inspiration in the weirdest places

I have a bad habit when I’m driving. I guess it happens when I’m in a car, but I label it as bad habit while driving because it is often distracting and mind-consuming…

You know when there’s roadkill on the side of the road, or a random towel or trash bag, or item that just doesn’t make sense? I have to notice these things. I have to mentally register what they are in my mind and check the review mirror as I pass to confirm that’s what it was. It isn’t a compulsion by any means, but just a natural reaction. I caught myself seriously doing it while I was on I-5 today driving from my mom’s house to my dad. I noticed I was actually making a list of these things and mentally repeating them back to myself; almost playing a memory game with myself.
Example:
“Coat.”
“Coat. Dead kitten.”
“Coat. Dead kitten. Tire.”
“Coat. Dead kitten. Tire. Unidentified roadkill remains.”
“Coat. Dead kitten. Tire. Unidentified roadkill remains. Discarded rope.”
You get the idea.

However, when you’re driving at 80 mph the speed limit, which of course is 65, noting these things, repeating the ones you’ve seen in the past, and making sure you’ve identified the object correctly is thoroughly distracting.

So next time you’re driving and you blame someone for being careless because you think they’re talking on their cell phone, just consider that maybe they’re reliving seeing that dead kitten on the side of the road for the 8th time in the past 2 hours.

Sweet dreams.

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.

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’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.

Today is my first day of finals. I use this term “finals” very losely, because it actually means, “final classes.” Apparently nobody got this memo that you have to go to final classes, but in my case, you are just turning a final in. When I called my mother the other night in a sheer depression/panic (unrelated) and mentioned I had three finals on Monday (related), she just about shit herself. She seemed to think I should ignore the rest of my problems and completely focus on studying up until the second I walked in to the classroom. I then explained I had no tests, only papers to turn in, and she seemed relieved. I then explained all the papers were written, and I had nothing left to do except show up to class on Monday and had them in. Easy-Peasey, one-two-threesey.

Here’s the kicker, you spend a solid 2 hours (maybe) sitting around in class and it’s super fucking annoying because that’s 2 housr I could spend playing Sims (guilty pleasure, sue me) or watching Law and Order (not guilty pleasure, bomb-ass pasttime), but instead I’m sitting in a classroom with 16 other people, counting down the seconds until we can run out of the classroom, throw our papers in the air, and scream Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out for the Summer.” But there’s honestlly not that much energy inside of me right now to do that. I wish I could. I’d probably get a littering fine ($25) for throwing papers into the air. No good.

I was outside reading this book I bought (terrible, tempted to return it. Don’t know if I can do it.) And I felt like someone was reading over my shoulder. I quickly realized that absolutely nobody was, but it was actually me, thinking too hard about everything else going on in my life. I was too horrendously distracted by the little demon punching me in the side of the head. No, not a child, but a metaphoric demon. My thoughts beating my own mind to a pulp. It had the tendancy to move me to tears in public places (on the T, in the park, at the store, etc.) and usually when I’m alone. When someone else is with me, I put the little fucker away, and he generally hides in my cheeks and pops out to say something horrendously innappropriate from time to time. (eg: “Why isn’t your boyfriend at the party? How’s he doing?” “Oh, we broke up. He broke up with me, is what I mean. Uh, so he’s probably doing really well right now.” Then there’s a bunch of awkward stares, I usually burst into tears, and then somebody gives me a hug.) You see? My fingers are now possessed by the devil and I no longer wish to type. I want to chop off my fingers and only write ever again by speaking into a mouthpiece that transcribes my thoughts into a wordprocessor. I’ve considered singeing my tearducts closed as well, but something tells me tear buildup cant be healthy, and the day it explodes may flood Boston Common.

Wow. That actually felt kind of good to get out of my system. I feel kind of bad about it, being that I’ve kept that sort of thing private in the past. But something feels unhonest about writing all these things about being sad and having no explaination for it. Somebody asked if someone died. No, nobody died. Just a little bit of me is exposed, and I’m not dealing with it as well as I expected. I should have been expecting the unexpected. Instead I was jumping to conclusions, expecting the expected, and misreading everything. I, subsequently, feel like an idiot.

Have you ever walked from outdoors inside and there’s that second of partial blindness where everything is either blown out or is too dark for you to register much of anything? That’s how my head feels when I’m alone these days. Luckily for me, I haven’t been spending much time alone. I have some really amazing friends that have stepped out from behind the bushes I’ve planted in front of them and are making sure I’m not institutionalized. (Which I don’t think at this point would entirely suck.)

I’m not sure why I’m being so candid about the situation right now, but I think it has something to do with the healing process. I guess putting it on this sort of public forum makes me feel like I’m killing two birds with one stone to a certain extent. I’m healing and I’m writing - two things that make me feel good.

