As She Sees It

Spicy!

2008-06-07T19:55:00.002-04:00

this is so unfair. I had a spicy night and EVERYONE I usually regale with my stories is out of town. geez! my whole family in France, Carrie in Hawaii, and Carolina is somewhere in Europe. I've already repeated a really stupid story about a kid spitting up on my shoes to Krista at least, oh, 3 times. and that's not even a spicy story.

you guys need to come back soon, I don't know how long the spice will hold out.

on a semi-related note, have you ever thought about the window on the house next door to my room? I never thought anything of it, but sometime between 5 and 8 am it was pointed out that probably the old lady could look right into my bedroom. which led me to question many important things, like, would she look? has she looked? and what exactly has she seen? my life has been rather tame since St Patrick's Day, but it's still kind of weird. especially since Carrie, Krista and I spent most of last Saturday evening peeping the naked guy across the street from our balcony. in our defense, if your windows face a major street and you DON'T want to be seen naked, close the shades! the 29th street spice factor is getting better!

xoxoxoBon

The MTA gives back?!

2008-05-18T04:38:00.003-04:00

"After four decades carrying millions of New Yorkers, 44 of the city's subway cars are now home to millions of fish.

The cars, dating from 1964, were among 1,662 that have been retired by New York's Metropolitan Transportation Authority and will be used by a number of states on the U.S. East Coast to create the reefs to buoy local fishing industries."

Read the whole article here and laugh at the sad fact that even with all this goodwill towards the fishies in the ocean, the MTA will still make the N express when it hits Astoria.

xxxAnnie

DAVID BOWIE! ! !

2008-05-17T13:49:00.003-04:00

I just wanted to state the obvious by saying that he's cool, and I dig him, and I can't wait for you to come back so we can watch Labyrinth and The Man Who whatever and sing about chillying down. It was raining ALL DAY yesterday and was so disgusting so I watched Basquiat and man does he do a mean impression of Andy Warhol! His performance brings me to tears. Well, that and the fact that he dies.

Anyways. Carrie, Mikey, and I also participated in an Improv Everywhere mission- whee! Only it was outdoors at night and it was pouring the entire 2 hours it took place. But it was still cool as hell. Go team Charlie Todd!

that is all for now, it is almost 2 pm and I've done a whole lot of NOTHING with my Saturday. delicioso!

xoxoxoBon

The Summer of Babies

2008-05-15T00:54:00.003-04:00

Two years ago was The Summer of Weddings. Now, apparently, all of those couples have had time to appropriately (or inappropriately, what the hell do I know) procreate and we are now entering The Summer of Babies.

HOLY SHIT.

I am frightened. Despite the fact that there is nothing cuter to purchase in this entire world than a onesie, I am very very afraid. Which is probably why I am making out in dark bars with ambiguous guys who don't even have real names. More on that later (when you call). I am warding off babies with a steady diet of drunken text messages and cheap beer. Considering the last guy I brought home was on holiday from Ireland, I would say it's working rather well.

xoxoxoBon

Do I have to come right flat out and tell you everything?

2008-05-14T12:01:00.002-04:00

Just when I was feeling good about life in Lyon-

-the sun was shining

-I'd made peace with not studying for exams

-Abdal the fruit-n-veg man asked me for my number

-the dumbest real-life shit had to drop in and dump itself on my lap.

Today I had to call a lawyer friend and have her write a semi-threatening letter to the bank, go all the way down to the fac to print the thing, come all the way back here to register it (for 4,35E!) and then have a nice long talk with USAA about why my security deposit cannot actually be wired straight to my account and instead has to talk the scenic route via some American version of the French bank somewhere in the US before finally making its way back to me. All with costs incurred, I'm afraid.

I think I'm probably just having a dramatic moment, overreacting to this, but I really -- REALLY -- hate dealing with the bank. All banks. It's always a stressful situation for me and I would do just about anything to avoid it at all costs. Including study.

Alas, if I want to eat this month, I have to deal with the bank. Considering I have only 20E to my name right now, I'm in kind of dire straits. I never thought something like this would happen to me! I'm so responsible with my money! I pay my bills on time! I never overdraw and I always call Mom asking for more!

[To be fair, I do have a little -- verrrry little -- money in my account right now, but it's inaccessible since USAA didn't bother sending my new debit card to my French address, even AFTER I called them specifically requesting that they do so! Chalk another one up...]

But I'm all banked out right now. If I hear anything else about swift codes and ABAs I'm going pull out my bank cards and start slashing. There's only one thing left to do right now -- retreat to my bed with the remainder of my Scottish shortbreads and "study" whilst watching The Princess Bride. Because if hot hot Cary Elwes can't cheer me up, nothing can.

Once Upon a Time I Was a Teacher

2008-04-30T01:19:00.002-04:00

Except that I never got to teach. Or rather, there was no one to teach. Unbeknownst to me, I was hired to recruit students who I would then teach, but no one wanted to be recruited.

So, once upon a time I was a teacher. For about three days, I tried to coerce students into showing up for my class (although why they would want to when they could be getting credit for talking on the phone and instant messenger instead is beyond me).

Now I'm no longer a teacher. And I know I'm not a failure, because I was never even given a class to fail. I know that if I had stayed I would have gotten to a point of frustration in which I would simply break. I know that I would not have slept, would have spent mornings frantically coming up with a strategy and afternoons ripping my hair out at an administration that doesn't give a crap. But this is just another one of those things that brings to mind the ever-present question, "What does it all mean?" Because I wanted my job to mean something. I wanted my actions to mean something more than how I pay the bills. I wanted to inspire. Maybe someday I will, will get a chance to succeed. But for now, I just feel a little sad that I tried my best and I didn't succeed. That I had such high hopes that were never quite rooted in reality. A nagging feeling that I gave up too easily.

I think I did what I do best- I dodged yet another bullet. In relationships, in jobs, in life- I'm getting better at realizing when things just aren't right, and cutting them loose before I get too invested, too hurt. That helps, but it doesn't pay the bills and it doesn't keep me warm at night and it certainly doesn't give me a fuzzy feeling inside.

I guess I'll just have to live with that.

Quote of the trip so far

2008-04-16T15:58:00.001-04:00

Czech shopkeeper: Every woman need boy!

KK: Got one!

Susannah: Yep, no problems there.

Kat: I am a lesbian!

Random Czech woman passerby: (laughs)

It's starting

2008-03-31T15:33:00.003-04:00

First it was the girl I hadn't talked to since our first-year seminar on courtly love.

Then it was an old friend from high school with whom I still occasionally exchange messages.

Now it's someone I talk to often, a person -- people -- I've known all my life.

WHY OH WHY IS THE WHOLE WORLD GETTING ENGAGED?

I'M GOING TO LOSE MY FUCKING MIND

2008-03-26T11:54:00.002-04:00

I JUST got rid of Alicia's friends -- after two weeks of non-stop Spanish people in my TINY apartment -- and now she tells me that THREE MORE OF THEM are coming NEXT WEEKEND.

WHY OH WHY THE FUCK CAN THEY NOT COME WHEN I AM NOT HERE? WHY DO THEY HAVE TO INVADE THIS LITTLE TINY PLACE WITH THEIR NOISE AND THEIR MESS AND THEIR INCESSANT CHATTER AND THEIR STAYING UP LATE????????????????????????

All I want is to be able to come home to a quiet, clean apartment. And maybe invite my own friends over from time to time. And not have to pay out the ass when the electric bill comes because they run their goddamn hairdryers and straighteners all the fucking time.

I know I've had my share of guests -- three of them in one month. But that is three for the whole year, each one at a different time, not three all at once, followed by two more, followed by another three! I am SICK and TIRED of lending out my pillows! I want to sleep in a room that doesn't have two extra people in it! I want to see MY hair cluttering the bathroom sink, dammit, not the follicles of FIVE OTHER PEOPLE WHO DO NOT LIVE HERE NOR PAY THE BILLS!

It would be SO nice if we weren't running a fucking FREE HOSTEL FOR SPANISH PEOPLE out of this apartment.

/end rant

hola, chica!

2008-02-28T19:34:00.002-05:00

you`re asleep in another room of this spanish hostel and i´m still playing on the computer, slightly tipsy. someone just turned off the tv and it´s a little lonely... i already miss cackling in the dark with you! i just hope you haven´t got the earplugs. i have a feeling those aussi boys might make a bit of a ruckus tonight.

probably much easier to put up with than the stink of the jamon, though.

xoxoxoBon
ps we will get the fucker who stole our giant beer yet!

We all know what this is about

2008-02-13T16:24:00.003-05:00

I don't need any more sermons. I'm not as naive as you think. I've considered it all, and more, and made my decision accordingly. Maybe that's hardest for you to take -- that I am knowingly violating the standards you expect from me. I'm sorry your expectations were so unrealistic, but I'm not sorry that I've done what I've done. I'm not sorry for anything except my own carelessness.

Save the speeches to comfort yourself with them. Clearly I am turning out to be the disappointment you never knew you had.

Is there a sign on my forehead saying "Agace-moi"?

2008-02-06T10:27:00.000-05:00

You hear a lot of stories about how Americans in Europe are easy targets for pickpockets and other criminals because of our easy, outgoing nature. Allegedly we walk around with dopey smiles on our faces and every Saimon, Alessio and Igor knows to take advantage of us.

This might be true for other Americans -- maybe the corn-fed, small-town Midwestern cheerleader, or the red-necked, double-denimed hick -- but I don't think it's the same for me. I've spent enough time on the streets and subways of New York to know that an open face leads to an empty purse, and consequently, I'm usually stony-faced or scowling as I hurry to and from my various destinations.

Something must have been different today. As I walked toward the bank, heart a-pounding at the mere thought of them being difficult as usual, a tiny old woman with chin hairs approached me.

"Maison de la Retraite!" she muttered. I couldn't just walk on by -- she was a bubbe! -- but I also had no idea what she wanted (and the chin hairs were distracting me).

"Pardon?" I asked. She repeated herself. I was still clueless, so I explained to her that I am etrangere and didn't understand. Was she looking for a particular street? Well, yes, of course she was, where was it? Her shortness of speech was abrasive and extremely off-putting (as were the chin hairs) and I told her I couldn't help her and moved on.

Of course, after the bank was unhelpful and rude, I was briskly trying to cross the street when a breathless man stopped me in the middle of the road and babbled something about a car being en panne. It was too fast to make out, so I just opted straight for the etrangere route -- and then he started speaking in English (very bad English). Evidently he had forgotten his bank card and needed some money for gas and did I have three euros? No, I did not, and look, the light has turned green and we're about to get run over, bye.

Flustered, I continued home, trying to figure out if there was something out of the ordinary today that made me so approachable, when suddenly I heard grunts from across the street. Stupidly, I looked over to see a man with a cigarette in his mouth waving a box of matches. Was he asking for a light? Did he want to share a smoke with me? I have no freaking clue, because I was so sick of stopping in the middle of my rush to try and comprehend people that I just shook my head and kept going.

I mean, damn! What is going on today? I am already stressed out as hell, wrapped up in my own thoughts, and I don't think that I look particularly friendly! So what gives? I just want to be left alone already! I am so fucking annoyed.

But I don't want to end this post on a bad note, so instead I'll post you a nice picture I took this weekend in Carcassonne.

Isn't it beautiful? This was around sunrise, taken from the Pont Vieux on my way into the lower city.

I hope we will have the opportunity to take many such pictures together, very soon!

xxxAnnie

Regarding my Impending Visit...

2008-02-05T11:06:00.000-05:00

I received this from one of my favorite people the other day, who is coming to visit nyc while I'm away and is the only reason I would wish to be there in February anyways. And because this email was so awesome, I had to post it (also, you are mentioned in it!)

Dear Bon,

Your life as a rogue, European- traveling artist (or dare i say artisan?) is ridiculous. Just plain ridiculous. Ireland? France? I have no idea how to respond, but you'd best send me a postcard or two....
23 days? Ah, the life. Of course I will have to make arrangements to return at a more convenient time for you. Because Sunday brunch and magnolia cupcakes are best enjoyed avec vous. Are you practicing your French yet?

Love you lots! Have fun and tell Susannah hello!
Kemper

Dear Kemper,
I LOVED your email. rogue European traveling artisan? yes, please! never before have I felt so inherently cool being broke and unemployed! I have been trying to practice my french, ma cherie, mais il n'est pas facile! that's probably not even correct. at best, I have been trying to decifer the France-Amerique newspaper that the Alliance Francais sends me... attempting to read it on the subway is semi-useful but mostly just makes me look more interesting. but, please do come back soon and manger avec moi! have a lovely time in nyc :) and I'll eat a croissant in your honor!

loves, Bon

I Took the Popcorn, or, Yet Another Reason Guys are Dicks

2008-01-24T04:29:00.001-05:00

So, I'm at this bar tonight, trying to decide whether to call it an early evening because I am kind of bored or to try to meet some more interesting folks. I end up hanging out with two dudes from the area who seem pretty cool. One of them wanders away after awhile and I'm left with this totally cute kayak-traveling guy. We chat it up about where we've been, what we do, etc. etc. Fast forward through at least 5 beers and Jager shot (against my will, I might add) and we end up splitting the joint with his friend. A stop at the 7-11 for some beers and snacks, and then a search for a hot tub (of course, wouldn't be Sundance without it!) ends up at my place, where the pool/tub closes at 11 pm. Luckily, our resourceful man-boys know a little place across a short ski slope where we successfully "break and enter" said hot tub. Dudes get naked. Yes, naked. I, on the other hand, had the foresight to bring my swimsuit in my bag this year (thank you, foresight) and I put at least half of it on in the dark.

Did I mention that the aforementioned totally cute guy kissed me? Well, he did. So, I'm in this hot tub, swimming around, and the cute dude starts making out with me. A slightly awkward situation, seeing as how his friend is like 2 feet away, but I've had at least 6 or 7 drinks and decide to roll with it. Then...

sketchy friend starts touching my leg. At first I move away and ignore it. Then, get this-
cute guy says, and I quote, "Hey, why don't you give my friend a little love?"

WHAT THE FUCK.

I act all nonchalant and detached while I consider my next move, all the while determined not to end up in a "Fred Situation" where I take so long to figure out how to extract myself that I come off as confused instead of pissed at the audacity of it all. I can't remember what crappy line I ended up saying, but I do remember the cute guy's response: "It wasn't meant to be demeaning, it was meant to be empowering."

LIKE HAVING A THREESOME IS SO EMPOWERING. Is it really? Is that why people do it? Cause I thought it had more to do with sexual desire and BEING HORNY. If I want to be empowered, I will attend another feminist conference with a bunch of lesbians. Or rally against global warming, or fucking go for a run. Or even eat an entire carton of Ben & Jerry's.

Anyways, of course I don't think of these catchy comebacks at the time, so I finally give in to the power of Budweiser and start making out with the cute guy again. I think all the weirdness has kind of passed for a while, then...

you got it, sketchy guy tries to touch me again. At this point, I've got it all lined up: "I don't share, and I don't get shared." HOLLA! These people have it all wrong. I would like to quote myself, "Just because I'm in a hot tub with two naked guys doesn't mean I want to DO two naked guys. If I did, trust me- you would know all about it." At this point I proceed to get out of the awesome hot tub into the below-freezing temperature and try awkwardly to put cold, dry clothes on a cold, wet body. If you haven't tried this, I don't recommend it- it is deceptively difficult! My last words? "Later dudes."

