Walking Contradiction

Half of the time I see myself at UCLA if I get into their Library Science program, where I would have to own a car again and somehow afford simple living in a bigger and more expensive city.  The other half of the time I see myself at one of the smaller (west-coast only) schools that I am applying to for the same program in a place that is smaller and cleaner.  My realist side knows I want to live somewhere with a big yard and where I can bike year-round.  I did my undergrad in the middle of the ghetto (Olney) and moved to Northern Liberties before it was the "cool" place to be.  I think it is only natural that I crave nature and even isolation at times. But, I won't bike or let alone be outside for more than two minutes unless it is 60 plus degrees.  I will turn into an unapologetic raging bitch as a matter of fact, and I'm getting pissed off just thinking about it.  I lead a pretty simple lifestyle, with the exception of as many adventures I can afford and fit in, and don't give a shit about material things with the exception of books.  You can't put a price on peace of mind and putting an end to restlessness and even the warmth here isn't coming close to providing either.  

This time last year I was in California falling in love with a beautiful introvert who somehow turned my stone heart much softer.  This time this year I am an overly emotional crazy mess, left wondering if anybody ever really knows anybody.  I think technology has ruined true forms of human communication and am craving a weekend away alone somewhere, to just think and reflect on the multitude of intense emotions that run through me constantly.  When did it become so wrong and so impossible to have a couple hours to yourself with no interruptions?  My time to make decisions that will pretty much define the next couple years of my life is getting shorter and shorter.  This icon of a red hourglass that I always perceive in the back of my mind terrifies me along with these spurts of intense determination that always pass a little too quickly.  I don't understand why I always act like I'm so emotionally strong and untouchable when the truth is that I find visible happiness and sadness to be the most amazing thing in the world.  The other morning I was reading the Metro and there was an article about a dog fighting ring that was broken up and the picture above the article made me cry in public.  A damn picture of a happy puppy literally had me wiping tears off my face at 8am on the el.  Of course I put sunglasses on so I didn't look like a total nutjob- but everyone was too busy looking at their phones to notice anyway.  What is my point?  I don't really feel like having one right now, I'm stressed with deadlines at work and just felt like rambling.  I'm also very seriously considering getting botox in my armpits for overactive sweat glands.  What I can wear to work and in real life is limited, I have some problem that if any material is sitting on that part of my body, there are massive sweat stains in less than 5 minutes, even in air conditioning.  Yeah...some people have real problems.  Maybe I should just figure out myself before worrying if someone else is going to fit into the life I envision for 2 people.  I guess I can always get a dog if I have to sleep alone.

My musings of a sporting event

Last night my job led me to work a booth at Jewish Heritage Night at the 76ers game.  Let me begin by saying I despise sports- the sights, the sounds, the smells, I feel angry just thinking about the fact that these athletes get paid millions of dollars a year to run around tossing balls in various shapes while the majority of the human race is struggling to pay for housing and feed their families.  Back to the game...the first booth I come across is for a charity (?) called Beauty without Borders (WTF does that even mean?) staffed by 2 tall young women with bleached out and severely teased blond curls, caked on make-up and sky-high heels.  At first they looked like they were going to pull me aside to spew off their spiel, but I gave them an amused, no-way-in-hell do I care look just in time.  Immediately, Bimbo #1 eyes me up and down and looks knowingly at Bimbo #2 and literally starts fake laughing very loudly in a mocking tone.  Oh, I'm sorry does my all black ensemble complete with ponytail, flat shoes, and bare cheeks offend your tranny-liciousness AT A BASKETBALL GAME?  I swear on my life Bimbo #1 follows me into the bathroom...at the sinks, I forced a lady-butt-burp and smiled right at her.  It was my way of saying I have a nicer ass, better lips, and possibly a few million more brain cells.  Cher from Clueless would say she was a Full-On Monet.

I spent the first two quarters of the game people watching and attempting to engage some fans in conversation about our magazine and newspaper as well as our new American Jewish History Museum.  90% of the people there were very much like the characters in the Mike Judge directed movie "Idiocracy" (an absolutely brilliant movie despite the majority of bad reviews out there).  I do not mean to sound like a mean, hate-filled person but almost everyone there was overweight.  I understand some people have health problems, low metabolism, under-active thyroids, etc but do you REALLY need extra cheese on your X-TRA LARGE X-TREME FRENCH FRIES.  And are you really going to spend a wad of twenties in the Fan Gear store on cheap branded T-shirts that hundreds of others will wear as well.  FUCK. What is wrong with people??!!

