All I can say is that my life is pretty plain. I like watching the puddles gather rain. -Blind Melon

There are days when I feel like living in my household is like living inside a pressure cooker. No one ever lets up, and everybody explodes. My dad seems set on tethering me to the house. But I have no idea which direction to fly in anyways. I've gotten into grad schools, but I'm still considering working in the city, and I'm also now considering taking the LSAT's and law school (the newest flavor of the week). I feel like my back is against a wall here, even with all the options. The choices out there are so varying its dizzying. "Dizzying" is the perfect word for it, dizzying... to the point where I'm getting a headache as I look from door to door to door, wondering which one will lead me to happiness and which one will lead me to a life of stupefying mediocrity. They say that the big question mark is part of the thrill of youth. Maybe its my uptight nature, or perhaps I'm so used to a pressure cooker environment that I create one for myself when others aren't doing it for me, but in my opinion, the big question mark is just downright stressful. Right now, being psychic would be rather helpful. I think the fear is what's paralyzing. The fear of making the wrong choice, having to live with the consequences, and having no one to blame but yourself. A wrong choice, at the very least, takes years off your life. Once more, I stand in that middle ground of indecision. At the crossroads. And the question is - which way leads to higher ground.

Spin the roulette wheel baby and pick a number....

Relics of the Past

I went shopping today and I swear, I thought I saw my ex boyfriend everywhere I turned. Everyone looked like him from a certain angle. The guy working at Abercrombie, the dude looking at cd's at Tower Records, etc. It really freaked me out. Especially since I haven't thought about him in a long time. Maybe its because D got married last weekend and it had some sort of weird effect on me. After all, I only have one ex, so I guess subconsciously, I naturally associate relationships and romantic things with him (not that he was ever that romantic. but he had his moments). Still, I was really freaked out. I have to go put on some iron underwear or something. I'm obviously too desperate to be allowed in public without protection.

And the moral of this story is: Weddings are dangerous. Try to avoid them in the future due to emotional repercussions.
Prescription: Wait for it to wear off. It's only a matter of time before some guy does something to utterly disgust me and rip my rose-colored lenses off.

Priorities Priorities.

I got run over by a bike today on my way to work. The cyclist plowed right into me as I was about to cross the street, knocking me sideways off my feet. He kept apologizing and helped me up, asking me if I was okay. I was fine.

Sadly enough, the only thing I could think of at that moment was "Thank God I didn't spill my coffee."

You've dreamed a thousand dreams, none seem to stick in your mind. - Guster

Depressingly, I recently found out that the janitors in my building make more than I do. Who needs a college degree these days? If I was a janitor, I'd be making more money, AND I wouldn't have these student loans to pay off. Of course, it'd also help if I know what I want to do with my life. The financial situation would be tolerable if I knew I was working towards something.

Game Plan: Tough it out till August, and then move to California or London, hopefully for a higher salary. After all, I supposedly have the "hot" programming skills.
Question: where are all the "hot" jobs?
Answer: They're there.... they just require you to have "5-10 years of experience".

Unluckily, I will never gain that experience since people won't hire me without it. Catch-22 anyone?

Deep Thoughts:

[overheard at work]
Why do guys like to watch lesbians?
Where do homeless people poop?
Where do all the dead pigeons go?
Where are all the missing socks? (in a cave in Afghanistan)

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end. - Semisonic

My friend got married today. It marks the end of an era. It will never be "D and N, single girls extraordinaire!" ever again. I'm now alone in the club. And somehow its not half as fun when you're in it by yourself. On the bright side, I met a lot of people today. I think i have a crush on the sexton at the church where D got married. Is that sacrilegious? He had this great smile.... I'm such a sucker for great smiles.

Is it me or is it you?

Sometimes you hit one of those patches where you're generally feeling unsatisfied with life. Those patches usually mean that its time to move on, make new friends, cut out the dead growth, and make a fresh start. According to the paper, a fresh start is what the economy is supposed to be doing right now. Considering that I'm still making squat, corporate america is one of the factors of my bitterness. Regardless, I'm still one of the suckers waiting out the 12 months. There isn't exactly a wealth of employers trying to snap me up at the moment. Judging from this site, I'm not the only bitter one. But hey, this is life, you suck it up, and get along the best that you can. You try and do the little things that make you happy, like shopping, and beating up on your little brother once in a while. My little brother never had any qualms about hitting girls back, so I settle my frustrations by rearranging my closet.

And yes, I still walk around work with my jeans un-buttoned. No one's noticed yet. Due to professionalism, I discreetly wear longer shirts. Its a small price to pay for abdominal comfort. Especially after lunch.

The Virtues of Button-Fly

After wearing my brand-new button fly jeans, I've decided that I'm never going back to the zipper.

FACT: Everyone's stomach pushes out a bit when they sit down. This causes uncomfortable "digging" of your jeans into your stomach. Usually, you alleviate it by pulling the waistband up a bit so that it digs under your ribcage instead. A rather poor solution since it just moves the location of discomfort.

