Can You Believe It?

I am indifferent to midgets. I never thought there would be the day when I'd see a midget and not observe. No, they're not freakshows. And I hate that I am referring to midgets as "they" and "them" so maybe I am not so enlightened. But tonight, while leaving my train, I saw a woman who just happened to be a midget. And I looked at her like she was a normal person (weird!) and it wasn't until I processed how I actually didn't think anything of it that I realized that I have been conditioned by Manhattan to not take note of such things. I've most likely seen something to top it, or I have learned just to not care. Too much hustle and bustle. Not that not caring is necessarily a good thing, but I am saving this midget woman's feelings, aren't I? I didn't stare 0_0 and look at her as though she deserved to be stared at. I'm sure in the boonies she gets it enough. Rather, anywhere. And I was proud that I didn't care. But the fact that I am paying so much attention to it now makes me no better. So forget I said anything.

Buzzes like a fridge

so, I have had things run through my head. I am anxious. I run around so much from point A to point B, I keep thinking I will forget something as I leave the house and I will be devastated. Things like: my monthly pass, metro card, cell phone, a textbook, my clothes. Yes, my clothes. I keep thinking that I will forget to put clothes on and I won't realize it until I get to the office when everyone is staring at me and my flesh. And I'm not sure if the reaction will be positive. And then I'll have a panic attick when I look down and the only things covered are my feet. sigh.

Pink roses on black panties

Yup.

It has been way too long. I stumbled upon some old e-mails that I have sent people. Funny how things change. Funny what words mean. Especially when words are all two people have. Funny how my underwear is black with pink roses. I have lost twenty pounds since March of '09. Random. But funny. My unnecessary English class has me freewriting to improve my skills at life. Well, I really dislike this English class. It sets me back about four years. But it does make me feel smart because I surpass expectations. Anyway, I thought I would write something. Ya know what else is funny? Steve Guttenberg is a spokesmen for train safety. How desperate is his career that he tells me to watch the gap between the train and the platform. Well, Steve Guttenberg, has-been of the '80's, if you say so, I guess I will try not to slip my huge ass down that tiny slit. It made me giggle while waiting for the train today. Even though I was gagging on the poop air. I thought one of the stationary trains had something wrong with it, because there was an awful stench in the air. Eventually I realized the cesspools were being emptied out, and it was actual shit that I smelt...not something that smelt like it. I was gagging for twenty minutes. I had visions of lazy, fat crackheads "pinching their loaf" as Dr. Paul would say. Ew. Gross. But now it's kind of funny.

That's the way I like it

It seems centuries have passed since I last wrote a blog. Some days I forgot I had one, but mostly, I have had nothing cool to say. Why bother writing for the "world" to see if it isn't cool?

I have been thinking a lot lately. About work and friends and past friends and all of our futures. It's so funny to me that people in high school--who seemed sooo important at the time--I could give a fuck less about now. Now, of course, they are still fascinating to stalk on Facebook, and to see if they are in relationships, or alone, or fucking crazy, et cetera. But it is mostly to see who sizes up to my life. I wonder what people think when they check on my page...if anyone does, for that matter. Maybe I was never that cool or important in high school to check up on now, anyway.

Anywho, what do people see when they stalk my Facebook? Probably just another somebody that they graduated with. Just another somebody going to school and leading a boring and normal life. A girl that doesn't go out a lot, or laugh a lot anymore. A girl who looks much older than twenty. Perhaps it's an identical girl, just with shorter, red hair. Yeah, I used to think that my red hair made me special. It's like, Ooh, look how different and unique I am now with my locks of red. I am nothing like I was in high school because of my hair. Bull shit.

This blog means nothing. It is worthless and I am sorry it is a complete waste of your time. I will try harder to not suck so much. After all, you are innocent and perfect, and I'm just a selfish loser.

I am going to eat a bowl of cereal now.

Peace and love for another day.

Is there a towel song?

Has it really been almost two months since I have written in my blog? How insane! Same time last year I had a blog being posted almost everyday because I was home from college and I absolutely hated it and wanted nothing more than to cry and walk back to Hempstead where it is so much safer and nicer. And here I am now, amazed that I have had no time or energy to write in a blog. I'm sure Andrew has checked my page a here and there, hoping that I had something AMAZING to say. But I failed him. And he wept and sucked his thumb and boo hoo hoo. Suck it.

