Claymore.

Thus concludes my first weekend working at Claymore! Overall it's a pretty sweet gig. I get to make free drinks (well, one free drink per shift), which means Excavations of Claymore are soon to return! In just two nights, I've already created Crackle Cider and the Golden Mocha. At last my creative taste buds can be exercised to their full potential! Soon my tongue will be nice and buff, like Trogdor's beefy arm. Rawr.

It didn't take long for me to learn to make a quality latté. My organizational skills are a little lacking, but that will improve with practice. The only real downside I've seen is that, every so often, you get a psycho on the other side of the counter.

My first night, two other baristas came in partway through my shift, both thinking they were working a double with me. As they were sorting out the schedule, I was working on drinks for a few different people and paused to rinse off some things (because if the next person orders chai, they don't really want residue of hot chocolate in their drink). This girl at the counter loudly demands, "HOW LONG DO I HAVE TO WAIT TO ORDER?"

The other two apologized and told her they were just trying to figure out who was supposed to be there. She said something along the lines of that wasn't her problem and she'd been waiting there for blah blah (she'd only been there for like, three minutes, and there had been two or three people ahead of her).

I politely told her that I could include residue of banana and hazelnut in her order if she'd like to place it right away.

I think this will be my downfall. I don't take shit from people like her; I dish it right back. Hope that's not grounds for unemployment (grounds... ha ha... that's punny, cause I work at a coffee shop... get it? Ha ha...)

The other downside is, I'm gonna have to make it through my 10:30-2AM shift without making myself any coffee, because I was up until 4 this morning even with the time change factored in. But it was a darn good coffee. Soon to be excavated.

Peace, love and third person omniscient,
Miss Rex

Bird!

I woke up from a crazy dream this morning. First I was on a long bus ride from an Italian airport, trying to get to Assisi. My family and roommate were there. Suddenly it was time for us to get off, but I wasn't ready and my shoes were off. I tried to put on my Chucks and found a teabag in one of them. Surely this reflects the number of random teabags sitting out to dry in my apartment (although this situation has improved since I posted a poem called "No Teabaggin'" over our trash can... will post photos later).

Then I was in a posh hotel room with two king-size beds and a whole wall of windows. The decor was mod, mostly reds, blacks and whites. My mom and grandma were there, trying to decide what to order from the hotel's in-house restaurant. I finally convinced them that we'd be better off taking a walk and seeing what was in the area. I checked Facebook to see if my Italian beau would be available for a visit, but he was in Canada.

Next thing I knew I was on the roof with my mom. In the distance I saw an enormous black bird (think Howl in Howl's Moving Castle, except bigger, and not a big softie at heart). The sight of him gave me chills.


Suddenly the bird attacked us, fast as a flying arrow. We battled her up and down the gables and precipices of a spooky old castle and finally warded her off long enough for my mom to say, "Well. You have some really f*d up friends."

The bird was coming back, but my alarm went off before the final showdown... alas.

I need to start blogging again. I told myself I'd keep up with Claymore reviews, but they never have any flavors when I go. Tis a sad state of affairs. But the happy state of affairs is that I will be a barista there come Friday! THEN I shall have flavors! *Insert maniacal laughter here*

The other reason I haven't been around (well, one of many) is that, when I'm not in class, at Skipping Stone, doing homework or working at the writing center, I'm putting all of my creative energy into my novel. Next semester I'll be a part-time student, and both of my classes will allow (in fact, they will require) that I work on my book ALL THE TIME. So I'll probably finish it by summer. And maybe have time for blogging in between.

Then, on to the headache that is publishing! I am blessed to be at Skipping Stone, where our director of publishing has agreed to look over my work and point me in the right direction, whether that be to an agent or editor or publishing house (she has connections with HarperCollins and Penguin... not to mention, Skipping Stone itself publishes YA fiction). I have high hopes, dear friends, that you will be able to hold a copy of Before the Empty Moon in your very hands in the semi-near future!

And now, before your boredom degrades into full-out unconsciousness, I bid thee adieu!

Peace, love and toilet paper,
Miss Rex

Highlights

If you've been wondering "Where's Miss Rex?" the answer actually ISN'T school this time. I mean, I've BEEN at school, but I haven't been without free time. I'm only taking twelve credits this semester. Granted, I'm balancing an internship, my job at the writing center, a fiction writing class, the communication theory class from hell, and a relationship, but I am not without free time.

I am just choosing to spend it away from the dear old blog.

All of my creative energy right now is funneling into one place: My novel. I am determined to finish a FULL draft by graduation in May, or maybe even by Christmas now that I've had this conversation with my supervisor at Skipping Stone Media:

Eramer: You should definitely see [movie I shamefully hadn't seen]. It's directed by [director whose name I didn't know].
Me: *Blank stare*
Eramer: It's got [actor whose name I'd heard but whose face I would never recognize].
Me: All right, I don't know my directors or actors at all. Sorry. I've always been a book person.
Eramer: Hah. I'm a movie guy. I don't read books.
Me: (Thinking: but you run a publishing company...) Out loud: Well you should. Would you read a book if I wrote it?
Eramer: Sure. Of course I would. But I would rather publish it.

So you see? I've got myself a deal now. It's practically in writing and everything. Now all I need is the manuscript.

Actually, I have many a tale from the internship, so I guess that's what this post is going to be about now.

My first day, I spent the morning brainstorming ideas for the website. Alone. I am the only intern on site from 9-1 on Tuesdays. Then Eramer comes in and drops a stack of green paper about two inches thick on my desk. "I know you really want to read this, so... just go ahead. Have fun."

