also planning on going to visit Alex in the euge – probably gonna feed ducks or something (heheh), and H is in town (he flew back from Beantown last Wednesday) and hopefully we’ll get in some good party times together. I love that kid; he’s such a doll and I feel like a dick for misjudging him in high school. Maybe I can talk him into seeing Iron Man with me since my fam has already seen it. I’m making Dad go to Indiana Jones with me though. Bwahah.

Plane arrives for boarding in about 20 minutes and I figure I should be listening for my name in case they decide that I should get all of the seats I want. The first flight was pretty bomb – I had a window, and a lady had the aisle. I fell asleep before takeoff, and when I woke up, she had moved and I had the entire row to myself. Unfortunately, we were about to land and I missed my chance to sprawl across A,B, and C, but it was nice to not feel claustrophobic.

In all, I am under whelmed by Chicago O’Hare and it’s false advertising of “WIFI” (LIES) and subsequently, I have typed this on word at 9am, and will have to transfer to wordpress later. Damnit. I can’t even check my email.

Sup to my Midwest relatives… HOLLAAAAAAAAA

P.S. For those of you following along, yes, I changed my flight YESTERDAY to be leaving TODAY instead of SATURDAY. I didn’t want to wait around anymore, and heaven help me if I got laid-over in San Francisco as was originally planned.

Got a fortune cookie tonight that spoke to me:

“Life always gets harder near the summit.”

P.S. This one goes out to a special witness of a recent stabbing. I would start a “cupcake of the month” club for you if I could.

Things seem to finally have slowed down. Lately, my biggest stress is figuring out how to make the day pass faster… Nights are easiest - finding sleep to pass close to 12 hours.

Today I slept late, watched some Law and Order (surprise surprise), and a trip to Hallie’s for pedicures and silly movies. Watched “Legally Blonde” and “Superstar” - which I did line-for-line along with the movie. Had just a good afternoon with mah girrrrl.

Okay, so in Mariah Carey’s music video for “Bye Bye,” theres the whole “this is for everybody whos lost sombeody” or wahtever, and they go through all of these snapshots of people who have died, and there’s a shot of Mariah Carey and Pavoratti. I mean, lets get real Mariah, you and Pav weren’t exactly BFFs, you know? I chuckled a little bit and then felt like a big a-hole. Not because of Mariah. I could care less about that talented crazy.

I just binged on chinese food and almost watched a “true hollywood story” about Cheerleading. Like I want to know how cheerleading may lead to death by falling on your head after being thrown 15 feet in the air. Duh.

Okay. Coloring books and Law and Order. Have a nice night. I’m having trouble filling my days (without spending money.) Suggestions?

Was going home on the T last night from a friend’s house. I was riding near the front, because for some reason I really wanted to look in the tunnels. I could hear the radio that the T driver had, where all the drivers can communicate to each other. It was quiet for awhile, and out of nowhere, just past midnight, somebody on the radio said “Happy Mothers’ Day to all the moms who are driving tonight.”

It was really touching. Almost sappy-throw-up-in-my-mouth.

So happy mothers day. Don’t forget to call your mom. (Mine gets to hear about my good final grades… bwahah.)

Film:
Finished “Paris, Je t’aime” (finally). I thought it was a really beautiful film. For those of you who have seen it, the last story really spoke to me - the one with the woman who goes to Paris by herself and the entire voice over is like an essay she wrote for her french class. The weak pronunciation, the jilted speech patterns, and the tourist short pants, fanny pack, and white tennis shoes. The whole film was a really glorious piece of work, and I’m very curious to see if “New York, I Love You” ruins the concept or paints the portrait of New York by New Yorkers that Parisians painted of Paris. I highly recommend it if you haven’t seen it.

TV: Finished disk 1 of “Weeds” Season 2. It feels like FOREVER since I’ve seen Season 1, but the ideas are still as funny an interesting as it once was. I’m having a little trouble with the DEA theme, and I think they should have considered the long-term effects of it before introducing it to the storyline. It’s going to be difficult to write out if they decide to. (For those of you keeping up, don’t tell me how if they do it. I’ll find out eventually…)

Books:
Finished “Fuck Up” by Arthur Nersesian. Really great, but not for everyone. It’s the story of this guy where things just keep getting shittier and shittier. Basically it’s a “what can go wrong will go wrong” and even the things you don’t think will go wrong, will get worse. It’s such a nitty-gritty 90s New York. Reading another one of this books “The Swing Voter of Staten Island”. Oh go figure, another book about New York.

