does anyone know a redhead?

Apparently Brian's psychic barber told him he's supposed to meet a redhead sometime in the next six months. If you are a redhead you should meet my new friend Brian

Brian is my new friend who traveled through the computer monitor to tutoring with me on Monday. I love the idea that he has a psychic barber. He and I and Emma (another newbie) all had $1 natty bohs at Fraizers after the Family Center. We ordered three at once to get the cheap price and decided then and there that this would be our Monday tradition.

During tutoring, I stopped into Ms. Sugarman's room at some point to see how Brian was doing battling the Hampden brats he was assigned but found a quiet room with only one lonely tutor tapping a pencil against his forehead. Brian was all alone. His student left him and was running around the building chasing another kid and screaming swear words. He swallowed hard and paused before he asked: "Am I allowed to hit them?"

Brian is funny.

So, if you're a redhead, you should come meet us after tutoring on Mondays or Wednesdays when we will commiserate about failing at being study buddies and tell funny stories about the kids we teach. I guess you could come meet us if you aren't a redhead, but I'd really like his barber to be right about this one.

You should read all about my new friend Brian at calculator on fire. I especially like the one about thanksgiving dinner.

(By the way, did you notice that my sidebar is acting funny? How do I fix that?)

it's been so long

Last week was a short week. Tuesday was so uneventful in the office that I didn't even have anything to write to you about. I left on Wednesday for the Thanksgiving with the big guy.

We did the regular stuff, like cooked far too much food and played board games. As most holidays go, my mother was manic and panicky and rushed through the house talking a mile a minute. Her cat is skinny and neurotic like her. Blacky has only one ear and cries constantly. She is so thin you can see her ribs and the ridges of her spine, just like my mother. Except the cat has a thyroid problem and cries, we believe, because she's blind.

In the morning, I hear my mother stumble down the stairs with stomping feet slam the door to the microwave to heat up last night's coffee, shuffle her slippers to the toaster to light her cigarette, the microwave goes 'ding' and you hear the door click open and slam again, and as she sits down hard on the couch leaning forward, you hear the toaster 'pop' thinking it was toasting bread all along. During all of this incredible symphony, the cat is mewing. Blacky has a shrill loud cry that doesn't start until she hears my mother stumble down for the coffee and smoke. "Shut up." my mother says "shut up shut up shut up." she repeats until she can't stand it anymore and screams.

This happens daily. We were all just glad she doesn't sleep on the couch anymore.

My mother however, is an excellent hostess, the kind of woman that feeds you too much and tells you stories that make your sides hurt from laughter. She was so pushy about how I should treat the big guy as a guest for the holiday. Get this for him, get that for him, you should be making him breakfast. I'd roll my eyes and giggle with Jman while I played hostess too.

But so you understand my mother: when he left she screamed at me said that she was appalled at how I ran around making him comfortable and that I looked pathetic waiting on him hand and foot. She said that I was so desperate to have a man in my life that I'd do anything for him. It was hurtful and mean and obviously, totally insane. I saw red and called her a cunt. I was devastated with myself that I couldn't get through one holiday without some sort of brutal emotion surfacing. It all feels so intolerable. Maybe I'm angry that she said something negative about me, or my beau, but, I think it goes far beyond that where I'm actually mad at her for being crazy and acting crazy. I'm mad at not being able to trust what will happen next and always ending up in the same spot. I'm mad at myself for being angry at her for acting the way she always has, I feel like a terrible daughter... And, in a flicker, as always, it's over, and she buys me a purse to match my jacket and tells me a story about how I was a perfect baby.

I know, it's not logical. My life at home is not logical. She's not logical, but, in so many senses she's lovely, too. Can you admire and respect and be devoted to someone who you believe is quite possibly very insane? Well, I mean, I know you can, because I am. But I think there is some severe detriment that I'm suffering because of this incredible duality in someone I care so much about.

My mother was a nurse back when they wore caps. She volunteers in the church and sits with the holy Eucharist for a couple hours a week. She sets the phone to ring to wake her up for work with a message in her own voice "This is your wake up call, get out of bed.Get up. Get up." She's sad and distracted a lot and says things just loud enough for you to hear "Some days you eat the bear; some days the bear eats you." She has soft hands and a warm smile. Strangers in the bank or the parking lot of the grocery store love to tell her their problems and my mother loves to listen and rub their shoulder or hold them as they cry. She raised four children on her own. She has never dated after my father told her that he never loved her. She values things like clean hands and things in tiny boxes or miniature bottles. She likes small servings that don't make her feel overwhelmed and never drinks. She can see right through you and see exactly where you are hiding your pain. She talks a lot and explains everything so you can understand. She's afraid of dying alone and no one finding her for days. She'll make you eat a banana if they are going to go bad soon. She repeats herself and begins again. She never made me have a bedtime and doesn't keep one herself.

