Monday, April 18, 2011

everything's coming up milhouse!

When I last blogged, I...don't remember what I was talking about, but that doesn't matter now because I got myself a summer internship! The first one I interviewed for, actually. It's at the Maryland Attorney General's office, specifically the People's Insurance Counsel division. I am SO excited. I realize it doesn't sound particularly exciting but from what I learned in my interview, it should be really interesting. The people also seemed very nice, and the cool part is that I get to have a sweet security badge to let me in the office! I don't know why, but that is the most exciting part to me. I got the letter on Friday offering me the position, and I pretty much immediately called them back to accept. I thought about it, and I decided not to wait and see if the other internship I interviewed for would offer me a position. I don't like to gamble, and I didn't want this position to go away while I waited to hear from the other one. I'm just happy to finally have a summer plan in place.

I also recently got some good grades on assignments in school, so that is contributing to my general feeling of well-being. Same goes for the pleasant weather we've been having (except for the few exceedingly rainy days over the weekend. That, I can do without). However nice the weather is, though, it is wreaking havoc on my sinuses. You see, I never, ever had allergies before I moved to Maryland. However, right around spring time every year, I start to sneeze, snort and sniffle every damn day. I woke up today with my right ear totally plugged from the congestion and spent the better half of my first class totally unable to hear out of it (luckily my left ear compensated. I may be blind as a bat without my glasses but I practically have supersonic hearing) until it finally popped. I've got to get myself some Zyrtec because it seriously helped me last year but WOW it is so pricey! Allergy meds, on a whole, are super expensive and that's why I generally end up suffering until my dear mother buys me a bottle of Claritin or something.

Deedly dee. I'm bored with commercial law but I have nothing of substance to blog about, so I'll leave this with a picture of some cute cute shoes I bought at DSW a few weeks ago. They are just about bursting out of the box and begging me to wear them, but I don't want to wear them until school is over for whatever reason. They are summer shoes.

Cute shoes, picture won't copy for whatever reason.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Tina Fey, quit spying on me.

For the past couple of years, I've been watching and enjoying 30 Rock, and I've come to a conclusion. Tina Fey has been spying on me for years to get material for her Liz Lemon character. Allow me to elaborate.

Liz Lemon is an awkward dancer. I also dance awkwardly:











Liz Lemon enjoys comfortable loungewear and eating cheese in the nighttime. I also enjoy comfortable loungewear and eating cheese any time of day:












Liz Lemon is constantly worried about the balance to be struck between her career and her relationships, as well as the possibility of having a child and having to make that delicate balance work. This, secretly, is one of my big worries. 



Liz Lemon wears plaid shirts, cardigans, black framed glasses and jeans. If you know me in real life, you realize that this is basically my uniform:






Like looking in a god damn mirror.

Also like Ms. Lemon, I apply Sims situations to my everyday life:









So this is my plea to Tina Fey. I can see you sneaking around behind me and hiding under my desk, so just quit it, lady. Can you trademark a lifestyle? If so, I've got some sweet-ass royalties coming my way. PBR for everyone! On ME!

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

in which i crave organization.

Our apartment is fairly neat and organized. However, there are a lot of aspects of it that could be a LOT better, namely, the closets. Basically, Zach and I have a lot of clothes, and stuff. Shoes, random boxes of things, books that don't fit on our bookshelves, et cetera. Everything is just kind of shoved in both our closets with abandon and frankly, I am dead sick of it. That's why I have created a summer goal for myself; to get both closets (and, possibly, our kitchen cabinets) totally organized and get rid of a lot of clothes and other stuff. I actually do get rid of a pretty sizable garbage bag of clothes every year, which I normally donate to Goodwill or the Salvation Army or something similar, but this year I really want to get rid of more than just clothes, to organize and streamline our closets, and basically make this apartment more livable.