It's the script for the new Narnia movie. I practically pee my pants with excitement. I'm told I will be guillotined if I leave a page lying around anywhere but the office. There's a fake title page, just to throw people off in case I don't heed the guillotine threat and leave the thing lying around on some table in a food court somewhere.

I'm pretty sure that would be about the same as leaving the Hope Diamond on a food court table somewhere.

On to the next story. What, you think I'm going to tell you about the script? I value my neck, thanks. So on to the next story.

I showed up the next Tuesday about twenty minutes before Eramer or anyone else. When he got there, he let us in and started unpacking at his desk while I got the TVs in the lobby going. Then Eramer started laughing. "Hey, can I share a moment with you?" he said, poking his head out of his "office." "Look at what my daughter did." He showed me his briefcase. It was full of his little daughter's Mickey Mouse and Cookie Monster toys.

Someday I will have a kid that cute.

Nothing especially funny happened today, except that I got chastised for being the only intern not wearing purple. This is ironic because, as a general rule, I am more likely to wear purple than the average person. I may show up in my purple jeans on Thursday... that will show them.

Peace, love and GaGa,
Miss Rex

P.S. Claymore Drink of the Week coming soon! I'm waiting for the baristas to get their shit together. Right now Kenya's the only one who seems to know what's what, and I don't drink coffee at the hours he works.

You've just crossed over into the Twilight Zone...

Today has been weird.

It all started with this crazy dream in which I'd gone fountain-diving for change. When I surfaced, I decided I had better find a Coin*Star, but then my ex was there with a $25 bill and he said he'd trade me.

"Are you sure I even found that much?" I asked dubiously. He seemed to really want the change, so I dropped it at his feet.

"Just kidding," he said, but I was too quick and I took the bill from him. He wanted to fight me for it so I ran. Turned out it was actually a $220 bill. I realized I'd made out like a bandit and hid it in my pants, because that's what all good crooks do with their money. Please don't ever try to rob me.

Long story short, he chased me around for what seemed like hours. He caught up to me in an elevator that looked like the inside of a glacier. I pushed the button to go down to my car. He pushed the button for the top floor. The elevator started to go up. I was stuck.

Lucky for me, his half of the elevator suddenly dropped away as an automated voice said it had gotten too hot. Global warming for the win.

Some kids I found upstairs agreed to help me escape. My ex soon found me and I started jumping down whole flights of stairs to get away. I think the kids deterred him but I woke up before I could get to the car.

When I woke up, my alarm hadn't even gone off yet. Normally it's all I can do to roll out of bed after hitting snooze a couple of times, but today I couldn't even fall back asleep to finish the dream.

It was a dark, but thankfully not stormy, day at camp.

When I got there, two of the three other counselors I work with in the half-day program weren't in. All the older campers had gone on a field trip, leaving us with the run of the school, field, blacktop and playground. Eerie factor #1: Spending the day in a ghost school.

Then my boss randomly told us we're no longer allowed to help the kids in the bathroom, even the three-year-olds who can't always pull up their pants themselves. I'm sure some parent complained (that's fairly common in our line of work), but it seemed random in the context of random events that preceded and followed. That was eerie factor #2.

Then the fire alarm testing began (eerie factor #3).

We took the kids out to the playground because the noise was scaring some of them. I prayed to God it wouldn't rain. It stayed dreary and hot.

We were in the middle of setting up for our unbirthday bash - complete with hoodsie cups, party hats, and noisemakers - when, eerie factor #4, water started gushing out of a spigot in the side of the school. Not just any spigot, either - one at the top of the wall, just inches below the roof line. And not just any water - this shit was black.

It was all we could do to keep the kids from going to investigate, especially when our instincts were to do the same. After about 5 minutes it stopped, leaving a stinking black puddle on the blacktop. I started to wonder whether calling it "shit" in my mind was really such an inaccurate prognosis.

And THEN the seagulls showed up. A huge one landed right in the middle of the tables where we'd had our unbirthday bash. My co-worker's boyfriend had brought their kitten for show and tell and I was terrified the monster bird would carry it away. Good thing there was a wall of children surrounding the poor thing.

After my boss chased away the seagull, it perched on the corner of the building and watched us, calling to its minions every so often. That was eerie factor #5. Alfred Hitchcock, anyone?

By the time we went inside, seagulls were wheeling overhead and my kids were preparing to sacrifice me to them.

Needless to say, TGIF.

Peace, love and stupid frickin goddamn silly bands,
Miss Rex

Sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G

Wow. It really is true: Boys are the same across the board, regardless of age or religion or nationality.

Today my littlest, cutest camper was wearing a big, red ring on one of his fingers. One of my other kids told him that meant he had to kiss a girl, and the littler one accepted this without question. The bigger one then went on to coach him, helping him decide which girl to kiss and how to go about it.

Seeing as they're three, I saw no reason to put a stop to their scheming. Little did I know I was the selected target.

For the next hour I kept hearing, "Now, Shane!" This was invariably followed by a little kid barreling into my leg, wrapping his arms around it, and kissing my thigh (the highest he could reach) with a very loud and enthusiastic *smack.*

Now rewind about a month. It was my last night in Italy, and one of my companions had been pulling the 21-year-old equivalent of "Now, Shane!" for at least three days, trying to get one of the Italians we'd befriended to kiss me on the cheek.

Let it be known that I was more than okay with this plan. And he did finally go through with it. I guess the make-out sesh that happened afterward was where the situations varied...

But I'd say the evidence more than supports my hypothesis.

