pretty crabby

"You've changed your place in this world..."

One year ago next weekend I took a trip to my mom's in Vermont. On that trip I sat in a bar and had a conversation (in which I may or may not have cried a little) about something I knew would never work out. Something I was finally ready to say goodbye to, that I knew I could finally let go of.

Next weekend I will go to Vermont again. And that thing I was giving up on a year ago? That thing will be driving me there.

Life is so weird. And sometimes, shit works out.

The itching and the burning.

I know it is so very over to write about what search strings people use to find me but all I have to say to the person who found me by searching for "wheat pussy girls" is that it sounds like some kind of a yeast infection to me.

They make a cream for that, baby.

Mission Improbable

Dear Tom Cruise,

So, well. Hmm. I just don't know where to begin.

I guess I should start this letter by being honest and saying I never really cared for you in the first place. I remember when my friend in 9th grade decided she LOVED the movie Cocktail and tried to make me watch it. Tom, I couldn't even stomach it then and I was thirteen. I loved Dirty Dancing and the New Kids on the Block, but you, Tom. My immature tastes had already surpassed your mediocre talent.

I remember once when I saw you on Oprah in the 90's. You were there with your cherubic wife, Nicole Kidman (yes, she was sort of cherubic once before she became a botoxed alien who has a weird affinity for effeminate rock and country stars) and Opie talking about Far and Away. You were sort of funny (sort of) and for a brief while I tolerated you. But maybe it was because you were kind of in the background and your big toothy grin and scary Manson lamp eyes were not always thrust into our faces, like they are today.

Now, I seriously just don't know what is up. You scare me and I fear that aliens have taken over your body. I mean, I never thought you were that WITH IT from the start but now....well. All the talk about the silent births and the drugging of kids and the scary laugh. OH MY GOD, THE LAUGH. Seriously. I know you don't like drugs and you think they are SO BAD AND EVIL but you might want to look into taking a valium or maybe just having a cocktail to take the edge off. You are freaking me out, Tom. I feel pretty confident in saying that you are freaking US ALL out. Even Oprah was afraid.

Most of all, Tom, what in the holy name of hell have you done to Katie Holmes? Oh, right, I know - it's "Kate" now. You had to change her name too. Did you put something in her water? Oh, right, I KNOW, you don't believe in drugs. I can't even begin to explain how weird I find the whole Katie/Kate situation. WHAT IS GOING ON THERE? I keep looking at magazines in the supermarket, trying to see a clue in her vacant expression and some kind of hint in her sad caffeinated eyes (I mean the girl is ALWAYS going for coffee. That is going to be one jumpy fetus). But, nope. Nothing. I don't even know what to say about it, Tom! It's all SO WEIRD.

So, now I am thinking this is what you should do. You should take your zombie bride/faux fiancé/WHATEVER and your test tube science baby and go far far away to an island or something. You're wearing us all out. We're tired of seeing you. I don't know ONE PERSON who likes you or finds you to be a good actor. In fact, lately, people have been saying they HATE YOU. And these are people who BELIEVE IN DRUGS so they are already fairly mellow!

Don't go away mad, Tom. Just go away.

Yours,
Emily

April showers bring May flowers, all in the month of June.

Happy Easter, Internet! Did the rabbit come to your house? I remember when Lucie was two or so and Elaine was explaining the Easter Bunny to her. She became slightly horrified and just kept saying "bunny no kiss me!" He could come in the room, he could leave her candy, but he better not fucking kiss her. Hands off, Big Bunny.

My life has been sort of crazy lately. But in a good way. My job is in full-ish swing and so far, so good. I do have one slightly weird lady there. At one point I buzzed her for a phone call and said "hey, Weird Lady; Paula is on line 1 for you". Awhile later Weird Lady came to me and said "Oh, I actually like to have you screen my calls" (some people don't care, some like them screened. I already knew she wanted them screened which is WHY I TOLD HER IT WAS PAULA). I looked at her and said "Yeah... PAULA". Um. What?

Last weekend I went away some friends. They have a three year old boy who at one point in the weekend said to me, "Emily, I have to tell you something; I love you." It was kind of sweet. We were also comparing freckles at one point and when I showed him my arm he said "oh, that's too many, baby!" He cried when we left, yes, we are THAT cool.

In a few weeks my mom is moving from Vermont to Michigan (where she is from). My parents moved to Michigan in 1975 (or thereabouts) and even after she and I moved to Massachusetts for a couple years, eventually we went back to Vermont again. I have been thinking about how i won't be going there as much now either, and that feels strange. I am fully HOME in Boston now but I still sort of feel like a Vermont girl. You know, with the love of cheese and everything. In two weeks I will be there for her and a little party at which there will be friends I have known my entire life. I don't know when I will see them all again, but I know they will always be in my life. That is comforting enough for now.