But I took the fucking popcorn. Hell yes, it's not a late night without the Smartfood. And I was not about to leave both my dignity and the popcorn behind.

I could blame myself for somehow getting into these awkward, difficult, and often lonely situations- or I could file this experience away in the "hilarious stories to share with anyone but my mother" and laugh about it. Which I am sure I will. But, I have to let a little doubt creep in... if this is what it means to be in my twenties (and the past few years have shown it to be true), 30 can't come soon enough.

But I took the popcorn, dammit. I got the fucking popcorn.

xoxoxoBon

Live from the Sundance Film Festival!

2008-01-23T22:42:00.000-05:00

yes, I leave tomorrow and I haven't written anything, interesting or otherwise, yet. so here goes...

some things of note:
1- last night I was at this DJ Spooky multi-media thing which involved giant projected images set to the beat of ice (don't ask, I don't think I can explain it very well). anyways there was an entirely new hairstyle there- at first look, a white dude with kind of skimpy bleached blond dreds- but upon further inspection, it was actually a very long mohawk which was dredded. which makes me wonder- did he have dreds first, and shave most of them off to form the mohawk? or did he start growing the mohawk and simultaneously dred it? these are the questions that plague me...

2- I was not allowed into 50 cent's party. hmmph. some crap about being at capacity... to be fair, it was the 5 Utah policemen that told me this. I did however manage to get into some other thing which involved a band, and I met this kind of pretentious local art student (or so he says) who is going to stay at George Clooney's house at Lake Como in Italy after he studies in Florence. normally I wouldn't believe this story, but I get the impression dad is some big shot and therefore this kid can be a professional art student and/or bar goer.

3- list of interesting people I've seen: Robert DeNiro, Jack Black, Emily Blunt, other actors I can't remember the names of, one of the founders of Netflix (as pointed out by Sock), other heads of other important tv/movie things, and probably countless other famous people I can't recognize because everyone is wearing about 12 layers here.

4- I randomly met some dude while getting a beer at a party who worked on the same film as the dude from last year's "hot tub mistakes, episode 2." I declined to tell him exactly how I knew Mr. Hot Tub #2, because I thought it would be rather impolite to kiss and tell.

5- there is no 5. yet. I have high hopes for tonight, as I have been such a good girl this year! the only hot tub I've been in is the one at our lodge, and I was with a 5 year old. oh but this guy drove me home last night and he was super cute! I kissed him on the cheek- twice! (blushing) I should have stayed in that car longer...

I am very very, very tired. but I shall trudge on, as it is my last night in this adult Disneyworld and I must take advantage of it. I will find a hot tub! or at least some boys with booze. tra la la!

xoxoxoBon

Only at Universite Jean Moulin Lyon 3...

2008-01-21T13:51:00.001-05:00

...could one escape from a shady bathroom stall and say "Bonsoir" to one's literature professor, who's going to have a pee in the open urinals.

Oh Dear God

2008-01-15T00:04:00.000-05:00

you come back to the city tomorrow! we can't wait :)

I have lots to tell you, luckily all sorts of good stories that do not involve me acting like a lunatic (at least not the most recent ones!) I have decided that 2008 must be the year I get past my lunacy. some of my old stories have gotten even too much for my hair colorist, whom I got to see today, and he did a mighty fine job I must say. the funky red is back!

ok that's it I have to go pass out now, earlier tonight Ryan and I found a place on the UWS that was not super fratty AND had $1 drafts. what what?!

xoxoxoBon

Regression

2007-12-15T19:22:00.000-05:00

Despite the fact that I finally had another living, breathing (male!) human being in my bed the other night (more about that later), I am now sitting on Sock's couch reading my weekly event emails, realizing that I have the rare opportunity to *more than likely* run into an elusive ex-lover, and actually contemplating doing so.

re·gres·sion n
1. a return to an earlier or less developed condition or way of behaving
2. a going backward or a backward movement or progress, especially through the earlier stages or forms of something
3. reversion to an earlier, less mature, and less adaptive emotional or mental level, often involving the appearance of forms of behavior associated with childhood
4. a process for determining the statistical relationship between a random variable and one or more independent variables that is used to predict the value of the random variable
5. the recurrence of an earlier, less complicated physical type among the later generations of a particular population
6. the apparent backward motion of a celestial body, caused by the differing orbital periods of the Earth and the body being observed
7. the slow movement around the ecliptic of the two points where the orbit of the Moon crosses it.

I pick numbers 1,2,3 and 6, if you could consider me a celestial body. Give me a big SMACK upside the head through the internet now, will you please? If I could just erase this thing, I don't think life would be better or easier, but my emotional state would certainly be much improved. I might actually have a chance at being happy with one (or more) of those complete morons I end up dating. I might not think they are all complete morons.

The dumbest part of all this, is that I have been in the midst of an all-encompassing freak-out for the entire month of December, involving a mish mash of holiday-fair prep & table-manning, babysitting, errands, presents, job interviews, volunteer work, and various other things that plague americans during the holiday season. Nothing new. But this year, unlike the past ones, has not been a get-it-done-and-get-out-of-town situation. It is killing me! And making me crazy! And screwing up my decision-making and stress-controlling skills! And through it all, I am determined to still have fun! Because I am young! And fun! But I have gotten about 10 hours of sleep in the past three nights and I want to crawl into a hole and die! And I can't. And now, after all this crap, I am still thinking about madly dashing from yet another all day fair (tomorrow... when do I sleep?) into the city, to the Meatpacking District, of all places! just because I might have some chance of running into some guy I should have forgotten about some months ago.

I have to stop writing about this, it is depressing me.

On another note, don't ever read that book God-Shaped Hole that had been sitting on my bookcase for about a year. I finally did, and unless you want to cry your eyeballs out over some non-existent people, you should stay away from it. Whole new meaning to tear-jerker. Actually, maybe you should read it so we can discuss it and try to figure out why something so lacking in "real" literary content could have such an emotional impact. Having said that, I have never read past page 10 of a Nicholas Sparks book (thank god! they are truly terrible)- this was better than Nicholas Sparks, but still no Dickens. And yet, I am strangely haunted by it. I think I have somehow entered into a very fragile emotional state, and if I don't get the hell out of here soon, I will be going over the edge.

Hang on until Friday, girl, we can do it... yes, we can, yes... we can.

SAD

2007-12-06T15:52:00.000-05:00

I thought things were getting better. I had my work under control, my Christmas music rolling, twinkly lights and the knowledge that in a few weeks, I'd be home. I was feeling better than I have the whole time I've been here -- consistently good.

Then the rain started. Awkward Igor called. I went a long time without really seeing my best friend here, and my phone shat itself and died. I've lost all inspiration to finish my last leg of work (so close, and yet so far) and all I want to do is curl up and cry.

I've been irritable and snappy all week, but no one's come over with ice cream and Sex and the City and Miller Lite let me bitch to them. I've skipped class and meals and I wake up too early every morning feeling sick. I haven't been sleeping much. All the stress that normally accumulates at this time of year is compounded by the fact that I'm here -- in France, away from all the familiar things that usually help me get through it. It's so much harder.

I know I don't have to wait to be asked, I could go to someone with my stress. But sometimes I want to be noticed. Not questioned or pushed to talk about it -- just acknowledged that I'm having a hard time and maybe some little gesture would help. Even just a smile and a few commiserating words.

I just really miss the people who know me.

So Depressing it's Romantic

2007-12-05T14:24:00.000-05:00

That about sums up what has been happening in my personal life this week. But, one can't be a bohemian without having a dash of romance and a whole slew of drama. However, in this digital age of ours, all I have to show for it is a full inbox. Not quite the same effect as love letters, goodbye letters, any letters. Kind of makes me feel pathetic- like I'm trying too hard to be Carrie Bradshaw or something. Which I'm not. What am I trying to be?

Maybe one day when I'm 97 years old yahoo will still be around and I'll reread these stupid emails and laugh about it. Or maybe I'll laugh about it next week. Right now I just feel romantically depressed. Damn emotionally stunted men, damn them all to hell!

xoxoxoBon
ps- it's snowing again. I'm going to buy a christmas tree. it's going to be just lovely.

First Snow

2007-12-03T01:26:00.001-05:00

It was indeed the first snow of the season today in NYC. And it was simply beautiful. Even though I don't frolick like I used to, it gives me the warm fuzzies just to look out the window, coffee in hand, and see my neighborhood blanketed in something so pure, so clean, so different than the usual dirty shades of gray. I spent the whole day manning my table at our holiday craft fair at Waltz-Astoria (the most darling little coffee shop!) and even though I didn't leave the premises for almost 7 hours, it was just grand. I have to tell you about this sweet, simple day because it is times like these that I hope will provide me with enough good feelings to get through the successive frigid days ahead. After a long clean-up, a cramped ride home in Kevin's clunker, and lugging it all back upstairs, we ordered from Tasty and cackled all night long. The Festing has officially begun!

Even being a broke, single, responsible, old-farty adult, I still truly believe Christmas is the most magical time of the year. And I am reminded that my little life is actually really good, even though sometimes I try and don't succeed, give and don't receive, and love without return. It's okay though- because I can still look out the window at the first snow, and be thankful, and that makes me happy, just being there. I wish this for you too. For all the people I love, and hell- even for all the people I don't love.

xoxoxoBon

ps- this morning I locked Mikey and myself out of the apartment in the snow. thank JESUS Taylor lives above us and won't hate me for waking him up (forever at least)!

Overheard on the N train

2007-12-01T19:17:00.000-05:00

Bringing psychoanalysis to the huddled masses:

Baby Phat #1: yo motha slaps you aroun, right?
Baby Phat #2: yeah.
Baby Phat #1: my motha don't slap me aroun, that's why I don't respect her. If she slapped the shit outta me, I would respect her, y'know? I don't pay her no attention now.

Where did I go wrong?

2007-11-28T02:18:00.000-05:00

Do you know how many guys have blown me off in some various form of communication? By not returning calls, emails, invitations for concerts/food/sex... ? Of course you do. I tell you everything. But here's where I get confused, and sad- I have officially been called heartless for not returning a certain person's phone calls in a truly record-setting time period of TWO WHOLE DAYS.

I date a guy for 5 weeks, bringing my toothbrush to and fro to Brooklyn, and he up and disappears forever. One minute- "We should go to my friend's beach house this summer! I want you to meet my visiting BFF! You smell great!" The next minute- dead silence. I never see him again. I meet "the future love of my life" and have an amazing date that lasts for about 17 hours. Despite the fact that he tells me he wants me to carry his children at one point in the evening, he has personal issues and takes a hiatus from the enigmatic concept of "us" for a while. Much to my surprise, he comes back, via a positively sweet email two months later- and promptly disappears as quickly as he came. No returned call, email, nothing. I spend half my time trying to meet the right guy, and the other half of my time crying over all the wrong (most wrong, wrong-est) ones. And for this I get- after months, nay years, of being shat on- a shitty email basically telling me how shitty I am being for shittily not returning a couple shitty phone calls.

Excuse me a moment, while I just implore the universe: WHAT THE FUCK ?

It's not enough that I feel bad for being left by the rare dude I actually give a flying fuck about. No, I am destined to lead a life feeling sad for being left, and guilty for leaving. It's enough to make a girl want to give it all up. But I've tried that before, and look where it's gotten me- exactly nowhere. I despise dating. But what's the alternative? Live a solitary life, acquiring cats and marking pivotal milestones with a blogpost instead of real conversation with an actual human being? Just like my so-called career, I have no idea where I'm going or why I'm here anymore. Though that makes it sound like, at one point, I actually did know. In reality, I never knew- I've simply hoped that one day, something truly magical would happen and things would start to make sense.

I've never been the kind of girl to be defined by a man, but I am deathly afraid of being defined by lack of one.

And now, despite nothing but my best intentions, I am somehow being labeled not only hopeless, but heartless too. For once, I'd like to go back to just hopeless.

xoxoxoBon

I haven't eaten anything yet this morning, either.

2007-11-26T04:13:00.000-05:00

Last night I dreamed about decorating the Christmas tree.

I want to come home.

xxxAnnie

Marching Bands of Manhattan

2007-11-13T10:58:00.000-05:00

listen to it. if you need a good cry, because whenever I need a good cry, I do. and then surprisingly, it always manages to make me feel just a little better.... last night I put fresh sheets on the bed, cracked open the epic book that I love but seem never to have the chance to finish, and had an all-out Death Cab for Cutie listening marathon. journal by the bedside just in case I felt inspired.

the point is, I love this song. and it reminds me of you. and it reminds me of other things, times, that I needed to feel like someone would open their arms and give me the city I love best, the city that gets cold in November, that makes me cry on long days, that won't let me leave. that gives me the best things and the worst things, the best times and the worst times, but still will never let me even think I would ever want to leave.

because it is a beautiful view, if you take the time to look around. it is really a beautiful view.

xoxoxoxoBon

Because I needed to laugh/cry

2007-11-12T15:54:00.001-05:00

http://pickaride.com/what-are-they-saying

Where the Shit have you been? NEW BLOG!

2007-11-07T00:49:00.000-05:00

And yes, that is Shit with a capital S. I know you've been busy with, you know, all that uber-cool stuff people do when they live in France (things like purchasing baguettes from the boulangerie, carrying said baguettes under one's armpit, eating said baguettes in the park avec beurre, and dancing to euro techno with ambiguous foreign boys of course), but you better get in touch before I get all You Pay More Attention to Our Other Sister and needy and whiny and shit. Not that I'm not already being needy and whiny... I embrace that side of my persona. I really do. But I've been avoiding Skype because I'm hiding from a (former?) client (can it be considered hiding when she's the one who has refused to pay you, and you are slowly going broke and quickly getting screwed, and therefore you don't want to have to see her online because then you know she's still alive and it makes you want to fly across the Atlantic to another country and rip her eyeballs out?).

Anyways. I also want to let you know that in your absence from this blog, I've been forced to start another one. Actually, as stated in a facebook post, I consider blogging my 8th career. I'm not sure what the other 7 are yet, but I know I've started many careers so I must have a pretty good list going. Also, I have high hopes (perhaps tragically) that my Google Ads will take off and people will start clicking on them at a rate of 5 trillion per minute and I will quickly become a self-made millionaire and able to work while sitting on the toilet.

So go here! Read about (what else?!) me being broke and semi-employed in the most expensive city in the world!
http://onthecheapnyc.blogspot.com/

Wheeeee! Maybe it can be a joint venture when you return to me :) Though at the rate you're posting, it's not likely I'll let you in on such a lucrative scheme.

xoxoxoxoBon

Summer Eye Candy

2007-10-29T13:08:00.000-04:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! in honor of you and your day, I have attached a happy memory from our time together so you can imagine me doing a pole dance for you, right now. There are a couple more pics I found rather cute so enjoy! And we can't wait to have you back in our city soon!

hope your day is full of candy and roses and sunshine and Indian food!
xoxoxoBon

A Tour of Nice

2007-10-12T04:34:00.001-04:00

A little pictorial on my fabulous weekend!