Peace, love and portobello mushrooms,
Miss Rex

On parachutes, props and pride

Today was awesome. Okay, some stuff went wrong here and there, also known as being a woman, but really I haven't a single complaint.

First off. It's been a while since I've updated. I'm working at summer camp again with the 3-5 year olds. I was disappointed they put me with the littlest littlies this year, but you know what? They are a-freaking-dorable, and they get bonus points for ALL being potty trained!

A couple weeks ago I told my supervisor we should get the kids a parachute because it always used to be my favorite part of camp, but she didn't think we had it in the budget. Then today she showed up with a parachute! All the other counselors gave me funny looks when I jumped up and down with excitement. I just love parachutes. I got to be the mouse for Cat and Mouse. My job is the best.

Then I went to The Pantsless One's house to film a commercial for a contest we're entering. I borrowed ALL sorts of equipment from a friend who works at a TV station (we won't name any names here ^_^) and I was pretty much set to shoot the thing.

Unfortunately, the guy putting in the floor in the room we needed to film in didn't leave until 7:00 (I swear the floor was done when I got there at 2), and our time-killing prop-shopping spree fell on its face when Wal*Mart failed to have a scuba mask.

But TPO's living room is now effectively a green screen studio, complete with amazing pro lighting that DIDN'T blow any circuits! It's a small miracle. Not to mention we have something resembling an actual script now that we've had time to talk it over, and it's leagues better than the vague idea I started with. Tomorrow we film!

After the studio was set, we picked up our friend The Italian and watched The Breakfast Club, which I shamefully have never seen. But I left early so I could get a good night's sleep before work. So why am I here online blogging at 1:30 in the morning, you ask?

I couldn't stop thinking about a sentence I lost. It was the last sentence of my entire fantasy series and it was possibly the most beautiful thing I'd ever written. But I hadn't had my notebook with me when I thought of it, so I jotted it down in... whatever I happened to be carrying at the time, which could have been anything.

I remembered the page being narrow but still having lines. I remembered it being the last empty page in the notebook. But I'd already checked the last page of every notebook I could find with no success.

Since sleep would not take pity on me, I got up and dug through some more school papers. I checked between the pages of books to see if I'd torn it out and used it as a bookmark. I found a $15 iTunes gift card, which was the next best thing, but no epic concluding sentence.

Then I got the crazy idea to start reading every page in all my notebooks until I found it. First I started flipping through one of the notebooks I'd used for my journalism class, and BAM! There it was! Right in the middle of the notebook. I think it really was the last blank page I had, it just wasn't at the end....

The last reason today was awesome is this article. Christians get a bad rep for hating on homosexuals, and I resent that. As I'm sure I've said many a time, being a Christian is about LOVE. Jesus didn't support prostitution, but he loved the Samaritan lady who had had five husbands and was living with another man. So too should we love the people we tend to judge. Judging is never our job.

I admire these Christians who showed up at a gay pride parade to humble themselves and apologize. I am moved and inspired by their bravery. I hope God blesses them and all they do in his name, the name of love.

Peace, love and panda hats,
Miss Rex

All you need is love

All you need is love, and my weekend was full of it.

Thursday I had dinner with my friend Shmoe and his parents. We've been friends since Shmoe moved here our sophomore year of high school and I've always been close with his family too. Now that he's in the Coast Guard, we don't get to hang out much, so it was really excellent to catch up. After dinner we went for a night walk to see the fireflies in the fields behind his house. I've never seen so many! It was most magical. Shmoe caught me one, but it liked him better and flew away when he passed it to me.

Friday I took Derry on a little road trip to see my buddy Extra Large in a Medium World (remember my Awkward Game adversary?). I didn't think the little guy (the car, I mean) had it in him, but he made it without a problem. If one considers me driving most of the way without stepping on the brake to be "without a problem."

XL's mom made us delicious French toast with homemade caramel syrup for brunch. Let's just say I can understand why XL doesn't like school food. After, he took me to this park with a pond and a waterfall where he used to go fishing. We found a tetherball pole and I challenged him to a game.

If anyone is wondering, taking on a 6'7" guy at tetherball is not a recipe for win, and I have a bruise on my shin to prove it (turns out climbing the tetherball pole is also not a recipe for win).

We had to stop for crumbly crack (to all you normal people, butternut) donuts from this place in his town because even crazies need a little extra crazy sometimes. Then we crashed XL's dad's college reunion. They gave us good food and we cloud-watched for a solid hour and a half while the alumni caught up. I spotted an elephant and Hokusai, the great wave. XL found a bunch of dinosaurs and a camel. Overall a pretty successful round of cloud-gazing. We'll call it a tie.

Saturday I got to play princesses with Princess Sharon. She used to be my teacher but now she throws magical birthday parties for little girls, and I help sometimes. I befriended this in the mansion we partied at that day:

"Ford." "Yes." "I think I'm a sofa." "I know how you feel..." - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

The party was in the town next to the town where my first boyfriend (a.k.a. He Who Must Not Be Named) lived. His house wasn't exactly on the way, but I was early and remembered how to get there even after six years (and in spite of the fact I hadn't driven myself there back in the day; it was before I had a license). So I thought I'd drive by and see how the place was doing. HWMNBN moved out west ages ago but the house is still crunchasaurus ice cream blue, so I assume his grandparents still live there. It was weird seeing that it hadn't changed at all. It was like, instead of going to the town six years later, I just drove back in time and saw it the way it used to be. Hm, surreal. But off topic.

After the party I drove into Boston (miraculously Derry STILL hadn't broken down) to see another school friend, who we're gonna call Rad because he showed me this amazing song by the band Radical Face:



You don't have to watch. Just listen and be amazed.

