this is crazy to me. while the morning hours creep by, a chow/lab mix breathes against my side, pressing me into the wall as we fight for inches on this twin bed. his toes twitch- my leg aches. some 90s drama talks to itself on my computer. I don't know if I leave it on for the sound or because of the rush I get from hacking my boyfriend's netflix account.
now many would choose to follow the dog, but I? I am pleasantly awake, thumbs jolting around like they're directing an orchestra. but at 2:30 on a Sunday morning, I am doing nothing but blogging on my phone.
I hated my blog because I never had time for it. I hated having to leave my thoughts, and not be able to resume them until I was in front of my computer. now, since I have a handheld computer- with a phone app- I can log on anywhere.
see, I loved my blog because I love writing. I love having people read my writing. I love that people want to write because they read my writing!
maybe you can't tell... but I've been a little bit:
TEXTUALLY.FRUSTRATED
Sunday, July 18, 2010
droid does...allow insomnia to persist
Published with Blogger-droid v1.4.7
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Metah, Wetah, Itah, Youtah !
SO its been a hot minute since I said hello to express my frustrations. Well, actually I'm not too frustrated out here in Utah. Of course there's a lot of things that aren't NY or VT aka I'm dying without Dunkin' Donuts iced coffees and breakfast sandwiches, but overall its been a trip.
I think there's a lot that's different, and if someone tells you otherwise, they're lying.
One of the obvious differences, is the mentality of Eastern vs. Western raised skiers. I'm not saying I'm better by ANY means. A prime example of this is that I double ejected in the middle of a run the other week and I have no idea why...
I think the East breeds them a little tougher. It's not that my Western loves are wussies, its just that I don't mind skiing in the fog. I don't mind skiing in the snow. I don't care how cold it is or if it's icy. I'll be there. I feel like there's so many times here where it will be cloudy and people say nahhh to skiing. It's pretty devastating to not be able to find people to go with on account of cloud coverage.
Everyone admits to being spoiled but I don't think you can understand exactly how lucky you are to live here if you haven't skied in some bad weather. The West has it pretty good.
That being said, I think growing up on the East made me a better skier. Maybe I die in powder but I can grip on hidden ice, cruise most areas, and generally, have learned to adapt to any situation. I am not pro, but I feel confident skiing. I have not had formal training but it just feels good.
My boots are old and stomped out, they wiggle and jiggle as I race around the hill. Skis chatter beneath me, varying in speed as sweet spots of wax hit the snow. It's not perfect but it's the best feeling in the world. This is my thing. I'm not good at everything, but this? This, I can do.
I like being able to have the chance to ski here where there's less elements to get in my way. Less time worrying about ice means more time going fast! Which is one of my favorite things in the world. Brinking of the edge of in and out of control is amazing. It's like walking on the edge of a cliff.
I dunno. I'm beat. Out for now!
I think there's a lot that's different, and if someone tells you otherwise, they're lying.
One of the obvious differences, is the mentality of Eastern vs. Western raised skiers. I'm not saying I'm better by ANY means. A prime example of this is that I double ejected in the middle of a run the other week and I have no idea why...
I think the East breeds them a little tougher. It's not that my Western loves are wussies, its just that I don't mind skiing in the fog. I don't mind skiing in the snow. I don't care how cold it is or if it's icy. I'll be there. I feel like there's so many times here where it will be cloudy and people say nahhh to skiing. It's pretty devastating to not be able to find people to go with on account of cloud coverage.
Everyone admits to being spoiled but I don't think you can understand exactly how lucky you are to live here if you haven't skied in some bad weather. The West has it pretty good.
That being said, I think growing up on the East made me a better skier. Maybe I die in powder but I can grip on hidden ice, cruise most areas, and generally, have learned to adapt to any situation. I am not pro, but I feel confident skiing. I have not had formal training but it just feels good.
My boots are old and stomped out, they wiggle and jiggle as I race around the hill. Skis chatter beneath me, varying in speed as sweet spots of wax hit the snow. It's not perfect but it's the best feeling in the world. This is my thing. I'm not good at everything, but this? This, I can do.
I like being able to have the chance to ski here where there's less elements to get in my way. Less time worrying about ice means more time going fast! Which is one of my favorite things in the world. Brinking of the edge of in and out of control is amazing. It's like walking on the edge of a cliff.
I dunno. I'm beat. Out for now!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Two Weeks Notice
The bus driver waved, and I started crying.
Jim is one of the best people you may ever come across. He smiles, he knows your name and he knows it's your neon coat hustling across campus to make the bus--- and waits.