In order to effectuate this goal, I've been salivating over the Container Store website for the past few hours. That website is basically porn for organization freaks like me. I want shoe storage, spice racks, cupboard organizers and tons of other stuff. I realize I won't be able to afford most of it, but really, my main thing is shoe storage. My shoes (I only have about 16 pairs) are currently stored in..ugh..a big Rubbermaid tote. All on top of each other haphazardly. I HATE IT. I have to dig through it every day to find the match to a shoe that I already have in my hand, and the whole thing just is gross and ugly. Basically, what I want to get are THESE, a couple of them, and stack them on the inside of my front hall closet. That's really the only thing I feel I really need, although I could probably manage to rack up a substantial bill from that store if I wanted to.

I've come to realize that I lead a pretty boring life. I'm basically a fifty year old housewife at heart, what with all my baking, cooking, cleaning and organizing. I tend to get all annoyed when I don't get invited out when my friends all go out and it does sting, but it probably is for the best in the long run since I either (a) wouldn't go anyway or (b) would go, but would silently wish that I was home, drinking tea and watching a movie with Zach. This doesn't mean that I don't like to go out and drink with friends, I just was never much of a party girl. You might think that I don't want to go out because I have a boyfriend that I live with, and while I do love spending time at home with Zach, I felt this way long before I met him. I went out a LOT in college before I met him, but the nights I think were the most fun were when my roommates and I (before they turned into insufferable bitches) watched a movie or drank wine and walked around campus. I don't know, I know I'm sounding super boring and staid here, and don't get me wrong, I love to go out, but I guess I understand why I'm not the first person most people think of when they want to organize a night out. My reputation for being boring precedes me, so I shouldn't get upset when I am an afterthought, or not a thought at all.

I wish my hair could grow long. I've always been envious of women with very long hair. For some reason, at a certain point my hair stops looking nice long and starts looking ratty and gross. I suppose I could remedy this by actually getting regular trims, but who has the cash for that? Not the girl who wants to spend fifty bucks on shoe storage.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

scar tissue

The skin below my fingernail on my right hand's index finger (before the first joint) is 100% scar tissue. I can poke it and scratch at it all I want and I barely feel a thing. This is because when I was a foolish freshman at Canisius, I attempted to use one of those home-wax kits where you microwave the little pot of wax and spread it on your eyebrows with a wooden stick. I popped the tub in the microwave, somehow microwaved it to the point where the wax was boiling, and pulled it out of the microwave with such abandon that a glob of molten wax sloshed out and landed square on my fingertip. I ran screaming down the hall to our floor's community bathroom and immediately began running ice cold water on my finger, but it was too late. The wax came off, as did half of the skin on my finger. I kept it wrapped in gauze for several days and then finally it seemed healed, but not to the normal skin that existed there before. The skin was seemingly numb to the touch and still is, five years later. I got to thinking about this incident the other day while perusing Henry Rollins quotes (because who doesn't need more Henry Rollins in their life?),

"Scar tissue is stronger than regular tissue. Realize the strength, move on".

To an extent, I agree because empirically, the skin on my finger is stronger than the skin on my other finger tips. It doesn't hurt when I poke it with my other fingernails and is rougher. However, it would be horrible if my entire body had the same type of skin. I wouldn't be able to feel anything, let alone anything good or enjoyable. What I'm trying to get at (and making a terrible metaphor) is that I think some amount of scar tissue, whether it be real or metaphorical, can be a good thing if you've been hurt badly. It can shield your skin or your feelings from being hurt again. However, too much scar tissue can block out good feelings as well, and I think that you have to feel the pain in order to appreciate the good.

That being said, I had a great time at Barrister's Ball, and I have to laugh at my melodramatic pronunciations that I would be simply sitting in the corner drinking red wine and sadly observing the crowd. I've always had a flair for the dramatics. It's why I've deleted my old livejournal, because some of the stuff in there is genuinely embarrassing to read.


I think this blog is about to become a lot more pleasant. 