My friend, Russell calls my mother eccentric instead of absolutely nuts. I like this.

_________________________________________________

On Friday
I saw Billy. One of my good friends when I was in tenth grade. He drunkenly introduced me to everyone at the bar as 'the one that got away.' He wallowed in his beer at some point telling me how hard it was 7 years ago and that his girlfriend doesn't like me because she's jealous. I haven't ever met her and hadn't seen Bill in 3 years. "I can tell you all of this now." he said. And somehow it wasn't as awkward as it should have been.

I'm always amazed how he makes friends everywhere he goes. Everyone at the bar knew him. It was a Friday's kind of place, and still, everyone came up to greet me because I was a friend of Bill's. They gave him high-fives.

This was odd to me, mostly because Billy doesn't have hands at all. He has arms that reach to where our elbows do and one leg. It all disappears after a while and it was odd, because I haven't seen him in so long, I guess, I was fascinated with it again. Forgetting how it felt to forget about it. He was around a crowd of friends that without thinking, put beers between his grip confident that he was capable of anything. And he is.

On Saturday
I went to the Slotracer show on South Street. Two of my brothers came out and their each with their spouse or future spouse. They really seemed to enjoy it. The bar was this place called Abilines which was kind of a neat space. A bar with a marquee and their name in lights. But the South Street crowd is really different than what they deal with in Baltimore. They are a bunch of really different people that are all there to drink and hang out, not necessarily to listen to music. It was really crowded and loud but by the end of their set they totally won everyone over. Pretty powerful stuff we're dealing with, here.

I left the show early to get back to Jeanne's house for the party. Brian was past out drunk by the time we got there. There were pink Christmas lights up and a some of my good friends from many a winter break, stuck at home from college. There were big PBRs, warm bellies and good conversation made me miss that little bunch and those times. Millie came with me, who dates the drummer from the band, at some point, some drunk guy swung his arm around her and asked her how she was doing.

We left by two and made the long trek home to Baltimore. It ended up being a terribly long and laborious trip. The roads were so rainy I had to guess where the lines were in the road. Millie turned on a terrible radio station and promptly fell asleep. I couldn't take my hands off the wheel to change it. The whole drive home I thought that we might die. I drove with my blinkers on for at least half of the trip.

We had to wait for the boys when we finally arrived in Ellicott city at the warehouse where they practice. I was getting really nervous thinking about all of them driving in that white van with no seats. I thought about Buddy Holly and tragedy. But everyone made it safely. We all got home by 6am. I think I might treasure sleep far more than I would ever like to be in a band, or follow one around.

On Sunday
I drank some beers with Sarah and Russell and later watched Lisa Picard is famous, which I don't think I would necessarily recommend, but I'd probably reference the annoying characters in it, later. I set out some pretty new clothes to wear to work today and was too anxious about going back to work to get good sleep.

After four days of reeling adventure, why do we have to come back here?

alone in Paris

Last night I had this dream where I was alone in Paris at night looking for The Louvre and never finding. Instead I found this pier with steps leading to a harbor. Maybe for me, Paris is Baltimore. Except in my dream the water was clean. I stepped down the steps slowly wondering which was the last step, and thinking there was one more, I plunged, unaware, into this warm clear water and could see my dress float up around me. I walked around after that, sort of proud that I was soaked and lost in Paris. I came home, to my mothers house to find out that I cut off all of my hair and bleached it white-blonde, "like Joan of Arc," I said out loud. And was pleased how easy it was to style for work on a Monday morning.

I've never been to Paris.

I spent the morning blow-drying my actual, real-life hair by the car heater on full blast and listening to David Lee Roth and Sammy Hagar together on the Howard Stern Show.
When did I start listening to Howard Stern?

On Friday, the show was great and I got to run into a lot of friends, Among them, calulator on fire. Imagine that!Saturday, I made hummus and curry chicken and Russell and Michael took my old couch away to Michael's house. A bunch of people came over to drink fancy boxed wine and watch whatever was on television. Sarah and I straightened our hair. Half of the crew that had collected there, went to brit pop, the other half to Kelly's bar on Eastern to do karaoke.