This is me and Kels by the waterfall that was about 2/3 of the way up the big hill we climbed right by the beach. It was nice to cool off in the mist!

Of course, the beaches here have no sand -- only rocks! I already told you that I picked up a bunch of beautiful glass, and somehow managed to throw it all away.

Apparently, in France, they eat Smurfs.

And beer-flavored ice cream! No lie.

We went to four museums in one day. The best was probably the Chagall museum.

This was our lunch for that day -- which we ate at 5:30 p.m.

I turned into a Roman wife for awhile.

Right before trespassing into one of the off-limits parts of the ruins.

I saw this creepy Jesus in an old Franciscan church. There was also a mummy of Ste. Victoire, but I did not take a picture of that, because it would give me nightmares and probably the worst karma ever.

How beautiful is it? I will definitely be back sometime this year (springtime?), if only to get more glass. Wanna come with?

xxxAnnie

Staying Dry in Starbucks

2007-10-11T16:53:00.001-04:00

yep, sorry Joe, Oleput, and all the other indie coffee houses I love, and love to support. It's pouring out, and I can pick up the free Union Square wifi in this here Starbucks. for the low low price of $7.61, I've sold out (and bought an overpriced, but still tasty, chicken curry salad).

however, I have a few interesting things to note:
1- on Tuesday I went for a run in Astoria Park (oh! how I love thee!) and witnessed a movie being filmed on the playground. according to Raymond, the park employee I made friends with, it involved Lisa Ling and a very tasty breakfast (that apparently, some other joggers who awoke earlier than I were fortunate enough to enjoy). Funnily, not more than a moment before coming upon the mass of film crew vehicles, I was in the process of looking for an inconspicuous bush to puke my brains out- I am way out of shape. Thank god I decided to hold it in.

2- yesterday nothing good happened until I went to Rodeo Bar w. Carrie, Keaton, and Carolina to see M Shanghai. Which was an awesome show, especially since they played my favorite song RIGHT WHEN I WANTED THEM TO. I knew it! I am getting uncannily good at predicting (or rather, "visualizing") songs and subway trains, and am hoping one day this talent for positive attraction will carry over to healing my shoulder injury (which is pissing me off more than ever right now) and reconnecting with the long lost love of my life.

3- while I was posting something on Etsy here in the Starbucks, two girls from New York Magazine approached me regarding a short article they are doing on people who write on their computers in Starbucks. They asked me to quote the first sentence of what I was writing, which luckily was "One of a kind, hand silk-screened long sleeve black t-shirt." Pretty good marketing for the old B.Sharpe Designs if it actually makes it into the mag, no? I will shit my pants if my quote gets quoted. Last time I gave quotes (for a piece on the iphone in the Wall Street journal), my interview didn't make it into the article :( But hey, I guess between the Poison music video and the Today show, I've had more than my 15 seconds of fame already.

that's about it for now, oh look this nice little man in a green apron is coming over to offer me a free sample of cake right now! I may have just changed my opinion on selling out.

xoxoxoxoBon

A Change of Station

2007-10-10T06:49:00.000-04:00

I've been here almost six weeks now, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it.

It's hard for me to admit that I don't absolutely LOVE France, and I NEVER want to leave and it's the BEST PLACE EVER. I honestly thought it was going to be like that from day one. But all the stress of the last few weeks -- the money I've had to lay out, the inability to express myself or understand others, the most shitteous roommate ever -- has blighted what should be one of the most exciting times of my life.

It's made me think of home a lot more than I probably should. I really can't wait for Christmas. I am already feeling rueful that I'm missing the State Fair, my birthday (my 21st!), Halloween and Thanksgiving. These are the things I've used for the last 20 years to define my life, to work my schedule around and to get excited about. In fact, I'm hardly ever as excited about Christmas as I am about Halloween. But right now, Christmas is the brightest thing in my future.

This is not to say that I'm not having fun. Especially now that I have a place I can truly call home, I am relaxing and enjoying myself. Nice was amazing last weekend. This weekend I'll be cooking grits for French kids and watching the semi-finals of the Rugby World Cup. In a few weeks, I'm off to London and then after that, the Beaujolais for the release of the new wines. In between there I might even fit in a trip somewhere else -- Belgium, Germany, Italy. Who knows?

This is a beautiful country, and when they're not making me want to tear my hair out in frustration, the French are wonderful people. But I miss NC weather, and biscuits and cheap laundry. I miss going out in my sweatpants without feeling everyone's eye on me. I miss the One Spot. I miss Chapel Hill, with the football games and late-night Cosmic and shitty frat parties, and a last semester of sneaking around to get alcohol. I miss home, with Mom and Dad and Peaches and my little sister who needs a best friend more than ever. I miss New York, and 29th Street and cheap bagels (and bagels at all!) and real subways.

In fact, being here has made me rethink my post-graduation plans. I'm not so sure I want to take two years off and join the Peace Corps now. I might enjoy it, but I don't know that I would really love it. And spending two years doing something I don't really love is just wasting two years. And I love New York. I really do. Living there this summer only reinforced the notion that I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to move there after I graduate. Besides Chapel Hill, it's the only place right now that I truly want to be.

So prepare for me! Because I think I'm a-comin. Don't know what I'll do. But at least I know where I'll be, and who I'll be with.

xxxAnnie

Wasting Time

2007-10-08T23:49:00.000-04:00

I waste a lot of time. When I'm feeling responsible, it seems a little ridiculous, how busy I am and how much time I actually waste- and even how much time I am aware of the time I'm wasting. I feel guilty. But why should my life be only about work? Just because I have about three million different "jobs" at any given moment, why shouldn't I be able to waste time?

I don't know. We all waste time. In little ways, in big ways, everyone wastes time- whether they're aware of it or not, whether they consider it wasting time or not- it might not be a waste to the individual, but someone else would surely see it that way.

My point is this: no matter how much time I waste reading blogs, browsing facebook photo albums, looking at other people's wedding pictures, editing MySpace, whatever- there are certain wastes of my time that I could never give up, lest I forget who I am and start to hate my life again.

I have to sit here and listen to Death Cab for Cutie with the window open. I have to lay sideways on my bed and feel sad for a moment, then pick myself up like I always do and remember how grand it all really is. I have to re-read, and then write in, and then re-read again my journal and try to piece together how I got here. I have to re-read emails. I have to turn off the lights while the music plays, even though I will never be able to fall asleep with it on, just to hear the song by itself and not be distracted by anything but the darkness. I have to do these things, because if I don't, I will lose sight of what my life really means and things won't make sense anymore. So even though I operate my life billing my hours to a laundry list of clients, day in and day out, constantly organizing where I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to be doing at any given moment, I never quantify the time I waste staring out my window at the skyline, or listening to Red Right Ankle on repeat, or just trying to get back to feeling real the best way I know how.

I don't know why I had to write this out, why I had to reason my little personal habits- I guess I just wanted to tell someone. I guess I just wanted someone to know me a little better. To know the tiny, insignificant things I do when no one is looking. I guess I just want someone to really know who I am.

xoxoxoBon
ps- We finally got our wireless network up and running- and I aptly named it "cackle." Oh, how we cackled...
pps- I want to hear all about Nice!

Smartfood

2007-10-03T01:20:00.000-04:00

is all over my bed. might be time to do some laundry. ah, just another day on 29th street....

so, please be around tomorrow am (my time)! cause I will get up around 9:30 or 10 I think, and make it a point to be around til at least 12. in the afternoon I have to go to Dr. T, whom I picture as being like Mr. T except he probes you. so, naturally, I'm slightly terrified. on Thurs my morning begins with a lovely bikini wax, followed by lunch with Kaveri at Bite (so excited! have been missing Bite, and Kaveri, terribly!), then on to yoga where I hope not to collapse into the side plank and injure my shoulder further as I did last week. so, tomorrow is our best bet for a good skackle. oh, how I do need it!

better hit the sheets now (sans popcorn)- I can feel the yearly fall cold coming on :(

xoxoxoBon

Where the hell are you?

2007-09-30T19:11:00.000-04:00

You've been mia since I talked to you last week. As Kelly would say, What the hell??

Anyways, this weekend I made it a point to not mope around the house like the last one, so instead I went the exact opposite direction and stayed out until after 4 am both nights, like the drunken fool I truly am. Let's just say the activities involved a lot of substance abuse and were rated somewhere around PG-13. I haven't smoked a cigarette since college, I think, and now I remember why... between that, the hookah, and some homemade absinthe, my mouth tasted a little like I would imagine a dumpster to taste. However, I did manage to convince a dude to make me brownies (with walnuts!) at 3 am on Friday night and I'm pretty sure I've gotten the post-heartbreak-wild-child-ness out of my system for a while. Now I can safely go back to hanging around the apartment with my Blockbuster Home Delivery and HBO On Demand and not feel like I'm missing anything, other than waking up at 1 in the afternoon feeling like a jackass.

Broken English is finally out on DVD! Carrie and I have watched it twice in the past 24 hours. Ah, my heart... Julian...

xoxoxoBon

Idea: Let's dig up some old journals!

2007-09-26T17:03:00.002-04:00

The other night I was going through all my boxes of art supplies, trying to feel inspired, when I came across an old drawing journal from when I was, like, 19, and had to draw/write random crap daily for Art 120, and spent most of my time wondering if my teacher would even look at the whole thing, and if he did, would I fail whatever cruel test required students to draw constantly, even when they were completely uninspired?

And I found this gem, under a picture of my foot:

November 28, 2002
today we had some turkey and french wine and lots of other really good food. i do not feel at all bad for the turkey or vegetables. we gave them a good home in our stomaches.

this, unfortunately, was the highlight of the journal, unless you count the series I drew of my hand in various positions, which were quite good- but here I am, 5 years later, thinking I should have drawn my hand doing sillier things than holding a book or clenching my fist. it would have been funnier if I was, say, stirring a drink with my cellphone antenna (which I used to do quite often), or pulling someone's hair, or even picking my nose. maybe if I had been picking my nose more often, I would have found love (O Tell Me the Truth About Love!). now I can't pick my nose! what will become of me? I'll have to ride more buses and hope people step on my feet.

tangent. want turkey. signing off now.
xoxoxoBon

Good things come to those who read

2007-09-26T17:03:00.001-04:00

You know (as mostly everyone else in my life does) that I've been feeling a little down lately. Scratch that, I've been feeling a lot down. But, despite the fact that the world is a sad sad place, and life pretty much sucks, and all that, I know that it is high time that I get my sorry ass the hell up off the kitchen floor (figuratively, of course- most of the time) and quit feeling sorry for myself. I also know that in 24 years, despite the fact that I have had some extreme lows, I have been handed an arsenal of things that are proven (through my extreme highs) to kick the shit out of my sadness and make me realize how insignificant all this truly is. In a good way. So, I go through my list, piece by piece, hoping that these tried-and-true measures (writing, painting, running, playing with the kids, etc.) will get me through it, yet again. And I try lots of not so great measures (drinking profusely, crying profusely, um... yeah. not proud of my bad habits. but honest.) And, actually, even though from a rational standpoint, I know I should be able to boost myself, I really can't. I have been having a really hard time.

So, despite my skepticism, I picked up Katie's copy of The Secret a couple days ago. And as a purely scientific experiment (cause hell, what have I got to lose?) I tried the whole "law of attraction" positive-thinking thing out for a night. And, it could just be that I am the kind of person who looks for a sign in EVERYTHING, or it could be that it actually worked.

At any rate, I went to the Kate Nash show by myself, which I knew I had to do- not only because I really really like Kate Nash lately, but because I know it's good for me to do things by myself, to foster my independence. I went, and it turned out that there was no longer a $15 cover- it was free because Kate didn't get her US work visa in time (she's a Brit) and couldn't charge. Which is unlucky for her (though who really cares, she's got a major record label behind her), but seemed to be my reward for trying to be positive and doing something with myself besides going home with a bottle of wine. So, I'm staking out a spot at the bar, getting my personal groove on, and the bartender accidentally pours a Guinnesse for someone- oops, all the sudden it's mine!

Now maybe some people might not take a free concert and one lousy beer as a sign, but you know that I'm actually a big hippie at heart, so I will admit that it was a huge boost to my faltering emotional balance. Maybe that sounds sad, but you gotta take away what you can from situations, you know?

So I'm taking this. I'm going back to my original "everything happens for a reason" outlook on life, because that is the one thing that makes it possible for me to get out of bed in the morning. But I'm going to try really hard to stop crying over not knowing the reasons, and focus instead on the fact that I'm alive, and I can revel in a concert even alone, and I can at the very least try to control my destiny. If not my destiny, then my emotions. If not my emotions, then the most superficial of all things, the way I choose to interact with the rest of the world.

I don't know if I believe any of that The Secret crap. It's a bit much for even a self proclaimed hippie to stomach. But I do know one thing- that anything that can get me out of my own head, keep me from being locked in my misery, well- that can't be bad.

I hope you're feeling better. I think I am.
xoxoxoBon

Elmo is my Copilot

2007-09-20T09:28:00.000-04:00

For the first time in over two years, I have cable! And I'm watching....

Sesame Street.

wtf?

I wish life weren't so... Sad

2007-09-20T00:11:00.000-04:00

I don't really have anything profound to say, as you probably realized after reading the title of this post. Life is sad. We realized it when our grandparents died, when someone broke our hearts, when we witnessed major mental breakdowns and when our dreams didn't come true. And it will keep happening. Because life is sad. Because the world is sad. And it makes me sad.

No wonder artists have been trying for thousands of years to make it better, brighter, more bearable- it makes sense that the most talented are truly tortured souls, if not tortured then how would they have enough courage to try so hard to change this despair?

I want more than courage. I want power. I want a means to lighten the load. I want... I want... I want to not be sad. But more than that, I want the truly desperate to be a little less desperate, a little happier, just a little.

I know this is making about as much sense as, hell, I don't know, a freaking leprechaun. I've been drinking. Which probably accounts for the leprechaun comment. I'm just sad. Just sad. That's all, nothing so very new. Just wishing I could be a little more useful.

I should put away the alcohol and go to bed. I've got a conference skype at 8:30 and a skype-date with you after (yippee! the only thought that truly brings me joy this week!). Maybe in the meantime, you could just pray for me... and everyone else who is sad, too.

xoxoxoBon

If I Could Bottle This

2007-09-18T14:36:00.001-04:00

It would be green and amber and smell like dried leaves and baby cheeks. If I could bottle this, this most perfect autumn day, I could take it out and uncork it when I'm feeling weak and weepy, and it would be magical. It is magical.

