Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Music: Dimmer - Super Mario Bros. Underworld Rock
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God bless Netflix.

I was just wondering what I was going to do with this afternoon while I was doing my chores, when I got up to the bringing in the mail portion, I saw the happy little red envelopes. This Is Spinal Tap, Yojimbo, and 12 Angry Men. All waiting just for me. This is heaven. Now I have something to watch while I'm cleaning my room (even *I* have to admit the room's a bit too messy)!

I'm about twenty minutes in to Spinal Tap and I'm loving it. This is totally the precursor to the Christopher Guest films that I love so much. Bunch of the same cast, same feel...it wins. I think I'll pick up my own copy next time I get to a movie store.

In other news, less than a week until we road trip it up to Toronto to see Reel Big Fish! I've seen so few concerts that I'm totally psyched to see one of my favorite bands in a big city. It's gonna be great.

Okay. Being distracted by a poorly accented Michael McKean. Also cookies.

I'll end by just saying how happy I am that Matty's back for a visit! Even if I did get run over by Kyra on her way to greet him when he first appeared at Ruby Tuesday's ;) Heheh. Just kidding. It's great. It's all great. I'll get back to work now.

::transmission ended::
This transmission logged byErisSaid on 4:25 PM

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

Music: Daft Punk - Face to Face
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How to make a Cynical Pink

Ingredients: 5 parts mercy 5 parts humour 5 parts joy

Method: Layer ingredientes in a shot glass. Serve with a slice of caring and a pinch of salt. Yum!

Username:

Personality cocktail
From Go-Quiz.com

::transmission ended::

This transmission logged byErisSaid on 1:50 PM

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Sunday, June 13, 2004

Music: Eels - I need some sleep
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I just wish I could give up sometimes. No matter how hard I try, something's always wrong. I need to face it: I am never going to make my mom happy.

She just never shuts up. I have two more employment applications waiting for me to fill out, but I'm having reservations about applying for any more jobs. During the week...life is paradise. It's so quiet. So peaceful. Just me and the dog and no one screaming or complaining. The hours between when I wake up and 6 pm Monday through Thursday feel like life should be. No cringing in my room with passive agressive daydreams of punching my mother in the face.

I used to be able to deal with this. Right up until I went to college, I could handle her temper tantrums. Her victim complex. Now that I know that normal people do *not* live like this, I can't deal with it.

She getting angrier with me now that I talk back. She seems to take everything I do as a challenge. I take everything she does as a complaint. Neither idea is fair, but this is what happens after twenty years of this.

She comes in to my room as soon as she gets home to complain about something I either did or didn't do. Apparantly I should have been copying her phone book in to her cell phone for her like I said I'd do. When I responded that I couldn't have done that because she had taken her cell phone with her to work, she launched in to her "I wake up every day at 4:00..." speach. I could honest to God recite this rant from memory. When I did, she didn't think it was very funny.

But the straw that broke the camel's back was on Wednesday. I woke up at ten and let the dog out. She had peed her blanket again, so I put it in the laundry. I folded blankets and brought towels upstairs. After a bath I cleaned the tub and fixed up the basement. About halfway through the day, I went out with Shawn and A to see Shrek 2, knowing full well I was going to have to clean up some form of Sandy mess when I got home. When Sandy threw up, I cleaned the rug without complaint and emptied the dish washer. When the morning blankets were washed and dried, I put a load of regular laundry on and brought it upstairs to be ironed later on.

At 6:00 I was putting the last of the clothes in the ironing closet and was on my way back downstairs when I heard a full on shreik of cursing from my newly arrived mother. Sandy had wet her sheet again. This is the simplest task of the day, and yet it was cause for her to strain her vocal chords and cry about her own misfortune. She sobbed for half an hour about how unappreciated she was and how much she wanted to put the dog to sleep. The next half hour was a monologue of misery in which she detailed the many ways in which she is a "prisoner in her own home" all because of the dog.

This was too much. I had been blowdrying my hair to try and cover up her screams, but it wasn't working. My hair was a complete mess and I must have looked like I was going to kill someone. Mom was in the kitchen slamming cabinets for no apparant reason. When she saw me in the doorway, she opened her mouth to say something, but I didn't let her, for once.

My plan had been to give her a different topic to think of, like maybe an opportunity to complain about her customers at work. What came out, however, was "Will you calm the fuck down already?" I didn't launch in to a tirade about all the things I'd done that day so that she wouldn't have to. I didn't talk about how tight my schedule was because of dog concerns. I merely pointed out that she was shreiking like a crazy old witch and needed to get a reality check so she'd see that not everything in life was calculated to piss her off.

