ticker tape parade.

I'm going to preface this story by saying that I meant to post this in November right after this happened. Better late than never.

The Yankees won on Wednesday as we all know now. George and I decided we weren't going to miss the once in a lifetime chance that we'd both be near the city to go to the Ticker Tape Parade. So as any matching-savvy, team spirited girl would do, I immediately went out and purchased a new Rodriguez jersey tee and silver nail polish so as to coordinate my outfit for the parade.

I left for the parade from New Haven at eight on Friday morning... and never got back to New Haven until eight on Saturday night.

so, i'm in albany. haha. uh i'm hoping this shows up on your crackberry because my phone is dead, who knows why since i purposely charged it thursday when i went to bed so i wouldnt end up somewhere without a phone. yet, here i am with this guy i met twenty four hours ago on the subway, i have to pee and to be honest neither of us got anything last night which sucks. i don't have a toothbrush, change of clothes, toiletries, legit nothing. i snuck into his house with him last night because he just moved back home and neither one of us wanted his mother to find me here. so that makes things worse because I CAN'T USE THE BATHROOM right now. hmm... what else. i spent yesterday legitimately being fought over by two dudes who are best friends that i just met. i saw george for a total of three hours? i don't even know cause i was so drunk. oh and the icing on the cake is that there's no train to new haven from albany so i have to spend fifty bucks to get back into the city and then take a train home from there. all of this on no sleep, no food and no ass. please please PLEASE email me back sweet god.

ps. once we got off the train in poughkepsie last night, i had to sit through an hour and a half between the two who were gunning for me which would have been awkward/sweet enough on its own if they hadn't made up a new game they call "this car smells like..." I added leprechaun taint which went over really well. by the way this is going to be the MOST epic train of shame home. this totally beats the mini van ride home from bridgeport two years ago. and i just read this all out loud with his mom in the next room to him, and the train of shame comment has i'm quite certain reminded him why we hit it off in the first place. in his defence, at least he doesn't kiss like high school.

That my friends, is the best story I'll ever be able to tell.

Weekly Wrap-Up

You know your life is boring when your dreams are more often about your favorite character on Lost than the real people in your life. It's not as if I randomly started fantasizing about Jack Shephard without some prompt (and by that I mean I've been watching episodes nightly before bed) but still. Considering the amount of times I get hit on by guys always in the most random situations and never by who I want, you'd think I would have given up by now on fictional characters. Alas, I'd rather discuss the characteristics that make the character Jack the kind of man I hope to marry some day with my best friend rather than waste my time with men in the real world.

I spent this week working at Odyssey, subbing actually for a position with a student who has a behavioral problem. From the moment I walked into the 9th grade classroom to my last hour with my student yesterday I was caught in this retrospective sense of awe. Why do all the boys now wear Timberland's with their jeans (I admit I like this one)? When did real backpacks get replaced by those string ones ? Why do 14-year-old girls go tanning every other day? How come freshman in high school know what beer pong is?

I suppose that if I went back and watched myself when I was that age I would see that I had a vague knowledge of the same things, and that I talked to my friends about them with the same empty facade of knowing what it meant to sleep with someone or get too drunk. I remember asking my mom if I could go tanning for the two weeks before Junior Prom, which was really just an excuse to go so I could feel like I fit in more with my new friends. Now when I watch as these children walk by me in the halls, I wonder why they think it's okay to grow up so fast. More importantly, who's letting them?

Most of the boys in the freshman class at Odyssey are considerably taller than me, and I'm no shrimp. If I'm the average height for most grown women, what the hell is in the water that's making these 8th grade boys so much taller then me?! I've noticed that these kids don't care, and at this school it's not cool to care. There are more students concerned with who "Biffie's bopping" than getting into college. Is that new or something? It's funny the way five years can play tricks on your memory.

I feel old there. Is that new too?

Today

That's my cop-out title when I can't think of something clever. My blog has undergone a few massive changes, the most major of which was the transition between class assignment and personal rant page. My original intention was to give myself a creative outlet, keep myself writing and somehow manage to learn to be funnier in print so I'm going to try to stick to that. Just for the context - I am a 22-year-old college graduate who recently moved home from New Haven, CT back to Upstate New York.

I currently reside in my mother's house, with my macbook and snuggie in tow. Yes, I own a snuggie. My father thought that was a genius Christmas gift this year. I think it was mostly because he knew the look on my face after opening a box containing a salmon-pink sleeved and backless blanket would be sure to make him laugh through the new year. I was right. I'm also convinced that these things are flammable, and my dead great grandmother is laughing at me right now for wearing a blanket that resembles her old house coat entirely too much.

So I did what I swore I'd never do. I moved home, and for the stability of a job no less. I've always been a restless spirit which people find ironic because I've always laughed at that quote

Not all those who wander are lost,

because of course we're lost, that's what makes us restless. In any case, I would describe myself as more of a runner, and not in the literal sense. I'm talking there's a major life problem, you better believe all you're going to see is the back of me high-tailing it in the opposite direction.

In the last few months I've discovered the off switch to what I affectionately call my "neon sign". That's code for the "eff off" vibe I regularly put out to all men and most women too. I like the friends and family I have [for the most part] and spend a lot of my time thinking I can barely trust those people so why waste my time trying to let new people in? The neon sign references will be frequent, cause that bad boy has been flickering a lot lately and it's making for some good stories.

That wrap up doesn't really cover much of what I haven't written about in the past few months, but I'm going to set a goal to try and write at least once a week. Hopefully between the job in Special Education, my general compass for trouble and lack of grace will lead into some good stories.