Today was my last day at school in Vermont. There's a lot of technicalities, but the long and short of it, is that I'm a St. Mike's Alum. The week seemed to be going okay, sauntering by and being gone before I knew it, much like the sunlight on a brisk Burlington day in December. And then it was gone.
I woke up today at 7:27. Right before the alarm, good work Jen. Except I had set the clock for 7:45. Oh well. I stayed in bed, motionless and thinking about things. I was up by 8, eager and dreadfully nervous at the same time.
Everything seemed to go wrong, but I made it to my 9 o'clock final, 5 minutes early. Matty and I bantered a bit, did the damn thing and busted out. I went around campus to return books and leave a few notes to some VIPs, and was off to pack my final bags into the car.
There are some moments that should be kept to the people I had them with. They will always be cherished and they will always mean the world. Always.
But one moment was unexpected, unexplainable and still rattles me.
I was at the light that turns into campus, in the left lane. The bus always rides on the right, waiting for the light to turn so it could swing into campus for the lucky bastards who had a 1pm final. I was creeping up next to the bus, craning my neck up and out the passenger window when I saw the waving hand. It was Jim's. And there was his smiling, sunglassed face, with the same defined look of pure happiness that I won't ever forget.
And then it hit me.
I am sad to leave the place, but most importantly the people. The moments. The professors who passed me based on my efforts and not my tests. The awkwardly cute freshman boy who would always hold the door. The people who I met at orientation- who still said hello and knew my name. The people like Jim who made it all worth my while.
I will miss you.
It's an unexplainable feeling. I am being selfish, but I need to be. I want so badly to do this for myself, but there are so many good things that have brought me to this point. I loved and hated all the hugs. I loathed the words "I'm never going to see you again." I am not dead. I am not sick. I am making a change and it has consequences. It has new rules. It is a new game and I must play it accordingly- with 100% of myself.
So here's to the hugs. The handshakes. The tears that streamed down as I shut the door behind so many of you, slumping against the wall and maintaining the silence.
I carry your hearts with me, I carry them in my heart.
Jim is one of the best people you may ever come across. He smiles, he knows your name and he knows it's your neon coat hustling across campus to make the bus--- and waits.
Today was my last day at school in Vermont. There's a lot of technicalities, but the long and short of it, is that I'm a St. Mike's Alum. The week seemed to be going okay, sauntering by and being gone before I knew it, much like the sunlight on a brisk Burlington day in December. And then it was gone.
I woke up today at 7:27. Right before the alarm, good work Jen. Except I had set the clock for 7:45. Oh well. I stayed in bed, motionless and thinking about things. I was up by 8, eager and dreadfully nervous at the same time.
Everything seemed to go wrong, but I made it to my 9 o'clock final, 5 minutes early. Matty and I bantered a bit, did the damn thing and busted out. I went around campus to return books and leave a few notes to some VIPs, and was off to pack my final bags into the car.
There are some moments that should be kept to the people I had them with. They will always be cherished and they will always mean the world. Always.
But one moment was unexpected, unexplainable and still rattles me.
I was at the light that turns into campus, in the left lane. The bus always rides on the right, waiting for the light to turn so it could swing into campus for the lucky bastards who had a 1pm final. I was creeping up next to the bus, craning my neck up and out the passenger window when I saw the waving hand. It was Jim's. And there was his smiling, sunglassed face, with the same defined look of pure happiness that I won't ever forget.
And then it hit me.
I am sad to leave the place, but most importantly the people. The moments. The professors who passed me based on my efforts and not my tests. The awkwardly cute freshman boy who would always hold the door. The people who I met at orientation- who still said hello and knew my name. The people like Jim who made it all worth my while.
I will miss you.
It's an unexplainable feeling. I am being selfish, but I need to be. I want so badly to do this for myself, but there are so many good things that have brought me to this point. I loved and hated all the hugs. I loathed the words "I'm never going to see you again." I am not dead. I am not sick. I am making a change and it has consequences. It has new rules. It is a new game and I must play it accordingly- with 100% of myself.
So here's to the hugs. The handshakes. The tears that streamed down as I shut the door behind so many of you, slumping against the wall and maintaining the silence.
I carry your hearts with me, I carry them in my heart.
Monday, December 7, 2009
6.5 Billion
11. I got ELEVEN days left in Vermont, and it's just hitting me. There's so much to do, so much to avoid, and so much to pack! So much to absorb. Whether it's moments or drinks with friends, here's to surviving.