I'm in a towel. That would be because I just got out of the shower. And by just, I mean thirty minutes ago. I love my towel time. Ryan is sleeping next to me. The bastard probably isn't, he is probably awake reading everything I am writing. Nah, he's sleeping. He must be because we both sleep the same way, on our side/stomach, with our arms buried in our faces. His phone keeps going off...someone is calling him now. Hmm...



A good segway...

FRAN'S BIRTHDAY LIST:

1) Nike running shoes
2) A yellow desk
3) 26" flat panel TV with built in dvd player.
4) a puppy/ doggie :)
5) new, crazy awesome sunglasses
6) a vacation
7) health insurance
8) a phD in psychology
9) coach wallet
10) a big white house with a wrap-around porch, big windows and widows walk.
11) a shaker with my initials on it
12) a netbook
13) The Glyde
14) Fever Pitch on dvd
15) My Big Fat Greek Wedding on dvd
16) daisies
17) kisses
18) iTunes gift card
19) moola
20) cuddles.

You are the smell before rain

It finally happened. That inevitable "it" that occurs between two people in love who do not want to be separated for any period of time that is unnecessary. Last night Ryan and I discussed living together. Not in a 100% serious tone. But in a light-hearted what-if kinda way. Started with me saying how I'd want to get an apartment closer to school. Duh, I had been thinking about it, and so had he, but we both actually brought it up. I guess it's nice to know that feelings are reciprocated like that.

I think I'm going to ask for a raise next month.

I'm not sure what's going on with the weather. The first day of Spring it snows and it's like thirty degrees out now and it's almost April. Who was right when she said there would stop being a spring and a fall? This she, right here.

It is almost Jen's birthday. I cannot say that I am as excited as Jen because I know she is stoked, but I'm happy to go out and celebrate something, ya know? I feel like it's been too long since all of us have gone out and done something. Not since the comedy club, I guess. It will be nice to have a large group go out and have laughs and drinks and forget about the crumbling world. Our crumbling lives.

I have a headache :(

Umm...what else can I be random about? Oh yeah! Tonight on the train, I sat next to dog shit. At least I'm assuming it was shit from a dog. Dried shit, at least. But shit none the less. It took almost the ENTIRE train ride to figure out my foot was leaning against poop. When I finally did, I examined it just to make sure it was dung. And then I thought it was funny that I didn't notice. And then I laughed even more about it because I didn't move my seat. I was tired and only had two more stops. So sue me. And I texted Coral and told her all about it and she couldn't believe there was actual shit next to me. I guess it's not that hard to believe there was bone dry fecal matter on the LIRR. It's just one of those I-can't-believe-there-was-crap-next-to-me-and-I-didn't-notice-until-the-end kinda thing. It's like playing in a mud puddle for an hour only to realize the hard chunks you thought were rocks--and were consistently tossing around at your mud buddy's head--were actually hard cow droppings. Okay, maybe it's not the same...at all...but ya'll know what I mean.

I'm tired of school. I'm tired of the commute. Mostly because I'm spending $160/month on train tickets and $40 in metro cards just for two classes. I guess if I had a fuller plate, I wouldn't feel like I was wasting it so much. Whatevs. I hope my life turns out to be something. Sometimes I look at what happened to my mom and can't help but to think I'll end up just like her. She commuted to a CUNY school and stopped going to school to work full time and help support her mom. I'm considering doing another semester part time at Hunter just so I can keep working full time to pay for my car so my parents have less to worry about in the way of money. Thanks to the Bush administration, it's hard to keep your job these days, and it seems like my dad's is slowly disappearing from him. He works about two times a week, on average. And he obviously never got the full time position. He probably lost it to a younger guy who was guaranteed to stay for a long time. What's the point in guaranteeing an old man forty hours a week plus benefits, if it costs you money, only if he is going to leave in five to seven years? And what guarantee does this older man have of keeping up with the work when he's sixty? So, we are going to be uber poor again. Hey, my mom is lucky enough to get almost $40,000 a year, but that doesn't mean we can all live off that, ya dig? Anywho, I digress. My point is, I feel like if I work more, I can give my mom more money so we aren't so poor. But that means giving up my own education to do so. Not like I mind taking a while longer to finish school. What's the rush, right? Not like jobs are available anyway. School is the place to be right now. Just funny how history repeats itself. Maybe Ryan will be the new generation Jimmy and I will be the new generation Betty Sue. Whatevs...



The spies came out of the water...

...They're all spies.