I am not sure what else to write about right now. Again, life has been fairly relationship centric lately and all is really well. I feel like sometimes I am not sure what happened. Where the turn was made and how I ended up where I am. So much can happen in a year.

I hope Spring is happening and birds are singing, wherever you are.

Return from Exile.

Hi. Did you miss me? Yeah, I know. You're totally right. Let's never fight again!

In the week or so that I have been gone, some things have happened while other things have not. I don't actually know what that means, but what the hell, I'm leaving it. I have cramps, which are manifesting into some kind of back labor or some bullshit and I am hunched over in pain. I thought pills were supposed to make this shit BETTER, and instead I feel worse but it is like ALL AT ONCE and then it goes away. Is this better?? I may be sort of delirious. ANYWAY.

I have these kind of weird bugs in my kitchen. And before you get all grossed out I should say that there are only a few of them and they are really small. I have dubbed them "smooshy bugs" for the way that I can simply crush them with whatever happens to be sitting around and then they sort of magically turn to dust. Yes, it all makes me feel big. And strong. And powerful. Now come right over here by me and I will crush you with this spoon! M-wahahaha! (that is my evil laugh). Today though things took an evil and disgusting turn when I poured some pasta into boiling water and noticed about 25 bugs floating, suddenly boiled for all they were worth. I felt sort of bad, and horrified actually. And then I screamed. Because EW. Then I threw everything in my cupboard away. Apparently these are some kind of wheat/pasta/carb loving bugs. But I think the source of them was the aforementioned pasta which was a generic brand of mac and cheese, so perhaps I should have known better. These smooshy bugs do not have expensive taste.

Oh, while I was screaming and ranting about bugs and running in and out with the door open, Elroy decided it would be a good time to venture outside into the rain. Last week I decided he could go out, you know, maybe for a minute, and he kind of just stood there with this "WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!?!? WHERE AM I!?" sort of look on his face before he turned and ran back inside. My 19 pound cat is not very brave, actually. But today! Today was different and out he went. And this time it was sort of like "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON AND WHAT IS THIS WATER FALLING ON MY HEAD!" Yet, he carried on and tried to run up the slippery stairs to my neighbors porch. He kind of slid around on them and then managed to pull himself up while I swore at him and told him to get the hell inside now, dickface. For some crazy reason, he did not reply! Then I had to put shoes on and by the time I opened the door again he was sliding back down the stairs, begging to come in. Pussy quitter jerk*.

In big news, I have gotten a job. And it is a real permanent job which is something I have not had since I quit The Horrible Job Where I Cried At My Desk Every Day in the fall of 2003. Which also means I haven't had benefits in that long and have MAYBE not been to the doctor or dentist since then either. Whatever. THings are fine! I have all my parts. And they are mostly okay. But now, I can go to the doctor and get poked and prodded like the rest of you. Yay?

The best part about This New Job is that it is a 10 minute walk from my house. This means many things including the fact that I will be able to sleep until 8AM and still get to work on time AND that I will be free of the daily hell that is the MBTA. Haha! No more waiting in the cold! No more fighting for seats! No more getting annoyed when the asshat next to me keeps hitting me with their bag and/or newspaper! There are many other reasons why this is a good job for me, those are just a few.

I thought I was going to start Thursday but there is this whole rigamarole of a Background Check. For some reason, I fear this. And it is not because of that time I robbed the bank or because of that time I killed that guy in Reno, just to watch him die. It is actually because of my credit. Oh, my bad credit. I keep telling myself that they wouldn't NOT hire me just cause I have some outstanding bills but now they will KNOW. They will see my bad credit all laid out for them and that makes me feel like a huge loser. I hate thinking about it. I hate knowing it is there. And the whole reason (well, part of the reason aside from the important shoes and bags factor) that I need a job is to pay this shit off. Anyway. It's worrying me. I just want to START THE JOB already. Let's go.

I also wanted to mention that Kim at Fresh Hell is doing these very funny podcasts now called What I Watched on TV This Week. Some of the shows she talks about, I don't even watch but I listen to her and laugh while I clean my apartment and she always makes good points. And on the most recent one she happens to read part of email I wrote her about Tyra Banks and the wonder that is America's Next Top Model. So, check it out if you have any interest in TV or hearing my fabulous input. And I know you do.

That's all I've got right now.

*I am pretty sure I borrowed the phrase "pussy quitter" from an email from Miss Sarah Brown. I don't want to steal anything on purpose, but sometimes I don't actually remember. This time I did. Amazing.