I still have pretty mixed emotions about the event. There are people here that mean the world to me, people who make me laugh on a daily basis, people who pick me up when I fall off of chairs, hide my lul-moments at the Halloween dance, people who push me into randos at parties I don't want to be at. There's people who physically eat my homework, and people who stick Steven's Pass stickers all over my shit. People I go on plutonic dates with, people I survive early morning classes with. These are my people.
And I'm leaving them.
Sure there are new people to call my friends, and people I have yet to meet, a whole nother 6.5Billion or something if we want to get specific. And I won't know anything about them until I get out and try to meet them.
Regardless, the people on the EC are unlike any other. We're tough, we have to be. We have to have faith in the uncertain.The snow forecast. The Red Sox. The morning commute. We never know when the good will come, but we hold true to the moment when it will.
I never thought of myself as the type who would leave the East. I thought it'd be my place. Ski in the winter, beach in the summer. Sure the West has those things too-- it's just different.
There isn't even a Dunkin' Donuts in Utah.
Call me crazy. I think I might be.
ain't too frustrated.
I still have pretty mixed emotions about the event. There are people here that mean the world to me, people who make me laugh on a daily basis, people who pick me up when I fall off of chairs, hide my lul-moments at the Halloween dance, people who push me into randos at parties I don't want to be at. There's people who physically eat my homework, and people who stick Steven's Pass stickers all over my shit. People I go on plutonic dates with, people I survive early morning classes with. These are my people.
And I'm leaving them.
Sure there are new people to call my friends, and people I have yet to meet, a whole nother 6.5Billion or something if we want to get specific. And I won't know anything about them until I get out and try to meet them.
Regardless, the people on the EC are unlike any other. We're tough, we have to be. We have to have faith in the uncertain.The snow forecast. The Red Sox. The morning commute. We never know when the good will come, but we hold true to the moment when it will.
I never thought of myself as the type who would leave the East. I thought it'd be my place. Ski in the winter, beach in the summer. Sure the West has those things too-- it's just different.
There isn't even a Dunkin' Donuts in Utah.
Call me crazy. I think I might be.
ain't too frustrated.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Secret's Out
So as people have been slowly hearing, the rumors are true. This pure-bred east coast girl will be picking up and moving to the 801, also known as Salt Lake City, Utah, starting classes there January 5th. While I've got a little more than a month before I depart, there's still tons to do.
It was a tough choice to make, and is currently still catching people by surprise. It seems like most ECers are either born jonesin' to run, or get their feet stuck in Maine's sand, Vermont's snow or Syracuse's mud. I guess I just seemed like the type who'd stay stuck.
This year I turned twenty and I knew I needed something different. I wasn't sure exactly what it was, but after a trip to Utah with the lovely Adria , I knew that I might be able to get stuck there for a little bit.
I'm scared as hell but stoked as well, as there is so much to explore between here and Syracuse. Just like Moving Mixtapes says, maybe it's time to get up, get out, get SOMETHING. And I'm ready.
I feel extremely bad that I didn't tell people as I made this choice, but it was just something I had to do. When your feet are teetering on the edge, you can't blink before you jump. The scary part isn't the jumping-- it's getting caught.
So before I leave, I need 50 East Coast Things To Do Before I PEACE. Any and all ideas are welcome. I'll start.. but post up some more good ones!
1) Eat at the Dinosaur BBQ.
2) Ski Toggenburg as much as possible.
3) Take pictures with the windmills.
4) Go to a hockey game.
5) Throw some back with the neighbors.
...off to a great start. Just need your help with 45 more!
hey, I'm not as frustrated as normal.
textually yours,
m.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Snap Back to Reality
Whooop there goes gravity.
Class starts at 10 and I'm blinking a million times to make sure my eyes will stay open. No promises though because any class seems to be sleep-through-worthy these days.
The pre-Thanksgiving countdown has already started, and I'm anticipating the fury that is the few weeks between that and Christmas- the end of the semester.
Flown by? Maybe, but not without refueling a few times, and a lot of turbulence for sure. This semester has left me feeling old and exhausted. With the weekend drink as the only means to wind down, it adds to the circle of death by adding to my continuous drained feeling.
This weekend, school will be hosting it's annual JibFest. I'm stoked for the on-campus rail jam, but there is a lot to do before Friday comes. And that's just for that. Add on homework (yes, I still do most of it) and single-digit hours of sleep, and somehow it'll all get thrown together.
I seem to be the only person I know who can function on little to no sleep. While it makes me pretty miserable, and can't be good for those undereye circles, it just seems like the only option sometimes. Any free time is devoted to homework, errands or cleaning the house- which seems to be the major factor of time consumption lately.