I grabbed a Snapple and walked back upstairs without a word. We didn't see eachother until the next day when we acted like nothing had happened.

She's doing it again. Acting like everything is done just to ruin her life. When she wanted to know why the washing machine was running, I told her it was because I put on some laundry. No response of "Oh okay" or "Oh good." She looked at me like I was some kind of hideous monster and walked away.

About half an hour ago, while I was still writing this, she walked in and asked me why I still don't have a job. I wanted to tell her the truth, but didn't feel like making her feel like even more of a victim.

I'll still keep helping around the house. It's a good thing to do and I'm not doing anything else. I'm just not sure how much I'll be going out of my way to talk to my mother anymore. I don't even want to look at her today.

Can't it just be Monday now?

::transmission ended::

This transmission logged byErisSaid on 4:42 PM

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Tuesday, June 08, 2004

Music: Miles Davis - Jeru
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Woo hoo! I'm gonna go to Canada for a Reel Big Fish concert! updating (<~~~~~~ Jason interlude) And Matty's also coming home soon, and that's fantastic. I really can't wait. Maybe we'll go down to the shore during that time. He's supposed to be here for two weeks, so even if it falls during the Canada trip we are watching the jury(the jizzury) (<~~~~~~~~~Yet another Jason interlude) we'll still be able to see him.

As Jason said, we are, in fact, watching The Jury. This is a show I can scream at on a weekly basis. I think I'll make a repeat trip to this show. Speaking of my law drama fixation, I have discovered the joys of money and purchased Season One of Law and Order SVU. I can't wait for my job to start so I can get MORE money so I can buy more stuff. Can't wait. Right now I'm still hoarding money for the Canada thing. So a bit of miserdom for me until the end of the month.

I've been trying to write this entry for the last three hours but this is all I have. I give up.

::transmission ended::

This transmission logged byErisSaid on 9:23 PM

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Tuesday, June 01, 2004

Music: Elvis Presley vs. JXL - A Little Less Conversation (remix)
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Had the Family-That's-Not over yesterday for the cookout. Continued to argue with my Dad that Orzo salad, Tuna steaks, and lemon marinated chicken are not traditional BBQ fare. He refuses to admit it, but I know I have the moral high ground on this one :)

Quick flashback to Sunday and the BBQ at Aunt Jill's. I want to tell the story of "Uncle Louie's Clams."

So Uncle Louie shows up to Aunt Jill's with this huge bag of one hundred clams. When asked what the hell he was going to do with them, Uncle Louie declared that he was going to cook them himself. Enter the wary looks. Uncle Louie's cooking is pretty hit or miss, and the idea of 50/50 shellfish was unnerving. Uncle Frank and my dad just looked at eachother and followed him in to the house. Knowing that hilairity was about to ensue, I went too.

In the kitchen, I watched as Uncle Louie was pushed further and further from the stove by the two cooks. I'm tellin' you, it was hysterical. It was better entertainment than probably half the reality TV shows on right now. And then Uncle Frank and Dad started arguing about what to put in! Dad wanted more garlic, Uncle Frank wanted to use stronger wine...Uncle Louie started to say something, but Uncle Frank cut him off. (Don't feel too bad for Uncle Louie, though. He was laughing harder than any of the spectators). The clams soon went in to the liquid and when Dad caught Uncle Frank trying to add more wine, he turned away from the cilantro he'd been cutting to chew him out. My dad gesticulating with a serrated knife while scolding a bottle waving Uncle Frank...I hope that mental image never fades...

Once they'd come to terms with eachother, the clams were done and ready for the table. As one of the specatators brought the bowl out, I head Uncle Frank say. "Well, Louie, I hope those clams are a hit, because if they're not...it's your fault." And none of us laughed harder than Uncle Louie who had done nothing more than wash about a quarter of the clams. Thankfully, they were a big hit, so the Three Chefs were very proud.

But on to a quick note about yesterday's cookout (I'm not calling it a BBQ). Marie's John came! I was glad he decided to. I was worried he'd be too nervous, but he did great. Everyone loved him. My mom especially :P

To close this entry, I would like to point out that I am really fuckin' smart. Don't think me egotisitcal! Everyone needs a self-esteem moment every now and again. It's just that I was writing out a resume kind of thing detailing my education for this Tutoring Club in town that I want to apply to. As I was writing this stuff out, I realized that I've done some pretty amazing stuff: Dean's list at Bucknell, 5 on the European History AP test, getting by in all these super-difficult classes in college...I must be smart!

So, ummm...go, Me? I guess?

::transmission ended::

This transmission logged byErisSaid on 4:50 PM

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