Rad and I grabbed dinner at Chipotle and walked around the Prudential Center playing Never Have I Ever. We realized we'd mostly done and not done the same things, except I'd never kissed a girl.

The mall was mostly closed since it was after 9, but Barnes and Noble was still open (cue heavenly light beams and angel choir). We bonded over creepy posters of Robert Pattinson and that werewolf guy, Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, and (naturally) poetry.

We were going to crash a bar after that, just to see if we could get in, but everyone was carding at the door so we just went back to his apartment. Rad played Train and Somewhere Over the Rainbow on his electric ukelele and showed me his balcony. Then I realized it was late-ish and my mother would worry if I didn't come home soon, so I left, and Derry still didn't die.

Today I had lunch with an atheist I met at my former youth group. It had been more than a year since we'd hung out, but thankfully he's one of those crazy people who never change. At least the parts you love never change. I'm sure he's smarter and more mature than back in the day. We got sammiches and ice cream and disturbed the other patrons with our enthusiastic discussion of mosh pits and hymns.

The reason I had to go back and write this very long post (thank you, anyone who's still with me) is because someone I consider a decent friend made me feel really stupid and worthless tonight, and I needed to remind myself how many amazing, positive, loving people I have in my life. The Beatles got a lot of things right, and this was one of them: all you need is love.

Peace, love and Paul McCartney,
Miss Rex

Fame! (Doodlybop)

SO MANY GREAT THINGS ARE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. I don't even know what to do. Maybe like, dance party plus eat cookies times hug people squared....

Saturday was Adam Ezra Group's CD (re)release party at the Paradise. As I mentioned before, I got to chat it up with Adam freakin' Ezra last week, as I was hyping the party in this article I was writing for my journalism internship.

Said article is now on BOSTON.COM!!! This is.... (I'm searching for an adjective that could possibly encompass my excitement)... Radical! Stellar! Fan-freakin'-tabulous!!! Yes, the plethora of exclamation points is NECESSARY!!!!!

Ahem. So, that's the big news.

The party was great fun! I was one of the first people in because I'm a groupie like that because I seriously overestimated how long I would be lost in the labyrinthine, unlabeled streets of Boston even with my new GPS. Said hello to Turtle and Robin Vincent on my way in. Claimed the best spot in the house - front and dead center, leaning on the speakers - and waited that last agonizing hour between doors and showtime.

The first band was called Girls Guns and Glory. They're the sort of band that are a lot of fun live but not really something I'd listen to in my car, or anywhere else. Too western-sounding. But there was a guy with an accordion, which rocked, and the bassist had this weird upright bass with no body, just all neck. And of course, I was close enough to reach out and play the lead singer's guitar if I'd wanted to, but I'm not into the whole interfering-with-the-show bit.

But some people are into that sort of thing. This one young lady clambered over all of us in the front row and started dancing on stage. ("I thought this place used to have security," said the woman next to me. Yeah, I thought so too.) The band just kept playing; I don't think there was much else they could do. Then the song ended and Very Drunk Dancing Girl gave them all kisses and hopped off the stage. Good gravy. People.

Then it was Adam Ezra Group's turn to play. I've never seen people so jazzed about them, yelling and singing and dancing like that - I mean, it was more upbeat than the last Relient K show I saw! Somehow that just shouldn't happen. Even I, who had spent two and a half days with my face buried in a tissue, was singing my heart out. In fact, I might even credit this show with curing me. Anyway it cured, or at least boosted, my rather drab outlook on life. AND, Adam bent down away from the mic mid-song to tell me, "Great article!"

It's hard NOT to be inspired when a band you love decides to share the spotlight on their big night and give all the money they make to Haiti relief efforts. They passed around the Love Bucket (a.k.a. a re-labeled recycling bin) and people filled it with even MORE money, after they had already donated just by buying a ticket. Adam dumped it all out on stage and they played the rest of the show wading through a sea of cash. I was devastated that I hadn't brought my camera. You'll just have to use your imagination.

But it would have been inspiring even minus the Haiti angle and minus the "great article" comment. Adam is one of those people, like Jon Foreman, that can make things seem better just by being in the same room. I don't get how people can do that. Granted, he was pretty giddy himself; Aerosmith's bassist came out and played a song with them, and Adam's only looked up to the guy for like, his entire life.

Then Very Drunk Dancing Girl returned for an encore (I couldn't believe they hadn't made her leave). This time she brought a friend. Security actually showed up and tried to get them to leave, but the friend wouldn't go until she'd told Turtle "I love you!" and kissed Adam on the cheek. God. No shame.

We all had a great time being rowdy and obnoxious during the new song, "Scandal," but I think the most fun was when everyone from both bands came out on stage for Bob Dylan's "Wagon Wheel." It was one of those bighappyfamily moments, with everyone on stage and the whole crowd singing and dancing along. That's why AEG is different from other bands. Other band have fans; AEG has a family. Aww cute.

Well that's all for now; stay tuned since I've got a new scene to post after tomorrow's playwright's workshop!

Peace, love, and FAME!
~ Miss Rex

Connections

Hey everybody! Sorry it's been so long. How I have missed spilling my guts to each and every one of you! Let's catch up, shall we?

Last week I had the opportunity to go behind the scenes at WBZ. My neighbor, Mr. Ed, took me to work with him and I got to meet the people that make the news happen. Or, I mean, make it appear on TV. Not that it wouldn't be awesome if my neighbor was involved in an international circle of crime responsible for every calamity you see on the news.

