Hmmmm... so its 3:19 a.m. and I'm awake. Why? I have no idea. My bed has suddenly started to make noises. I'm not kidding. It has, in the last few days, developed a squeak. The kicker – it's a wooden bed, so what's squeaking, I'm not entirely sure. With any kind of movement (no, not even just THAT kind of movement), I am suddenly aware of present restlessness. So maybe that's why.
Or maybe I'm stressed – people like to blame a lot of shit on stress. You say, "My neck hurts" or "my eye is twitching" or "I'm exhausted" and they say, "Dude, it's stress" as if it's going to relieve the problem just like that. But, though I have about 692 things going on right now, I don't really feel stressed. While being pulled in every direction at the same time isn't for everyone, I've always thought I kinda like it when the demand is high. But, who knows, maybe its stress from the invisible stress that's stressing me out and waking me up.
Or, maybe its that I'm being haunted. By ghosts? Maybe – it is close to Halloween. But, more likely, haunted by memories – good and bad, pretty and ugly. By the desire to go back to something, or erase something else. Haunted by a touch, a smell, a taste that wakes me up and startles me at the realization that it's not real – not now, not this time. My sudden waking is sometimes a relief, and many other times a disappointment. The live warmth, or the smell of lavender musk, or the faint taste of chapstick is still soothing, even in my most comatic of slumbers, and when I wake up, I feel calm, loved, and lucky. But bright redness has also crept into my dreams again lately, and I push it away the best that I can, self medicating with all things new, nightly kava leaves, and sheer stubbornness of my psyche. I've come so far in 18 months and worked hard to make the harsh, bright and brassy red turn to a deep, warm and soothing red. I will not give in easily to a reappearance. So, maybe that's what has me up.
Whatever it is, its now 4:20 and I'm shivering from the winter coolness that has decided to drop in so quickly and suddenly this year. My eyelids are growing heavy again so I will creep back upstairs and into a warm bed, and hope for three more hours of uninterrupted – stress free, unhaunted, and quiet – sleep.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Where is the sun?
You have no idea how powerful you are. One gaze from across the grass, in which you hold steady and stare deep inside, and I am right back where I was so long ago. My breath catches and something deep down stirs ever so lightly, yet ever so presently. Warm, red scenes flash before me and I can almost feel you, smell you, taste you. I force myself to look away and into the sun, as if to punish my indulgence in temptation. I hate you and try my hardest to stay away from you, and just when I think I am over you, you reach out and touch me, I want so badly to push you way, but I can't. Where is the sun? Where is my punishment? You don't deserve this power, nor do you know you have it - at least I pray you don't know you have it. I don't want to be the pathetic one, the weak one, the one who was wrong. So, instead, I bury myself in others, try frantically to be interested and to be fully satisfied. But I'm losing interest fast and the last thing I remember feeling fully satisfied from was you.
Friday, June 22, 2007
For you, because I know...
As I watch the tears fill to the brim and finally pour over and down her cheeks, my heart sinks. I know how she is feeling. I know it well. The pain, the absolute and utter disbelief, and the panicked feeling that she can't breath. It suffocates her soul and rattles even the deepest part of her. Because even though she knows better, it still feels like it was all for nothing. Years of pain to save something no longer worth saving. It's over. Enough is finally enough. Her one just became her no-one. And it's unbearable.
I know that there is nothing anyone can say or do to make her feel any better. Nothing. There are no words, no actions. I cannot hug her, I cannot tell her its going to be alright or that its better off this way. I cannot tell her that in time she will feel free, be stronger, feel trust again. Because none of this matters at this moment. There's a reason they call it heartache. Because, though you are exhausted and your entire body hurts, its your heart and chest that feel the worst.
The only thing I can offer is this - a saying that I have chanted in some of my darkest hours: "Into life a little rain must fall… but we must not lose hope that the sun will soon break again." Because it will, my love – afterall, yesterday was the first day of Summer.
