Holy Stephen Cobert Cont'd

Stephen Colbert's White House Correspondents Dinner speech has been taken off youtube.com because of "copyright infringement." So, in case anyone cares, here's someother places can find it:

http://www.ifilm.com/ifilmdetail/2723919?htv=12 - video

http://dailykos.com/storyonly/2006/4/30/1441/59811 - Transcript

Enjoy.

Holy Stephen Colbert

I'm a cynic. And not just a today-is-going-to suck one, but a big, huge, the-world-is-shitty-and-is-never-going-to-get-better pessimist. That being said, this man and this speech just gave me so much hope. That he said what he said where he said it and walked away unscathed blows my fucking mind.

I'm sure Stephen Colbert will never see my blog, but I really just need to say...I am awestruck by your courage and integrity. You definately just become my hero. So, tip of the hat to your huevos grandes. I hope others follow your lead.

Go see Stephen Colbert's speech at the White House Correspondents' Dinner (RIGHT NOW!):
http://www.thankyoustephencolbert.org/

I'm The Scorpio, Gotta Love Me

excepts from an eerily correct astrological description...

Scorpios are the most intense, profound, powerful characters in the zodiac. Even when they appear self-controlled and calm there is a seething intensity of emotional energy under the placid exterior. They are like the volcano not far under the surface of a calm sea, it may burst into eruption at any moment.

In their everyday behavior they give the appearance of being withdrawn from the center of activity, yet those who know them will recognize the watchfulness that is part of their character. They need great self-discipline, because they are able to recognize the qualities in themselves that make them different from other humans, and to know their utterly conventional natures can be used for great good, or great evil [...] they make lifelong enemies by their outspokenness, for they find it difficult not to be overly critical of anything or anyone to whom they take a dislike.

Part of the negative side of the Scorpio nature is a tendency to discard friends once they cease to be useful.

They are fortunate in that their strong reasoning powers are tempered with imagination and intuition, and these gifts, together with critical perception and analytical capacity, can enable the Scorpions to penetrate to profundities beyond the average. They have a better chance of becoming geniuses than the natives of any other sign.

Rebelliousness against all conventions, political extremism to the point where hatred of the Establishment makes them utterly unscrupulous terrorists, brooding resentment, aggressive and sadistic brutality, total arrogance, morbid jealousy, extreme volatility of temperament, these are some of their vices. At the other extreme is the procrastinator, the man or woman who is capable of so much that they do nothing and become indolent and self-indulgent, requiring extravagant praise and flattery from those whom they make their cronies.

Scorpio is the symbol of sex and Scorpios are passionate lovers, the most sensually energetic of all the signs [...] They are thus capable of the greatest heights of passionate transport, but debauchery and perversion are always dangers, and Scorpios can become sadistic monsters of sensuality and eroticism. Their feelings are so intense that even when their love is of the highest, and most idealistic kind, they are nevertheless frequently protagonists in tragic, even violent romances, "star-crossed lovers."

go check out http://www.astrology-online.com/ if you want to see yours.

(yes, finals still suck, but you saw the description, I'm a procrastinator...)

the finals made me do it

This week: 2 projects, 1 paper

Next week: 3 papers

The week after that: 4 final exams, 1 paper

And that's in addition to my normal workload, which usually keeps me up all night. So, the next time you hear from me, I'll probably be homicidal. Please forgive.

Mass Appeal

I have a project for my mass media class due Thursday. There is a book I need to read before I can begin to work on it. Someone has had this book out from my school's library for like two months. Cough, asshole. Anyway, since time is winding down, I figured I should just go buy it. Thus, I ended up in Downtown Crossings on a Friday afternoon, which is always a bad idea. Crowds and I don't get along.

So, I was walking and I spot this group of shifty looking guys on the corner. They had to be like 15 years old. Which meant trouble for me, because those are exactly the kind of guys that always try to "holla" at me. I went out of my way to put people between me and them. Didn't work. One of the guys (let's call him guy #1) literally slides around a bunch of people and starts walking next to me. The conversation went something like this:

guy #1: hey, can I talk to you for a minute?
me: silence
guy #1: what's your name?
me: rolled my eyes and sighed heavily
guy #1: you can't talk?
me: No
guy #1: why not?
me: Busy

At about this point another one of the guys pulled up on my other side.

guy #2: esperate un momento, mami
me: silence
guy #2: you speak spanish?
me: No
guy #2: Oh, what are you then?
me: silence

Then another guy walked up. Maybe I should mention that guy #1 was black, guy #2 was latino, and guy #3 was white, because I found this multiracial, united, attack front somewhat entertaining. I should also note that I never stopped walking, so they were following me for a like a block and a half. Anyway, the conversation proceeded.

guy #3: word? she got a batman shirt on?
guy#1: yea, yo. she's gansta.
guy #2: nah, she's gonna fly away.