On a related note:
I was at a party last night and everyone was talking about how they missed “Shitshow Natalie.” Let me explain who that is: One afternoon, I was having a conversation with a friend and we thought it would be funny if everyone we knew was a barbie doll, and how many different outfits and “themes” you would have. I have “Normal Natalie,” “Neurotic Natalie,” “Business Natalie,” “Natalie-dresses-herself-without-a-mirror Natalie,” “Sweatpants Natalie,” “Oregon Natalie,” “New York Natalie,” and “Shitshow Natalie.” “Shitshow Natalie” refers to a certain point in my life that I don’t exactly remember (sorry, Mom and Dad. Happens. It’s college.) But there were some seriously hilarious and fun moments that came out of Shitshow Natalie. I don’t remember there being “bad” times at all. (I don’t know if everyone else could say the same, but everyone else seems to like her.) It’s not like I’m schitzophrenic or anything… If my barbie was child-friendly, I guess she would just be called “Party-Time Natalie.”
Anywho, everyone was talking about how they miss “her,” and were looking forward to her possible return. While I was in a relationship, I kind of stopped going out and turned into a hermit homebody. I still have that bit of me inside (I’m not much of a partier anymore; Shitshow Natalie kind of took it out of me) but a part of me wants to go back into the partying scene. I certainly don’t miss it, but I don’t have to consider someone else in my actions anymore. That seems like such a heavy sentence for someone my age (like I’m talking about my own child or something) but that’s how important that relationshis was to me. Now I’m free to do as I please, whenever I want.
I’m not sure where this part of the post was going, but I felt like I just needed to announce the return of “Party-Time Natalie.” I think she’s going on tour in New York, but she’s probably going to be doing it sober, cause alcohol doesn’t go over in her system well. (Thanks low-tolerance genetics.) Which is cool, because I don’t mind being Sober Sally. I think it’s kind of bomb that I can have that much fun without being wasted. Sometimes I consider it a gift.

I hope my future employers/professors/parents don’t judge me for this. Just consider it a hilarious personality trait that you can treasure and use against me later when I show up to the Christmas Party/Finals/Family Reunion.

I would also like to send a shout out to Radiohead for making “In Rainbows.” I know it’s not everyone’s favorite Radiohead album, but it’s the only one that I consider consistently uplifting enough to listen to on repeat right now.

P.S. did not spellcheck any of this and was typing really fast. Get over it.

Do not wear Colts sweatpants in Boston while going to get a sanguwich at 9:15. Every scary person on the street will comment on them and some cars might honk.

Seacrest Out.

I’m sorry I’ve been out of the loop for a few days. Very busy, but havin fun.

Spent the weekend at ROFLcon (roflcon.org) and it was a blast. I’m going to post about it soon (I met Tron Guy and Lesley Hall - GEM SWEATERS!!!) but finals have consumed my life and quite frankly, I am not patient enough to write about it this instant.

Having weird dreams lately. Very vivid, but getting a lot of good sleep. Kind of kills my sleep theory.

On a “please help me” note: Does anyone know how to get rid of fruit flies? Theres nothing very dirty in my house (garbage is out, sink is empty, etc) but they keep appearing out of NOWHERE. I have literally killed like 50 in the past few days and I don’t know where they came from… UGH.

Also, I am proud to announce that I am the official “general manager” of http://www.wearemjr.com - WAHOOOOO

74 hits today and still going.

P.S. I own Kid Pix. Retro, right?

HAVE A GREAT DAY

I’m a little overwhelmed. The last post is what I turned in for my second nonfiction draft. (We’ll see how that goes… I suspect a workshop massacre.) Anywho, I’ve had a lot on my plate lately and thought I should give an update:

Pros and Cons of the past week:
- I have $80 in my bank account to last me until the end of the month. Don’t invite me out to dinner.
+ Had a really good night with boyfriend last night. Really low key. Went to bed early and just had a good snuggle. I love nights like that… where nothing is really expected except just spending time together.

- Have 2 papers assigned, and 3 more to be assigned. I can smell the disaster ahead.
+ Have 2 drafts of the 2 papers already assigned, and am just waiting for the others to be handed out. I’m glad I got a start on the other two though or else I’d be in a giant pit of doom.

- the medication I was on was not working and was only giving me heinous side effects.
+ met with my doctor and arranged for it to be changed so I can be normal again. sigh.

- Feeling really overwhelmed and busy.
+ going to ROFLcon with boyfriend this weekend. Kind of excited, kind of overwhelmed. Kind of just want to sleep and do homework. Oh well.

- Still feeling overwhelmed and busy.
+ Today is my only day of class. So I should have plenty of time tomorrow to get some work done.

+ made plans with Hallie on Sunday for a photoshoot in the park.
- Terrified of looking ugly and F-A-T. Fabulous.
+ Get to spend that day in the sun
- probably will be sunburned.

I’m a pessimist by nature, I’m sorry. This was pointless.