Sunday, January 30, 2011

Never Again

The Concept:
Quit my job
Sell all of my worldly possessions
Move out of my home
Pack up a Toyota Corolla
Drive for 3 days
Follow through on a half-thought-out plan made 4 months prior
Live in insane conditions
Pray to the All Mighty Troll that I find a job
Walk around panicked faced for 3 months (maybe 4)
Be Ridiculously Happy

The Reality:
Read above…

It’s only been 5 months and I’m already calm and settled. I have a life, a home, a routine, friends, I’m getting the hang of my job and the city, and my roommate is moving in this weekend. I call that a success.

But it was SOOOOOO hard! I’m a little tired. I may need some therapy.
I’ll never do it again
Who am I kidding? I WILL do it again... I am already scheming when I can quit my job and begin another daring adventure

... but in time...

Right now I'm exhausted from my last daring adventure
Oh, and I’m Ridiculously Happy

Saturday, January 29, 2011

My Mom is a Saint

You would be blessed to know her.
My mom has not had an easy life. Her health has been a constant struggle for her to conquer. At times it has beaten her. Drug her emotionally through the muck of despair and depression. It has taken away opportunities and, at times, placed her desires out of her reach. She lives in a prison of her own body, destined to succumb to limitations of her physical capabilities. A healthy person cannot begin to understand the despondency that comes from a life that is beyond your control.
But she is unstoppable.
The courage she has created within her is unmatched. Every day she wakes up knowing that she will be tired from the simplest tasks yet she pushes through. She faces her fears (and she has many) determined to be victorious.

It is easy for the fearless to have courage in a difficult situation; that’s why they are fearless. But when the cowardly lion steps up and face his fears head on, he is channeling so much more courage to be brave. This is my mom.
Her bravery leaves me in awe. She is so powerful. I have learned many valuable lessons from her.

She taught me to be courageous and strong. She taught me to stick up for myself and what I want. She taught me that no one is better than me. She taught me that I am not better than anyone else. She keeps me humble. She makes me better.
My mother is amazing and I am so proud of her for all that she does.
It doesn’t matter what her financial situation is, if someone she loves needs food, she will feed them. It doesn’t matter what her health situation is, if someone needs her help, she will help them. And she knows that a trip to see her daughter will leave her physically ill for weeks afterwards, yet she will still hop in her car or a plane to visit.

I think her heart is powered by a battery because it is so full of love and concern for others that it cannot possibly bear the strain of beating on its own.
I look up to my mom the same way I did as a child that views her mother as the center of the universe. I am so proud of the journey she is on. I am so proud of the woman she is. I’m so proud of the woman she is trying to become.
She is my hero

Friday, January 28, 2011

Random Shit #3

I hate smoking.

I think it’s foul and unnecessary.
(Sorry Dad, it’ll kill you. Stop it.)

But I guess if you’re going to do it, be ballsy and ironic about it
(I have a special place in my heart for irony)

I met a girl whose doctor told her she had smoking induced asthma.
I’ll let the picture speak for itself...

Thursday, January 27, 2011

You Gotta Do What You Gotta Do

That's what I always say...
And what do I gotta do?

I gotta take impromptu road trip to Canada just because I can.

Did you know Niagara Falls is only a 7 hour drive from New York City? And that a rental car from JFK is only $40 a day? And that when I get together with Saggy all of my nonsensical ideas come to fruition?

I am full of nonsensical ideas… I have one coming to me right now... I’ll hitch hike to Florida, then get on a boat going to Cuba and go dancing in Havana for the weekend.

These kinds of things come to me all the time and most people talk me out of them. I’m sure these people are well intentioned (and have probably saved my life) but when I am with Saggy she says, “yes” to all of my ideas.

So when I said (at 1:00 in the morning) "let's rent a car and drive to Canada."

She said, "I have my passport in my purse"Here is a list of things we may or may not have done this weekend. I threw in plenty of fiction with the fact…

Got really drunk, sang karaoke, booked a rental car, had sex with a stranger, drove to Canada on a whim, went skinny dipping in Niagara Falls, pierced something, gambled, hung out with a stripper, got a ticket for driving without a license, frolicked, ate a lot of grapes, and hula hooped on my roof.

In case you're worried, there is WAY more fiction than fact on that list…

Stay tuned for the adventure that comes the day that I catch a midnight train headed anywhere...