Sitting at a picnic table in the sunlight filtered through the turning leaves, arms outstretched on the warm wood, only myself and Angela and the two blond babies we love, we weren't in New York City anymore. We were alone in this park, in this place, in this magical land of September. I thought about the delicate balance I always try to keep my life in, this delicate balance of happiness and hard work and a little melancholy, trying all the time to keep myself in "a good place," whatever that actually means. When I'm finally in a good place, it's so good- even if it's not happiness, particularly, it becomes happiness- because I'm content, and it's alright, and it's right. And when something happens that throws off the delicate balance and I'm no longer in that place, that beautiful, fragile emotional state, it is so damn hard to get it back.

Things like September and sunlight and the colors when I close my eyes, and the music when I lay my head down, these are the things I know can bring me back to my place, bring me back to me. I just have to keep finding them, and recognizing them, and cherishing them as long as they last, however long or short that may be. I have to keep being blessed by them, and knowing my blessings. I have to keep trusting, no matter how hard or scary it is, that I will be blessed again. I will. It is my destiny to appreciate the tiny, wonderful things in this world more and more, until not a day goes by that I don't feel amazed or in awe. We should all be this way- in awe of all that is around, because while there is a lot of ugliness in this life, there is far more beauty. Sometimes it's fleeting. Sometimes it's painful. Sometimes it's scary as hell. But none of it should be taken for granted.

These moments- this is what makes my strange, confusing, lost little life make sense. Every once in a while, it starts to make sense.

xoxoxoxoBon

Wherein Jump Little Children simultaneously ruins and redeems my entire Life

2007-09-17T13:44:00.000-04:00

Matthew Bivins, you cruel cruel tease! I can't help but hate to love you! Even when you've been long gone from my sitelines, you somehow manage to break my heart still... I had found a fellow lover of his sexy ambiguity, his hot pink guitar, his unpretentiously grandiose stage presence. After reminiscing about this band that epitomized my formative years, and epitomizes these years after, still, we cackled for many hours and I fell hard and fast and thought nothing more than "I'm in trouble!" and nothing less than "how lovely, our glasses match!" And I owe it all to those super-humans we know as Jump, this lovely hippie-dippie theory that music always brings the right people together!

oh boy. In trouble indeed. In a world of manic, weepy, sleepless, JLC-induced trouble. Nothing else to do but listen to Between the Dim & the Dark album and reread my stupid journals, wondering where it all went horribly awry. Matthew Bivins, where are you now? You rocked my world! You gave me the soundtrack to both my joys and sorrows! You led me to a fellow fan and then you left me feeling more icky and miserable than I have ever felt before!

I might have to replace you, Matt, as my go-to guy for these rollercoaster-y emotional wreckage-y times. You have led me astray. But I could never leave you now... one day you and your pink guitar might just show up downtown, right? Benjamin Apple saw one of you wandering around in Union Square last December- you must be around here somewhere, sometime. Until then, tell me you love your guitar and put me out of my misery.

xoxoxoxoBon
ps- this cool new hat I'm wearing? yeah, it's cause I haven't showered since Saturday night and my hair looks like shit. don't tell anyone.

Wherein pictures try to make up for the fact that I've been neglecting you lately

2007-09-15T05:57:00.000-04:00

This is from my first night out in Lyon. Elizabeth is a fellow American, and it was her 21st. Because I was the only one who understood the full significance of this, I made her do shots. This was the prettiest, but apparently it tasted like mouthwash.

This is the Cathedrale St. Jean, in Vieux Lyon (the old city). I haven't been inside yet, but I think it's very nice even with the scaffolding. The day this was taken there was an art fair in the place with lots of pottery and sculptures. There was also tons of awesome food (like real Belgian waffles) and a rather crappy band which played Hava Nagilah.

There was also this guy. Yes, he is dressed up as a penis. Priya and I couldn't even keep our eyes open, we were laughing so hard.

Evidently in France there is a tradition called "Enterrement du jeune fils", whereby all men about to get married have to get dressed up and embarrassed by their friends in public. Clearly, it takes on a sexual tone (as another friend had the pleasure of being serenaded by someone in a bee costume singing out the rigidity of a certain body part).

This has definitely been my favorite picture so far.

This is the club we went to last weekend. I suppose they thought they should translate "route" to English, despite the fact that it is also an English word. The whole decor of the place was "American", right down the Bud Lite signs, and they even had most of an airplane hanging from the ceiling, which was rather cool. The music, of course, sucked for most of the night, but we danced anyway.

After all, we had to teach them Europeans how to! You really can't tell from photos, but I'm sure you remember how bad the dancing was in Italy. This guy was from Strasbourg, and he was obsessed with Frances (whom you cannot see since she didn't want evidence that any of this had taken place). You might think he looks like a toolbag now, in that knitted sweater vest, and you'd be right -- but only partially. You see, this rare breed of loser was also wearing -- and I am not kidding you -- a black, lacy thong. He hiked up his vest many times that night just to show us how high the thong sat on his waist.

And he claimed to be straight.

It was really the most disturbing part of the night, except for perhaps this next picture...

...wherein "non-gay" dudes grind with each other on a large speaker, and other questionably-real dudes dance with spaghetti arms galore and perhaps some cases of St. Vitus' dance thrown in for good measure.

You really had to see it to believe it.

Meanwhile, I got likkerred up enough to get up on the speaker and dance myself (at this point, they were playing Shakira, Sean Paul and some old Beyonce, so I could justify it in saying that it wasn't bad techno). The short guy is Rami, a kiwi of indeterminate sexuality but who was actually quite a good dancer and really fun to have around for that essential male presence. I don't think I'm a very good dancer (Lisa will tell you I suck) but I can say with good conscience that I was much better than any of those French girls, whose idea of rhythm was little more than the feet-apart, feet-together kind of thing we did in middle school. Ugh.

Just to wrap up, a picture of me and Priya. She lives downstairs from me and we met on the first day of orientation. I pretty much live at her place half the time now too, since it's cozier and she doesn't have a roommate. Also, she cooks some of the best Indian food ever, and you know how I am about that. She's even invited me to London in November to celebrate Diwali -- I can't wait! It's nice to have a great friend here, even if she's leaving in January to go to Valencia.

And that, my dear, is a wrap. At least till next week. The pictures, I'm sure, will keep coming. This place is amazing, and the only thing that would make it better is, of course, your presence. So think about that visit!

xxxAnnie

Skype Me, Baby!

2007-09-13T11:49:00.000-04:00

yeah, baby, yeah! skype me!

bsharpe77 (how original, I know)... what the hell is yours??

I miss you alot, still. which is really funny to me, since you know, I loved you before you lived here and all (well, geez- you're my sister!) but I hadn't lived with any of y'all since high school so I kind of had no idea we'd become best friends when you moved in. god I sound like a cheeseball.

my point is this- I miss telling you all my dumb stories and even the not so dumb ones I just don't want to tell anyone else. so please, please become available to me again, in some capacity!

also I can't just use Skype to deal with the crazy Italians working on my latest project, I need to be able to have a little fun too :)

xoxoxoBon
ps- what is your address?? I haf somesing for youuuu!

In the Wile-derness

2007-09-12T14:57:00.001-04:00

Last weekend the roommates and I went camping on Fire Island, which was probably the best idea we have had all summer. We were only there a little over 24 hours, but I have many funny stories anyways- not the least of which involved me racing through the dark dunes to retrieve a stick (just call me Peaches!) and stomping hard on a large stump of some sort, ripping the bottom of my foot apart and totally BITING IT in the sand. I mean, girl- I had a mouthful. We had the good fortune to meet these two Ecuadorian guys who led us to "the wilderness" (pronounced wile-der-ness)- where we could camp in the dunes for free, away from pretty much all civilization. We were even farther down the beach into the wilderness than the stark-naked sunbather man. We taught the Ecuadorians how to play Mad Libs (adult version of course) and Truth or Dare (which ended up being the adult version as well, ha!). We ate tuna and listened to trippy foreign music on Pedro's "soundsystem." We had a fuckin good time.

Tell me French stories! I know you've got em!

xoxoxoBon
ps- I went on the best date of my life last night. I say this in all seriousness- when I go on a good date, it's no joking matter. This one was good. He is the funniest person I have ever met. He knows/likes JLC. He's southern. And he wears glasses. I just might be in love. Keep your fingers crossed hard- you know my track record.

Kids say the darndest things!

2007-09-07T12:33:00.000-04:00

well, they do! but- you thought this was going to be a post about the latest Maddi-ism? no way. that kid is hilarious, but today is all about me. actually it's not... I've worked everyday this week (just like all the other regular adults out there, how terribly depressing!) and I haven't got enough "me time" (remember that from camp? that hour in the afternoon where we were supposed to write letters and read books but was really just an excuse for the counselors to take a nap or a quick shot of whiskey?). anyhow, I have missed yoga, and my sanity! sort of. being with the kids is great, it's just being with the kids all day and then coming home to stare at InDesign on my computer screen for 4 more hours that is not so great on the brain, or the eyeballs.

my point is this (and you thought I didn't have one! you were probably right.) I have such a bad habit of saying dumb things to strangers! I went to this opening at a gallery last night, where Michael's new, cute, sweet, southern! boyfriend works, and the art was amazing (the wine wasn't half bad either, teehee!) Brent introduced me to the artist, and I opened with a typical "nice to meet you, your show is great, your art is fantastic!" or some reasonable facsimile of that. he thanked me for coming, wherein I promptly thanked him for.... painting. how dumb is that? so dumb, in fact, that I immediately blurted out "wow that sounded really dumb," as if he couldn't decide that for himself. I always do this though, I go and say something inane and then I immediately point out how dumb I sounded, making myself sound even dumber. dumb and dumber. geez.

well, regardless, the show was super cool- the artist did these absolutely mesmerizing paintings on geometrical blocks of wood that basically gave you this incredible "magic eye" sense of perspective, but kind of backwards- like your eye would see something receding but that corner would actually be painted on a protruding block of wood. it was super trippy- god help the poor soul who came to that show on drugs! unfortunately, the cheapest work was in the low 5-figures (as if the word "low" can even go in the same sentance as "5-figures") the highest price tag? I think somewhere around $80,000. the artist was this old, eccentric gay man in a white suit who probably only tolerated talking to me at all because Brent had sold so much of his work, but I was "art-struck" anyways.

I don't have much else to report, I have been working lots and feel like there's so much on my plate! but it's a good thing, because I am one million times happier right now than I was a year ago. though I do miss you so! oh and I went out for good Thai with that guy- the food was fantastic but I smelled crazy all over him! it was fun though- afterwards I met Carolina in Brooklyn for an electro-rock show thing that was wildly amusing and the venue even played hip hop and old Motown in between acts so I could shake it for a bit. damn does shakin it feel good! I also shook it the next night on the Ryan Montbleau booze cruise (yippee!) and the night after at Water Taxi Beach (shoes off, sand on). who knew you could have so much fun not going anywhere for Labor Day?

I was going to ask you how yours was, but then I realized that it wasn't Labor Day in France. c'est la vie... I'm sure things are going swimmingly for you anyways and I can't wait to hear all about your terribly exciting adventures!

xoxoxoBon

Bonjour de France!

2007-09-01T11:27:00.000-04:00

First off, may I just say that everything associated with Google is in French -- including this blog. How funny! Just typing something into my Google toolbar takes me straight to google.fr. Only one of many culture quirks (no shocks yet) which has come up.

Obviously, I am now in la belle France. I think I sent you a hasty email yesterday, but that was before the man at the cybercafe sold me an Internet cable and I could log on from the privacy and convenience of my own laptop.

So yeah -- that's what happened. Here's what else happened, in as Campbell's Soup-y format as I can:

I got on the plane in Philly and waited an hour on the runway to leave.
I didn't sleep at all on the plane, and was also extremely bored for about 1/3 of the time, as my little television was broken and the flight crew took about 2 hours to fix it.
I got to the TGV station at Charles de Gaulle about 40 minutes later than I'd hoped, and found out that the next train to Lyon was at 1 p.m. -- which would mean missing my deadline of 3 p.m. at my apartment building.
I opted to take a train at noon from Paris -- so I had to ride the metro into the city, switch trains and then wait around for an hour at the Gare de Lyon.
I got on my train, sort-of enjoyed the 2-hour ride (I was feeling nervous about making it on time) and got off in Lyon.
I got a taxi (no dispatcher!) and it took about 30 minutes to get to my place from the train station, partly because the tunnel we needed to take was closed.
The taxi charged for lifting my bags in and out of the trunk, so I only tipped him a euro. :( I did not feel that bad, although he was an old man and he did listen to Frank.
I rang the bell at my apartment -- no answer. Again -- no answer. This went on for three minutes, as I panicked and tried to think of what I could do -- until someone came out and I got in that way.
I met a New Zealander named Fergus, who told me that the landlord was showing someone their room. I waited and the landlord came back -- he seemed as stressed as me, although at least he'd slept the night before.
I got my keys -- but only after finding out that I need a French bank account, cash for this month's rent and taxes and some piece of paper from the university ASAP.
I came in, sighed with relief, and got down to business -- out to the Monoprix to get toilet paper, etc. and to the cybercafe to tell everyone I was okay. Thank goodness they sold me an Internet cable, because otherwise I'd be screwed -- I can't figure out French keyboards and couldn't log into my UNC email account. Oy.
I ate some chips, Cheerios (so expensive! But the other cereals looked like crap) and a bottle of jus d'orange (just 50 cents at ED, the discount grocery store!), took a bath (weird bathtub with shower-on-a-cord thingy), poked around online, and then went to bed at 8 -- and I only woke up at noon! Lovely.

Then today I went downtown (over the rivers? Under them, at least) to the Manufacture des Tabacs (I guess they once packaged cigarettes or something here), where the university is located. I didn't find it, but I did find a Franprix! So I stocked up on needed items like juice, cookies, tapenade and some of those cute pre-packaged salads (like tabbouleh -- yum!). Some teenagers outside the metro tried to bother me for money, but I put on my meanest New York blank stare and walked on by. The metro is so cool! It's very short, but the cars are nearly all window, so I could look straight out the front or the back! They also have weird butt-seats to lean onto (but too high to sit on), in addition to regular seats -- and no poles or straps but the occasional waist-high pole thing (not very useful, I'd think). I also never had to wait more than a minute for a train (although, granted, I only rode twice today).

Tonight I'm going out for dinner/drinks with Fergus, the New Zealander, and some other international students. I am sort of nervous (my French really is not that good), but I am also excited. I like my new hood (I'll send pics when I can), it's kind of Queens-like in the sense that there are no shady vagrants and the park is a bit run-down and there are a lot of interesting little shops about (like the afro-americaine beauty parlor down the block) and it's not snooty like perhaps the center-city would be. My apartment is really small (bedroom, living room, bathroom) and my roomie hasn't moved in yet -- I imagine it will seem even smaller when she does. But it is home, and it has a balcony (right over a busy street -- reminds me of Astoria!!), and I like it. :)

I miss you and the fam and Sunjay like crazy, but I am excited to start my year here! It will be even more exciting when you come -- though my bed is so narrow, you may have to just take the floor. Or the balcony! Hee hee. I love you -- hope the Thai date went well and the guy's not a lunatic!

xxxAnnie

Marching Bands of Manhattan

2007-08-21T23:39:00.000-04:00

If I could open my arms
And span the length of the isle of Manhattan
I'd bring it to where you are
Making a lake of the East River and Hudson
If I could open my mouth
Wide enough for a marching band to march out
They would make your name sing
And bend through alleys and bounce off all the buildings.