The sailors say, Brandy is a fine girl

I have listened to "Brandy (you're a fine girl)" at least twenty-five times the past two-ish days. It's catchy. I never realized what a catchy song it is. Especially when I listened to the words, not just the chorus. Kind of sad, about lost love. But it's masked behind a tune that reminds me of a beach party with tikis and oranged leather skin holding strawberry daquiris and various iced beverages. And pink lipstick on bright 'n white teeth. See, I just played it again. On my way home from Ryan's house tonight, I tuned into the radio and the song came on. A bit static-y but that is to be expected from the North shore. Pukey North shore. Non-pukey boyfriend.

Odd. It's been almost seven months since he and I started dating. Where did the time go? August 13, 2008 was our first kiss (shut up, yeah, I remember) on Cedar Beach in the evening, when no one else was around but the sea creatures and the sand fleas. An awkward kiss (like most first ones are) because I wanted it, but I suck at making first moves, and he wanted it but I suppose he was too nervous to just go for it. So, we wound up tip toeing around it for an hour laying in the sand, full from our Italian food, me getting eaten alive from sand fleas and making conversation that would fill the still awkward silence because it is only the third date. And now, seven months later, all we do is kiss. The end.

He and I have been watching Nip/Tuck. Like most people, Ryan is hooked. I got him started on it, just like Andrew, Melany, and I hope Jen. It's a good show. Yes, it has gotten outlandish, but one can't help but to watch and keep watching. The beginning of the fifth season made me upset because I wanted it to be a good one. And further into the season, I just can't get enough. Nip/Tuck is one of those shows that I've followed from the very beginning and I won't stop until it is the end.

What else? It's been a while since I've written in this fangled thing. What have I been up to? I work thirty plus hours a week, I am at school for at least ten hours a week (including commute), I have a full-time boyfriend...yeah, this is all where my time goes. I work so I can afford things. But I'm not seeing too much of my money lately. I work a lot, but this month I owe my mom all of it. And what I don't owe her, I owe Verizon. So, this month is my slow time. I mean, I'll still owe half of my earnings each month to mother or corporation, but I will have the other half to spend. I have plans. I want a desk for my room. I need a new cell phone. I want a new TV. I want a Coach wallet. Yes. Reptar wants a Coach wallet...or is at least contemplating one. Not sure why...but I like a few of them that are out there. And I figure it will last me a very long time. The wallet I have now I spent $10 on and it lasted me six years. Sure, I don't have to spend $300 on a wallet...and chances are I won't own one anytime soon because I'd feel like a major fuck walking around with an expensive wallet when there are bigger issues in this world, far more important than expensive things. There is the old Reptar I know. That you know. Everyone can breathe again.

But work is good, I guess. It's work, right? I don't like working past 4pm, so my 9-5 today was slow. It gets slow around 3 and then it drags for the last two hours. Less people come in, and it's also around the time when the many high schoolers work. So, it's dramatastic. And some of the girls are really condescending and still preoccupied with useless high school matters. And I dislike osme of these girls, and I'm sure some of them dislike me. But I dislike them because they disliked me first. I start out liking everyone equally. But there are some people who want to be snooty just because you don't look pristine. Yeah. I'm guilty for not giving a shit what I look like at work. Duh, to an extent I care. I don't look dreadful, but when it comes to applying make up, I don't care so much. As far as I'm concerned, I get up way too early in the morning and run around way too much at work to wear make up. It will just clog my pores and make me look bad. I care about working, making my money, and looking good for my boyfriend, where I actually care if I'm half decent.

I had a few more points to bring up but I should really get some shut eye. I have to get up and do homework tomorrow. This was a jumble of paragraphs with no real flow. Let's cap: I like listening to cheesy songs with taste, I remember exactly what Ryan's mouth tasted like the night of our first kiss(es), work is for queers, I'm tired.

And there's a girl in this harbor town

And she works layin' whiskey down

They say "Brandy, fetch another round"

She serves them whiskey and wine

Let me ask you this: do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?

Shitty weather makes me inactive. I can't go to the park and walk briskly for three miles. I eat because I'm stuck indoors. The grey sky makes me lazy and sleepy. This shit will make me gain five pounds.

I started work at Panera. I guess I can't complain so far. Except that it's a lot to remember in a few days and it is mentally draining. Because of the weather I didn't have to work yesterday and today I had no school (even though classes weren't cancelled). So, I've just been sitting around eating cake and watching tv, taking a nap here and there.

ra ra ra.