However, if you unbutton your jeans, the comfort level skyrockets. And, if you're forgetful like me, when you stand up to walk to your manager's office with a question (and forget to re-button your jeans), you don't have to worry about your zipper coming undone and flashing your panties at your co-workers. The button fly will always stay closed. I will never sit in discomfort again.

Just make sure to wear a longer shirt.

He ain't nothing' but a dog.

....I wish. Snowboarding yesterday was cancelled, so I substituted for my mountainous exercise with something I like to call power-shopping. I left the mall with a new pair of boots (and yes, they're black, just like the other two pairs I have at home), a new shirt, and a whole lot of guilt. Even I had a hard time convincing myself that I really "needed" any of this. Especially since I just went shopping last week.

After shopping, I stopped by my friend D's home to help her with the name cards for her Wedding. Yes, the big W word. Surrounded by white frou-frou and struggling to make the folds in an origami bird that would make it look like it was "bursting" out of the name card.... I suddenly felt like a square peg in a round hole, would I ever be doing this? The whole M-thing that is - Marriage. D is only two years older than me in human-years, but she must be decades ahead of me in emotional-years, which makes me wonder, am I an emotional stump? Right now, the thought of marriage seems completely foreign to me. Its not even a "sometime in the future" sort of concept. Its more of a "huh?" sort of idea. The mental image of me in a white dress with a veil makes me want to chuckle. It looks like an SNL sketch, outlandish, and out of sorts. But all this wedding brouhaha has taken its toll on me.

After watching hours of E! Celebrity Weddings, flipping through Martha Stewart's "Weddings", and going through countless Bride magazines with D, I've come to a few conclusions. I want a large extravagant wedding. I can compromise on the large part, but extravagant is key. It must be outdoors, on a grassy cliff, with flowers strewn everywhere. I'll wear white, but I won't wear a veil. Just hair blowing in the wind. I have the still-life image perfect in my head. Once I put it in motion, I watch myself tripping on the way to the altar.... the sky becoming overcast as it starts to rain... and the "I Do's" lost in a clap of thunder. As for the groom, forget it. Right now, D's pug puppy is happier to see me than any guy ever is. Dogs are great like that. They're like men in a lot of ways. They drool on you a lot, they're big and dumb, and they always want to stick their nose in your crotch. But, dogs always love you, they always make a fuss over you when you walk in the door, and they're always consistently overjoyed to see you. Which is more than I can say for most men. But men aren't as easy as dogs. Tons of dogs like me, can't say the same for men.

Puts a nice positive spin on the age old comment of "men are dogs", doesn't it? If only it was that easy...

Tomorrow: Courage Under Fire

I'm going snowboarding tomorrow!! If I'm lucky, maybe I won't hurt myself this time. However, I'm planning on going prepared. Kneepads under my snowpants, a couple of sweaters tied around my waist for butt-padding, and wristguards. Sure I'll look like a freak on the slopes, but at least I'll be unharmed.

On that note, let me leave you with some interesting tidbits about our presidents.
Kinda makes you realize that hey, even the big guys are real people, prone to real problems (and real temptations...ahem Clinton). You have to admit though, saying you gave the president a blowjob in the Oval Office gives you some major bragging rights under the "kinkiest place you've had sexual relations" category in truth or dare.

The sin of hubris.

I was the backup date!!! The nerve...

"Perhaps it is music that will save the world." - Pablo Casals

Sometimes I feel like the music running inside my head all the time is the soundtrack to my life.

I'm a rock sing-along sort of chick, a hiphop dance-along sort of grrl, and a classical nerd to the fullest.

In between molecules of oxygen and carbon dioxide. - Weezer

One of the most insecure feelings is when you hang up the phone and you're not quite sure what you've just agreed to.

1. You're hanging out with someone in the evening. He didn't say "hang out", he has an extra ticket.
2. But you don't know him that well, so he's definitely not a "pal" that you'd spend time with for kicks.
3. You, of course, agree. Hey, its free.
4. And it doesn't strike you until after you hang up the phone... wait a second...is this a date?
5. The idea sits uncomfortably in the back of your head, unresolved.

I seem to find myself in these sorts of situations relatively often. Obviously, I don't learn.

Germs: imported from Boston

After spending the weekend (Thursday through Sunday) in the New England area, I've come back sick as a dog. My nose is stuffed, I have a hacking cough, and everything sounds muffled to my ears due to sinus pressure. However, I'm proud to say that I've been extremely efficient in my traveling. I saw my roommate on Thursday night, my cousin on Friday for lunch, friends from Taiwan on Friday for coffee, and spent the rest of the weekend seeing friends at Brown in Providence. But now its back to the grindstone.

I bet lunch would be less of an ordeal if my nose wasn't stuffed. As it is, I can either a) suffocate since I can't breathe with my nose or b) chew with my mouth open. Neither are particularly appealing options.

::email nine::