I don't really understand why the shirt was funny, but they thought so. By this point, we were in front of Barnes & Noble, so I opened the door and went inside. The boys lingered in front of the entrance.

guy #1: why you gonna go in there? cus you know we don't read? that's fucked up.

And sure enough, they would not come in the store. It was like in the movies when people run inside of a church to escape the bad guy. They really just couldn't cross the threshold. So I found myself in this weird position where I was like...Yes! They can't read. While simultaneously thinking it was a damn shame that they were ok openly admitting that to a stranger.

To those boys and everyone else who doesn't know: It is not cool to be stupid. In fact, it's just a facet of that crab-in-a-barell mentality that 'minorities' use to oppress one another. How can we ever hope to stand on equal ground with the people in power if we keep ourselves on a lower plane of knowledge? Think about it. Just think in general.

Dollars and Mulattoes

So, I had a funny conversation/argument the other day. It went something like this...

Guy: I don't know if I want to buy tea. But I don't want to pay $1 for it, because I only want the tea bag, not the cup and the water. I want to make it myself.
Me: What's the difference if you make it or they make it for you?
Guy: I just don't know if I want to spend the dollar.
Me: ...ok. Well, I don't they're going to give it to you for free and if you can spare the dollar, what's the big deal?
Guy: A dollar is a lot of money. There are some people who make less than that in a day of hard work.
Me: Yes, but you aren't one of them.
Guy: So, you're saying that I should just forget about everyone else and just think about myself?
Me: No, I just don't see what difference it makes whether you keep the dollar or spend it. Either way you aren't giving it to the people that need it.
Guy: So I just shouldn't think about them at all? It doesn't matter if I waste money even though there are some people who would kill for a dollar? I can just throw away food while people are starving?
Me: I'm not advocating that you be wasteful. I'm just saying, if you aren't going to actually help these people that you seen so concerned about, then stop complaining. Whether you spend $1 on a teabag or save it for something else, you are benefiting yourself. Either you will get tea now that makes your throat feel better or you'll have more money to spend on something else you want later. How does either of those options affect the starving people you mentioned?
Guy: So nothing I do matters? I should just be selfish and just not care about anyone else? That's what you're saying?
Me: ......

Now...either I'm not as clear a speaker as I think I am or this guy was totally beyond the reach of logic. I mean, it'd be cool if he disagreed with me, but he didn't even understand what I was saying. How do you talk to someone like that?


In other news, I was in downtown Boston the other day and a guy called me a mulatto. I was coming back from seeing a movie: Thank You For Smoking. It's greatness can, in my opinion, be summed up in this line: "If you argue correctly, you're never wrong." But anyway, I was walking back to the T with my bf and this middle aged Black man walks up to us. He goes into this spiel about running some organization that does diversity education and needing some donations. And he randomly stops and asks what my ethnicity is. I guess that's not completely irrelevant given what he's talking about. However, it's not exactly tactful, especially for someone who does race education. So, I tell him I'm black and white and he says something to the effect of "Oh. That's ok. It's ok to be multatto."

1. Mulato literally means "little mule"
2. Mulatto in the context of the US brings to mind Jim Crow and the "One-Drop" Rule

Do you go around calling anyone "little mule" or "octoroon"? Don't think so. Plus, what hell does that mean "its ok to be mulatto"? He made it sound as if being biracial is something he expected me to feel ashmed of and something a person needs comfort and support to get through. It's not a disease. It's not a tragedy. I'm not scarred for life. Thanks though, asshole.

Um, despite the fact that I've been ranting...
Peace, love, and blessings

So, it's been a long time. Yous guys got a problem with that?

If you do, oh well. This blog is all about me anyway. Who cares about you? Me, me, me, me, me, me, me!