Mr. Ed gave me the grand tour and introduced me to tech people, writers, newscasters, and most notably, Ken Barlow the weatherman, who let me push the button that makes the clouds move across the screen. I got to sit in while Jack Williams and Lisa Huges did the 10-and 30-second teasers that air between shows and suck people into watching the news. Mr. Ed filmed and edited those suckers in like thirty minutes flat. He was temporarily working a night shift and sharing an office with Sean, the producer, so I got to meet him too (and got mistaken for his girlfriend by Jack Williams XD). He does that thing I do with videos, where he tries to fit too much stuff in not enough time. Unlike me, he's got someone else (Mr. Ed) trimming to make it fit, and that's where the pressure really happens. Lucky Sean.

Overall I was really impressed at the team they had over there. It's a very well-oiled machine. As much as I'd hate to get in the way of that, I hope there'll be some opportunity for me to get involved, maybe as an intern or a PA or something. Mr. Ed says he'll let me know. Fingers crossed.

Sunday night I saw my birth mother and her husband (who's not my father). I've met Momma once before... not counting the nine months I spent inside her. She was nervous, and even Hubby was cautious lest he do anything to offend us, but everyone relaxed more as the night went on. We took a walk down to the Reservoir and I caught Momma up on some of my recent adventures. Then we lounged in the living room and Momma showed me pictures of their boat on the canal by their home in Florida, and the family at their cabin in Maine. Someday I hope I can visit both in real life, but for now I'm keeping things on my parents' turf (that is, the ones that raised me) until they're comfortable letting my birth parents have a more significant place in my life. Which would never, ever be before the parents I've lived with for twenty years; they've been there through it all and no one could ever replace that.

Other than that, it's been the same old same old... although with my job, nothing is ever really the same old. Sad that I've only got three days left with my kiddos.

Til next time! Peace, love, and toe socks.

Happy Days

In continuation of my epic story of the epic past two weeks of my life:

Bear came to visit from Ohio the day after the Reel Big Fish show and so naturally everyone wanted to hang out that day. Ravin and Bear came to my house, soon to be joined by Boyfriend and then Ash. We watched Ranma 1/2, this preposterous show about a guy and his dad who fell into magic ponds that caused them to turn into a girl and a panda, respectively, every time they touched cold water for the rest of their lives (but luckily, warm water could turn them back).

My mom got us pizza and then we all went to the playground at Derby again, where those of us who were so inclined proceeded to act like five year olds. We were pirates and fought over the crow's nest. We were farmers and planted corn in the sandbox. We were artists and made sand sculptures (Ash naturally made a Caterpie). Then we went down to the water, where I risked life and limb climbing out on a fallen tree, and followed the trail up again to the sports field, where I rolled down the grassy hill yelling "AS YOU WISH!!!" like in The Princess Bride.

Then we went back to my house to watch some horribly violent anime that Boyfriend chose, which was an all right movie except for some reason I really couldn't keep up with what was going on. Maybe I was too distracted by all the blood and sex. Ugh, anime sex. That's an experience I'd rather not repeat thank you. Then we left my house just as The Pantsless One and Shark got there, because the fam needed to go to bed, but my mom and I had a falling out first. I hadn't planned on going anywhere because I was tired, but then I was mad and didn't want to get yelled at just then so I left anyway. I accidentally passed out at Ravin's house and got home later than I should've, but I'd texted saying I'd be home so I had to go back. I got yelled at the next day and then apologized to because apparently my one responsible act of the night, texting that I'd be home, was never seen. =/

I was pretty tired the next day, but things at work were going all right. We took the kids to the music circus, which means we have to walk with them down the street and keep track of them at the show. Everything went smoothly until we were leaving. Coming out of the tent, I had all my kids and then Ian started crying again. It had been like a week and a half of this - he literally hadn't stopped crying since the fourth of July. So I was trying to console him, and the next thing I knew, two of my girls were nowhere to be found. I searched the whole place and couldn't find them. But when I got back to the group, they were back. Aaah. I do not envy parents; that's a freaky experience, and I can only imagine how bad it is if the kid's your own.

My boss said I handled it well and stayed very calm (this alleged calm was actually exhaustion but shh). She wasn't even mad that I lost them to begin with and had only good things to say to me at the end of the day. Ummkay.

Then I joined up with Ravin, TPO and Bear and we went to the beach. We drove to like five different ones before settling somewhere, and the one we finally picked had bacteria-infested water, so we couldn't go swimming, and was roped off for like half a mile because of endangered birds in the dunes. That night we were going to go dancing, but Ravin had to go home for dinner and I passed out at Boyfriend's house after that so obviously I didn't go. I guess it turned out the others didn't either.

Friday Boyfriend and I went to the beach with Ravin, TPO and Bear. We didn't stay long, but long enough for me to convince Boyfriend to get in the water, which was actually quite nice for ocean water. I didn't even have goosebumps. My dorkburger of a boyfriend was wearing scrubs instead of a proper bathing suit and we made fun of him. Or rather I did, I think the others actually had very little to say on the topic.

We left pretty soon. Boyfriend, Bear and I walked to Scoops, ate ice cream, and walked back while waiting for Ravin and TPO to be done with.... whatever it is they do when nobody sees them for hours on end. Getting dressed, I guess. XD

Later The Cuddle Rapist and his friend Spaz showed up and we all went swimming in Ravin's pool. We'd already been in the ocean so the pool felt especially warm after that. And the heater had been on all day. It was practically like taking a bath.