I wish we could open our eyes
To see in all directions at the same time
Oh what a beautiful view
If you were never aware of what was around you

Marching Bands of Manhattan

xxxAnnie

Blogging from Abroad

2007-08-12T06:47:00.000-04:00

Ah there is so much I have wanted to tell you! of course now that I have the time, I'm on a keyboard that pretty much blows... so excuse the typos (also all the general instructions/login stuff on websites is in Thai characters!)

I'll give you a brief rundown of the highlights (or lowlights, depending) thus far:

-food. food. food. Anna and I spent 4 days in Bangkok eating nonstop. Anna's goal was to eat at least 3 more pad thais in the last 24 hours she was here (mind you, we had already eaten at least 15 of them, street food is amazing and not as sketchy as I originally thought, thankfully- since we would be giving up a lot if we didn't try it all!) My personal goal was to eat as many mangos/mango products as possible. I believe I accomplished it, as I am now a little disgusted by my personal favorite dish- mangoes with sticky rice and coconut milk- which is amazing and I'm sure I'll miss as soon as I get back to the US.

-shiny happy temples, holding haaaaands! lots and lots of Wats, or buddhist temples, all decked out in the shiniest materials thinkable, and...

-many many monks! two favorite monk sightings: the monklings crossing the street, a la Abbey Road style (tons of little monk boys, all in little monk garb, so cute!) and the monk who befriended me while I was waiting for Anna (all this Wat-seeing is taking its toll on my feet). He was super cute, and I have a photo with him,though he's not allowed to touch anyone (or maybe just girls, I have no idea).

-the beach... ahhh.... Koh Samet island, which was beautiful, and the little hut I stayed in, which was right on the beach, could see it! could hear it at night! and was very sweet if a little, shall we say, rustic- I found a millipede, a salamander, and a rather large toad all wanting to share my bed.

-motorbikes = COOL until you wipe out and break the damn thing... which I thought I had done, until a nice Thai with very good english came by and after about 3 or 4 other Thais stopped, finally figured out how to get the son of a bitch running again. thank god, because I sure as hell don't have enough $ to pay for a motorbike, and I'm guessing the next step would be indentured servitude. or jail. ach- I kind of freaked the hell out. but all's well that ends well... I probably should have been driving slower, since no one wears a helmet and the road had enormous potholes that had sent me flying more than once already...

-more island craziness would be having a beer bottle thrown at me by a crazy Thai girl, who apparently had some thing going on with the Brit I was dancing with (later I found out the whole story, though I'm wary as to if he even told the truth, as said story changed about 4 times.) full disclosure? ok, PROMISE... but remind me, as this one will take more than the 16 minutes I have left on the computer! I swear I'll fill you in when I get home to my own computer and english keyboard :)

I'm off tonight on a 1 am flight to the Philippines to eventually (after 2 flights, a bus ride, and a trike ride) see Anna's hut house- yay! I know it will be a little primitive but I hope I've been prepped by the creepy crawlies I found on the island... so I'm sure I'll be ok. so far the toilet situation here has been much better than I thought, more flush toilets, and even when you have to pour water down them to flush, at least you can sit! which is quite exciting... even the french have worse toilets than the Thais!

love you much and miss you unimaginably... but at least I'm here doing amazing things and not at home wondering when you'll walk in the door....

I'll talk to you soon! give everyone my love!
xoxoxoxoBon

I guess this is what it means to miss someone

2007-08-04T15:31:00.000-04:00

You've only been gone for seven hours, and yet I feel so strangely empty. I've already cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom and the next thing on my list is to start re-packing my stuff...

I expected weirdness -- still being in New York while you are gone -- but this isn't at all what I thought it would feel like.

Three months ago, I didn't know what to expect either. I wasn't sure what the summer would bring -- where would I work? Who would I meet? Would I ever learn the subways? Would we want to kill each other after the requisite "honeymoon" -- two weeks? Would this time determine whether or not I wanted to move here post-graduation?

Doing this and that to earn money -- babysitting, focus groups, wrangling unruly first graders -- has been the most fun I've had with a job [jobs] ever. I don't know that any of it could have been possible in another locale. I don't know that I would have wanted to do any of it elsewhere, anyway.

Hanging out with the roomies, with their friends, with yours, with my co-teachers and friends from my past, with strangers at the post office has made me value both them and everyone at home even more. I know what to look for in housemates, in party pals and in people I have to see on a regular basis no matter what. Knowing more and more different people, cheesy as it sounds, helps me know myself better.

Despite my many fuck-ups, I do know the subway now. I have to ride the Q tomorrow and I don't feel at all intimidated. Brooklyn, I am slowly conquering you!

I already feel like Astoria is my third home (after home home and Carolina, of course). This 'hood is as much mine as any of the patrons of the HomeMark and Conway. Even though next time I come back, things may have changed (bye bye, Blue Light; hello ???), I don't think I'll ever feel like a stranger again. I love this place, I love what you've shown me and what we've discovered together.

If I do move here when I graduate (or when I come back from the Peace Corps, or decide to go to grad school, or whenever in the future), I hope you're also still living here. I know you don't plan on going anywhere -- so don't. Because living with you this summer, the longest we've been together for six years, has been one of the best summers of my life, right up there with Teens on Stage (yes, I liked it that much) and Governor's School (natch). I would not have changed a thing about it, except perhaps the heat.

And I cannot thank you enough for letting me stay. I know family is supposed to help each other out, stick together, etc, etc -- but you put up with all my shit, you let my friends visit, you let me sleep in your bed every single night. How can I ever get you back?

Well, there is France. My doors (and my bed) are always open to you. Please come visit me! Maybe I can repay even just a little of everything you've done for me this summer. And maybe I won't feel so empty for a little while.

When I'm away from Sunjay, it's painful but normal -- we've never had a different arrangement, so by now it's routine and I settle into it easily. When I'm away from Mom and Dad, it's something of a relief, because they are still parent-y and it's still annoying to me. When I'm away from Lisa and Lee, I'm used to it, because I haven't lived with them in months and years anyway. It used to be the same with you.

But now it will be different. Now I feel the loss. It's noticeable, tangible. It will take some getting used to.

But let's not get too used to it, okay? Because there's always next summer...

xxxAnnie

p.s. I love you.

Douchebag Becomes Him

2007-07-28T12:38:00.000-04:00

Last week someone called my current flavor-of-the-month (translation: favorite twerp-of-the-month) a douchebag as a joke, which I thought was funny since you know how fond I am of that word. Less than a week later, I realized I should have taken that as a sign and gone home right then and there. Kaveri always says "Douchery is right around the corner" and last night I gotta tell you, not only was it right around the corner, it was on the corner, around the block, about 6 times.

I just wish guys would stop trying to pass off their douchery as laid-back nonchalence and an easy-going demeanor. Let's call it what it is: YOU DON'T LIKE ME ANYMORE (and this is why you don't call). YOU DON'T GIVE A SHIT (and this is why you can pretend you're just you know, taking life as it comes). I SHOULD NEVER HAVE SLEPT WITH YOU (and this is why I will not be calling you, seeing you, or accepting your lame-ass excuses for being an asshole).

I would just like to say, that I wish I were mean and rude enough to have called you out on the street last night, instead of screaming at the sky in anger and waking up my neighbors. [At least we know there is one guy in the world who is amazing enough to listen to me bitch in the dark at 2 in the morning; better yet he lives upstairs but unfortunately I have already dated him (who knew dating would be suckier at 24 than at 14). Taylor, you and your back balcony with the Manhattan views rock.]

Note to Self [SMACK! STOP BEING A WELL-MEANING, TRUSTING IDIOT, SELF!]: When he says "I really like you. I hope I will never give you any reason to think I'm a creep. Come over anytime" all it really means is "I like you before sex, I will be a creep after sex, and you can come over as many times as it takes until we actually have sex."

Douchebag becomes him. Too bad I'm too smart to ever talk to him again, so he'll never get the pleasure of hearing this first-hand.

ps- "You know where to find me" is also a clever disguise for "Please don't come and find me, unless you want to have meaningless sex."

Whatever. I'm going to the BK tonight for another secret loft party, I've got a whole slew of indie/underground/artistic shit lined up indefinitely, I'm going to be an international traveler again in a week, and I just got off the phone with a potential client in Italy. I am too busy and dammit, too good to waste my time even thinking about things as insignificant as people who don't treat me the way I deserve to be treated.

My life fucking rocks, and for the first time in a long time, I wouldn't change a thing.

The Wrong Side of the Bed

2007-07-25T13:19:00.000-04:00

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, but it was my bed, and that is just fine. Although I don't know what I'm going to do when you aren't in it, passed out with your head hanging over a pillow and your nasty mouth guard in, anymore. Despite the fact that after the first week or two I totally wanted my huge fluffy space back, I'm so used to your presence now that, like a child who has lost her security blanket or favorite teddy, I don't know what I'll do when there's nothing next to me again. I thought maybe it would work out that you could be replaced by someone else (someone I might actually be able to, you know, get some from), but my bad dreams and subsequent realization that that is not a distinct possibility have taught me that, like everything else, I'm going to just have to get over it.

Now that I'm typing this, I hope that it doesn't seem creepy that I will miss sharing a room, space, bed. etc. with my sister. Just because no one has shared a bed with a sibling long-term since Laura Ingalls Wilder doesn't mean it's weird- rather, it reminds me of that stupidly sweet ending to The Waltons where they all say goodnight to each other. Everyone needs someone to say goodnight to. Everyone. And if you don't have someone to say goodnight to, then, well, that just makes me want to cry. Go call your mother. She will appreciate your goodnight.

On the other hand:
I have been waking up alone for so long that the infrequent, sporadic times that I actually have a guy I like enough to share the covers with is like crack. There's where the problem lies- forget the sex- it's the sheet sharing that really means something. Even if I suck at sharing. I try. And then I can't get enough... even if my arm falls asleep or my hair is totally fucked in the process.

HOWEVER, screw my personal problems. Like our favorite tattoo artist said, "Everything's not always about you" (I would add a "my dear" on to the end of it, if I had my way- very Rhett Butler-esque- and I figure if you're going to say something mean, you had better be Rhett Butler-esque about it). So:

Everything's not always about you, my dear.
I know. Everything's not always about me.

And today, it really shouldn't be. Because I temporarily forget that even though we're in another state, when Lee left NC for Kentucky it didn't mean he was going on a jaunt, a drive, a trip section. It's for real now. And in that way that no one anticipated four years ago, it is really sad. And scary. And easy to forget when I'm all the way up here.

It won't be so easy to forget when it's Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and Easter... or when, god forbid the day comes, Mom is mailing off brown box packages to our very own brother in a foreign country, and not someone else's brother. I don't know what to think or say, really. Thinking about what could happen always makes me want to cry (or actually start to). And then, like some manic Thoreau on a stream-of-consciousness kick, I'm off- I'm thinking about what it all means, and then I look at the kids, the kids that aren't mine, and I want to protect them, and I want them to never have to think about anyone ever dying or even leaving them, even though it happens to everyone, and then I think for a split second about how I am always being left, but then how lucky I am that my family and friends are so amazing, and how lucky I am to have whatever amount of time I get with them, and then I'm thinking again about what could happen and what might happen and what will happen and then I'm so wrapped up and confused by all these stupid thoughts that I don't even know where they began, and why I'm upset, and what the real reasons behind any of it is.

And now I just sound like a complete lunatic. No wonder I always fall for the weird ones. But now, please, self: "Everything's not always about you, my dear."

It shouldn't be. But I'm so freaked out by the thought of losing the most important people and the least important people, all at the same time, and it seems like the spinning madness of it all will never slow down. Life's an endless cycle of gaining and losing, and happiness depends on nothing more complex than the balance of those scales.

FOR the past few years, I have been praying (when I am a good girl, and remember where I came from) for me to just be okay with whatever comes my way. I feel like a kid rubbing a magic genie lamp if I pray for a man, a job, a specific happiness- but if I just ask for contentment, for calm- to me this is like asking for world peace, starting with myself. If I am at peace with whatever happens to me, I can never be unhappy, at least not for too long. And if I have calm, if I am simply OKAY- then everything else will be too.

This is what I want for myself, for you, for Lee, for Mom & Dad, for Lisa, for my friends, for my kids, for anyone who has the tenderness and awareness to be susceptible to real pain.

Maybe I really am a hippie, except it never is about the drugs and the dreads, not even about the music- it really is all about PEACE.

xoxoxoBon

Departure

2007-07-25T10:06:00.000-04:00

I can't believe our brother is going. Going. Gone.

I knew this was coming for four years and always thought I was okay with it, but now that it's happened -- sans fanfare, or even farewell -- I feel a little strange. Can I be empty? We hadn't spent more than a week or two together since high school, and yet now I know there will be no more Christmas vacations or Easter breaks -- that from now on, it's whatever the army, and not the school year, dictates.

This is far more troubling than your move to New York, way weirder than Dad's retirement or Lisa's senior year. Our family is definitively split now: will we ever all be "home" again?

xxxAnnie

Grand Plans

2007-07-09T09:48:00.000-04:00

It doesn't seem real to me that I've been here for six weeks. And that in only four, I'm going home again. And that in about eight, I'll be knee-deep in la belle France.

My lack of employment for the first few weeks of this venture is what's kept me from realizing the time which has passed. If I'd been working since the beginning of June, I think I'd feel more ready for the summer to end. But here it is at the halfway point and I've barely begun. I'll leave and have just a couple weeks to get my shit together for France, and then I'll be thrown into it, wide-eyed and still mumbling bits of English when my vocabulary fails me.

And then what? What experience will that be? Away from everything familiar, including my own language, food and radio choices, for months. Thrust into socialized healthcare and subsidized rents, cheese and cheap (but delicious) wine, bad imitations of American Idol and fleets of mopeds. At least, that's how I envision it. Experience usually dictates something rather different.

I suppose the point of all this is that living in New York should be equipping me to live in France, at least to some extent. No parents to rely on for money, laundry or supply of the Harry Potter book. No college dorm or dining hall, no free cable. Rent. Groceries. Public transportation.

Unfortunately (and don't take this the wrong way), I have you. You're giving me all my New York guidance, recommending cheap restaurants and dictating dinners. You're enthusiastic about my banana pudding forays and bringing home baba ghanouj. I love living with you, and it's going to be a big, nasty shock when you're not in France with me. I'm going to have to figure it out on my own. Which bar has cheap cocktails? Who do I call for a wax? Where is the dollar store?*

All this is my reasoning for you coming to live on my couch. Then you can come to Granada and Morocco with me and Claire. And you can experience cheese with me. And we can drink fabulous wine every night for the cost of one wash at the Laundromat.

You can think about it for a bit, but let me know soon so I can put in for a roommate who's never around.

xxxAnnie

*Or euro store, fine. It's still a dollar store to me.

I Love Jesus- and You

2007-07-03T13:52:00.000-04:00

I think a minister is stalking me.