You gotta do what you gotta do

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Running with the Finish Line in Sight

I'm going to attempt to make a sloppy analogy, please bear with me…

I am a runner. I love a good race and everything involved in the process. I love getting up early, tying my shoes, using the Port-O-Johns, running miles and miles, then finally finishing and collapsing in a heap of noodlesk muscles…

...And getting massaged by cute physical therapists (note: if the race doesn’t offer free massages by hot men, well I’ll still do it, but I’m not as thrilled)
While racing there is an exhilarating sense of purpose; an anticipation for what is yet to come. Will I make it up that hill? Will I get tired and want to stop? Will the pain in my side ever stop? Can I make it to the end? How many calories am I burning? Will there be free watermelon and Gatorade left by the time I finish?

So as I push through the pain, suck down another gooey packet of strawberry flavored boogers, and pass a runner on the road, I am looking towards the finish line and the rewards awaiting me.
Rewards: Finishers metal, sense of accomplishment, Gatorade and oranges, applause, family and friends waiting for me (Ideally… one day someone will be waiting to greet me at the end), stronger muscles, massage, and of course, a giant cheeseburger (a necessity to finishing any race). Once started, a race is finished by thinking about the rewards to come.There is nothing at the beginning of the race that allures a person to finish. I don’t stand at the starting line thinking, “man this starting line is REALLY making me want to run for 13 miles.” “I MUST run away from this starting line.” “I have a need to put as much distance between myself and the beginning as possible.” Nope, the starting line is NOT why a person runs a race.
Now for my sloppy analogy…

I have been accused on a few occasions of “running from Utah” as if I had to get away from something. Let’s be clear, there is nothing I could “run” from that wouldn’t follow me.

New York was my finish line and I crossed it with pride and accomplishment. This was a loooooooong way to run if there weren’t going to be serious rewards at the finish line.
“Everyone who finishes a marathon is a winner” you know why that is?

Because it’s hard. Running is VERY hard. You do it for the benefits at the finish line, not because you have to get away from the starting line.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Random Shit #2

Ummmmmm, I have great teeth.

Try to deny it.

You can't.

I think teeth are the most pivotal feature towards creating all around attractiveness. They are hands down my favorite feature on the opposite sex. Give me a man with big white teeth and I’m one happy woman (for oh, so many reasons)

If eyes are the nipples of the face, teeth are definitely the biceps of the mouth.

So needless to say I keep my teeth in tip top shape.
Six month checkups, On. The. Dot!
Floss (almost) daily.
Brush, 2 (or more) times a day.
Mouthwash, sure but now I’ just getting fancy.
Never had braces, don’t need them.
Crest White strips, believe it.

I love going to the dentist. He sings my praises to the heavens. I even know the special techniques you are supposed to use when brushing. It’s all in the wrist people. I think the dentist is my biggest fan.

*unlike that ass of an eye doctor… If I want to wear my contacts for 3 weeks straight I will and I’d thank you to stop lecturing me about it… I had to get lasik just so that I wouldn’t have to see him anymore. But I digress*

Where was I? oh yes, my dentist thinks I’m so amazing he always asks to take pictures of my teeth. I think he uses them to show others what they can achieve if only they try hard enough.

On one such occasion I was amazed and delighted to see my celebrity teeth photo soon after getting a nose ring.

Yes, I do have some cavities thank you for pointing that out jerk. They were all from the same summer and I have never had any since. Stupid 16 year old Savannah

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Cabin Feeeeeeeeever

I’ve been teasing everyone about the video of my cabin fever explosion for a while now.

Here you go.

When I feel cooped up, I like to run.

And by 8pm, I like to brush my teeth

video

Friday, January 21, 2011

Random Shit #1

This is officially going to be a segment… Random Shit…
I run into the MOST bewildering and mind boggling things. Things that make me scratch my head in wonderment (and because of the bed bugs)
And would you believe, I just so happen to be the type of person that knows Murphy himself and helped him write most of his laws.

As a matter of fact, Murphy's second, and less notorious, law is “Anything that can be strange or bizarre, will be strange and bizarre to those who seek nonsensical adventures to make a good story and have a good laugh”
Here is my first installment.
Random Shit #1

One day whilst riding to the 5th floor, in what was already a sketchy building, the elevator doors parted and this is the awful sight I beheld.

I don’t care who you are, this will make your heart stop beating. In that fraction of a second I made a game plan...


1) Take a picture so I can blog about it if I ever get out… Done.
2) Check the ceiling for an exit route… None.
3) Designate a corner for the bathroom…Too late, my pants will suffice.
4) Masturbate... (don’t judge, watch the youtube video)
5) Panic... On my way
6) Locate the “help” button… Broken.
7) Check food supply in my purse… Cough drops and gum… damn
8) Find pen and paper to write out my will... I only own debt... Leaving it to my enemies
9) Scream at the top of my lungs… Wait, doors are closing… elevator moving…

That was a very intense 45 seconds, it’s a good thing I didn’t overreact.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Spillin' the Bag O' Beans

Since moving here everyone seems to have high romantic hopes for me. Every time I talk to someone and we have the "catch-up-on-what's-happening-in-our-lives" conversation, they always find a way to mention how hot it would be if I dated a NYC cop.
"Oh, wouldn't it be cool to date an NYPD?"