I know that there is nothing anyone can say or do to make her feel any better. Nothing. There are no words, no actions. I cannot hug her, I cannot tell her its going to be alright or that its better off this way. I cannot tell her that in time she will feel free, be stronger, feel trust again. Because none of this matters at this moment. There's a reason they call it heartache. Because, though you are exhausted and your entire body hurts, its your heart and chest that feel the worst.
The only thing I can offer is this - a saying that I have chanted in some of my darkest hours: "Into life a little rain must fall… but we must not lose hope that the sun will soon break again." Because it will, my love – afterall, yesterday was the first day of Summer.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Week in Review
Through the drunken wine haze, a lot happened this week. Let's see, what shall I highlight....
1. Had a raving 3 month review which emphasized even more how much I love my job. I keep waiting for the ball to drop, for that realization that its not quite as good as it seems, for someone to turn out to be a real asshole. But, hmmm... no signs of that just yet. I like this feeling.
2. Reminisced about my lovely trip to NYC. God, that was fun - "fucking amazing" is actually the agreed upon description. Charlie was a lovely host as always, and it was the perfect balance of touristy crap and just hanging out with some of my favorite people. Wow... I can't believe its over and I no longer have the countdown... sigh.
3. Next, realized I might be having feelings for someone I swore I'd never have feelings for again. I had done so well building that wall, making sure it was fairly sturdy, and even decorating it sometimes with notes of a friendship. And then it came crashing down, violently, suddenly, and grippingly. And it scared the hell out of me. Apparently it wasn't earthquake-proof. Damn it.
4. Battled a cancer scare and came out on the winning side (imagine the Rocky victory dance). After 3 months of "should have" thinking and dodging the pitiful "how are you doing" inquiries, the last moment of truth arrived: and, the final tests revealed that I could breathe easy again. Wow - I wonder how many years that little scare shaved off my now again potentially long life....
5. I dug a deep deep hole and buried the aforementioned feelings - time to rebuild the wall, one cobblestone at a time. Now that I know I live on a fault line, it'll be real strong. I've hired a few contractors to help (you know who you are). Trust me, its better this way. There's too much risk and I can't open myself up to the possibility of getting hurt again - not just yet anyway.
6. And, last, but certainly not least -- I've watched a shitload of Sex and the City (you can just call me Carrie from now on - hey, I used to at least have the hair). Roomie and I are addicted. I've seen them all how many times? Doesn't matter... we're smack dab in the middle of the series and loving it. It's pretty much complete brilliance in my mind. And perfect for the love/lust rollercoaster so many of us seem to be on right now.
So there's that. I suppose the week isn't exactly over yet - there's one more night. So who knows... something more could make the list - if you're really good, that is
1. Had a raving 3 month review which emphasized even more how much I love my job. I keep waiting for the ball to drop, for that realization that its not quite as good as it seems, for someone to turn out to be a real asshole. But, hmmm... no signs of that just yet. I like this feeling.
2. Reminisced about my lovely trip to NYC. God, that was fun - "fucking amazing" is actually the agreed upon description. Charlie was a lovely host as always, and it was the perfect balance of touristy crap and just hanging out with some of my favorite people. Wow... I can't believe its over and I no longer have the countdown... sigh.
3. Next, realized I might be having feelings for someone I swore I'd never have feelings for again. I had done so well building that wall, making sure it was fairly sturdy, and even decorating it sometimes with notes of a friendship. And then it came crashing down, violently, suddenly, and grippingly. And it scared the hell out of me. Apparently it wasn't earthquake-proof. Damn it.
4. Battled a cancer scare and came out on the winning side (imagine the Rocky victory dance). After 3 months of "should have" thinking and dodging the pitiful "how are you doing" inquiries, the last moment of truth arrived: and, the final tests revealed that I could breathe easy again. Wow - I wonder how many years that little scare shaved off my now again potentially long life....
5. I dug a deep deep hole and buried the aforementioned feelings - time to rebuild the wall, one cobblestone at a time. Now that I know I live on a fault line, it'll be real strong. I've hired a few contractors to help (you know who you are). Trust me, its better this way. There's too much risk and I can't open myself up to the possibility of getting hurt again - not just yet anyway.