Saturday: same time, same place, same people. TPO made delicious gooey brownies and Spaz serenaded us all with Ravin's guitar. Then everyone went swimming again, but by this time I was so tired that even the warm pool water would have felt chilly. I react to exhaustion by getting cold. My body just doesn't have the energy to warm itself up. Since Boyfriend didn't feel like swimming either, we went downstairs and he played video games while I slept AGAIN. I need to work on my sleeping patterns. I just kept not catching up at nights and involuntarily trying to catch up at all manner of inconvenient times.

Sunday night, I went to hang out and swim with people again. Ravin and TPO's new buddies Gerry and Alex came and we swam for a little bit. After that, someone started playing video games and before I knew it I was asleep again. In my sleep I recruited Bear as a space heater since Ravin's basement is frigid at all times of the year. Everyone else went on some adventure, probably to Wal*Mart, but I was dead to the world. And didn't feel much better when I had to get up for work the next day. Ughhhh.

Tuesday night, Bear's last night here, we all went to see the new Harry Potter movie at midnight. I got Boyfriend to come even though he's not into Harry Potter at all. What a good sport. But yet again, since I still hadn't caught up on all the sleep I'd been trying to catch up on all week, I was brutally tired. Unlike Bear I managed to stay awake for the car ride there, but I kept nodding off for the first half of the movie. Then it got funnier and laughing helped me wake up a little.

That was the strongest point of this movie, I think - the humor. Because it's really just a set-up movie for the last one (or two, since I think that's what they're doing with the last book). Romance was a big factor in the story but the actors made it hugely awkward. I think the director must have realized that and purposely made things even more ridiculous so it wouldn't be as painful for the rest of us.

I definitely passed out for the entire ride home, and when we got back to Ravin's house, Boyfriend had to drive us back in my car because I couldn't even walk in a straight line, let alone drive in one. We bid Bear farewell and drove back to Boyfriend's. The sun was already coming up by the time we got home and crashed.

Work really sucked on Wednesday. This one kid who's always causing trouble kicked someone and I was told to bring him to the boss (she's the highest order threat we can pull on these kids), but he refused to move so I just dragged him down the hall. In hindsight I'm sure that was a terrible idea. I figured that after a couple feet worth of dirt and embarrassment, he'd realize he was being ridiculous and get up, but he made me drag him all the way across the school. W

e walked by this random guy about my age or a little younger, I don't know why he was there because he definitely wasn't with the rec program, but anyway he laughed at us and said he wanted a turn, which I'm sure didn't encourage the kid to get off his behind. So the moral of the story is, try to sleep when you have a job that involves working with children, because they will push you to your limits even if you're well rested and lord only knows what you'll do to them if you're not. XD

Things only got worse later that day because I had to get a shot, which is a bad enough ordeal when I've slept because my body passes out when foreign substances enter my blood stream. I've developed a terrible phobia of needles because of the reaction I have to them. I knew I couldn't drive myself home after that, so I got Boyfriend to take me (long story short, I was absolutely justified in doing so rather than having my mom bring me) and he handled it really well, even when I saw the needle and started bawling and shaking, all while curled up in the fetal position. Unfortunately I exaggerate not.

I managed to stay conscious while we were at the doctor's office and all the way out to the car but I passed out on the way home, and I mean actually passed out, not like I just fell asleep again. I hate the feeling because first I get really nauseous. Then I start sweating. Then I get this ringing in my ears, which gets louder until I can't even hear myself speak (but I knew that I was telling Boyfriend I was going to faint, I just couldn't hear it or feel my lips saying it). My vision goes black around the edges and I get this aura in the middle, which would be really pretty if it didn't feel like crap. And then I go out. But I always come to, and we got home all right and then at long last I got to go to sleep for real, for the first time in over a week, uninterrupted sleep alone in my own bed with my blankie and my beary. Mmm yay

Well that was really long and I don't blame you if you didn't read it all. Haha Bear, you thought you were special to get a mention in my blog? How about a novel, here ya go XD

Episode One: Tuesday's gray and Wednesday, too.

BUH I'm SO tired right now. Didn't sleep much all weekend, and as usual when I don't sleep, it was well worth it. Let's see let's see, but it's been a while since I updated so I'll start with last week.

Sunday my family was supposed to leave for vacation in New Hampshire, but my dad was re-siding the house and put off leaving til Monday. Then when I got home from work on Monday he'd decided they weren't going at all because he wanted to finish siding the whole house and not just the part he was supposed to finish before vacation. If it could've stopped raining the week before everything would've been fine, thank you; he would've got the siding up and they would've been out of here Monday at the latest, leaving the place to me.

I've never had the house to myself. I didn't have any grand plans (although Boyfriend and Dick were determined to show up with lots of people and even more booze) but I was looking forward to the quiet, to not being bothered while in the middle of things, to not being bossed or interrogated or forced to use dirty towels in the bathroom because my dad's the only one who ever gets clean towels and he needs one for every shower he takes, even if he takes more than one a day. All minor annoyances, but they drive me nuts when I'm home from school for longer than the month I'm here for Christmas, so I was really upset when I heard they weren't going. It didn't help that it was still raining.

But in the end, it DID help that it was raining. We got some thunder on Wednesday and it looked like it would turn into big storms later on, not to mention the amount my dad, who's a diabetic, had been working was literally killing him, so he relented and decided to go. I was sort of glad to give up giving him the silent treatment. It feels very rude to me, and I hate to be rude. However, even those to whom we automatically owe respect, like parents, can lose respect, and in my opinion, going back on his word, disappointing the four other people who'd been looking forward to this week, and thinking only of himself and how he wanted to have weekends to himself for the rest of the summer were good enough reasons to shelve my respect for the time being. But thankfully he followed through in the end. Better late than never.