I have gotten two anonymous phone calls today, one who didn't leave a message and the other hung up on me when I answered. Like the super sleuth I am, I called back the second number. And got (drumroll please) duh duh duh duhhhhh:

Judson Memorial Church.

Very strange. Could have been a wrong number, except my digits are out of state and I was just over there last week for the work party. But, who did I give my number to? NO ONE. Except the sound guy, who doesn't actually work there and whose number I have- so it is obviously not him. However, my phone number is easily accessible as I'm sure my coworkers would have no qualms about giving it out to a man of the cloth. Which leaves only, a man of the cloth as a possible suspect.

I am reading waaay too much into this. But why would anyone from that church be calling me and hanging up? Very strange indeed.

oy I need a better hobby.

xoxoxoBon

Why the hipster really must die

2007-06-25T21:52:00.000-04:00

Although It's a Part of My Life I Don't Like Talking About

Hipster on cell: I've been everywhere. [pause] Yes, I've been to Queens.

Hope Street, Williamsburg
Brooklyn, New York

Does this make you feel better?

2007-06-14T16:29:00.001-04:00

Sweet Nothings in My Ear and Hot Tar on My Ass

Cashier #1: So then where did you go?
Cashier #2: He took me up to the roof.
Cashier #1: Girl, you are so lucky! He sounds so romantical.
Cashier #2: Yeah, that's how I like it.

--C Town Supermarket, Queens

Overheard by: Sara Swank

Our Blog Sucks

2007-06-14T00:11:00.000-04:00

You living with me is really killing our internet gossip-fests. I guess sharing a room (and a computer, til this week) really cuts back on what we need to tell each other online, huh? Bah.

I guess this is the price I must pay for having a constant giggle-partner late at night. Hehehehe cackle cackle!

xoxoxoBon

Midnight Snack

2007-05-24T12:19:00.000-04:00

One thing I am TOTALLY qualified for? Making out.

I can see this ending badly.

Then again, "this" hasn't even really begun.

Boys are just so terribly delicious!

Yum.

xoxoxoBon

And just to make you feel better...

2007-05-17T19:46:00.000-04:00

http://cajunboyinthecity.blogspot.com/2007/05/extreme-craigslist-missed-connections.html

Too many religious metaphors for one pep talk

2007-05-17T19:35:00.000-04:00

Life is one long resume of underqualifications (new word?).

No, really, did anyone pop out knowing everything they were going to need for life? How fucking boring for them.

If you always think someone else is better suited than you, they will be, if only because you didn't have the balls to say, "Hey, I can do this damn fine!" and they did. She who hesitates is lost. Like I've been telling you, it's all about the act. Do you think Dad is "qualified" to teach teenagers about the Constitution? No effing way. But he's saying he is, and people are believing him.

The best thing I ever learned about getting away with stuff is act like you know what you are doing and no one else will notice you are out of line. In other words, believe in yourself. I know it sounds cheesy, but a healthy self-esteem is what gets stoopid people elected and snake oil salesmen rich.

It's also what leads good, honest people to happiness.

There is some principle thought up by Thomas Aquinas -- even if you don't truly believe in the tenets of Christianity, if you go through the motions, it is enough. Eventually the value of them will sink in and you will reap the benefits.

If you go through the motions of a "qualified" person, you will become that person. It's like that crappy "visualization" shit that the hippie yoga teachers are always going on about, only one (or ten) step better. Like the Buddha's Dhamma: if you know the Truth, you do the Truth, and if you do the Truth, you know the Truth.

It's up to you, Bon. I know you are feeling blue, maybe useless, but they would not give you the responsibility if they didn't think you could handle it. Whether you are qualified or not, they think you can do it. Live up to their expectations while you raise your own a bit higher...You can do it.

xxxAnnie

Underqualified

2007-05-17T14:26:00.000-04:00

Do you ever just feel completely underqualified to be doing everything in your life?
Do you ever just feel completely underqualified to be living your life?

I know I asked you this aready yesterday, but I think it's really important for me to know that I'm not the only one who feels like someone else would be better suited for the job of being me.

I only really know one language. English. This, most likely, will never change. It's small, but makes me sad. What does this mean?

I'm not sure where I'm going with this. In fact, I'm not sure where I'm going at all (figuratively, of course. literally, I'm going down to Bleeker in a few minutes for a meeting and then back up here to work and then uptown to babysit. and then, home sweet home, in which I have not spent more than a half hour of wakefulness since Saturday. weird.

xoxoxoBon

What It's All About

2007-05-15T21:19:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, I have these truncated moments where I think "this is what it's all about." And then my ice cream topples over, my Metrocard runs out, and the strap on my bag breaks. But, nonetheless, while I'm standing on the corner of 104th and West End clutching the tiny hand of a five-year-old, life seems to make sense for a second. If nothing else, I think that at least I can try to make this one little person's life better, easier, sweeter. Even if she's only five. Even if she doesn't notice the flaming sunset over Riverside Park like I do. Even if she's more involved in eating her lemon sorbet than I am in the thoughts of people I once knew.

I think, even at 24, this is why I desperately hope to (ONE DAY) have children- so that, in some cosmic chain of people, I will know that I made a difference. Not just hope that I make a difference, not just believe the hippy-crap that "we all can make a difference" (even if we can), but to know that I am doing something in this universe for someone other than myself. Know, inherently and undeniably, that my life means more than just my life. Because in the grand scheme of things, my little life is, well, little. And I am so unmistakeably aware of that fact.

I have been up and down and floating in and out so much lately- but then, when I think about it, this is how I've always been, just sometimes more up or more down more often. Anyhow, I know I have been working harder than I ever have before, harder even than the summer I worked and went to school often from 8 am to midnight. Because unlike crappy campus jobs and food service and even school, I actually have to use lots of brain power doing what I do now. Brain power, and organization, and damn if it's not excruciatingly hard to keep myself enthusiastic and motivated to do all these multiple jobs at once. I think, Life is hard. And then I think, no it's not- I mean, yes it is- but, compared to many in this city my life is a cakewalk. A cakewalk in the park. A cakewalk in the park in the sun. So, I keep going, hoping that when I "get it together" (whatever IT is), all the pieces will fall into place and I will become who I am destined to be. Which, not unlike the question in your previous post, is thus far a total mystery. Our purpose(s)? Our destiny? Questions not meant to be answered at the moment.

I'm reading this great book about a woman who, for lack of a better description, travels around the world to "find herself" (among other things). She also happens to be a travel writer so this situation works out for her. I'm at the part of the book where she is at an Ashram in India, spending 4 months intensely meditating and seeking God. And, also, like most of us, her purpose. It sounds (again, for lack of a better description), divine. I just hope to God I can answer my own questions without having to spend 4 months in India (which would be amazing, but I lack the book advance this woman had to pay for it).

Maybe I am answering my own questions. Maybe you can too. Maybe sometimes we just need a violent sunset and a tiny hand. Or maybe we just need someone who needs us.

xoxoxoBon

Lost: My Writing. Girly, fanciful, wangsty and grammatically correct.

2007-05-11T18:44:00.000-04:00

Where has my writing gone?

Two years ago, I was an avid, fruitful writer of thoughts, dreams, desires, fears, rants, raves, poetry, songs, long lists (of the "to-do" and "packing" variety, mostly). The evidence falls out of dogeared notebooks (mostly spiral-bound), scrapbooks, photo albums, old websites. It's scribbled in pencil and blue ink, black ink, pink ink, ball point pen, fountain pen, Sharpie, rich text. It's personal, embarassing, stupid and true.

Last summer, I hit a point, sometime in June. I couldn't write anymore. I didn't want to. It had been my New Year's resolution to write every day, but had been forced for a long time. Even during freshman year, I don't remember really writing anything substantial. I re-read my old journal entries and it all blends together.

The only times I wrote and felt it was truly worthwhile were in high school. In the middle of drama and pain and love and feelings and events which I now label "stupid", "childish" and "past". They are past, but I used to have this knack for holding onto what was past and wringing it out, woolling it around and beating it like a dead horse till I had gotten all the creativity out of it that I ever possibly could. And doing it all over again till some "life-changing" event negated it and let me move on. And write about that.

Maybe it's just that I haven't had anything worth writing about. Maybe I haven't had anything worth thinking about to the point that I have to write it out. I haven't wanted to think about much of anything in a long time.

I think that's what is scariest and saddest of all.

I'm hoping this summer gives me fodder for my pen. And desire. I want to want it again. Like you, I want a purpose. I used to have one -- to get rid of my angst, to find a new way of wallowing, to express something in words no one has ever used before.

I don't know what my purpose will be, when I find it [if I find it?]. I'm just so ready for it.

xxxAnnie

A Day with Poison and the Faux Beau

2007-05-10T13:35:00.000-04:00

Life lesson #749202193187:
Getting a job (and really, getting most things) is all about repeating the same kiss-ass stuff, day in and day out. No joke. They certainly don't prepare you for that in college, but we all find out sooner or later. So keep up the good ass. I mean work.

On another note, what is your silly photo of? Sure does make me smile :)

On another another note, I am going to be in a Poison music video! Here is a picture of me at the studio:

(I will not be wearing the blond wig in the video, but I have always been curious as to how I'd look as a blonde)

Anyhow, the story is that the studio that Taylor does animation for is doing this Poison music video for their cover of "What I Like About You" in which they are creating a yearbook (which Taylor will then animate at some point) and they needed lots of people to come have their portrait taken. Carrie and I were eager volunteers so there will be several "versions" of us floating around this thing, think "Bonnie as angry hipster," "Bonnie as goody goody straight-A student" and "Bonnie as excitable sorority girl." In any case, there's a pretty good chance you'll see my best acting skills on display on VH1 sometime in the near future. Not only did I get to try on that hot wig, but I also got paid $1.00- and I swear that was the most fun I've ever had turning to the right and tilting my head to the left, chin down slightly, good, good, now look at me and smiiiile!

After that, I had my daily cappucino with Carrie, went to work, and then met my fake boyfriend's real mother. Then I had strawberry mojitos with my fake boyfriend. And a nice dinner. And then, after the promise of a week at his beach house this summer, my fake boyfriend and I said goodbye and I thought, I get everything but romance (and sex) out of this relationship... perhaps it isn't so bad after all. And then I realized that I would never be able to live with that, with any sort of pseudo relationship, EVER, and that this is the main reason I am still single after almost two years in this city. But I'm ok with that. After all, fake boyfriends are fun to hang out with, but I'm gonna hang in there for the real thing.

I will admit, I did get a pretty good deal for going along with his charade for one evening- food, booze, and a beach house- what more could a girl ask for? And, I am just now remembering- you, my dear, will benefit as well from this little shore excursion- we just have to pick a week this summer, and after a 40 minute ride on the LIRRRRRRRR we shall be in a salty, alcohol-infused paradise!

I can't think of anything more useful to say right now, as after this excruciatingly long week (when are my weeks not excruciatingly long these days?)my brian is fried and this has become apparent to even my boss. Which says a lot.

xoxoxoBon

Life?

2007-05-10T12:40:00.000-04:00

I posted my nanny ad to craigslist last night and already got two responses (one of which I turned down, because they wanted a live-in nanny in CT and really, wtf? I put Manhattan as my area of choice! Sheesh). That is positive.

I'm applying to several more day camps and suchwhat, if I can ever get over my distaste for writing the same kissass thing again and again to different people.

I really want to find some summer employment ASAP so I can rest assured that next year won't be spent eating the frog equivalent of Cup O'Noodles in one of the culinary capitols of the world.

Bah. Feel better picture:

xxxAnnie

I recorded shit!

2007-05-05T03:31:00.000-04:00

A song Jay made up on the spot for his sweet son Wyatt. Totally adorable and awesome. I have 14 more songs for your listening pleasure!

Little Ranger

xxxAnnie

Best Subject Line Ever:

2007-05-02T12:08:00.000-04:00

"Are we camping on your roof tomorrow?"

Just being able to write this sentence makes me happy to be alive, and in New York, and in and around rooftops. Even if it doesn't actually happen.

On another note, I'll have to get back to you regarding my fake date, fake boyfriend, and my fake boyfriend's mom. This is a good one!

xoxoxoBon

Alternately

2007-05-01T10:11:00.000-04:00

The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet.

- Frederick Buechner

Teleology

2007-04-29T20:41:00.000-04:00

1 a : the study of evidences of design in nature
b : a doctrine (as in vitalism) that ends are immanent in nature
c : a doctrine explaining phenomena by final causes
2 : the fact or character attributed to nature or natural processes of being directed toward an end or shaped by a purpose
3 : the use of design or purpose as an explanation of natural phenomena

There is a lot of philosophical, religious and otherwise scholarly debate about the effectiveness of seeing the world and its workings in teleological terms. It is considered only one of many ways to approach life.

So maybe there is no "purpose" to your life or anyone else's. Or maybe it will be revealed only later on, and then everything will fall into place and make sense. And I think you get that it's pointless to sweat it right now.

So don't. Let what happens happen.

You're only 24.

xxxAnnie

I Think "It's" Over (or another nonsensical post about my search for the meaning of life)

2007-04-26T11:34:00.000-04:00

I never thought I was that difficult to satisfy (here lies a girl who can happily spend an evening with nothing more than network tv and a takeout container) but it's become increasingly harder for me to find things (and by that I mean jobs, people) that make me want to stick it out.

As I've been pointing out for years, I have these "cycles." Come now, not that kind. I mean, my life seems to go in these cycles, running around and around itself, I guess until it gets tired and begins a new pattern. This is purely subconscious, I think, as I try, pointlessly, to psycho-analyze myself (refusing, as usual, to pay for anything I think I can do on my own). Either I'm full of crap (as I tend to think most of the professionals are anyways) or I'm destined for a made-for-tv rom-com. Whew. Anyhow, the new cycle is this:
-begin new [job, "relationship," etc.]
-envision a lifetime of happiness, coffee meetings, and long walks in the park
-realize this is not going to happen
-and that there are certain things that drive me INSANE about new [job, "relationship," etc]
-have a Zoolander moment and wonder if I will ever find [something, someone] that I will want to hang onto? what is my purpose, AGAIN? [cue Avenue Q soundtrack]

On the bright side, I am realizing (or at least making myself believe) that all the failed potential "relationships" I've had in the past two years, the ones that never made it past a month or two or even the first date or two, are probably blessings- had these guys stuck around long enough, I probably would have been driven nuts eventually and then stressed myself out over whether I should end it or not. Instead, some of these crazy people never stuck around at all, thus sparing me the potential emotional rollercoaster of decision-making.

This might sound depressing. It might sound confusing. Trust me, I'm plenty confused (right now the main question floating around in my scrambled-egg-brain is whether or not I'm even talking about a career or a guy, or both). But, I think the moral of this story is probably the same moral of all the other stories in the past few months, which is God's/fate's/whoever's way of telling me to breathe- envision sitting in AA, saying the Serenity Prayer, and take each day as it comes.

There has been no cheesier advice in the world. There has been no truer advice in the world.