Apartment:
Swept. Dusted. Swiffered. Started dishes. Paid rent. Grocery shopped. You know. Keeping busy.

I don’t know what I’m doing with my life anymore and I can only focus on tomorrow. I suppose I just count the hours until I go to sleep again, and start the timer over when I wake up again. It’s a pretty sad existence, but if that’s what it takes to get through the day right now, then that’s what I’m going to do.

I think hangovers are an incredibly personal experience. You can’t blame it on anyone else, and it’s not like stomach flu where you get it, it’s obviously not your fault, and you’re just mad at the world for getting sick. Hangovers are your fault alone, and are completely predictable.

Last night I should have known. When I woke up in Mahri’s lap at 2am and everyone said we were walking home, I couldn’t focus on much and walking was such a pain in the ass. Waking up this morning at 7am, all I wanted to do was die. My head was screaming, my stomach wanted to turn inside out in my throat, and my liver was on strike. I immediately threw up (there was nothing there. Literally) and my body did that whole unnatural convulsion thing. It’s funny really, I find it hideous to watch Fear Factor or whatever and see someone’s body move in that unnatural shaking and jerking as it tries to expel anything out. If there’s nothing, there’s just a lot of spit and tears and jerking.

But I know my body better than it thinks it does, so I popped a few advil, got back into bed, and tried to sleep. By 10am, I’d thrown up again, not slept well (I was sweaty and freezing) and my head only got worse. I crawled into the kitchen and started making toast. After buttering, I walked towards the couch and they fell off the plate, butter side down on the floor - now I pride myself for my constant need to sweep, but hell no I ain’t eatin that. So I made some more toast, watched some Law and Order, and waited for the advil to kick in.

All day has been a waste. A self-enduced sickness that should really be treatable in my opinion. Everyone has their hangover cure, mine is to never get one in the first place by drinking energy drinks the night before. Alas, last night had no planning, and I found myself celebrating a birthday with champagne, socially having a beer or two, and then hitting the tequila upon arrival at the party. I had a great time last night - I was totally “Party Time Natalie” again and everyone was just enjoying each other’s company. I was happy. But it’s just no good. I deserve this. I should have known better.

I wish I hadn’t just wasted a day (and had to cancel on people) by being such an idiot last night. I was down already, but alcohol only makes me sadder. I’ve been trying to keep busy to distract myself, but today, a day that I’m completely incapacitated and imprisoned by my own body, it’s difficult to see the light at the end of my very long tunnel.

Le sigh. Le hangover LE SUCKS.

I’m watching Magnolia. It’s the part with the frogs. I have no idea what’s going on in this movie anymore.

It reminded me of this random association I have with Julianne Moore. I don’t know why but I think of Laura Linney every time I see her, and every time I see Laura Linney, I see Catherine O’Hara.

I thought I would do some photo representations of celebrities I mentally associate with one another. Ready?

Julianna Moore, Laura Linney and Catherine O’Hara

Ben Stein, Eugene Levy, and Groucho Marx

Sean Astin and Seth Rogan

That’s all for today. If I think of more, I’ll post.

God, what is up with the raining frogs? What is up with this movie? Maybe I should have been paying closer attention from the beginning.

Was I the only person in the world that didn’t know Chuck Palanuik was gay? I mean, not that it matters, but I was reading “The Avdocate” in the waiting room today and there was an article talking about his mysterious sexuality and then he confirmed he was gay.

Whatevers. I just didn’t know, or have any idea. It’s not like there’s “writer gadar” or anything.

Last night’s episode. Sigh. The ending just… UGH.

If you watched, let’s chat. I don’t want to ruin it for anyone by writing online about it. I’m not like those losers that made “RIP Snape” groups on Facebook thirty seconds after the last book came out.