While cleaning through my junk today I found: A pair of cowboy boots with a pair of dice, a silver bracelet, and one knitting needle inside the left foot. I found a small statue of the Virgin Mary with a small penis drawn on it. I found a stack of french fashion magazines (I don’t speak French. I have never spoken French.) I found stuff from Lollapalooza 2008. I found a pillbox hat I’d really been meaning to wear… in the eighth grade. I found my burned copies of “The Clockmaker”, “Casper”, and my VHS recording of “Charles Manson Superstar”. I also found my MxPx cd featuring this song that I was sure someone who loved me would discover and put on a mix because obviously, it is about me. NO ONE DISCOVERED IT so now I have to BLOG ABOUT IT. I used to go to the Borders in Northway Mall and just listen to the 30 second snippets of the songs because I never had enough money to actually buy it. Then I did and I realized MxPx kind of sucks. “Its so lonely in these farmlands, please come with me/ To the bright lights downtown Marie, Marie.” Its kind of funny.
I have once again found myself at a weird crossroads and my waking life just feels like I am trying to parallel park my car without air conditioning in a spot that is too small. I just keep hitting the curb, over and over, but I’m determined to slide in there. Reverse, reverse, reverse. Everyone knows a woman can’t reverse a car!!! I’m mostly kidding. About the feeling, not the part about women being incapable of reversing, everyone knows that is the HONEST TO GOD TRUTH. Parallel parking is a sweaty ordeal, but lets be real: everything makes me sweat.
I spent the week roasting my medium-sized body like some sort of prized meat in a concoction of lotions and oils and I am now a soft, golden, inedible brown. In that time I mostly forgot about the fact that I am enrolled in a university that has classes that begin one week from now… Classes that will be taught in a language I haven’t spoken in months and probably don’t even remember how to speak. One week from now I’ll be living in a defunct bed & breakfast smack dab in the middle of christian town, usa with some people I don’t know. I’ve heard my room is long/oddly shaped so all I’m taking with me is a small bed and probably some headphones and also my small, feeble mind. During the span of my last semester in America I had things like oreos, a constant supply of marijuana, and the promise of boners on the weekends to help me pass the time. Then I lived in Europe and was afforded an abundance of wine and chocolate at my immediate disposal. Rioja out the wazoo. Now what am I supposed to do, call MYSELF on the phone? Knit? READ? I heard I’ll be living near a Little Caesar’s Pizza, which means $5 hot’n’ready’s, and ALSO a Taco Bell, which means soft taco supremes, which negates the workout equipment my future roommates have equipped our “home” with. I thought about just getting really ripped and mean during my final undergrad semester, but what for? One look into my own eyes and it becomes obvious it is more of a “bitch, please” than a “go for it!” being reflected.
Whatever, you know as well as I do, I’ll still be the righteous P.O.S. I’ve always been at any size (S, M, L, XL, XXL). Don’t mind me. I’ll just be here (and by here I mean there), sucking the life out of you & yours from my satellite.