Internet, it's about time that I told you. I'm afraid of three things in life
1. Cancer
2. Sharks
3. Karaoke

Needless to say, I didn't sing, but thought it would be a great idea to get really drunk instead....It wasn't such a great idea. I spent the remainder of our time there, force my double-vision to dissipate, and attempted (and failing) at trying to look like I had it all together. I came home with a business card of someone named "dj ray" who promised me a cheap security system if I wanted one.

Sunday was full of take-out food and television, as it ought to be.

I stayed up too late last night hoping that the weekend would never end, but inadvertently sabotaged my Monday morning, making it even more difficult to get out of bed.

baltimore thanksgiving parade

this saturday!

get drunk on your lunch break

my bosses aren't here today, so I decided that as an extra-special treat for myself I'd have a few beers at a full hour lunch. I hardly ever take a full hour for lunch. So it was nice to read my book in the bar and hear the bartender talk about her crazy stalker that invested all of his money in an invention and lost his house, but still brings her flowers. When I came back to the office, I spent a lot of time typing the wrong letters and hitting backspace. I should be drunk all the time at work!

tonight? I think I'm going to the talking head to hear two if by sea and Gary Epstein and the LP's. Ahhh. nice.

Maybe I'll get crabs before hand. ...mmmmmm....

wasabi and seaweed

I'm no dreamologist, but I can tell you that something is really wrong with my brain. Last night I got cranky and realized that I was really over-tired from my over-stressed week. I crashed eventually and had a really gross and disturbing dream:

(it's really gross)

I was squeezing these pimples on my face that you couldn't see, and like I was squeezing a tub of tooth paste, in one fat curling smush, a cylinder of soft wasabi wrapped in wet seaweed oozed out of my pores. It kept happening over and over again all over my face. Pounds of this green and greener stuff...It was disgusting.

I am disgusting.

I've been grossed out all day. What does this mean?

save me from myself
Last night I went to blogger happy hour and immediately kicked into my "meet and greet" mode where I tell embarrassing stories about myself which get progressively more embarrassing in equal ratio to how many beers I've had. Since I jumped right in and started off talking about how, just before I arrived at Lulu's, I washed my hair in the creepy shower behind the vending machine in my office building, there was really no where for me to go, I was stuck. It was inevitable that I would stumble over a bar stool to show new internet friends my tattoos. I was glad my friends were there to tease me. Like they were my brother and sister, they mocked my handgestures and facial expressions as I talked to new people. Maybe it distracted me a little bit from my rather inevitable fate which was, of course, to make a fool of myself. And I'll tell myself now: "no,no, but fool in a good way...like a jester."

I really had a great time and met some fantastic new people like messy hair girl, calculator on fire, his buddy argyle and I don't want to get off on a rant here...

this is just a shout out to all of those people I've met before that it was terrific to see again.
intellectual defenestration fool's fate
my buddies:
jaime
russell
and virginia
and of course:
epiphany
even daB showed up.

what a fun night.

the hum of the heater and the photocopy machine

Last night as it was nearing 9pm, I was one of the only people left in the building. It was a little creepy to say the least, but everything, or almost everything got accomplished for today's meeting which was terrific.

I'm on a very short break right now, waiting to for the catering service to arrive, and also waiting to steal a mini-sandwich or two.

Last night when I got home I started a new book Timbuktu by one of my all-time favorites Paul Auster. It starts off in the perspective of Mr. Bones, the K-9 companion of Willy Christmas, who adopted the surname after an hallucination of Santa. But with Auster, we'll never know where it's going to go.

Will I see you tonight at lu lu's?

my bosses are in a meeting conspiring to keep me here late tonight

I have a chance to write to you know, because I'm waiting to hear how bad the prep will be for tomorrow's big meeting. There's nothing I can do now, but wait...