Speaking of which...I've been feeling kinda crappy lately, so I'm going to vent here. Deal. Or don't. Just don't expect me to care either way. So...

I have this guy friend. And I have this very blushing, school-girlish, going-no-where (mainly because I have a bf who I love and wouldn't dream of leaving) crush on him. He's wonderfully intelligent, cynical, and awkward and he's great. I am not alone in feeling this. Pretty much everyone ever is crazy about him, but for some reason he didn't take the attention seriously and never actually tried to pursue any of the vast options he had. However, in the last couple of weeks, I think he's realized that he is a senior, he has nothing to lose, and that he really is as attractive as everyone is always saying he is. Long story short, he's lost the timidity and now he's juggling like 5 or so women.

Great for him. And I'm really serious about that. I'm happy for him. He's a great guy and he deserves some play. When I get into the emotions this change has brought up in me, don't mistake it for mere cattish jealously, because it's not. Shoot, I never had any intention of getting with him, so it's not that I'm mad that I don't have the opportunity now. I am jealous, but not of the girls spending time with him. It's more than that. I'm jealous of him, of that freedom he's found, of all the options he has.

Another warning: I am not jealous of his being single and being able to date as many people as he wants, although at first that's what I thought it was. I thought maybe I was bored with my relationship. I thought maybe I just get tired of the same person after about 2 years (if one is to judge by my relationship history). I thought maybe I might be one of those people who need periodic change, who can never be happy with one person, who'll always think 'what if.'

But then I realized it's not that. I know myself. 2 weeks tops and I'd be so depressed by the emptiness of jumping from person to person without having any deep, substancial relationship with any of them and I'd be ready to tear out my hair. The fact of the matter is that kind of single lifestyle has never appealed to me. Despite my best efforts to the contrary, I am, at the core, a solitary, melancholy, introverted, antisocial, person. All of my social interactions are superficial and devoid of any meaning, as far as I'm concerned. It's all bullshit. It's all play (in the theatrical sense). And I'm a bad actor at that. I don't want a single trivial relationship more than is necessary. Thus, 5 guys hanging around to do nothing more than flatter and fuck me = not appealing.

So, I am not jealous of the single lifestyle. I like my relationship. It's closer to perfection than I would ever be bold enough to ask for or think I deserve. I'm comfortable with it and happy in it. And it keeps me sane to know there is at least one person out there who knows me well enough that, if I died this second, could pass on a close to accurate representation of me to others so that I wouldn't just dissappear from the record of human history. But I digress.

Point is, I don't want to be single. I want to be free. And granted, my guy friend isn't free now, but he's more free than he was a week ago, so his situation got me to thinking: I really am banging my head against the bars of my invisible prison right now and it hurts. I am so fucking stuck where and I right now and I always will be. Don't mistake me - by where I am, I don't mean school, or MA, or in a relationship; I mean organized society as a whole. Everything is so laid out and preplanned. Everything is so limited. I can do this, I can't do that. Any deviation from the blueprint has serious consequences, which usually entail you being screwed for the rest of your life in some way or another.

And I'm just sick of it. I'm sick of having to go to class, of having to do homework, of having to get a job I'll hate just to live comfortably. When the fuck do I get to live at all? I don't want to pencil my bf in around my schedule. I don't want to have to fit my sexuality in when there's time and supress it when there's not. I don't want to relegate my passions in life to the realm of 'free time' which never materializes.

Routine is a fucking killer. I'm never finished with the things I have to do. I just takes breaks, because sometimes I'm too exhuasted to go on. Or sometimes I feel like if I spend one more second doing some bullshit that I could care less about while the years roll by, I will fukcing lose my mind. Like seriously. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to bang my head against the cement walls of my room. I want to hit things. I want to hit myself. I want to sleep even though I can never make up for all the hours I've lost or be well rested ever again.

Call it laziness if you like. But I feel oppressed.

People are supposed to work their whole lives, so that they can be free in old age. Both my mother and my grandmother died at age 47. What happens if I work and work and work and never get to live? What kind of life is that?

What's the point of life? Ever since I've been able to comprehend the question, my answer has always been: TO LIVE. There's nothing before life that I can remember and as far as any of us know, there's nothing after. We make a metaphysical debate out of what is a natural process. Sperm, egg, life, death, decay. We come and we go and the world remains. Even the greatest men and women, the ones that have changed the world, only have minimal significance in the present moment. We might document their existence or their actions or their image or their words. But we don't really remember them, because we don't really know them. Is that worth working your whole life for: to be a sentence in a history book. Isn't it more important to be happy while you're alive than to be vaguely recalled when you're dead?