6. And, last, but certainly not least -- I've watched a shitload of Sex and the City (you can just call me Carrie from now on - hey, I used to at least have the hair). Roomie and I are addicted. I've seen them all how many times? Doesn't matter... we're smack dab in the middle of the series and loving it. It's pretty much complete brilliance in my mind. And perfect for the love/lust rollercoaster so many of us seem to be on right now.
So there's that. I suppose the week isn't exactly over yet - there's one more night. So who knows... something more could make the list - if you're really good, that is
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Zoom zoom zoom
I took immensely good care of my car at first. I washed it every week, made sure it was always vacuumed out and dusted. Never missed an oil change. If someone placed their purse or their bag or anything anywhere on it, I'd quickly pick it up and look at them like "What the fuck, man?" I'd be sure to park only in well-lit areas and hit the lock button two or three times when I left it – you know, just to be sure. And, I let no one else drive it. Then, I got in an accident. And my pretty shiny baby was no longer pretty nor shiny. Still drivable, I waited a couple of months to have it fixed. And the lag time was detrimental. I let the dirt and sand pile up in the back seats, the dash became spattered with dust, and the 3000-Mile oil change became an Eh-Whenever oil change. I took no notice when purses and keys and such were set on the hood. It was like this feeling of Its Already Damaged took over the car's existence. Suddenly I didn't feel the need to be cautious and careful, and I no longer worried about what was happening to this once prized possession.
I wonder, is this what happened to my heart, too? For years I held back, worried about the condition of it if certain things happened. I guarded and cared for it, kept it clean. I rarely let anyone else handle it. But then, after a collision, it became damaged. And suddenly there was no need to be cautious and careful. Where I once tread lightly with trepidation, I now turn off censorship and inhibition and stomp right on in. And, when hurt again, I no longer feel the "What the fuck, man?" affect. Instead it is replaced by the Eh-Whatever affect. To hell with well-lit safe areas – the sexiness of low-lit danger lures me. Afterall, there's no need to keep it pretty and shiny; you see, it's already damaged.
-------------------
Well, wasn't that depressing? It amazes me that I can write such sad shit even when I am so apparently happy. Because, believe me, baby – I am ha-appy. But I like this analogy up top and considered putting a positive spin on it to match my newfound elation. I was going to stress wise instead of damaged and confident instead of careless, but quite frankly positive just isn't quite as poetic. So fuck it, depressing is what you got. And you liked it, didn't you?
As I break my cardinal rule of never acknowledging that several people read this shit I'll add this: For those of you asking – I'll attempt to provide an entertaining NYC recap blog soon, I promise. I just gotta choose a good theme to focus it around – because, believe me, there are several suitable options. So check back soon.
I wonder, is this what happened to my heart, too? For years I held back, worried about the condition of it if certain things happened. I guarded and cared for it, kept it clean. I rarely let anyone else handle it. But then, after a collision, it became damaged. And suddenly there was no need to be cautious and careful. Where I once tread lightly with trepidation, I now turn off censorship and inhibition and stomp right on in. And, when hurt again, I no longer feel the "What the fuck, man?" affect. Instead it is replaced by the Eh-Whatever affect. To hell with well-lit safe areas – the sexiness of low-lit danger lures me. Afterall, there's no need to keep it pretty and shiny; you see, it's already damaged.
-------------------
Well, wasn't that depressing? It amazes me that I can write such sad shit even when I am so apparently happy. Because, believe me, baby – I am ha-appy. But I like this analogy up top and considered putting a positive spin on it to match my newfound elation. I was going to stress wise instead of damaged and confident instead of careless, but quite frankly positive just isn't quite as poetic. So fuck it, depressing is what you got. And you liked it, didn't you?