Friday, April 8, 2011

law school prom is tomorrow.

First of all, I have to thank Kiah for her comment on my last crazy ass blog post. It really made me feel a lot better, and less alone. That being said, wow, that last post was crazed. I mean, I definitely had (and have) those feelings, but I probably shouldn't have unleashed them on the internet for all the world to see. Oh well, what's done is done.

This Friday night finds your blog-posting-with-semi-regularity-girl watching episodes of Intervention in bed while eating pringles and drinking diet root beer. My goodness, you say, don't you lead an exciting lifestyle! Why yes, I reply, it's truly a thrilling day in the life of yours truly. But seriously folks, I can't say I'd rather be outside when the weather is horrifying and my bed is so comfortable. Tomorrow is law school prom (Barrister's Ball) and although during the weeks leading up to it I have been excited, I've been overcome by an overwhelming feeling of apathy toward the whole charade. I am going, though, if only because I spent a fair amount of cash on the tickets, my dress, shoes, et cetera. It's open beer and wine bar, so if anything, I'll be able to drink away my ennui.

I rather like that phrase, drinking away my ennui. This will probably make me sound like an alcoholic, but I would say that drinking away ennui is probably what I do on most weekends. It's not that I don't enjoy my life, I do, but sometimes I just feel incredibly out of place and like I don't belong anywhere except alone in my apartment with Zach and Winston.

I had another interview on Thursday for a summer clerk position at a firm downtown. I think it went pretty well, so like the other one, it's now just a waiting game to see what happens. I'm not going to get my heart set on either one just in case I get rejected, which could very well happen.

I want to skate again. I figure skated competitively from when I was little until I graduated from high school, and I miss it terribly. The problem is, it is not exactly a cheap sport you can just do casually.

I'm going to end this blog post with a Henry Rollins quote:

“Life is full of choices, if you have the guts to go for it. That's why I get immediately bored with anyone's complaining about how boring their life is, or how bad their town is. Fucking leave and go somewhere else. Or don't.”

Monday, April 4, 2011

susan and her body image have issues.

I want to lose 15-20 pounds and it makes me feel like a total douchebag. What I mean is, the fact that I'm not happy with my size (which is relatively small) right now makes me feel like a douche because I know so many people have serious weight-related issues. However, the fact of the matter is that I have gained an undisclosed amount of weight since I was 18 (once again, I am a douche for not realizing that it is unrealistic to want to have the same body you had in high school), and I want it OFF. I'm used to being skinny, all my life people called me skinny. According to my mom, my body is making it difficult for me to lose weight because the stupid thing has become convinced that now is the time for me to be bearing children and it must hold on to extra weight in order to further that goal. Attention body, and reproductive organs : I do not want a child at this point in my life. I take a pill every day to make sure that very thing does not happen. I would appreciate it if you would stop hanging on to every ounce of fat that I ingest in hopes that I will magically become pregnant.

It should become clear to my three blog readers at this point that I have major, MAJOR self esteem issues. I can count on one hand the number of times in my life when I have felt pretty. I have always, always felt like the "ugly friend" in pretty much every friendship situation I've been in. Once again, douche, looks don't equal self worth and I should be proud of myself for x y and z accomplishments, but it's so fucking hard even when I have a wonderful boyfriend who tells me I look beautiful all the time.

Here's the problem. I love food. I love to cook, I love to eat. I do try to cook healthily most of the time, but sometimes I just want a goddamn cheeseburger, all right? I exercise fairly regularly and I try to eat a lot of fruits and vegetables, but that stubborn goddamn weight refuses to come off. I realize I sound crazy and angry, but that's probably because I am. Zach loses weight if he eats healthy for one freaking day, and I can't seem to take any of it off no matter what.

Ugh, I sound whiny and horrible. I'm going to post this anyway, though. This is probably the most serious and introspective blog post I've ever written and it's a bit scary to post it.