But what can you really do? What can I really do? I see no way out...

Things I Hate Right Now

1. FINALS - One week, 5 papers, and 2 exams. School is such a bitch. If finals were living beings, I would kill them so slowly and painfully that even Rasputin would feel compelled to tip his hat to them.

2. PEOPLE TELLING ME THAT I LOOK TIRED - Thank you, but I already know. Every day of my life at least 10 people tell me. And no, it's not because I didn't sleep well last night. It's just the way I look. I have permanent bags under my eyes and they aren't going away. So, there is no need to remind everytime you see me, ok?

3. WHEN PEOPLE TRY TO STAY IN THE CAMPUS CENTER AFTER 1AM - Look, I know you have homework and exams and tests. So do I. Which is exactly why I like to close the building on time and get home. You can't just stay in the building. I will kick you out. I have homework too. I need sleep sometimes. But does anyone ever think of that? No.

4. PEOPLE HAVING DRAMATIC CONVERSATIONS IN THE HALLWAYS - I realize that our dorm has terrible reception, but when I come home at night, I do not want to see you bawling on the staircase. If you are having a personal conversation, go somewhere private. No more arguments, breakups, or phone sex in the hallways!


That's all for now. If I think of anything else, I'll let you know.

Salman Rushdie has been to ... Tuftsie!

You have no idea how awsome it is to se an author you admire in the flesh. You fall in love with their words, with their images, their ideas. You construct their identities in you head. You know how they think, what they sound like, what they like to wear. Script on a page always gives the illusion of authority and truth and unbias. So, in a way, you idolize them. Then you see them. And the preconception is shattered 9 times out of 10. They are small, soft spoken, balding: just an ordinary person. But I don't find this discouraging. On the contrary, they are ordinary people, just like me.

So, as you've probably gathered, Salman Rushdie spoke tonight at Tufts. He's an amazing, sarcastically witty, socially conscious, little man and I loved him, albeit from afar. Below is my a list of tonight's highlights.


Paraphrases of Salman Rushdie's memorable quotes (tee hee):

It's great that you all would come listen to a writer speak. No writer should ever be allowed to do that, by the way.

About the fatwa issued by Ayatollah Khomeini, it's important to note that ... one of us is dead. What's that saying? The pen is mightier than the sword? The lesson is, don't mess with a writer.

I think the reason there is so much tension between politicians and writers is because they are fighting for the same power: the power to describe the world to people.

People accuse me of writing fantasy or magical realism. But in truth, I tone down reality in my novels. Reality is actually much stranger than anything that can be made up. In what we consider to be ordinary life, there are these strange growths that cannot be figured out. What shall I call them? Bushes?

Girl: Earlier you read a passage suggesting that truth and integrity often come in conflict with one another and that in such situations integrity is given precident, do you think our present government values integrity over truth?
Rushdie: Well, I was being satirical. That is what us writers call a joke. Of course, I don't really think that integrity should be valued over truth.

As a fiction writer people often assume that what one is writing is an autobiography in disguise. All of my main characters, I think, have been very different from one another and yet people always assume that they are me. Which means, I must have led a very interesting life.


He also talked about more relevant things, such as his facination with boundaries and the ways in which they simultaneously include some people and exculde others, the ways in which power works, the importance of free speech, where the line should be drawn for censorship, religion, gender, etc. You'll have to excuse me, I am so in aspiring writer's heaven right now.

Catch-up

August 22nd: I packed up my things and moved out of the place I had been subletting all summer. I had to leave my stuff there for a few days thouigh, because I wasn't allowed to move into my dorm until the 26th and Reslife wouldn't let me drop off my belongings until the 24th.