As I break my cardinal rule of never acknowledging that several people read this shit I'll add this: For those of you asking – I'll attempt to provide an entertaining NYC recap blog soon, I promise. I just gotta choose a good theme to focus it around – because, believe me, there are several suitable options. So check back soon.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
A little validation
How about a little validation? It's all we want. We don't want "I love you". We don't want to relive the past. We don't even want affection. Just validation. We make our attempts to prove that we are over it. That we are over you. And, to prove that all of it wasn't for nothing. And even though we fear that you might think such attempts stem from desire and hope, we continue to make them – for it is necessary in our mind to make the present bigger than the past. It is necessary to plow over awkwardness, to stumble through uncertainty, and to dodge humiliation in order to show that we are strong, untouched, unemotional, and that you no longer matter. Because, quite frankly, you don't.
The loop hole, however, is that you think it is all for something more. You wonder if we are wanting more. If we are feeling more. Maybe you silently hope so – because if we did, that would be your sign that all of it wasn't for nothing. Our attempts signify to you a change in heart, a change in strength (weakness?) and you like feeling like the strong one, the important one, the one who on occasion just might still occupy our mind. It is that hope that prohibits your gift of validation to us. And it is that lack of validation that frustrates us, fucks with our mind, and on occasion even makes us hate you.
The loop hole, however, is that you think it is all for something more. You wonder if we are wanting more. If we are feeling more. Maybe you silently hope so – because if we did, that would be your sign that all of it wasn't for nothing. Our attempts signify to you a change in heart, a change in strength (weakness?) and you like feeling like the strong one, the important one, the one who on occasion just might still occupy our mind. It is that hope that prohibits your gift of validation to us. And it is that lack of validation that frustrates us, fucks with our mind, and on occasion even makes us hate you.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
New Blog - No Title
As if life hasn't thrown me enough curve balls these past 4 months, I had my purse stolen this weekend. Can you believe that? Who snatches purses these days? And who does it in an airport, where apparently security is "currently at the ORANGE level"? What. The. Fuck. Good news though: you can still fly without a driver's license. You spend a little extra time with those ever-so-grumpy guys at security, but it can be done.
All week I've been realizing the numerous random items in my purse that, damn it, I really wish I still had: sunglasses, that favorite lip gloss, my cute business card holder, and of course the various financial documents. Most recently, I remembered that in it was the Lane Bryant giftcard that I have been saving since December to buy something fun right before I go to New York. Ugh. For someone who hasn't had a dime to buy herself a damn thing all winter – that was a very difficult save. And, all for nothin'. All I can say is I hope that bitch is skinny, like size 4 skinny. She may be able to sport the sunglasses and spend the $7 cash I had in there, but damn it - she better have no use for that damn gift certificate. No, I'm not bitter at all….
Life's been good though – really good, actually. Despite a tough start to the year… 2007 just might hold some potential. I love my new job. LOVE IT. Seattle is feeling once again like home. And, my sometimes restless soul seems to be accepting some lovingly calm influence lately. Not a bad feeling at all. Yes, if I can just ride this wave for a couple more months, I might be home free for 2007.
Oh, and yes - thanks to all of my mileage-accruing credit card debt, I am headed to NYC. And, I can't wait. Just ask Charlie – I pretty much remind him everyday how damn excited I am: "Charlie, 19 days!" "Charlie, 18 days!" "Charlie, tomorrow, just 17 days!" The poor guy will be burnt out on the excitement before I even get there. I just hope he gets a second wind when I walk through that gate. I'm banking on an exciting reunion, my friend.
I don't have the money to do a SATC Fabulous NYC trip, but it should be fun all the same. I'm happy doing the free ride to Staten Island, the picnic in Central Park, and I am pretty used to cheap wine now. And, not only do I get to see Charlie, I get to hang out with Merissa AND Kevin! Three of my favorite people in one short week, one big city! Yes, I have a feeling it will be 5 very memorable days.
Charlie, JUST 16 DAYS!!
All week I've been realizing the numerous random items in my purse that, damn it, I really wish I still had: sunglasses, that favorite lip gloss, my cute business card holder, and of course the various financial documents. Most recently, I remembered that in it was the Lane Bryant giftcard that I have been saving since December to buy something fun right before I go to New York. Ugh. For someone who hasn't had a dime to buy herself a damn thing all winter – that was a very difficult save. And, all for nothin'. All I can say is I hope that bitch is skinny, like size 4 skinny. She may be able to sport the sunglasses and spend the $7 cash I had in there, but damn it - she better have no use for that damn gift certificate. No, I'm not bitter at all….