Sunday wasn't all that bad. It is just a shame that I won't get paid for six hours of work on a day I'd rather be laying around on my couch in my underwear and sweatshirt. There was something almost nice about it. It was only me and the three top bosses. I felt like we were really getting our hands dirty in this project we are supposed to present tomorrow( well, they are supposed to present). Since, none of them had any idea how it was supposed to look, I had just as much input on things as they did. It felt like we were in it together. The feeling was really like what I remember trying to race to a deadline in the school newspaper office in high school. Being in the building after everyone had gone because what you had to do was important, or felt important at the time. It's sort of sad to think that one of the happiest times in my life was being editor of my high school newspaper. I liked being groggy during class because I was up all night, I liked having blue pencils sticking out of my hair. I liked commiserating and being excited with a small group of people about our capacity for success and our achievements. I liked the hurdles we met, and overcoming them. I liked how close we felt. Also, I remember wearing a lot of polyester then. I like the way polyester felt too. So,anyway, I have to say: honestly, I loved working on Sunday, I just hate working the rest of the week.

On Saturday I met Carl of Baltimore and Liz. I just wrote three sentences and deleted all of them because I'm a little worried they'll think I'm nerdy if they read my internet journal gushing about how I thought they were cool. Ah Hell, I guess I've done it now, haven't I? But the point is, that we had an awesome time at the Slotracer show.

I can't wait for this presentation to be over. Directly afterwards I'm going to go to the blogger happy hour (organized by epiphany) I'm really excited because the bar is right near where I work, so it will be immediate gratification....

arrrrgh!

I have to come into work on SUNDAY morning!!!

very, very miscellaneous

Today I feel like a grown up. I'm wearing a suit jacket, my hair down, and listened to NPR on the car ride in. They talked about Yassar Arafat dying early this morning. I was reading all about him on BBC and wondering what will happen now. That's when I found this:

Woah. Young Arafat was a hottie. Who woulda thought. Look at those lips!

Yesterday M. Curry the good ole ex-drama teacher, VP of the Gooch, and academic dean tried to call me about "something he's working on at the college that he'd like to know if I would be involved in." I left a message telling him that "this project seems interesting and mysterious" and tried to set up a phone-date with him. I'm really so glad that I might be able to help them in some way that isn't money. I hope it involves public speaking...or better yet, a dinner party!

I'm really in the mood for delicious cheeses today.

I just had to call a man by the name Jose Ramone. I wondered if it was Joey's Mexican Cousin...I wanted to make a joke, but I didn't.

"uno, dos, tres, quatro.."

okay, okay, the real post. Let's get down to business and stop posting pictures of dead icons and cheese:

Yesterday at tutoring Chelsey and I worked on reading and writing skills. She kept giggling at the idea of having to keep her lips closed when she read. She kept asking me why she had to read without moving her lips, And it was really funny, because I don't know why she has to learn this. It's silly, really.

I let her bring in her own choices of books from the library that she could read aloud to me and also read to herself and answer comprehension questions I asked. She chose three books, two were easy guide to white magic, witchery, and spells, and the last book was a teen-aged romance novel about this High school Wrestler who falls in love with his female opponent. Lots of rolling around on the mat there. She let me choose which of the three we'd read together. To avoid being blushy and embarrassed, I picked the Witchcraft books.

Reading out loud together I realized that a lot of her trouble comes in when she comes across a multi-syllabic word, she just rushes through it, not really understanding how to pronounce it, or what it means. So, we slowed everything down a few measures. We'd stop on a word I thought she might not know the meaning of, and we'd work though it. I'd let her tell me what it meant, but if she didn't know, I'd help her figure it out by the root word, or what it sounded like in the sentence.

I was a little worried about teaching her this sort of unscientific approach to learning a word you've never heard before, but I was pleasantly surprised when she went to write her own story (that I told her I'd proof for grammar, spelling and detail) she asked me for the big dictionary that no one ever opens at the center. The huge scary one, she used to run from.

The moral of the story is that if you let kids read books about witchcraft and sexy co-ed wrestling teams and let them write stories about their little boyfriend and how they are meant to be together forever they are more likely to want to learn the lesson you have to teach.

Chels was working on her story about her boyfriend. After the first draft I told her that her story had to be 6 full paragraphs to tell the story with as much detail as it needed. I don't think Chels ever wrote 6 full paragraphs. She wanted me to write a story about the big guy and how we met. She must be getting hormonal because she cried a little when she read it. She told me she was going to bring her story home and work on it. She was really excited to see how writing develops after more than one draft.

Last year at this time she was on a float in the Mayor's Christmas parade because she was the runner up for the Little Miss Hampden Beauty pageant. This year I asked her if she knew what a condom was. I was relieved when she screeched out "Eww Miss Jessica....That's disgusting."

Shelby, my other "study-buddy", when asked on a biology quiz where the female/male hormones were produced, she pointed to the elbow. He mother told me this with joy.