August 24th: Having been told by Reslife that all I needed to do in order to move in was pick up the keys to my dorm between 9am and 5pm in the facilities building and then put my things in my room, my boyfriend's housemate dropped my bf and I off at Tufts around 4pm. However, upon arriving at the facilities building, I found out that I would be expected to return the keys before 5pm. Knowing this was highly unlikely, I accepted the keys. My bf and I then walked the 5 or 6 blocks to the nearest UHaul and rented a van. Then we drove to the place I had been subletting during the summer and brought my things down from the second floor and put them in the van. This was harder than it sounds, because the stairwells in the house are steeper than necessary. Before we leave, the girls returning to house for the school year remind me that I owe utilities for the entire summer, not because I neglected to pay them, but because this is the first time they've informed me of how much and whom to pay. After this lovely bit of news, my bf and I manuever the huge UHaul van down the steep hill on which the house is located and slowly (trying not to send any of my belongings crashing into each other) drive the short distance to my new dorm. When we arrive, it's at least 4:30pm. By the time we finish bringing everything I own up three flights of stairs to my room, it's nearly six. I figure since I'll be returning to campus on the 26th, it'll be fine if I just hold onto my keys for two days. We return the UHaul, grab something to eat at Dunkin Donuts, and await a ride back to Revere where I've been spending the time between "sublet move out" and "dorm move in" with my boyfriend in his new apartment.

August 26th: My bf and his housemate drive me back to Tufts. The first thing I do is go to facilities to retrieve my ID (because they held my it in exchange for my dorm keys on the 24th). I tell the girl what happened, she looks annoyed. She doesn't give me my ID, but instead takes down my number and says she'll have her supervisor call me when she returns to the office. This is irritating because I'd wanted to wash clothes, but I needed my ID to do that. So, after this small defeat, my merry band of three heads over to my dorm. However, my keys aren't working. None of the four doors will open. After about 15 minutes of waiting for someone to come out of the building so we could sneak in, I call TUPD. They tell me they'll send someone over in a few minutes to let me in. After about 15 more minutes, some other people try getting into the building and also fail, disproving my theory that the facilities people disabled by keys out of spite. These peoplel also call TUPD and immediately the doors open. I'm thinking "motherbitches." Why couldn't they just do that the first time I called. Of course by this time, both my bf and his housemate are thoroughly annoyed and I feel bad. Still, before leaving, my bf helps me arrange the furniture in my room. He's great. Then they peace out and I start setting up my room.

August 27th - 30th: OSA training: icebreakers, teambuilders, a few serious discussions, amazing chocolate cake, campfire & smores, very clear sky with a beautiful view of the stars, playstation KAREOKE (yes, we were sober and yes, it was amazing), softball, training the newsies, take-out food, good laughs.

September 3rd & 4th: Went with my best friend to one of his family friend's summer spots on Lake Winepesaki (NH). Ate mussels, played bocci, had a candle light dinner with a bunch of old(er) people, swam in the lake, motorboated across the lake, had some delicious ice cream, saw The Brother's Grimm, minigolfed (right next to a fireworks show which kept showering us with debris), played arcade games.

Aside from that...working, classes, homework, spending time with my bf. Now you are caught-up. Feel good about yourself.

Kissed The Girls And Made Them Cry

Yesterday:

I watched High Fidelity (you know... romantic comedy, John Cusack?). Well, I really liked the movie. I mean, it isn't Oscar winning material, but it's a realistic look at relationships and love. The main couple break up and later get back together (of course) not because they realize that they are madly in love, can't live without each other, and could never imagine being with another person, but simply because they have something good. Its not spectacular, its not amazing, but just...good. Stable, dependable, realiable, REAL. Without a doubt, there will be times when one or the other or both will desire something else or lust for someone else. Shit, you don't always like the people you love. But in the end, you do always love them and they always love you. You could cheat everytime you had the urge, but you'd always come home to that one person. After awhile of that kind of running around, you'd realize that there is very little point in the affairs and they'd stop. That's kinda how I feel love is. You never find the perfect person, but now and again you meet a person who just feels like home. They don't give you high highs or low lows. You just live, like you've always lived except now its so much easier and happier, because you've got a companion to share everything with.