Life's been good though – really good, actually. Despite a tough start to the year… 2007 just might hold some potential. I love my new job. LOVE IT. Seattle is feeling once again like home. And, my sometimes restless soul seems to be accepting some lovingly calm influence lately. Not a bad feeling at all. Yes, if I can just ride this wave for a couple more months, I might be home free for 2007.
Oh, and yes - thanks to all of my mileage-accruing credit card debt, I am headed to NYC. And, I can't wait. Just ask Charlie – I pretty much remind him everyday how damn excited I am: "Charlie, 19 days!" "Charlie, 18 days!" "Charlie, tomorrow, just 17 days!" The poor guy will be burnt out on the excitement before I even get there. I just hope he gets a second wind when I walk through that gate. I'm banking on an exciting reunion, my friend.
I don't have the money to do a SATC Fabulous NYC trip, but it should be fun all the same. I'm happy doing the free ride to Staten Island, the picnic in Central Park, and I am pretty used to cheap wine now. And, not only do I get to see Charlie, I get to hang out with Merissa AND Kevin! Three of my favorite people in one short week, one big city! Yes, I have a feeling it will be 5 very memorable days.
Charlie, JUST 16 DAYS!!
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Above the Influence... Out in Left Field
So, as a few of you know, I have been known to be somewhat opinionated when it comes to social stereotypes and mainstream media mishaps. Well, you'll be happy to know I continue to voice my opinion when I feel so passionately inclined. After ranting about my irritation to Liz, Jenny, and my poor unsuspecting new coworkers, I sent the following email to both KISS 106.1 and The Partnership for a Drug-Free America. Read on and think of me when you hear the perfect example of yet another PSA blunder.
Dear Marcus,
I am not sure if you are the correct person to be emailing in this situation. Last weekend, I heard a commercial aired on Kiss 106.1 that really bothered me. It was a PSA by Partnership for a Drug-Free America where a young girl talks in a robotic voice about the pressures to conform and specifically to succumb to pressures to smoke weed. I am in complete agreement with PDFA's latest message to stay "Above the Influence." In fact, I think its one of the better slogans that they've used in years. Not only does it encourage kids to "just say no", but it also promotes self-determination and confidence to believe in what you want, regardless of what others may think.
However, I was disturbed to hear the message blatantly target "Indie" music directly preceding the message to "stay above weed". I am not one to necessarily promote marijuana use (especially to teenaged kids), nor am I of the belief that Indie music is the only genre worth listening to; but, it worries me that we are making connections between two things that do not innately go hand-in-hand. I would be just as concerned if the connection was made between Hip-Hop and Heroine or Rap and Cocaine. Furthermore, it seems slightly contradictory to criticize the independent music genre in an ad that is supposedly not only promoting a drug-free youth, but also independent thinking in society's young people.
Though generally its my personal tendency to think "oh they didn't REALLY mean it like that", I have come to learn in both previous profession, as well as previous education in marketing, that in fact there are NO mistakes in advertising. If no connection was actually being made between the indie music genre and the negative connotations of marijuana use, I would be interested to know how many (if any) local radio stations whose majority of playlists are made of indie-style music actually air this same PSA.
Again, I am not sure if you are the correct person to be emailing in regards to this comment, but I figured as the station's Program Director, you might be a good person to voice such an opinion to. I would be interested in knowing if you (or anyone at KISS 106.1) has any say over such decisions as to what type of advertising is selected. I've also cc'd the general sales manager in case he has any feedback or insight he might also have.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Thanks for listening,
Sara C. Watson
Dear Marcus,
I am not sure if you are the correct person to be emailing in this situation. Last weekend, I heard a commercial aired on Kiss 106.1 that really bothered me. It was a PSA by Partnership for a Drug-Free America where a young girl talks in a robotic voice about the pressures to conform and specifically to succumb to pressures to smoke weed. I am in complete agreement with PDFA's latest message to stay "Above the Influence." In fact, I think its one of the better slogans that they've used in years. Not only does it encourage kids to "just say no", but it also promotes self-determination and confidence to believe in what you want, regardless of what others may think.