They both need help with their sentence structure and amount of detail when writing. I'm going to buy them journals "like the kind at Rite Aide?" their eyes lit up.

sorry everybody

This 'sorry everybody' link could provide hours of entertainment and also reassurance that you aren't alone in voting blue. Click on 'Gallery' for thousands of Americans apologizing to the world for the way the election turned out.

woah.

I just wrote the longest blog entry all about all of the things I did this weekend. Immediately after that I closed the box and clicked the "okay, i'll be an idiot and lose everything I wrote" button.

It's probably for the best, really. it wasn't a very good entry anyway.

h-e-l-e-n-a

"Peace, America....I'm out"


I just posted these pictures from her going away party this summer. I know it's late, but it's kind of nice to see them and post them now that I'm missing her.

Let me tell you about Helena: She can walk down stairs on her hands. She's excellent at spelling and math and language and music(which means that she developed the side of her brain where mine turned to mush. I always try to explain to her how interested I am that our brains behave so differently and how fascinating I think it is.)She likes salt and vinegar chips, candy of all sorts and batz maru. She giggles constantly and always says things like "Guys, I can't believe what a fantastic time were having right now! This is soooo awesome!" She'll say this even if we are watching television static together. Helena is an optimist, unabashed by her ceaseless joy of every moment. Beer enhances this. But in general if anyone knew what "living in love" meant it would be her.....And I miss her.

Right now, she's living in Glasgow in an intense and competitive post-graduate program playing Viola. She's from the U.K. originally but lived here, in the U.S., all her life. She just became a U.S. citizen about a year ago. You wouldn't know that she was English until she says the word "banana". If you ever meet her you should ask her to say "banana". It's amazing.

I'm thankful I went to Goucher for lots and lots of reasons...But meeting this girl is way up on the list.

the end.

Oh yeah! Let me blow your mind with some really really nerdy stuff: Today I found out that I have a free life insurance policy at work. I wouldn't take out a life insurance policy because I don't plan on dying anytime soon, and I don't' have anyone to take care of when I die, so, since I have it anyway I was thinking about making my beneficiary my alma mater.

damn

my only 1$ bill was so crumpled and old that the machine wouldn't take it. how am i ever going to get crackers?

Subject: I voted against you: Congratulations
To: president@whitehouse.gov


Dear Mr. President:

I would like to have the chance to let you know how much respect I have for the office that you hold and because of that, how much respect I have for you. And somehow, I disagree with almost every initiative that you have and nearly every point you make and have spent these last four years discouraged and upset with the America I live in.

I am not alone, Mr. President. 49% of voters on Tuesday may have felt the same way that I do. That's why I'm writing this letter.

Yes, I understand that an intern is reading this and it may never get passed along to you in any fashion, but I will still plead with you Mr. President: Please take action in these next four years to unite this country of ours. Take action where we can come together (and for once not in fear or devastation.)
I have hope that you can be a strong leader in many ways that we have not yet seen. I hope you cultivate your other strengths as well as you have your determination and steadfastness. You too, like Kerry claimed to do, could unite our country and our world community. You too, could make us more respected in the world if you chose to. Please choose to do this.

Stay true to the United States Constitution and stay true to United States citizens. All of us, even the ones who voted against you because you represent all of us.

I don't pray very often, but I will be praying for you, Mr. President.

Truly yours,
me
my address
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
...and it's all true.
Yeah, I'm even praying for the guy.

I don't know why I felt compelled to urge the president to compassionate and change, when it's obvious that he won't. But I've felt pretty hopeless recently.

But see, this is my thinking. I believe in the American democratic process. And the devastating thing about Tuesday wasn't that Bush was elected, it was devastating that it seems like our democratic policy worked, and that the majority of American's think he's best for the job. That's a shattering fact. The right felt so distant to me, so foreign. "How could they not see?!?..."

I might have talked to you before about the swinging pendulum of American politics. Like Nixon to Carter or Carter to Reagan. Our nations naturally swings from left to right and back again. When we go too far to the one side or the other, we center ourselves as a nation by looking for a solution to our conservative or liberal woes and swing towards a candidate with opposing views.

This time, I feel like half the nation swung, and the other half stayed still. It's painful. This isn't some political spin I'm putting on things " Two Americas" or anything, It's just the way it feels. I'm really frightened about these next four years.