* * * *

I saw Eric Benét perform at Club Paradise in Downtown Boston. Now, I have never been one of those women that thought Eric Benét was fine. In fact, I always thought he was a bit overrated. But, I was wrong. He was a amazing. He is very handsome, a sharp dresser, cool and funny, and he can "sang." I can understand why he gets himself into so much trouble with the ladies. He's got that whole "grown and sexy" thing going on. Which reminds me, he was definately flirting with one of his backup singers all night. In my opinion, either he is hitting that or he's trying to hit that. Hey, I don't blame him. Homegirl can sing; she did Tamia's part on "Spend my life with you" and was hitting all the notes. Anyone that can hang with Tamia is nice. And she was fine too. If I were a guy, I'd probably try to hit that, lol. Anyway, the concert was amazing. Although, my boyfriend and I were probably the youngest people at the club. That always happens to us. We may look young, but according to our interests, we're actally middle-aged. The band (The Movement) that opened for Eric Benét (they were amazing also) covered some oldies but goodies and everyone was looking at my bf and me like we were crazy because we knew the words when clearly the music was before our time. Which reminds me; Eric Benét's cover of "I wanna be your lover" by Prince was GREAT. If you don't know that song, go download it right this instant. Now. NOW. NOWER!

Better Than Sex?

So, you know how there's this myth about women thinking chocolate is better than sex? Well, I've never been one of those women. I don't even like it that much. I have to eat it in small doses, otherwise it starts to taste disgusting. Today, however, out of curiousity and to meet the minimum spending requirement for delivery orders, I ordered a nutella chocolate and strawberry crepe from Pasta Pisa. When I got it, I meant to just eat a bite to see what it tasted like and then save the rest for a desert after I finished my pasta. But it was sooooo good I ate the whole thing and never even touched the pasta! I wouldn't necessarily say that it was better than sex, but it was damn close. The best way to describe it is this...if the crepe had been a guy, I would have hit that. Lol.

Summer Rain

I woke up this morning and said to myself "I am going to go to Davis Square today," partially because I was in need of some things that the Brooks there could provide me with and partially just because I wanted to get out of my room for awhile. But of course, things did not go as I planned. I looked outside and I thought, it's hot out there. I checked weather.com, which confirmed that it was indeed a fairly warm day. Did I really want to walk all the way to Davis and back just for a few items? After giving the matter deep consideration, I decided to go to the convenience store down the hill from my place instead.

I managed to pick up a case of cokes and something frozen to eat for lunch, but not the things I really needed. It seemed that I would have to walk to Davis after all. But wait! I realized that I own a bike. Not only would this make the trip shorter, but it would also provide me with a constant breeze to protect me from the heat. But did I really want to carry my bike all the way down a flight of stairs, ride all the way to Davis with my shoddy breaks, search for an unknown amount of time for a place to lock up my bike once there, struggle up the steep hill on which my house is located on the way back, and then carry my bike back up the stairs? No, in reality, I did not. So, instead I wasted away the day watching TV, as usual.

However, around 8pm, after smallville went off, I became extremely bored, mostly because I knew nothing else good would be on TV till 11pm (ADULT SWIM - you better know about it and love it). So, since it was getting dark and cooling off and I was freaking starving, I decided to take that trip to Davis after all. I had my route all planned out. I'd go to Brooks first, grab what I needed, then head over to Anna's Taquería (best burritos ever), order a chicken burrito to go, bring it all home, and enjoy it with a nice cold coke. I dressed myself in bike riding friendly attire, I carried my bike down the stairs, bared down really hard on my breaks going down the steep hill I live on and prayed not to flip over the handle bars or go shooting off into the street at the bottom, then began riding at a leisurely pace down college ave. I got about a half a block away from the rotary (about 3 blocks) when without any warning at all, it begings pouring.

Really though, there were no scattered drops or light showers. Just, all of the sudden, sheets of water were falling on me. So, I turn around and start heading home thinking that I obviously was not meant to go to Davis Square today. Now, I was afraid to pedal too fast, because my bike has really bad brakes and there was water everywhere. On top of that, there was water running into my eyes like crazy. I kept trying to blink it away, but that just left room for more to fill the space. So, I couldn't stop and I could barely see. All I could think was, please let me make it home before the lightening starts.

After awhile though, I had to admit that the rain felt really damn nice. It's great to just get drenched with cold water when you're really hot. I was glad I had a logical excuse for being out in the downpour. I also began hoping that my boyfriend would have gotten home in the time that I was gone (even though only about 20 minutes had elapsed), because I figured he would really appreciate a drenched me. Well, I made it home in one piece and he did happen to be there and he did, of course, enjoy the soggy mess that came walking through the door.