However, I was disturbed to hear the message blatantly target "Indie" music directly preceding the message to "stay above weed". I am not one to necessarily promote marijuana use (especially to teenaged kids), nor am I of the belief that Indie music is the only genre worth listening to; but, it worries me that we are making connections between two things that do not innately go hand-in-hand. I would be just as concerned if the connection was made between Hip-Hop and Heroine or Rap and Cocaine. Furthermore, it seems slightly contradictory to criticize the independent music genre in an ad that is supposedly not only promoting a drug-free youth, but also independent thinking in society's young people.
Though generally its my personal tendency to think "oh they didn't REALLY mean it like that", I have come to learn in both previous profession, as well as previous education in marketing, that in fact there are NO mistakes in advertising. If no connection was actually being made between the indie music genre and the negative connotations of marijuana use, I would be interested to know how many (if any) local radio stations whose majority of playlists are made of indie-style music actually air this same PSA.
Again, I am not sure if you are the correct person to be emailing in regards to this comment, but I figured as the station's Program Director, you might be a good person to voice such an opinion to. I would be interested in knowing if you (or anyone at KISS 106.1) has any say over such decisions as to what type of advertising is selected. I've also cc'd the general sales manager in case he has any feedback or insight he might also have.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Thanks for listening,
Sara C. Watson
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Something sweet....
Be my friend.
Don't forget to love me,
Think of me in your dreams,
And promise you won't forget me.
Choose to see me when you close your eyes,
And hope for me to never leave.
It could be like it once was.
All you have to do is ask,
And we could go back,
Back to when neither of us was afraid,
Back to when we were free
To touch and love and dream,
Back to when you were you
And I was me.
Don't forget to love me,
Think of me in your dreams,
And promise you won't forget me.
Choose to see me when you close your eyes,
And hope for me to never leave.
It could be like it once was.
All you have to do is ask,
And we could go back,
Back to when neither of us was afraid,
Back to when we were free
To touch and love and dream,
Back to when you were you
And I was me.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Dreaming while breathing
So I've been doing that thing again... holding my breath in my sleep. Its so weird. I don't know why I do it, and even though it most generally accompanies a dream where I am swimming (or worse yet, drowning), I don't realize I've done it until wake up and feel the aching in my lungs. If I am drowning, I wake up just before I presumably die, my chest heaving and tight; but most of the time, I don't fully wake and don't feel the ache until the next day. I think its those times that I must dream that I suddenly acquire the ability to breathe underwater.
Last night, I was swimming - in a pool with women I feel I know, yet don't recognize. The pool was in my elementary school gym, encased in old brick and containing the bluest of Maui waters. I was swimming lengths in the same lane with a beautiful acquaintance - though I can't quite remember who it was. The person I do remember, though, is the woman standing above the pool, in an all white pantsuit and a silver whistle dangling from her neck: it's Ellen. Yes, as in Degeneres. How wierd is that? She kept blowing that damn whistle. And, I kept holding my damn breath. Until, eventually, when I inhaled slowly, shallowly, and miraculously learned I could breath in the liquid and survive moments, minutes, hours immersed in this blue heaven.
Maybe seconds later or maybe hours later, I am crawling out of straw-covered ground into an open charred field and staring at orange fire in the sky, ready to dodge sparks that might be coming my way. This time I am with men, all of whom I recognize, some of whom I love, others whom I fear. Our bodies are covered in black soot and the air is thick with black smoke. And, strangely, I do not hold my breath here; no, here, I breathe in eagerly, freely, hungrily.