Most of you are probably wondering why I wrote such a nice letter to President Bush when he makes me so angry. ...I'm(to a great fault) an optimist. Without anyway out of this presidency, I've decided to be hopeful instead of being miserable for the next for years. Hopeful and active.

I get burned over and over again believing in this democratic system as much as I do...Believing that Bush will understand the authority of his is office is not only to defend and intimidate but to inspire.

I don't think that Bush will be successful without more international support. It does matter what the world thinks of us. I'm sick of going other places and having everyone hate Americans. They hate us for a reason. ..Well, lots of reasons.

We'll be hearing things for weeks and months about how he wasn't supposed to be president, how votes were corrupted, how democracy wasn't in full effect (But, let's face it we had those conversations for the last 4 years and it didn't get him out of office any quicker.)

I'm the least militant protester and by least militant, I don't mean that I don't do it or that I won't do it (because I will, that's democracy) but I do it in a really polite way "MR. PRESIDENT, I STRONGLY DISAGREE WITH YOU" haha.

My strongest fears about Bush have to do with upholding our constitution. In his hands, we have a threat of overturning Row v. Wade, A same sex marriage ban amendment, or worse, another unconstitutional war.

I really do have a lot of respect for the President of the United States, who ever he/she might be. I'm patriotic, I love America. I want to see it be made better. That's why all of this is so difficult right now.

Well, maybe I'll get an autographed glossy out of sending the email though....

born in Baltimore raised everywhere

Today I saw a man at lunch struggling with his golf umbrella and said without thinking: do you know Baltimore was home to the first umbrella factory in the united states? This was their slogan: born in Baltimore raised everywhere. The man was frustrated and confused. Why would I tell him this when he can't get his umbrella open? While he is getting wet and has to put his briefcase down in a puddle push the arms of his contraption open. "no, I didn't know that" he said this plainly and as he walked away I heard him say to himself "...And all the years I've lived here..."

Sometimes I wonder how long it would take me to become one of those absolutely insane people. Considering how most of the time I'm a little borderline insane.

Today there was this woman near the hospital where I went to get my id badge. I was tempted by the hot dog stand and got mustard on the sleeve of my sweater. The woman was huddling under an half an awning smoking her cigarette with her arms crossed over her chest. "do you think this will ever come out?" I asked, as though she had known me, all the time, even known that I was famished at 10am and shared a vendor's huge umbrella to scarf it down. She looked at me and fastened her lips tight across her teeth and shook her head. "mustard? Nope."
"forever?" I asked.
"maybe you could Shout it out, or Arm & Hammer, Arm & Hammer works. Maybe no one will notice."
"Really?" I asked
"I wouldn't have noticed unless you flipped up your sleeve to show me."

So here I am out in the world telling old men about umbrella factories and showing a stranger the mustard I got on the cuff of my sleeve.

How long could it possibly take until I'm wearing a sign around my neck and handing out flyers about Jesus shouting about the end of civilization as we know it??

A little cheering up from an old friend

My friend Alex emailed me to let me know that if you misspell my blog address by just one letter you get sent here:

http://www.liveinlove.blogpsot.com/

I'm glad I got a laugh today.

oh dear god.

"Democratic Sen. John Kerry phoned President Bush today to concede the presidential election, a White House aide said. Word of Kerry's phone call came a few hours after White House Chief of Staff Andrew Card announced that the Bush campaign was convinced the president had won." -CNN

in mourning this morning

I was confident that when i fell asleep last night the world woudl be okay and Kerry would win Ohio. Things do not look that simple. I still haven't lost all hope. Not until all the votes are counted...

But I do feel like this picture from BBC:


Why don't we have an election process that we get the same results. We are trusting exit polls that vary for each station or network. This is where BBC said we were when I got back from my meeting this morning:


And even scarier is that both the house and senate will be republican.


sigh.

I feel like it's been so long...

Friday night my best friend mean Jeanne came into town. We stayed up real late talking on the couch till neither of us could keep our eyes open.

The next morning the entourage of boys she drove down with all came over. They departed to go to the thrift store to get some parts of Halloween costumes and I left to help Virginia and Russell clean their house for the wild party that was about to occur. All three of us broke a sweat.

I didn't feel rushed about my costume. I've had all my supplies for over a week now...But somehow when I actually went to build it, it hit some trouble. But that's expected, that's what zip ties and staples are for. That's why bobby pins and safety pins were invented. In the end it looked adorable. I'll post some pictures when I get some.

brain may have had the best costume: he was a space overlord and had his brain in a jar on top of his head. He had this crushed velvet cape and maniacal eyebrows.

