Back to Real Life

Where have I been?

I have spent the last week in a mystical place called Ocean City, Maryland. This is a place unlike any other in the world. It is populated by a fascinating population of unique creatures known as White Trash. It is a beautiful place. Only in OC MD can you walk down Coastal Highway (the main street that happens to be a 4 lane highway) and get not one cat call, not two cat calls, but a grand total of 15 cat calls. There are Shoobie sightings to be had every day. It is not uncommon, indeed it is actually legal, to ride in the bed of a pickup truck. It is the chosen mode of transport for the White Trash. Males mainly ride up and down Coastal Highway all day, some even have convenient signs with slogans such as "Fuck me, Baby!" in case their throats are coarse from yelling.

That is Ocean City on any given day all summer. But last week was special. It was SENIOR WEEK. Most high schools have some form of senior week. I have no idea if it is anything like my experience. But here is my experience:

Rent a house at the beach for a week. 17 girls, no parents.
140 streets in Ocean City. Crammed into the many houses ad high rise buildings are the other graduating seniors in all the high school in the Towson area, actually in all of Maryland. The town is overrun with graduates. And alcohol.

I'm not exactly sure what is normal for high school seniors to be drinking but I doubt it is as much alcohol as was cosumed last week on Senior Week. 8 straight nights. Pre-game then party. Sleep off the hangover on the beach. I won't go into specifics but I am pretty sure the amount of contraband consumed was enough to classify most of us as alcoholics.

But it was one week. One week of guilt-free, rule-free, parent-free partying. There was much throwing up (not by me because I know my relative limits). There were many random hookups. There were many police citations. There were many drunken fist fights. There were several bad experiences involving Oxy-Codone. There was also a bad experience involving a cactus. There were numerous rides on the Drunk Bus. There were games of drunken put-put. There wre awkward run-ins. There was a hell of a shitload of sunburn. There were mysterious, high rappers. There were crabs of both kinds. There were more drunken texts than possible to count. And, more than anything else, there was DRAMA. All in seven days.

It was a week to remember...if only we could actually remember.

I won't go into specifics. Looking back there were fun parts (walking up to a random party on 84th street and finding out that the random house just happened to be my cousins'), there were meaningful parts (watching the sunrise on the beach with my best friends while talking about everything that meant the most to us), there were funny parts (Liz singing Christian rock songs while drunk and walking down Coastal Highway), there were normal parts (every day spent on the beach just chilling with friends), there were annoying parts (belligerent drunks), there were sad parts (friendships ending), and there were bad parts (worrying about a friend of a friend almost dying on our bathroom floor). But put it all together and I wouldn't change a thing. I wouldn't even change hooking up with Nick. I'll take it all and still wish I had it to do over again.


Reading: Dreams from My Father by Barack Obama
Reading this on the beach is fun. It's an amazing book and I'm not just saying that because I am a supporter of Barack Obama. It is just a great story and is very well-written.

Listening: CNN on in the background
I really need to get back into my real life, which includes following the news obessively.

Snuggling (Cute and Creepy and Confusing): the abridge version

The cutest little baby in the world is asleep in the other room right now. I am at work, taking care of precious Isabelle. She is only 8 weeks old an has the biggest blue eyes you will ever see. I think I am in love with this child and I am getting paid to snuggle with her all day (oh and also change her poopy diapers and listen to he wails when she is upset, which is often because the poor thing has acid reflux and it makes her fussy. I think it's true what they say about the reason for babies to be cute, because otherwise we would not put up with them).

Working as a nanny for a newborn baby this summer also has another effect - it is the greatest birth control in the world. Seriously. I do not want a baby. After this experience, I will never be casual about birth control. Not that it's something I would take casually but now I'm just more motivated to ensure with 100% guarantee that I will not get pregnant for many, many years.

[Insert non-awkward segue here to BOYS because I need to rant.]

We are going to talk about Snuggling. Take from that what you will. Actually, we're not really going to talk about Snuggling. Unless you use it as a metaphor. Sure, let's use it as a metaphor but read on at your own risk because this next part will all sound extremely creepy and very confusing. Snuggling wasn't the best choice of metaphor but I think it's only fitting that the metaphor be creepy because the situation is infuriating and I'm really only saying that because I don't feel like coming up with another metaphor and I already typed the whole creepy thing up.

What do you do when the guy you want to Snuggle with is best friends with your older brother and will not Snuggle with you because of said older brother?