What is my purpose? What is the purpose of life? What is the purpose of this post? I think the answer to all of these questions is: I have no freaking idea. And I probably shouldn't be thinking too much about it, as I have 5 million other things to do. And whether "it's" over or not probably doesn't matter very much when compared to these burning questions, and probably shouldn't. So I won't let it.

xoxoBon

I promised a real post...

2007-04-23T08:24:00.000-04:00

...but you're not going to get one, yet. It will come! As a bribe to tide you over so that you don't start thinking I'm a bad sister and replacing me with Peaches, here is a silly picture:

As Will Smith so rightly asked, who's hotta than Madonna in a pointy bra?

xxxAnnie

Where are you, little sis?

2007-04-19T15:33:00.001-04:00

????????

I miss you!

On Public Vomiting

2007-04-03T14:59:00.000-04:00

Today, while waiting for the subway, I saw a blind woman vomit (she missed her service pup). I didn't know how to feel about this, and I still don't. I would think if one has to vomit, in public, one might be discreet about it or try to find a trashcan. However, I can see how this might be a problem for a blind person. At least it was on the platform, and not someone's shoe, or head (had she leaned over the railing of the elevated line).

I feel kind of bad for being so disgusted. Is that mean?

**UPDATE: So far today, I have seen public vomiting TWICE and almost publicly vomited myself at least once. And there is still a little over an hour left in the day. To make a long story (day) short, the subway platform was not the end of the line for my bout with showy throwup. Noooo, whilst in an elevator with the stroller-ridden tot, I bit into a moth infested granola bar, not thinking that those sneaky pests could worm (UGH) their way through a shrink wrapped package. As usual, my hunger gets the best of me and I end up with a mouthful of either moth eggs or moth crap, take your pick. Just typing this makes me want to vomit again. Suffice it to say I was not able to ralph in the elevator, in front of the doorman, or on the steps of the building with innocent pedestrians watching. Just like the problem with crying, there is NO WHERE in New York City that one can puke in private.

I totally understand the blind woman. Sort of.

After I got done silently screaming and had spit inconspicuously all over some bushes, I carried on and tried not to think of insects, barf, or the two mixing in my mouth. Then, I come home after a 12+ hour day, and as I'm walking up to my damn door, this dude in a car stopping (not stopped, STOPPING- as in the car was still rolling when this happened) opens up his door and leans his fat head out and YES, YOU GOT IT- he regurgitates not 10 feet away from me. WTF! Jesus. What the crap. I mean, what the crap?

I feel like I should have something more interesting and/or less disgusting to say after a month of being a no-show on the blog, but since I just saw you last week and updated you on the good, the bad, and the ugly (and the fun nights of beer drinking with rock bands and shameless photogs), I don't have much else.

xoxoBon
ps- I lectured our little sister. I have no idea how much good it did. Lisa, how much good did it do? I know you'll get wind of this sooner or later and think we're trying to gang up on you so I might as well address you personally now. Don't drink and drive! Don't have sex on prom night! And as for making out with boys: pick one and stick with it! Love you :)

The land of beer and pretzels

2007-03-09T07:57:00.000-05:00

I know I'm a big crap for not posting at all in a billion years...And not posting for the next billion years...But I promise when I get back from Deutschland I will do a nice big post, complete with pictures!

Love you, miss you, I'll hoist one in your honor!

xxxannie

Auto Accident Aftermath

2007-03-07T20:29:00.000-05:00

These past few days, I've been struggling with my body but also with this: my faith in the goodness of humanity is constantly being destroyed and restored in thousands of crazy, manic, bipolar ways.

For every person who bumps into me thoughtlessly there is someone who offers their subway seat. And I hadn't encountered any hostility towards my disabled state until today; in Trader Joe's this man was horribly very very mean to me over the strategic placement of my shopping cart, of all things. In any other situation this guy would still be an Ass Monkey Extraordinaire, since the lines are always terribly long and one must maneuver as best they can. But, c'mon shithead, I have use of one arm! I don't give even one tiny shit if you have to go around the enormous line, you have no right to be a fuckwad and bump my cart and snottily retort that I'm in your way. This is a person who truly deserves to be hit by a car. If my reflexes were better, I would have run over his foot with my cute little red trolley.

C'est la vie.

What I'm truly pissed about is that I can't go back to yoga or swimming or really much of anything for at least 2 months. I'm going to be a huge fat ass just in time for the summer, hallelujah.

On the bright side, people who are kind make me want to write letters to the editor of every paper in the city thanking them for caring. Because of all the places I love, this city is on the very top of my list- but it's also one of the saddest, most self-indulgent places in the world.

Which is why I am going to the Phillippines to find Anna this summer, and then we are going to Thailand to lay on the pristine beaches (and not get arrested for drug smuggling a la more than a couple Hollywood flicks).

In the end, ain't life grand?

It seems it's always worth getting back up after you've been plowed down.

xoxoxoBon

I Got Hit by a Car

2007-03-02T12:45:00.000-05:00

It's true.
I'm ok but I can't move my left shoulder without wanting to scream. After 6 hours in the hospital all they could tell me was it's not broken or sprained, and I should try to use it normally so it doesn't freeze up. I have command of my legs and hands (though everything's bruised as hell) but not much in between, since the shoulder is a much more pivotal area than one might realize on a regular basis.

I feel like an old woman who's fallen and can't get up. Krista & Lauren are taking care of me but I hate being an invalid. And now the pharmacy won't even give me my percocet because the prescription is on a hospital printout and doesn't have a serial number or some such crap, and it's a very controlled substance. Fuck.

On the bright side, I'm not dead, severely injured, or still in that godforsaken hospital. And the accident was not a result of my accident-prone stupidity, I had the right of way and the driver turned left into me. Onto me. Fuck.

If this is what I get for dragging myself up off the couch to go to the gym (now there's some irony), maybe I should just resign myself to being a fatass indefinitely. So tired from work, a million reasons not to leave the apartment, but trying to be a better, healthier person- and now I'm injured and can't work for who knows how long and I hate it, almost as much as I hate the loss of income. Fuck.

I'm ok. I'm lucky. I need to take a shower, wish me luck.
xoxoxoBon

A list

2007-02-26T16:22:00.000-05:00

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tNcPbjw6ZhI

Watch it, love it. Or be alternately baffled and terrified by it. And if you're not in a position to watch it, then go here and read all about what you're missing. Then when you have the chance, watch it for real. And die.

2. Here are a few of the things I hate today:
- waking up early just to work for half an hour (not my choice)
- exams which consist of eight paragraph identifications, two "short" essays and one really freaking long essay (and which of course cannot actually be completed in the requisite 50 minutes, thus leading to frustration after a whole lot of studying which went to waste)
- continuing education students (actually, I hate them every day, just in particular on days when I hate everything else)
- the kid in my Gnosticism class who takes his shoes off and wiggles his nasty hairy hobbit feet everywhere and grosses me the heck out
- being fat
- being fat and hungry
- being tired and fat and hungry
- waking up after losing to a stupidly bad unranked team

3. Now I have to worry about getting all my shizz done before spring break. It is the bright spot in my next two weeks.

xxxAnnie

To date or not to date

2007-02-23T19:32:00.000-05:00

I have been thinking about the ups and downs of dating a lot lately, and pretty much trying to figure out why I bother doing it at all after all the bad/stupid/weird/inane experiences I've had in the past year or so. And then I come across this post:

http://thisfish.ivillage.com/love/archives/2007/02/graceless.html

and I think there may be hope yet of finally having a normal, adult experience. And not as in "adult films" but as in adults actually acting as such, actually acting respectful and responsible and not like the 12 year olds most men wish they still were. Sure, we all f-up from time to time (some more often than others), but if other singles in the NYC metro area can actually apologize for it, get over it, and forget about it, then I might have a tiny chance of growing less jaded with time, instead of more. I have another date tonight; we'll see.

xoxoxoBon

Crazy... in that good way.

2007-02-22T12:01:00.000-05:00

boys are mean and people are lame, but the weather here is getting better and I love my life. I really do. and tonight I'm going to thumb my nose at all the dummies by drinking free vodka and dancing like a crazy girl. cause I am. a crazy girl. and I like it that way.

xoxoxoBon
ps- want to be a nanny this summer? I know all the people with school-age kids will need someone to help out... there are many resources for this, and other things- call me when you get a chance this weekend and we'll formulate an employment plan.

New Tune Love

2007-02-20T00:10:00.000-05:00

I have to tell you two things:

1- new music is coming your way (via cd, so you don't have to screw your comp. up). as soon as I get through the 17 cd's that John gave me (for free!) on Saturday (it was Christmas! in February!). John is a super-rad guy who works for an indie record label and when he asked me if I wanted some cd's, I of course said yes yes YES! I was expecting, like, 2- and I got 17! It was like joining a music club without having to sift through Beyonce and Blink 182 to find the good stuff- it's pretty much all good (well, what I've had time to listen to in the past 2 days). Anyways, I'll get you some good'uns soon.

2- I can't wait for you to come here. Carrie and Krista have been prepped and I know will be disappointed not to have a 4th temp. roommate too :) (if only cause I am so pumped about it!) I know we'll find something fab for you to do, even if it means taking over some of my jobs while I galavant around the city ! Keep your head up, summer will be here soon enough and then it's home freeeeee

lots of lovin, xoxoxo, Bon
ps- my ex is dating an ugly girl named, of all things, Amber. as in, a rock with a petrified fly in it, or that lame pop singer. ugh.

Daria says

2007-02-19T18:39:00.000-05:00

Ironic that I should write about wanting new music just hours before I find out that I have to delete much of it to make sure my computer doesn't crash.

:(

holla we want pre-nup

2007-02-18T10:28:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure why, but I am really digging the couple of ghetto mixes Lisa has lately made me. I always thought I had no rhythm (and if you see me on a dance floor, I really don't), but Kelis makes me want to strut my stuff. Gwen, on the other hand...I can't tell if she's for real or what, but mixing up the musicals with the poppy hip hop (first it was Fiddler on the Roof and now Sound of Music?!?) is just creepy.

I need some new music. Rufus is releasing a new album in May, and I heard rumors about Jay hitting the studio and touring again this spring (!), but as of right now, the next show I'll be seeing will be Ben Folds (if I'm lucky). I wonder what the music scene is like in Lyon. I hope there are more Arkol boat concerts. :D

Blah. I am putting off finishing my Lyon application. I had to take a language test (which I probably fucked up -- it was darn hard in some parts, and deceptively too easy in others) and now I have to pick out classes (which is harder than you might think; there are no descriptions so I can't figure out what some of this stuff is!). And homework. Ew. You might have to worry about rent, health insurance and stuff like that, but at least you don't have to write any more papers or read long-ass books en francais. While hungover. (The last couple days with Fuzzy were tres fun, but I didn't need to drink so much vodka before going out last night, that's for sure.)

xxxAnnie

Masterpiece of the Day

2007-02-16T00:32:00.000-05:00

Check it: www.progressivesource.com

I am especially excited about this website for the following reasons:
1- I taught myself Flash for the banner animation (though a very very small example, still)
2- I took all the photos, view Contact Us for some awesome Union Square shots!
3- I'm actually getting paid for it! novel!

I hate my photo so pay no attention... but I'm always excited when something I create goes floating around the 'net :)

xoxoxoBon
ps- I haven't felt like betch-slapping any decks lately but Krista and I have been enjoying the Kelly Episodes!

Happy Slushy Hearts Day

2007-02-14T11:51:00.000-05:00

Amazing pics! I love it all, from Michael to your fort (genius, I tell you, absolutely genius) to your hot acting skills.... I love you, you silly silly girl. Unfortunately I have no pics for you (well, I do but I'm at work so don't have the time to load them at the moment, will find something good for you soon), but I do have a fantastic pic of the entire city covered in snowdust right next to me, out this window. I'm on the 14th floor of my new (albeit part-time) office, listening to Dock Street Live (almost typed Lice there haha), and working on a website.

I think this is what I've been looking for here, being inside this very tall building listening to very good music on this very cold day, doing something I very much believe in. I'm getting all mushy and soft inside, which is unusual because usually I hate Valentine's Day. But, despite the disgusting (but beautiful) mess that is happening in the atmosphere today, I think this is right where I want to be right now. Later I will wander the cold and slushy streets in search of somewhere warm to wait for Carrie, but then inevitably I'll end up at the bar, listening to the fab bluegrass music played by fab old & young & crazy & not so crazy people, and I will love it. Every Wednesday we go there to watch this random assorted group of musicians play the music they love, and it feels good to be "gettin back to my roots."

For now I have to get back to work. Will write more happy things later :) 2007 is looking up!

xoxoxoBon
ps- Happy Hearts Day! I should have sent you (and the rest of the fam) somethin sweet, but the only thing I had time to do was buy a huge 2 foot card for Krista & Lauren, from the H-Mark of course! and some fake roses with some nasty woman's bikini on the tag... that place has such weird shit.

Picture time!

2007-02-13T11:47:00.000-05:00

Oh, where do I begin?

DUCK DUCK FOOK

Last Wednesday we beat Dook 79-73. It was a glorious night, as you can see:

This is me and my Scottish friend Helen, who is obsessed with Reyshawn to the point of face-painting.

Of course, we all stormed Franklin and there was much crowd surfing, tree climbing and bonfire jumping involved.

Here I am demonstrating the "Coach K School of Acting" -- which does not, of course, involve intoxication, but rather the fine imagination skills which make-believe injuries until a foul is called.

Then Friday night I saw "Pan's Labyrinth", which may or may not be the saddest and coolest movie of my life. Five stars, totally recommended, bring a lot of tissues.

MICHAEL JORDAN

Yes, it is true. We are now BFF. He came to the Wake Forest game Saturday (to which I miraculously had tickets) because UNC is celebrating the 50th and 25th anniversaries of the 1957 and 1982 NCAA Championship teams, respectively. Of course it was MJ who made the game-winning shot in the latter.
This is the cutest picture ever. His suit is very ugly, but MJ + Dean Smith = love.

And then, Saturday night, because it was too cold to go out, Amanda and I decided to build a FORT. And it was spectacular. I haven't had that much fun in college since I got here. I am pretty sure that fort-building should be a life career, because I would rock it like whoa.

Here I am in the nook of the fort. We ate candy and watched silly movies and slept in it. And it was spectacular.

That is my life of the week, minus tests, papers and other crapola. :) Happy Valentine's Day, ma soeur.

xxxAnnie

Sundance, Stella, Swimsuits, and ... Whiskey

2007-02-06T14:48:00.000-05:00

As I write this, I am sittin' the kids, which is deceptively difficult- 10 hours of kids a day just wears the crap outta you. I think it will get easier as I get used to this schedule and the weather (slowly) improves, but right now my eyelids are fluttering and I just want to curl up in a corner.

I have been lamer than lame with updates.... just haven't had more than 2 minutes to myself since I got back from Sundance. Life is crazy right now, and I should be more used to it- after all, this is exactly how I operated all through college, 2, 3 jobs and projects and classes and all. But I got used to this (incredibly boring) 9-5 thing and now I'm like, what the hell I haven't checked my email today!