Joe dressed as Mario. Fireballs and all. The best part of the night was when Joe met Adam, also dressed as Mario. Two amazing Marios

Russell broke out the Marie Antoinette costume and Michael added to the tribute by being "mandudso" a male version of my 2002 costume.

and then there was Gerry: the walking "jessica's biggest fan" he was wearing a stretch - denim jumpsuit with two airbrushed lovers kissing by a palm tree and the letters J-E-S-S-I-C-A sprawled across the sky. Gerry also wore a hat with my photo on the front.

Jaime was a stewardess from Devil Airlines who sponsored the ONE WAY Flight to HELL on flight 666, the theme of the party.

Virginia was Blossom! Brilliant!

Jeanne was Joan of arc, with torched costume.

Jeanne made Julian this elaborate fly costume with clear wings and arms that moved when he drank beer.

oh the big guy? He ....He was Flava Flav. He's the best.

There was a beatniks, gwenneth paltrow from royal tennebaums, ducks in a row, a crazy straw, some overdosed coke whores, kermit, miss piggy, zoolander and that evil guy, eloise, caveman, ...no store bought costumes, no little bunnies or cats....and over a hundred amazingly dressed people. So many that I couldn't even see everyone's costume. So many that the cops came twice and threatened to arrest Jaime for disturbing the peace. So many that everyone eventually had to leave.

I realized sometime after that I had only eaten two eggs all day and I was certifiable drunk.

I took my little cockroach thorax home and walked back in my shredded pajamas and fell asleep, just remembering to take off my antenna before I finally passed out.

Sunday I spent most of the day on the couch. Can I tell you that there is nothing I love more than a Sunday spent on the couch? In the evening Virginia and Jaime came over and we handed out candy.

Monday was my first day of work and there was a retreat. I found out my Myers Briggs results for my "personality inventory"
it ends up that I am passionate, easily distracted, empathetic, not rational, and extroverted. Do any of these things seem like a surprise?

If you are familiar with the Myers Briggs test I scored an ENFP:

I direct my energy in an extroverted manner:

Extroversion~~~~~ Introversion
social~~~~~ private
expressive~~~~~ quiet
many~~~~~ few
broad~~~~~ deep
interaction~~~~~ concentration
outward~~~~~ inward
action before thought~~~~~ thought before action

I process information according to my iNtuition:

Sensing~~~~~ iNtuition
facts~~~~~ possibilities
experience~~~~~ novelty
present~~~~~ future
practicality~~~~~ aspiration
enjoyment~~~~~ development
realism~~~~~ idealism
using~~~~~ changing

I make decisions based on my personal values (Feeling):

Thinking~~~~~ Feeling
analyzing~~~~~ sympathizing
objective~~~~~ subjective
logical~~~~~ personal
criticism~~~~~ appreciation
onlooker~~~~~ participant
decides on principle~~~~~ decides using values
long term view~~~~~ immediate view

I prefer to organize my life according to my perception:

judgment~~~~~Perception
close~~~~~open
decide~~~~~explore
structure~~~~~meander
organize~~~~~inquire
firmness~~~~~flexibility
control~~~~~spontaneity

And all of these things are true about me. Amazing. Myers and Briggs were a mother daughter team that devoted their life to making Carl Jung's philosophies accessible for everyone to learn from. Pretty neat, huh!

I took a train home last night, borrowed my brothers car slept at my moms house (after previously being locked out for several hours) I woke up at 6:30 and went to the polls and headed for my office down here.

I had to stop and get a TB test for my new job (all Hopkins employees do)I had to fill out paperwork about my insurance. I thought about lying and telling them that I never had cancer. But then I read that I could get fired for that. So I wrote it down. So I wrote ten years cancer free on it, so that it sounded better in my medical history column than just that sneaking seven letter word.

At the polls this morning I ran into a friend of mine's older sister. I asked how K. was, and she is still on treatment for this rare skin malignacy. We lived across the street from each other. Maybe we played with some plutonium together or something when we used to hangout together. I mean WTF? Right?

Voting felt good. It was in my old elementary school.

that's all for now.

Did I tell you I'm exhausted?

~ oh by the way, in spell check the word "jessica's" was suggested to be replaced by "cheesecake".