Another Week In Carla

Meh. I've been doing stuff, but not much. (No dates because it's summer and the days all blend into each other)

My boyfriend and I walked to Target to get me a cheaper, yet better, bike to replace the one that was stolen. Despite the fact that mapquest told us the journey would be short, it turned out to be a really really long walk. Dah well, now I have a bike with a kickstand.

I've gone out a few times (meals, movies, etc.) with my boyfriend and one of his female friends. She's pretty, intelligent, and an english major, so it's been good times. For some reason, I always enjoy having a third person along when my boyfriend and I go out. We aren't a PDA kind of couple, so the other person doesn't feel awkward or left out plus it gives my boyfriend and I a reason to talk. That sounds bad, but it's really not. I love my bf and I love his company, but we've gotten to know each other so well that there is almost no reason to speak anymore. We're practically one person. Like he says, it's like each person is an extention of the other. So, I don't get jealous, I just enjoy. Besides, I think I just might like it a little bit if he had the hots for another woman. Could be fun (wink, wink).

We've also spent some time with my bf's business partner and his girl lately. Cool peoples. The dude is great cus he one of those people who tell wonderfully long, rambling stories that have absolutely no point, but are hilarious so it doesn't matter. Also, he's seems randomly conservative on certain issues which is always interesting. My bf thinks he's just a hater though. This very well may be true. The matter requires further investigation.

Um...yeah. That's about all. Until next time, this is Carla signing off from CDTV. Good night and God bless.

Keeping in Contact

I dreaded it. I put it off. And the result: call after call and message after message until the urgency leaked over to my boyfriend's phone also. So, finally I bit the bullet and did it. I called home. It doesn't seem like such a big deal, but it is. Look padres (and anyone else that feels neglected), I'm just one of those independent individuals that doesn't feel the need to constantly check in with other people. Unless you hear otherwise, you can assume that I'm fine. It's not that I don't like you or don't care about you, I just don't like obligations or phone conversations or going through those pleasantries that society has deemed "polite" but that nobody really cares about. Thus, calling home (or anywhere else) solely to let someone know how things are going requires me to be somewhat fake. And I hate that. And it shows. And then I feel bad cus that only strengthens peoples' belief that I don't like them. You know what would solve everything? Just send me an email. Or get on AIM or something. I like writing. Therefore, writing to me greatly increases your changes of getting a response. Shazam!


In other news: Mario golf is the jam and "mother bitches" is my new favorite phrase.

The Infamous Summer BBQ

As antisocial as I am, sometimes it is nice to surround yourself with a grill, a radio, and a bunch of buzzed folks, have some good laughs, hang until the cops come, and then chill indoors until whoever is driving decides they've had enough socializing for one night. Yep, I have to admit it, I had a good time. But don't expect me to do it again anytime soon. I've now fulfilled my quarterly quota.

(Shot out to the two person tank top gang that may have very well saved us all from a run in with the police last night. Lol.)

Words of the Day

(For no good reason and in no particular order)

1. Priapic
2. Goy
3. Epicanthal
4. Shechinah
5. Microdot
6. Yesod
7. Sellotape
8. Netsah
9. Theosophy
10. Schloompy

This Week In Carla:

(Inspired by the Daily Show's "This Week In God")


Sunday, July 3rd - I went to a beach in Gloucester, MA with a friend. I discovered that despite the fact that it had never happened in my life before, my skin can get sunburned. I didn't turn red, but my shoulders hurt whenever anything (including cotton) touched them. That evening I headed to the Adirondacks to spend the holiday with a friend and his parents. On the drive, my boyfriend and I broke up (for the first time in our nearly 2 year relationship) over the phone. My annoyance at this was heightened by the fact that the conversation was dragged out, because I barely had any service in the mountains. Ironically, once we actually arrived at the campsite, away from highways and telephone poles and surrounded by lakes and very tall trees, I attained two bars. The stars were really beautiful out there. You could even see the white dust/cloud (cosmic debris?) which the Milky Way was named for.