That night I had Boyfriend over for dinner, served on our holiday dishes and illuminated by candlelight. Then we watched Ghost Hunters again. Last time we watched that I couldn't sleep, and not because it's an especially scary show but just because after watching it, I started assuming every miscellaneous sound was caused by something supernatural instead of something normal like wind or water in the pipes, and there were a lot of miscellaneous sounds that night. And a storm, which normally I like but that night all I could think of was how the tree thrashing outside my window looked like a laughing demon and I could feel him watching me even with the shade closed. So I took some melatonin and conked out. Anyway, after watching Ghost Hunters this week we watched Kiki's Delivery Service so I wouldn't wig out all night in the empty house.

Thursday was my last day of work for the week because of the holiday weekend. My cute story of the week is, there's this one little boy named Ronan with the most adorable golden blond ringlets. I met him the first time we went outside and the kids had a toy car wash. He was running around in terror, saying that "they" were trying to run him over. I'm assuming he meant the other kids but I guess "they" could've been in his head, too, since no one was actually doing anything of the sort. Anyhow, he does that kind of thing a lot, and he also always walks to and from the playground with me because he trails behind and gets stuck at the end of the line, and that's my spot. And he always says "aww, fiddlesticks!" at least two or three times per walk. When I ask him what's the matter, he says, all huffy, that he's at the end of the line again.

Also, today, me and him and Zach (the one who called me beautiful) and a couple of my girls had a great discussion about love on the way back from the playground. It all started with one of them hugging me, and when I said "Thank you! I love hugs! They're my favorite!" all six of the kids near me had to take turns giving me hugs or kisses. Then Catherine explained, "we give love to our families." I wish you could've heard her say it because it was way cuter coming from her than it is from me.

Thursday night was made of fail because we invited so many people to my house and in the end it was just me and Boyfriend. So we watched the end of Kiki's Delivery Service and went back to his house to sleep.

Friday was when things really started to get interesting. Bet you really want to read about it, don't you? Well HA, you'll have to wait until next time, because I'ma pass out on my keyboard if I try and finish this post now. And it'll be a BEAST of a post if I cram all that excitement into one. Anticipation, my friends. It's a wonderful thing. Often better than the thing you're anticipating. I look back on my high school days of counting down 20, 60, even a hundred days to a show I'd bought tickets to, because going to a show was that big of a deal. It still is, I just go to more of them now and don't have enough space to count down to them all. Lawl. And come to think of it, the show is almost ALWAYS more fun than the anticipation. Reel Big Fish tomorrow at the House of Blues! 1240 minutes... =D

TTFN~

No two people are not on fire.

Week one at my new job as a camp counselor is almost over, and I have no complaints. All right, so we spend a large percentage of the day in the bathroom and I feel like I'm the only counselor on spill patrol at snacktime, but that's forgivable. I'm getting paid to play with a herd of four-year-olds all morning! I almost know all thirteen of my kids' names and I've established enough authority over them to actually get them in some semblance of a straight line when I have to. Sure I feel like I've shouted myself hoarse coming home every day, but it's not because the kids are bad - it's just because I have to make myself heard over their gibbering if I want to get anything done. Thus far every such annoyance has been worth its weight in sheer cuteness. Today one of my little boys turned around, looked up at me, and said, "You're beautiful." Then he turned to his friend next to him and said, "don't you think she's beautiful?" And his friend, very decisively, goes "yes." ZOMG SO CUTE!

After nearly a week of rain and indoor play, we finally got to bring them outside today for a toy car wash. It was the first time I didn't have to be in the midst of the chaos entertaining them, because they took care of it themselves. When we're stuck inside the counselors have to get really creative. Bathroom break becomes storytime for the kids who don't have to pee. Walking down the hall becomes follow the leader with some pretty sweet variations (picture me pretending to be a frog, an airplane, and a chicken). BUT, the lady who supervises the supervisors told me I'm a natural and she could tell right away! =) So overall this job's a lot of fun and really rewarding (and it'll be waiting for me next summer if I want/need it), but I know I'm not ready to be a parent because after three hours, I'm REALLY happy to go home!

I didn't get to do that yesterday, though. I watched Princess Sharon's kids from noon til seven. They are the EPITOME of adorable! I convinced them that hunting dragons is my night job. I said it's very important because people don't believe in dragons, so they can't be allowed to see any - and that's why I have to keep them under control.

They always want to play doctor. Last time I said I had a sore throat and a headache, so Zander took my temperature and decided the only cure was to give me a tattoo on my hand. I said "I don't like needles! I don't want a tattoo! What is it of?" and he said, "a circle with colors in it." Oh. Well, that's okay I guess. Especially since I told him he had enough earwax for me to go spelunking in his ear canal. After that they decided to play hair dresser. Zander started shaving the sides of my head and I said "DO I LOOK LIKE A BOY? Are you giving me a mohawk or what?" Well by the time he and his sister Aizza were finished, I was sporting an imaginary rainbow mohawk.

Speaking of my hair, I'm getting a real haircut tomorrow. Any ideas? I've got to chop off a good four inches, but I don't want to go shorter than my shoulders. I was thinking maybe a little longer in front and shorter in back, but that would require me to straighten it I think and I am way too lazy to do anything with my hair 90% of the time. The other 10% of the time I feel obliged to look decent for Boyfriend. Oh- also, I want to grow out my bangs. So that doesn't leave a whole ton of options. Tell me what you think I should do!!

I'll end on a musical note. I am falling in love with every word that comes out of Matt Nathanson's mouth. I want to melt at every line! Oh love songs....

