Bleah....

That generally sums up my feelings of late. I am in a little bit of a crisis mode over the state of my life. I feel like that should be a speech I give to myself once a year. You know, on a random weekday night, just sit down with a beer and a journal and say, "Self, this is where you stand. You are unemployed by choice, (and how stupid was that?!), you know what you want to do professionally, which is more than I can say for your professional growth since, I don't know...1996, and your hair has finally grown out to a nice length, which is also more than I can say for you hair since 1996. You have no money, but that's ok, because you're wearing jeans. (shout-out to double A) Designer jeans that make you look like you have an ass, which is nice, but seriously, you really must give the rest of your wardrobe a chance to get into the rotation. You have fantastic friends, but you never see them because you have chosen to exile yourself to never-never land. Self, you need to buck up, figure your shit out and take some action."

Yeah. So I have also been daydreaming a lot lately about backpacking through Europe. I think it all started last weekend when I watched a Rick Steves pledge special on PBS. He went to this obscenely picturesque Swiss town and ate cheese. I want to be there. I want to eat Swiss cheese. I want to drink German beer and see Rolf and Sandra (Hi Rolf & Sandra!) and eat some waffles. But I need about 2 grand to do this. I'd best get my ass moving on that job, eh?

Hurricane # 4

"Since when have you not dressed like a hooker to go get a beer? Come on, I've been out with you! :) " - Sheila on hearing that I wasn't quite fitting into the Orlando bar scene.


So tonight, we took a trip up onto the roof of the parking garage, because that is what one does during a hurricane. It was windy. And rainy. Actually, it was just windy, because once it started raining, I was like, hell no, I'm going back inside. But there are a surprising number of people up on the roof during a hurricane. My favorites were a foursome that were packing a styrofoam cooler full of beer and vodka. Excellent! The one guy was wearing a "Canada" baseball hat, which I was happy to see; unfortunately he ended up being a Yankees fan. But one of the girls and I started talking, and she saw that I was wearing a Galway t-shirt. It turns out, of course, she lived there.

"Oh! I was there, too!" I say. "Really," says she, "when were you there?" And before I can do the math and answer, she clutches my arm and is like, "You were there in 2000! I totally bought bread from you at the bakery! WE KNOW EACH OTHER!!" Well, you can imagine my shock.

So it turns out that we totally know each other, or should have while we lived there. I do have a hazy memory of her; she worked at a cafe with my friend Dave. And we know all the same people, and had a wonderful time reminiscing. She, like all of us pseudo-Irish-expats, REALLY wants to go back. So, I am all pumped that I have a cool new friend in Florida, right? Yeah, but wait, this is MY life we're talking about. So, naturally, she lives in BOSTON. Sheesh. You'd think god was trying to tell me something...

Procrastination

So I am supposed to be using my time wisely this fine afternoon (ie doing my reading for class tonight, finding more special ed. schools at which I might have a chance of becoming employed, doing my reading for class tonight, walking downtown to see if any purveyors of fine liquors might require my assistance, doing my reading for class tonight, or, at the very freaking least, washing the dishes from dinner last night), but I seem to be otherwise occupied.

"With what?", the astute reader might ask...

And I'm glad you did. More procrastination to ensue.

I have become totally addicted to the Clan of the Cave Bear series. I know, I know, bad Cro-Magnon smut, but I find myself at the end of the fifth book wondering how Ayla is going to deal with her new family responsibilities, and when Jondalar is going to grow a spine already. Lindsay made me rescue the first three books from the horrid book-trashing that caps off Carpe Librum, for which I (and my Philosophy of Education grade) am grateful.

Also, as the novelty of actually having DSL! in my own home! has not yet worn off, I find myself greatly occupied with surfing the web. (Incidentally, do people still use that phrase? "Surfing the Web" always looks a little early '90's to me. As does "phat". Some guy on his way to the gym referred to the dog as "phat" the other day, and I got a little offended, thinking, the dog really doesn't have weight to lose, assmunch. Luckily, I didn't open my mouth before realizing that this individual was still packing his mid-90's thesaurus of rad expressions. He was also wearing way too much gold jewelry for the gym. heh.)

I am a faithful reader of Miss Alli's recaps of the BEST SHOW EVER, The Amazing Race on Television Without Pity, one of the BEST SITES EVER. And, I have been sucked into the vortex of the various blogs that serve as accoutrement thereof, namely Tomato Nation and Frolic and Detour. Add in the Dirt Dogs, and your friendly hometown newspaper, and you've pretty satisfactorily accounted for a couple hours, there.

And now I have to go read four chapters before 6. Good luck, me.

It's September 17th, Do You Know Where Your Red Sox Are?

Why yes I do! They're kicking ASS in New York! Yeah, Red Sox! Yeah, Johnny Damon! Yeah, Manny!

Oh, and also? Sit down, Joe Torre. And have a nice, tall glass of shut the hell up while you're at it.

As some of you know, I live with a dog. Guapo, as he likes to be called, is stubborn, lazy, and a bit of an attention-whore. He is also cute, cuddly and has a yawn the size of the Grand Canyon...

Erin go Bragh

Yesterday afternoon, I got on the #13 bus that would take me out to UCF for my Tuesday night class. As I boarded and tried to feed my $1.25 into the little money meter, the driver starts talking very loudly, "Hey, on St. Patrick's Day when I was younger, I used to wear a pin that said 'Kiss me, I'm Irish'! But none of the girls would kiss me; they just laughed and said, "You ain't Irish, you're Puerto Rican!" He then starts laughing uproariously while pulling the bus out into traffic, which was slightly alarming. I smiled and laughed as well, but as I made my way back to my seat, I was puzzled. What the hell? Why tell me that story? Did he want a kiss? It's not St. Paddy's Day... And then I looked down and realized I was wearing my green "Everyone loves an Irish girl" t-shirt. And it all made sense.

Perhaps I should make my little bus driver a shirt that says "Kiss me, I'm Puerto Rican!"

Go Pats!

It's opening night of football season - yeah! (Since there will most likely not be a hockey season this year, I have shifted all my winter sports excitement to football.) My mom is sitting at home in her Ty Law jersey, yelling at the t.v., and my dad is AT FOXBOROUGH, watching the game live with his friends. Dink. And I am in Orlando, trying to teach the bulldog an end zone dance.

Growing up, football was always a part of the weekend. It wasn't like we HAD to see the game, but it was on in the background, just a part of the autumnal wonderfulness that envelopes Maine once the tourists have gone home and the days become colder and darker. There is nothing like a cold, crisp fall day, bright blue sky, brilliant red, yellow and orange leaves, the smell of woodsmoke and Sunday dinner, sitting on the couch with a Sam Adams, watching the Patriots. Football season makes the slide into winter a little easier.

But hey - I live in sunny Florida! I won't even have winter this year! As I write, it is 77 degrees out! Hmmm... I am not sure how this will affect my enjoyment of the season. Stay tuned.

Hurricane!

It's another beautiful day here in Central Florida, sunny, warm, and altogether perfec- wait! What's this? A hurricane the size of TEXAS? 20 inches of rain? 100 mph winds? Good god! Run away! Run away!

Well, folks, we actually didn't get an evacuation order, and are sitting tight. It's windy. The swimming pool is starting to overflow.

And as for my saturday night? I'm filling the bathtub with water and watching the Weather Channel - wooohooo!

Frances

ANOTHER hurricane? Are you freakin' kidding me?!!