At halftime, I went to get some food with one of my co-workers and as we stood in line I wondered out loud how a popular chain in Philadelphia got away with charging $14.00 for a small bowl of fries with Old Bay seasoning and 3 small chicken fingers.  The woman standing in front of us turned around and gently explained that "you pay for the name".  I already felt like a fool for agreeing to Chickies and Petes but hey, I could expense the large cup of crappy beer that I was desperate for at this point.  The total for 2 people was $40.00 and I knew I had enough of this place.  I downed my beer, bummed a cig, joked about trying on a yamaka, and was ouuta there.

I am thinking about making a series of half-serious, half-comedic videos about the state of humanity for YouTube...but first I am going to write a short horror script (Title: Whore Moans at Midnight) get it- whore moans, instead of hormones? yukyukyuk.
And for dinner?  I plan on spending a max of $25 on groceries and making a fresh taco salad, and homemade granola for me and my hunbun :)

Kept the tags on my Poker Dress

Gambling runs in my genes.  For as long as I can remember I have had in depth conversations with both my grandparents and my dad about different games, casinos around the world, and strategies for winning.  These days I tend to win when I play because I know the games well, count cards, read people's expressions, and practice self control by not drinking one Bloody Mary per every 5 hands of blackjack!
ANYWAY...I thought it would be fun to be the one running the show for once, dealing hold em...at The Union League on Broad St...for a bunch of rich old duded (or as my bff CJ Ward calls them, Republican Fingers, eeewww).  The coordinator made it seem like it was some kind of secret society (which I'm totally down with) so I was instructed to say I was there for the "Statistical Association".  Upon arrival, I said just this to the guard with just the quickest and slyest of eye rolls.  The large and I'm assuming gay security guard chuckled and said "Girlfriend, please, you are here for the poker, don't play games with me."  I nodded and he directed me to a grand staircase, letting me know there was a fully stocked bar in the poker room. (Must I explain why I mesh so well with gay men?)
The game eventually began as as the night went on I drank better and better licquor and managed to deal the cards like a pro.  My liquid confidence tempted me to try all sorts of twisty wrist techniques and I rocked the shit out of them all.  My only mistake was getting lost on a bathroom break and wandering into a room of younger Republican fingers staring at some crappy art on the walls and then down at their smart phones.  This place already looked and felt like The Stanley Hotel from The Shining and a room full of silent wierdos reinforced that creepy nostalgia.  By the end of the game, my purse was full of cash and I was invited back to be a permanent dealer for future games without getting hit on once (WIN).  Downstairs in the lobby was one of the RF's that tipped me best, having no common ground left, all I could drunkenly muster was "Nice meeting you, Uhhh..do you know if the Broad St Line is still running?"  And yes, I bought a dress for the occasion and kept the tags on it.  Will be returning it and buying yoga classes and the entire cheese aisle of Trader Joe's.

Spring Has Broken

I have been at my new job as the Marketing Coordinator for another Philadelphia publishing company for about 6 weeks now and something about it has been making me push myself mentally and also take really good care of myself.  I have been working in sales/marketing/publishing in Center City since I graduated from La Salle in 2007 and since then have learned that I somehow want to make a career out of reading books.  I also know that I need to live somewhere with a warm climate year round.  All winter long I am constantly consumed with negative thoughts about Philadelphia and worry incessantly about what is next.  But, today, on this first semi-warm day  I feel beyond content sitting on a park bench with a delicious latte made by the absolute love of my life and a cigarette (I'm down to less than 5 a day for the most part).  I feel accomplished in my new job and confident about my grad school search, everything is near perfect for now.  I feel comforted looking around Rittenhouse Square- a lawn where I have had many lunches, Lacroix to my right where I worked for a few months during somewhat of an existential breakdown, cute dogs galore, and even the bums.  My plan is to begin grad school on the West Coast in January but until then I will enjoy every day in a city that has been very forgiving of my hatred and once out of control lifestyle.  It is here that I have made myself, have unique and insanely loyal circles of friends, an amazing mother (even if she calls me 5x a day), and the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.  Not bad...kind of strange that Thanksgiving is in November?