How to save a life (and a million other rants)

I got CPR certified today. It's for my job as a camp counselor, which starts the 22nd. I'm pissed because there's this one girl, let's see I'll invent a name for her so it's not gossiping.... We shall call her Alyssa. When I saw Alyssa at orientation on Monday I was like WTF??? She lives really close to me so I know the cops are at her house ALL THE TIME because she's always having crazy parties with booze and stuff. She's been at it ever since she got into high school. And now she's working with people's children?? Really? And old enough to be behind the wheel of a car? I mean we're talking Apocalypse-scale disasters waiting to happen here. Well she was late tonight. When she came in an hour after the class started, I was like YES. Now she can't work. Not because I don't want to work with her, although it's true that I can think of no less pleasant way to spend my summer (except maybe with Angry Frodo), but more because I really don't think she should be around people's children. But they certified her anyway! So now if something actually goes wrong, she won't have a clue what to do! REALLY PEOPLE? >:(

And now a rant that actually crossed my mind a couple nights ago but I was too lazy to post it then. I hate Facebook. I really, truly do. It first entices me to creepdom and then reveals things that make me want to break stuff. So this person from my deep, dark past of not that great a depth or darkness is now living the perfect life in the perfect state with a perfect job and a perfect marriage with the only girl in the world who could ever possibly put up with him. He's paid no dues. He has been entirely irresponsible with his entire life. His high school degree doesn't even count! He never did an ounce of work the entire time I knew him and only graduated because he was home schooled! He never did shit, he doesn't know shit, he's never experienced shit. Now he has a job, like a legit one that there is actually a selective process for getting, and HE DIDN'T EVEN GO TO COLLEGE. He is responsible for guiding kids through the process of adolescence as if he could understand their position, as if he ever experienced a second of normal existence in his adolescent life. I mean, I never hated him or wished bad things to happen to him. I didn't want him to fail at life entirely. But it should not be this easy! He's had no pain and all gain! He's ONLY three years older than me. HOW IS HIS LIFE THIS GOOD?

I think it's funny how high school kids' idea of a good time is taking a zillion photos so everyone on Facebook can be jealous of what a good time they had. I think it's disgusting that Facebook albums no longer have a limit on the number of pictures people can post in an album. Nobody has time to look through a dozen different people's 200-photo albums of the same event! This change increases self-absorption because now we believe that people owe it to us to look at these Godzillalbums. 60 pictures was a lot to ask, but doable. 200 pictures is grounds for deletion of friends. Consider yourselves warned.

And now a question of actual importance. Do employers really look at your friends' Facebook profiles? That's really dumb if they do. No there are no pictures of me naked at keggers floating around the internet. The most incriminating thing you could find would probably be me and Schneckleface dyeing our hair turquoise last year. But never in the past have people been so sharply and invasively judged by the people they work for, especially for things they can't control, like what kind of language and pictures people who went to their high school may choose to use on their profiles. I'm not saying I'm hiding anything. I don't think there's anything especially incriminating about pictures of me and my friends bumming around a 24-hour Wal*Mart with goofy galoshes and a gallon of ice cream. But it still feels wrong, like people are prying into something that shouldn't - DOESN'T - concern them.

Now that I have you all in a nice negative mood, it's time for a poll: Would people comment more if I didn't make such long posts? I tend to treat this thing like a journal sometimes... XD

The Goose is getting fat

New from the Starship of Cobra!

Why does Bruce Leroy glow? All I've seen of The Last Dragon is the little clip they posted in their blog, in which Bruce Leroy was glowing.

Golden Goose was awful this year. I mean, not all of the acts were awful, but they were not an entire Friday night worth of good, either. This thing went from 8 to 11 or so, and they could've squeezed the three redeeming aspects of the show into probably 40 minutes: Drake, who hosted it; C.S., whose video was this hilarious infomercial about the cement block as the latest and greatest in workout equipment and whose stage performance was a Blok class turned Disney musical; and Jordan, who painted himself blue and got some blue friends to help him impersonate the Blue Man Group. They had the white piping and everything. It was effing brilliant.

As for the other ten contestants, many of their videos were actually about being in Golden Goose, which is pretty dumb, and most of the performances were dance numbers of various degrees of failure. Which means some of them didn't fail that badly, but neither did they stand out from the crowd as creative or original. Honestly, I would've left and taken Boyfriend with me if I hadn't promised my editor I'd review the show for the Tartan.

And now I don't know what to write, because I don't want to be hated by everyone on campus for saying it was garbage, but there aren't a lot of good things I can say about the experience. I guess I'll try and write it like a news piece rather than a review, thus keeping it as objective as possible.

On the bright side, a bunch of us went out to Denny's after. I hadn't eaten dinner, so it was a fabulous way to top off a not-so-fabulous night.

I've been asking people if they've ever dreamed they had more than five fingers on each hand. You see, back when I was trying to teach myself to have lucid dreams, I read up on controlling your dreams and the first step is to determine you're dreaming. So you do a reality check. I never remember to do them in dreams, but the idea is that if you do them enough in real life, the habit will translate to your dreams. So there are checks like flipping a light switch to see if it has an effect, checking a clock periodically to see whether the time jumps around, checking a mirror to see if you're what's reflected or if it's just shadows, and, of course, checking to see that you've got five fingers on each hand. I always thought this one was bull. I don't pay that close attention to my hands in dreams, but I really don't think I've ever had more than five fingers per hand. Well recently, I remembered to check, and as I watched, a sixth finger grew out of the side of each hand. It was... a very enlightening experience.