I never said I was smart…

I was in class this evening and decided that I would take notes with my beautiful green pen. During our break, I went grab a couple of handouts from the teacher’s desk. When I returned, my pen was gone. I looked everywhere. My bags (three), my notebooks (two) my pockets (eight, it was an overall day), all turned up sans green pen. Needless to say, I was devastated.

Fast forward to now. I was getting ready for bed when I discovered my pen safely nestled in my ponytail. I’m a genius. A genius with a green pen.

item 18: finding miss meliss

While I love making lists, it is on rare occasion that I put them to use.  Shopping lists end up in the wrong bag, to do lists end up on the first page of unused Moleskines, and my 101 list seems to be going nowhere.  

On New Years Day  (okay, yesterday), I looked over to see if there were any that I might check off.  Happily, there was one:

too many holes in my cone of silence…

In this wonderful technological age, I am confronted with too many options for communications, each one easier than the next. We can find anyone in a heartbeat. Oceans become mere puddles. The only time the world feels big is on an airplane. It isn’t like the days of yore. If I wanted, I can stay in touch with all my friends until my dying day. It is so easy. Therein lies the problem.

Easy.

Overnight, easy disappeared.

Last night, I said goodbye to a friend. Not just a fare thee well. See you later. Hasta la pasta. It was an institute the cone of silence, end it now for our own good, the misery is temporary goodbye. It was one of those we will never be able to explain this to anyone and get away with it so sayonara forever kind of things.

Horribly enough, this is the easy option.

So I beg of you my dear friends. How do you make someone disappear? Do you delete him from your phone? Block him from chats? Frontal lobotomy?

I’m not all Genghis Got Her Groove Back. That’s not what this is about. The difficulty of this easy relation is that somewhere along the way, the friend part became a little too… I have no idea.

I am not sure, but I think that my heart is a little broken.

i might be pooped!

There is a sign that a gal might be exhausted, and it is this. A very few minutes ago, I found myself sobbing hysterically in an apartment in Astoria while watching Disney’s “Ice Princess.” Seriously.

It was the part of the movie where the skater grrl experiences a disastrous moment (she face plants her triple lutz) in her long program of the regionals, and she is filled with despair. Just when all hope begins to seep from her downtrodden spirit, she spots her mother in the crowd. Did I mention that she spots her mom while spinning?

Spot a face. Turn. Familiar face. Turn. Is that mom? Turn. I think it is. Turn. I need her support. Turn. It’s her! Turn. Is she mad? Slow the turn. She is smiling. Turn. Losing momentum. Come to a stop. Stare. Smile. There is a pregnant pause as she is filled with the joy of mom support. Juiced up by the happy grimace of Joan Cusack, our heroine triple loops her way to a second place finish. Well heck. I ain’t made of stone! Tears, ugly face, everything. Then, I realized what I was doing. “What the hell is wrong with me?!” Clarity followed by hysterical laughter.

So very pooped.

This has been a spectacular weekend. To start, I can finally say that I have been to Long Island. Boy did I! After a harrowing experience at the airport, a near miss at Islip, and a long, long drive out to East Hampton, the ensuing weekend with the newly married Rohs was a blast and a half. The wedding was picture perfect, not to mention fun, fun, FUN! Major credit where credit is due: best plus one ever! Major shout out to Mr. Math for making a good weekend great. Nothing to do with anything, but the mushroom to the left was part of the meal. And by the way, that isn’t a mushroom. It is actually a potato. The funny thing was that while everyone at the table was eating it, they were seriously bummed that it wasn’t a mushroom.

Anywho, after a fantastic weekend in the Hamptons (gosh I love saying that), I have settled in for the short haul at the home of Miss Boom Boom Bruschi. She is one of those longtime friends. You know the deal. You lose touch, you find it again. It feels like nothing has changed, although everything is completely different. I think that might be an ongoing theme in my world. YEESH! How’s that for a Doogie moment? Someone needs to go to bed.

confrontation, doogie style…

I love McSweeney’s anthology. I happened upon it many moons ago because it came with a TMBG soundtrack (yes a soundtrack for an anthology).

I think that I love them most of all for their crack investigative reporting. Through hours of mind-numbing reading, and brain crushing VI conversions, they have uncovered the lost journals of Doogie Howser, MD.