This statement doesn't even make sense grammatically, yet I've heard it more than once. Unless they ARE actually saying I'm a huge slut and wouldn't it be cool for me to date a whole New York Police Department. If this is their intention on the subject, I respect their judgment on my character.

Regardless, one random make-out sessions with an off duty police officer does not a date make

I'd like to introduce you to my new boyfriend...


The fine print: I neither made out with his man nor is he my boyfriend... Just in case I actually needed to clarify.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

My Voyeuristic Ways

The other day I was waiting for the train and I couldn't stop staring at this beautiful girl.

First of all, she was gorgeous and I can appreciate that, but she just looked so happy. She was listening to her music and completely in a world of her own as she continuously smiled about nothing in particular. I felt like I was interrupting a very private moment, but I couldn’t look away.

The more I looked at her, the more signs I saw of the heightened state of happiness she was in. At this particular moment I was feeling exceptionally happy and showing these same signs so maybe I was projecting but I don’t think so.

She would smile, then stop, then smile again like she was trying to gain control of her happiness but couldn’t. Her face would flush on and off and she was breathing heavily. I could also see her swaying ever so slightly on her feet.

I thought she might be having a VERY personal moment, but the subway station was particularly gross at this stop so this had to be residual.

It made me wonder why she was so happy. Had she just left someone she was very much in love with? Maybe someone she was very much in lust with? Had she just received great news? Was she on her way somewhere that left her in anxious anticipation?

It made me wonder when was the last time I smiled for no reason, heart beat fast, flushing, swaying slightly on my feet.

Oh, just today actually…

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Si, Se Puede!!!

Here’s a great idea; stand in the same spot in the cold, crowded street for 10 hours waiting for something as unremarkable as the movement of time, for some obscure countdown, marking the end of a contrived moment.

Sign me up!!

The countdown about a half an hour after we arrived.
The Times Square adventure is not for the weak. You must be stealthy, strong, push through a crown like a baby being born, hold your bladder until you explode, ferocious, easily amused, and be able to survive on food you can carry in your pocket.
At one point it was so crowded Celestie decided that if she lifted her feet she would not move from her current height.
On another occasion we were so hungry that we decided to venture to McDonald’s. I stayed behind to save our “spot” and the other two braved the crowd. It was only by the grace of the All Mighty Troll that we found each other again. The throng of people was so thick that although they made it to me in one piece, the bag did not and we were only left with one Big Mac… Which we proceeded to share out of desperation. So picture it if you will (you will if I say you will) the street is so packed we can’t move enough even to lower our hands into our pockets, three of us are eating ONE hamburger, and somewhere on the streets of New York are some chicken nuggets.

About 4 hours in is when the ailments started showing signs; Lara in her feet, and Celesite and I in our lower backs. We began to grow increasingly more creative on how to alleviate the strain. The “bend over stretch” was improved upon only by the “bend over stretch while being rested on”. One can also sit and avoid the filthy ground by sitting on the shoes of another. A giant train can, in fact, be made allowing everyone to sit down (note: the poor soul at the back of the train must still stand. Sucker)
Half. Way. There.
Sooooooooooo excited. (pratially delirious)

To pass the time we did all of the following:
Dance in the street, sang along to Backstreet Boys and New Kids On The Block on 3 different occasions, played "The Office Trivia" (that's right, we brought the cards along with us. Boy Scout Motto: Always be prepared) took WAY too many pictures, gave back massages, opened starbursts using only our mouths, got a little annoyed of each other, made up, got VERY annoyed at other people, counted down the new year in other countries and stood very, very still.


We never thought we'd make it this far. Maybe we should just go home and call it a night.
If anyone has seen the video of me on my road trip, I tend to go crazy when confined to one spot. I think I’ll post that video (Spoiler, it ends in a wicked hood slid) So as the clock counted down, I grew increasingly insane. We were SOOOOO lucky that the new year started at midnight, there is no way I would have lasted any longer than that.
Can you believe we made it?
Thank you Celestie for being Johnny on the spot with the camara. Why is it that there is an exorbitant amount of men on this planet that have no concept of good kissing. I mean seriously. Women of the world deserve to be kissed by someone who knows what they are doing. At any point in this young man’s life someone should have put a stop to his sloppy Joe, tongue blunder and said, “Hey, you’re awful at this, let me show you what you need to do” I hardly felt it was my place.
But thank you random stranger for helping me to keep the tradition alive.


Si, Se Puede!!!!