Monday, July 4th - Woke up. Called my boyfriend (well, ex-boyfriend) and asked if he was sure about the breakup thing. He said no. So, we agreed to talk about it more when I got back. Showered. Ate (Ham and French Toast). Moved everything to a different campsite. Drove to Lake Placid (the town). Ate at a place called Nicola's. The food wasn't very good. My friend attempted to order an alcoholic drink, but didn't have his fake I.D. (which says he 23 and from NJ) with him, so he got shut down. We went to a small beach by a lake. Everyone fell asleep on me, so I people watched. There were mostly people with small children there. There was this one couple of a white woman and a man that looked middle-eastern, their children were beautiful. There was also a black-white interracial couple, they had two beautiful girls also. Eventually, my friend and I went walking around downtown, windowshopping. At seven, we all went to see War of the Worlds (which I had already seen and which had been much more entertaining to watch in Boston, mostly because of the audience). After the movie, we sat on a hill and watched the fireworks. They were kind of crappy. Too many pauses and too quickly set off. The whole thing was like a mini-finale. The actual finale was not too great either. They set the fireworks off so quickly that all I saw were bright spots of light. Maybe they were good though and I was just in a bad mood, because I didn't have my boyfriend there to watch with me.

Tuesday, July 5th - Woke up. Spoke again briefly to my ex. He informed me that my bike was gone, yet the lock was still completely intact. I decided that someone vaporized it and moved on without stressing about it. Showered. Ate (ham, pancakes, and fruit). Went Kanoeing for the first time in my life. It was a little scary. The boat rocked a lot and I kept thinking that we were going to tip over. I had a life vest though and I can swim a little, so I wasn't too afraid. We stopped at a small island on the lake. We sat on some rocks and shot the breeze for about an hour while my friend and his parents had a few beers. It was good times. We headed back to our campsite when it began thundering. Shortly after we got back, the rain started. We went back to Lake Placid and did some shopping. My friend's parents insisted on buying me something, so I now have a Lake Placid/Adirondacks sweatshirt. Later that day, we went to "Tail O' the Pup," one of those restaurants that is probably best known for its huge portions of ribs. We sat outside at a picnic table under a large tent. Soon after we arrived, it started pouring. Seriously, I've never seen such a heavy downpour in all my life. The waitresses were drenched and they ended up having to put down a plank leading from the restaurant to outside, because a small river had formed in front of the entrance. My friend was very dissapointed, because he had wanted to go mini-golfing at Pirate's Cove after dinner. As it turned out, the rain stopped by the time we finished eating and we went and mini-golfed on a wet course. We didn't keep score, but I got most of my balls in on the second or third shot, so I'm proud of myself. There were also signs up around the course, which told a tale about blackbeard, so it was entertaining. After golf, we grabbed some ice cream, said our goodbies, and my friend and I headed out. We nearly died on the way back to his place in NY, because there was about an hour where it poured so hard that we couldnt see the road, which was flooded anyways. But, we made it.

The excitement pretty much ends there. The next day I took the Fung Wah back to Boston. My boyfriend and I decided to stay together for the time being (we are living together, we do love each other, we do love our relationship). What may happen in the future, I don't know, but I'll take that and run with it for now. Since Wednesday, I've just been doing what I always do: watching tv, reading, drawing, writing, surfing the web, and enjoying the fact that I have no obligations right now. So, yea... that's all folks. Stay tuned for a preview of next week's exciting edition of "This Week In Carla."

Something You SHOULD Do

Thoroughly check out these sites.

Campaign to make Poverty History

Live 8 Concert

G8 Summit

Just Don't Do It

Nike has a new commercial. It is a clip from the press conference where Lance Armstrong announced that he had testicular cancer which had also spread into his abdomen (and his lungs and his brain). After Armstrong firmly states that he intends to beat the disease, the "Just do it" logo pops up. Implying what? That surviving cancer is simply a matter of being determined to do so? That the million or so people who die annually of cancer in the U.S. just don't try hard enough? Bullshit. Sure, Lance Armstrong's cancer was advanced and his recovery was unlikely. But, in reality, because he is a wealthy athlete, everything that modern medicine had to offer was available to him. Everyone is not so lucky. I mean, I understand what the commercial was trying to do. A positive mindset never hurt anyone, but a life threatening disease cannot be conquered with the mind alone. Cancer is a fast spreading, amazingly resilient, deadly disease and some of us have had to watch people we love die slowly and painfully of it. And why? Because they didn't have the means to pay for treatments, surgeries, medicine, and trips around the world to meet with the top specialists. Bluntly, they couldn't afford life, Lance Armstrong could. Thanks for rubbing it in our (those who have watched, lost, and been left behind to grieve) faces. Ya Bahstahds.