Being adults, you'd think we'd finally realize that there aren't any magic bathroom fairies, but as it turns out, some of us still think that. Apparently people around me still think there are magic cleaning fairies, as our trash sat in the kitchen for over a week, filled to the brim, reeking of sour decomposition of it's contents. While I quietly refused to empty it, there it sat. Amongst all of the homedwellers and visitors, no one said anything, until a Friday at home prompted a friend to take it out- saying she couldn't take it anymore.
It feels like at 21, I'm closer to 31, yet the "kids" I'm picking up after are all officially older than me. But as the old adage goes, I guess age is just a number...
As class draws near, I painfully hope to pound out a few more lines, though my hands are cracked and dry from dishwashing. Dainty? Far from. Many would leave the dishes out til someone else got the hint-- but I guess that doesn't happen.
When are we going to cut the cord? Because I think I can still see it attached to some of my friends. From household to household, there's still a clear matriarch and patriarch, despite our single-sex living environments. I'm pretty exhausted as a Mom though. The nickanme is a compliment, but the banks about broke with the number of family dinners I've had to sponsor, and the nail polish is chipped from the dishes.
Rant? Perhaps, but it's been due for awhile. I sense a professor lingering. Time to slee---learn.
frustratedly yours,
j
Class starts at 10 and I'm blinking a million times to make sure my eyes will stay open. No promises though because any class seems to be sleep-through-worthy these days.
The pre-Thanksgiving countdown has already started, and I'm anticipating the fury that is the few weeks between that and Christmas- the end of the semester.
Flown by? Maybe, but not without refueling a few times, and a lot of turbulence for sure. This semester has left me feeling old and exhausted. With the weekend drink as the only means to wind down, it adds to the circle of death by adding to my continuous drained feeling.
This weekend, school will be hosting it's annual JibFest. I'm stoked for the on-campus rail jam, but there is a lot to do before Friday comes. And that's just for that. Add on homework (yes, I still do most of it) and single-digit hours of sleep, and somehow it'll all get thrown together.
I seem to be the only person I know who can function on little to no sleep. While it makes me pretty miserable, and can't be good for those undereye circles, it just seems like the only option sometimes. Any free time is devoted to homework, errands or cleaning the house- which seems to be the major factor of time consumption lately.
Being adults, you'd think we'd finally realize that there aren't any magic bathroom fairies, but as it turns out, some of us still think that. Apparently people around me still think there are magic cleaning fairies, as our trash sat in the kitchen for over a week, filled to the brim, reeking of sour decomposition of it's contents. While I quietly refused to empty it, there it sat. Amongst all of the homedwellers and visitors, no one said anything, until a Friday at home prompted a friend to take it out- saying she couldn't take it anymore.
It feels like at 21, I'm closer to 31, yet the "kids" I'm picking up after are all officially older than me. But as the old adage goes, I guess age is just a number...
As class draws near, I painfully hope to pound out a few more lines, though my hands are cracked and dry from dishwashing. Dainty? Far from. Many would leave the dishes out til someone else got the hint-- but I guess that doesn't happen.
When are we going to cut the cord? Because I think I can still see it attached to some of my friends. From household to household, there's still a clear matriarch and patriarch, despite our single-sex living environments. I'm pretty exhausted as a Mom though. The nickanme is a compliment, but the banks about broke with the number of family dinners I've had to sponsor, and the nail polish is chipped from the dishes.
Rant? Perhaps, but it's been due for awhile. I sense a professor lingering. Time to slee---learn.
frustratedly yours,
j
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
to all the haters
I used to become upset, no no, extremely angered, when my favorite bloggers wouldn't frequently update their pages. I didn't understand why someone would have a blog if they weren't going to update it.
For weeks, I'd refresh the pages of my favorite blogs, and still would be disappointed- but now I'm the one causing frustration.
People have lives. I think we get so caught up in the million things WE'RE doing, that we forget that other people are busy as well. I can't believe it's been so long since I posted, let alone wrote something significant or meaningful to me. Sure I've been busy writing for my school paper, but that isn't anything I'm proud of.
So hopefully I can get back here soon.
Sorry for making everyone else, textually frustrated.
For weeks, I'd refresh the pages of my favorite blogs, and still would be disappointed- but now I'm the one causing frustration.
People have lives. I think we get so caught up in the million things WE'RE doing, that we forget that other people are busy as well. I can't believe it's been so long since I posted, let alone wrote something significant or meaningful to me. Sure I've been busy writing for my school paper, but that isn't anything I'm proud of.
So hopefully I can get back here soon.
Sorry for making everyone else, textually frustrated.
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