At any rate, as you already know, Sundance was faaaab....
-P Diddy, Mos Def, Pharrell, Kerri Russell, Cheryl Hines, Dakota Fanning, Parker Posey, etc. etc. etc.
-constant Stella Artois (dear god I haven't had that much Stella in all my life)
-some hot tub magic.... ooo lala
-and of course the skiing was amazing

I did finally get my bathing suit back from that guy, which went a little something like this:

"I have to work late" (for like a week)
"you still free tonight?" (via text message)
"ok meet you in front of the Virgin Megastore at 9"
"let's have drinks"
(walk for miles and miles and drink some beers)
"ok um well bye now"
"yeah bye..."
dinky hand wave, hug, etc. (no scandal in that etc. either)

and that was that. The magic of Sundance is officially over.

In other news, last weekend I woke up with newspapers and airplane bottles scattered around my bedroom, and popcorn in my sheets. I knew it was a good night even before I remembered that I had been at the Idiotarod (www.cartsofbrooklyn.com) and passed out at 8:30 pm because we started drinking around 3 and then progressed to the afterparty where I promptly vomited on my hands and had to be thrown in a cab by a random stranger. Whose email may or may not be in my bag.... I don't know where that monkeyboy@.... came from.

gotta run the kids are getting antsy, I have tons more to tell you but it will have to wait!
xoxoxoxoBon

Numero vingt-quatre

2007-01-30T09:26:00.000-05:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BON BON!!!

I hope you have a fantastic day and I will call you tonight! <33333333333333

xxxAnnie

all it takes is a little faith and a lot of heart

2007-01-22T16:04:00.000-05:00

I hope that as you read this, you are enjoying the snow and celebrity of Sundance! Please update with all your goings-on if you ever get a chance to take time out from the star-watching.
I am insanely jealous of what can only be your best adventure yet. Here I sit in my sweatpants and slippers, not working out but instead eating Trader Joe's veggie chips, trying to beef up my resume for submission to all kinds of employers, not wanting to go back out into the freezing drizzle, and you are probably chatting with some celeb-daddy whose kid wants to play with Chess. Sigh. Lucky.

When you are back in Astoria and have some time, call me up! I want to know exactly what is going on with you, miss; and I want to make grand plans and ask your opinion about internships and whatnot. I miss you. If you take pictures of your fun times, I'll trade you for some new music by the Weepies. Whaddaya say?

xxxAnnie

All the Best & Worst Days

2007-01-19T11:43:00.000-05:00

This morning I woke up and it was cold, and my eyes were puffy.
So, I put on my warmest boots and some purple eyeshadow.

I do not feel very much better.

I'm not sure if I am legitimately any sort of bipolar (though I often feel like it), but this I know: my life, my actual LIFE, is so bipolar.

Sometimes Life goes, "I'm going to let you run around the subway in your underwear and make friends and go to Brooklyn, and remember why you desperately wanted to move to New York." Also sometimes Life goes,"Hrm, I think today you can have a magically good hair day filled with all sorts of lovely new music, good weather, and laughter. And I'll let your hot new shirt be on sale. For $5.99." Then, the very next day, Life decides that I'll get bad test results and have to have surgery for something I can't remember the name of, something that sounds scary, and the only word I can remember hearing that doctor say is cancer, even though it's not actually cancer (yet). And suddenly, my very bipolar Life goes, "FUCK YOU."

See what I mean? How the hell can I have a relationship with someone who can't decide whether they even like me or not? What do you have to say to that, Life, HUH? If my Life were a person, it would definitely be throwing empty beer bottles at my head right now. Well, Fuck You too, Life. I want to cut you out. I want to make my own decisions. I want to stop being confused and wondering what will come next... brownies? health scare? The new Shins album? Coffee stain? Throw a girl a bone, dammit! Like I am not scared enough at what the hell I'm doing with myself, now I've gotta freakin treck up to some specialist on the godforsaken Upper East Side and hear all about how my body hates me.

On the flip side (when your glass is half full, there's always a flip side... how do you like that pep talk), today is my last day in an office chair, near cubicles, being corporate. And tomorrow I go to Sundance, which will certainly rock. And I am immortalized on the internet in my underwear... ah, finally my ultimate goal is realized.

So, I'll be ok, really I will, cause when Life hands you lemons, you make lemon drop shots, right? Unless you're a little bit hungover, in which case you can use those lemons in your walnut-encrusted salmon recipe or perhaps as a garnish. But I digress. Take that, Life. You are cooking for me now. And I refuse to let you fuck this one up.

xoxoxoxBon

Adventures with Kelly: Episode 2

2007-01-17T00:16:00.000-05:00

http://youtube.com/watch?v=XcidD2HFK8M

Be forewarned: there is one lyric that is kind of obscene. Really obscene. But the rest of it is the usual, "betch" and "deck" we all know and love.

xxxAnnie

No pants!

2007-01-16T13:37:00.000-05:00

Only one of many! And the whole thing isn't even uploaded yet!

You look pretty cute.

xxxAnnie

I will miss my coworker's funny links

2007-01-12T15:33:00.000-05:00

or, "if these [package] designers are making money, so can I"

my last "business" email from Topper:
Maybe you can help these guys out with their design?
http://www.zompist.com/rants06.html#23%23

I think I can.
Although I have serious doubts about SBJ wanting demons on his architectural advertising.

xoxoxoBon

Schmellow is saving my poor, frostbitten ass

2007-01-11T17:22:00.000-05:00

Today, on my way into War and Society in 20th Century America, a hawk dropped a decapitated squirrel onto the sidewalk as I approached.

Man, it was gross.

In other news, classes are thus far decent, if a bit stressful considering the crap tons of (small, novel-like) books I have to buy and begin reading. And also I emailed Lauren at her dbzco.com email address last week, asking about job specifics, and I have yet to hear from her. Do you think it got stuck in her spam filter and deleted?

I wish it would snow, darnit!

xxxAnnie

Jumping Like A Small Child

2007-01-10T09:56:00.000-05:00

oh my lord it's snowing! Just a second ago I saw a little white flurry out of the corner of my eye and now it's coming down in droves... as a girl from the deep south, where two flurries are cause for celebration (and school dismissal) I am still greatly excited by this. Picture me scrambling out of my office chair to press my nose against the glass and stare into the white sky- ahem, very unprofessional, but hell who cares- the first snowfall of the year is delicious.

xoxoxoBon

Clueless, but there for you!

2007-01-10T09:46:00.000-05:00

Disenchanted: the word of the week. Or year! It's only January, after all.

The weight of everything I don't know is absolutely killing me. Everyday I realize more and more how clueless I am, on design, on career, on people, on life.

On another note, I did quit my job, am in search of greener pastures, and will probably meet my death (or my new cardboard home) through this whole t- shirt making gig, but at least I have done something different. That doesn't involve cubicles.

And I've never been more terrified.

Luckily, it's people like Krista who keep me grounded and remind me that I am being a total drama queen and my career/life is not down the toilet. And, she writes me cute Myspace comment poems like this one:

She'll be a free woman real soon
Quit her job, now she's over the moon
Silk screening t shirts and undies
(And she nannies on Mondays)
I'm so glad she lives in the next room!

So, I guess my point is this: when you think your life totally sucks (I myself ricochet daily between being excited to work in my sweatpants and freaking out about healthcare) and/or you are terrified (by whatever), just remember
-a flair for the dramatic runs in the family
-life is full of disappointment, sometimes constant disappointment (for a little while), but when it gets to be too much,
-you have lots of people who love you and will listen to you rant or weep, depending, and will most likely make you laugh in the end.

And I'm one of them- that goes for both of you!

xoxoxoBon

Reflections from a disenchanted non-teenager

2007-01-08T11:56:00.000-05:00

All this trouble with Lisa has made me very grateful that I'm out of that house. I wish I could get her out too, of course. But this is life; this is high school; we all have to get through it.

I'm not sure where Mom and Dad find their reasoning for the things they sometimes do...I could just chalk it up to them being old-fashioned their ways and unable to see how much damage their actions do, but I think that would be giving them too little credit. I'd like to think they have some sort of "good" reasons for stuff, even if they're only good to themselves.

I couldn't believe how shocked Mom was when she found out that Lee and I went out drinking with you at UNC-G. What did she think we were doing? She can disapprove all she wants, but at least we were with our sister, and not some random dude or someone else's sibling or something. She should be glad we were doing it at a college and not in some high schooler's basement. She should be glad of a lot of things, including the fact that Lisa, aside from some evasive comments regarding NTM (and who can blame her for those?), has actually told them the truth. Geez. If they make it that hard to bring someone home, they shouldn't get mad at her for failing to do so. If they distrust her so easily, they have no one to blame but themselves when she doesn't talk to them.

And let's not even get into the fact that they are all about promoting "family unity" and they want all us kids to stick together and all that crap, and then they go behind our backs asking each of us about the others, trying to glean some information to use against us. Yeah, tattletale siblings are really loyal to each other.

Sigh. I'm sorry for the rant. I hate seeing Lisa that miserable, and I hate the fact that Mom and Dad aren't even giving her a chance to explain herself. But then, they never really gave the rest of us that either. I think it's fine if they are strict -- that is probably for the best, ultimately. But they are strict while cutting the lines of communication, and that is a recipe for disaster, which is basically what is happening right now. Sure, Lisa screwed up, but they haven't done anything terribly stellar to teach her a lesson either.

Grr. I hope your Monday is going well. Have you turned in your two weeks' yet? Good luck, Bon Bon.

xxxAnnie

ps please email me a shipping address for you? Thankee.

A very bad start to the year.

2007-01-04T16:55:00.000-05:00

As I see it, the biggest problem with living in New York City is that you have nowhere to cry. On an astronomically bad day anywhere else, you can hunker down in your car or find a deserted restroom or sidewalk somewhere and just cry your sad little heart out. Here, there are no cars (you shouldn't have to pay cab fare to cry) and certainly no deserted sidewalks or restrooms.... anywhere.

So, when you're told you might possibly have something that could turn into cancer, your credit card is declined, and you're about to get canned from your job, you are pretty much screwed (well, that was obvious) and shit outta luck when it comes to trying to release the anger, sadness, and disappointment that is life.

When life seems impossible in NYC (and it often does), where can a girl turn?

I won't bore you with the details of how pathetic, depressing, and unprofessional today's string of events have been- I just wish that there was someplace, somewhere, in this city that I could get one second of wailing out. If you're a napper, you can purchase siesta time in a pod in midtown, if you're stressed you can have a massage, if you're lazy you can have your hair professionally blown dry anytime you want. NYC has everything except privacy, but I think it's high time we got somewhere to cry, other than behind one's sunglasses on a crowded subway train.

I am going to go home and drink a bottle of wine, research health insurance, and hope that tomorrow I can get through the day without hiding out in the last bathroom stall, trying to sniffle silently. Keep your fingers crossed (and a little prayer wouldn't hurt either).

xoxoxoxoBon

New Year's 2007: Wheeee!

2007-01-02T11:53:00.000-05:00

As I have been remiss in writing to you, I feel compelled to give you plenty of good dirt as a peace offering. Let's review the highlights of New Year's 2007, shall we?

10- The hott backless Miss Sixty dress I was sheathed in (ooh la la!)
9- The astounding amount of pizza & pizza-related food items Ben & I devoured at 5 am
8- The mysterious candy corn that accompanied the massive amounts of alcohol and snack items in Peter's apartment
7- Seeing Carrie giggly and making out with hot scarf guy
6- Hearing Carrie's story of going to Brooklyn with hot scarf guy
5- Having a mighty fine view of New York City via a fire escape on Broadway
4- Not dying when I fell through the window getting on or off said fire escape... I can't seem to remember which....
3- Making out with Neil the Canadian Lawyer who went to Harvard (which Lauren agrees makes up for the fact that he's Canadian)
2- Ben photographing me making out with Neil the Canadian Lawyer
1- Being with most of my favorite people when the ball dropped and it became 2007- THE BEST YEAR EVER! (I can feel it)

How was yours? I think we are going to have the absolute best year, especially when you come to live with me next summer... I can't wait for everything!

xoxoxoBon

Cutest thing ever: Tot + New Team Member

2006-12-29T16:15:00.000-05:00

Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuude, I miss you like whoa already. I want to discuss my France plans with you. The whole Strasbourg thing is not shaping up as it ought -- the bloody frogs want me to jump through all kinds of hoops on a pogo stick blindfolded to even get them to consider letting me into their country to study. Sheesh. This is all on top of the trouble I have to go to for UNC to think of allowing it on their end -- which could very easily be denied, thus preventing me from studying abroad at all. And the various deadlines (the final of which is but a mere month and a half from now) are looming.

And I have to think of more immediate things too, like renewing my passport for Germany and registering for classes which are currently closed and sprucing up my resume so I can apply for internships. And testing my beauty products, which is probably the only fun part of all of this.

Blah. If I weren't on break and able to sleep in every day, I'd be going nutso. As it is, I'm only slightly crazy right now. I blame the overpowering essences which continue to battle each other every morning in the haze around the bathroom (it's Ralph versus Stella versus whatever crap Lee wears). They're getting to my brain, making me wacky like Weird Al interviewing K-Fed.

xxxAnnie

Silently Screaming

2006-12-18T12:29:00.000-05:00

You know that Munch painting, The Scream? I just did that in my head right now.

welcome, Monday morning.

xoxoxoBon
(more later)

Just call me the beauty queen

2006-12-11T17:33:00.000-05:00

So about a month ago, I was doing my thing that I do in the mornings, drinking coffee and checking my email and reading the News and Observer online. I checked out the front page, any sports news there may have been about my Tar Heels and then, obviously, the lifestyles section. They were running the Beauty Panel -- five people who test out various beauty/skin products and then report their findings for the benefit of the greater Triangle area.

At the bottom, there was a note which announced that Samantha, the beauty and fashion maven, was looking for new members for next year's panel. On the spur of the moment, I rattled off a quick email about my nasty combination skin and how I have no actual career path and spend all my time listening to music.

A few days ago, I got an email back.

I wanted to let you know you are one of our finalists for the Beauty Panel. Congrats! We had more than150 responses. We liked who you were, what you had to say and that you like beauty products.

It went on to detail my duties: writing a mini-bio for publication, getting my picture taken at the paper, and testing out fab new products every 5-6 weeks. Was I up for it?

OH HELL YES!

So I am the newest member of the News and Observer Beauty Panel. You shall be hearing from me for the next year as I detail the intricacies of oil-free moisturizers, quick-drying nail polishes and stinky, sticky lip balms galore. And I get to keep everything I test! Woo hoo!

So I'm sure right about now you are thinking, "...Susannah? Really?" Yes, really. I did do it on a whim and I didn't expect to hear anything back (and wasn't going to be disappointed if I hadn't) but since I did, well, now I have motivation to do my makeup every day instead of looking like a schlub. And now I can let Lisa convince me to buy her expensive powder foundation. And maybe I can even floss (cause toofs is gotta be purdy too!).

Corngranulate me! If I come across anything truly fab, I will let you know fo' sho.

But for the meantime, back to studying it is...

xxxAnnie