Last night, I was swimming - in a pool with women I feel I know, yet don't recognize. The pool was in my elementary school gym, encased in old brick and containing the bluest of Maui waters. I was swimming lengths in the same lane with a beautiful acquaintance - though I can't quite remember who it was. The person I do remember, though, is the woman standing above the pool, in an all white pantsuit and a silver whistle dangling from her neck: it's Ellen. Yes, as in Degeneres. How wierd is that? She kept blowing that damn whistle. And, I kept holding my damn breath. Until, eventually, when I inhaled slowly, shallowly, and miraculously learned I could breath in the liquid and survive moments, minutes, hours immersed in this blue heaven.
Maybe seconds later or maybe hours later, I am crawling out of straw-covered ground into an open charred field and staring at orange fire in the sky, ready to dodge sparks that might be coming my way. This time I am with men, all of whom I recognize, some of whom I love, others whom I fear. Our bodies are covered in black soot and the air is thick with black smoke. And, strangely, I do not hold my breath here; no, here, I breathe in eagerly, freely, hungrily.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Startin' off right...
$4600 in cash, only 2 broken champagne glasses, and a black eye ---- I'd say it was a good night.
Well, we pulled it off. Friend and I put on a party that seemed to live up to everyone's expectations. It lived up to mine. We worked our asses off and still had an amazing time - not an easy thing to accomplish. After we figure out our expenses, we will present a check to Athena Partners much bigger than we anticipated at the beginning of this little project. I can't believe it! What a way to ring in the new year - with almost all of your friends surrounding you, all giving to a good cause. I hear the rumblings of an annual plan in the mix....
The Convent (who says nuns can't score?) converted quite nicely to Hotel NYE, the living room strewn with passed out bodies remnants of a kickass celebration. Its nice to know that if there were ever some sort of natural disaster and our townhouse was the only livable structure available in a 2 mile radius, we could handle it - no problem.
Time for the letdown period to kick in... I am sure that it will happen sooner than later. I get like that, you know. I work non-stop on a project and then when its over, I feel a bit lazy, a bit lost, a bit bored. It hasn't hit me quite yet - my body is in shock, exhausted with aching muscles and trying its hardest to fight off a cold (keep going, you can do it, don't give in!). But it will come soon, I know.
But now I must get to sleep - yes, I realize it's not quite 9:00 yet. Live my life these past 2 weeks and then propose an argument.
Real quick before I go, I better add a disclaimer about the Black Eye: totally innocent, and definitely worth it - we'll call it a war wound (so hold the concerned emails; I am not in an abusive relationship seeking refuge).
So, Happy New Year - and, fuck the resolutions -- just have fun in 2007, okay?!?!
Well, we pulled it off. Friend and I put on a party that seemed to live up to everyone's expectations. It lived up to mine. We worked our asses off and still had an amazing time - not an easy thing to accomplish. After we figure out our expenses, we will present a check to Athena Partners much bigger than we anticipated at the beginning of this little project. I can't believe it! What a way to ring in the new year - with almost all of your friends surrounding you, all giving to a good cause. I hear the rumblings of an annual plan in the mix....
The Convent (who says nuns can't score?) converted quite nicely to Hotel NYE, the living room strewn with passed out bodies remnants of a kickass celebration. Its nice to know that if there were ever some sort of natural disaster and our townhouse was the only livable structure available in a 2 mile radius, we could handle it - no problem.
Time for the letdown period to kick in... I am sure that it will happen sooner than later. I get like that, you know. I work non-stop on a project and then when its over, I feel a bit lazy, a bit lost, a bit bored. It hasn't hit me quite yet - my body is in shock, exhausted with aching muscles and trying its hardest to fight off a cold (keep going, you can do it, don't give in!). But it will come soon, I know.
But now I must get to sleep - yes, I realize it's not quite 9:00 yet. Live my life these past 2 weeks and then propose an argument.
Real quick before I go, I better add a disclaimer about the Black Eye: totally innocent, and definitely worth it - we'll call it a war wound (so hold the concerned emails; I am not in an abusive relationship seeking refuge).
So, Happy New Year - and, fuck the resolutions -- just have fun in 2007, okay?!?!
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