Then, what do you do when your older brother's other best friend, and also close friend to Non-Snuggler No. 1, has no problem trying to Snuggle with you? In fact this Overly-Snuggly Guy is constantly trying to Snuggle with you.

And Overly-Snuggly Guy just happens to be the guy you liked for two years before finally moving on with your life just in time for him to decide he finally likes you.

And part of you still does want to Snuggle with Overly-Snuggly Guy because he's funny and nice and a great guy.

But really you want to Snuggle with Non-Snuggler No. 1.

But Non-Snuggler No. 1 has watched as Overly-Snuggly Guy be blatantly all over me [awkward switch to 1st person] at parties and it's not like I was pushing him away all that forcefully.

But now Non-Snuggler No. 1 probably thinks I like Overly-Snuggly Guy and not him and will further not Snuggle with me.

Really I shouldn't be Snuggling with either Non-Snuggler No. 1 or Overly-Snuggly Guy because my older brother would get upset.

And I'm halfway decided to just hook up with Overly-Snuggly Guy already.

Except I really like Non-Snuggler No. 1.


Fuck, I have such a head ache. I only got three hours of sleep the past two nights because of Boys and Alcohol, that deadly combination I hate so dearly. Why do Boys and Alcohol make everything so fucking confusing? If Senior Week wasn't next week I totally would. Speaking of which, Senior Week is next week!! Since Non-Snuggler No. 1 and Overly-Snuggly Guy won't be at the beach for the whole week I'll have time off from their mind games.

EDIT: And how did everything turn out? With me hurt and back to as if nothing ever happened. That's what a summer will get you.




Reading: Collected Stories of Gabriel Garcia Marquez
LOVE him.

Listening: Music from Baby's mobile. The same incessant song over and over and over again, which is just driving me even more insane.

She Is Alive

I have not written at all in several days. And I mean at all. Normally, I write in this blog, my nightly journal, and almost every day I write at least a few paragraphs of something else. But right now I'm in a writing rut. Mainly because I am living my life. And, yes, it doesn't feel quite the same to be skipping out on my daily writing but I am really enjoying myself.

Right now I am sitting on the Big Purple Couch with my brother and my friend Ryan. They are playing guitar and we have just been talking on and off about shit. Earlier six of my other friends came over to just hang out for no reason except to sit around with each other. Today was also my first day of work. It is going to be a long summer. The baby I am watching, Isabelle, is very fussy and spends most of the day crying.

Let's see. A lot has been going on in my life. I graduated. White Dance was just about the most fun I ever had in high school. But of course afterwards I learned, just as I always do, that when I mix boys and alcohol I always end up confused. Yes, boys are stupid but I'm stupid too. I'll admit it.

I love this feeling right now. Sitting here, listening to music, talking, my whole summer spread out before me. Next week is Senior Week, which will no doubt be the craziest week of the summer. Crazy in many, many ways. I am staying in a beachfront house with 17 of my friends from school. A house full of 18 girls? Basically it will be just straight drama. Already one girl has dropped out, another girl has messed up sleeping arrangements. There's tension between drinkers and non-drinkers. I've spent much of the past few days on the phone talking about Senior Week drama and it hasn't even begun yet. But I love it.

I have a theory. Well, it's not so much a theory as a proven fact. Girls like drama. I know we all say that we hate it . I have always been the first person to say that I hate drama. But now I realize that's a lie. I can't help it. Just yesterday, I heard a rumor about a friend. But I didn't just talk to that particular friend. I felt the need to call up two girls to get their perspective. And it's not like I'm consciously thinking I want to gossip. I just think to myself, "I wonder what Samantha thinks. This affects her, too."
And, don't get me wrong, I don't spread nasty rumors. The example I was talking about just now involved a friend of ours who dropped out of our Senior Week house because she had problems with drinking. That is obviously something she should be talking to us about. It is something that affects everyone in the house. I wasn't just calling Samantha to talk about how bitchy So-and-So is, isn't she such a slut? I don't do that.


Hmm....I've gotten off on a tangent. But I like that because when I'm writing I like to get off topic and just ramble around in my mind for a while.
Now, as I have been doing for the past week, I am off to just enjoy tonight. Yes, I have to work tomorrow at 9 AM but I'm not tired and I want to sit here for hours doing nothing with good music and good people.

Reading: The Wasteland - T. S. Eliot
A poem, but I found the book of Eliot poems in my bedroom when cleaning (I am currently in the middle of a massive purge) and I just had to stop and read it. I love T. S. Eliot...yeah, I'm a poetry nerd.

Listening: Johnny and Ryan strumming on the guitar