Archive for the ‘Life Sucks’ Category


Traveling Troubles: Part Two

July 7, 2008


My last post was getting a little too lengthy, so I decided to split it up. Anyway, here goes part two:

After only three days back in Boston and still exhausted, I dragged myself out of bed at 4AM on Thursday morning to catch a train back to my parent’s house in Delaware. Aside from having to have my cab driver drop me by an ATM when I realized he didn’t take credit cards, my trip was uneventful. I never even had to share my seat, which on Amtrak trains, is quite an accomplishment. 

My mom, along with her parents (the grandparents I had seen in New York), picked me up from the station and thus began my family loaded day. While still suffering from a travel hangover, I had to get myself through dinner with my mom’s parents, my dad’s  parents (who drove in for dinner), and my own parents. It was great to see my whole family, don’t get me wrong. I love my family. It is just a lot to take when you are alone with that many adult family members. Luckily, the conversation rarely turned to me and questioning my life, although it did come up. (I learned that in order to get married, I need to treat finding a husband like a job, which I obviously am not doing. No wonder I’m alone! What wonderful insight…/end sarcasm)

The next day, all the family headed home and were quickly replaced by my parents’ friends, who all happened to be coming through town at once. In the morning, my dad’s best friend from Alabama stopped by, as he was passing through for work (I think…). It was nice to hear what his kids were up to, as I spent a lot of time with them during our five year stint in the South.

Later that night, my parents’ college (in my dad’s case) slash childhood (in my mom’s case) friends, who actually introduced my parents to each other, came to stay for the night. I’d met them before, but the last time was at least 6 year ago. (Both then and now, I feel like I should thank them for my existence or something.) This was the first time, however, I’d heard some of their college stories while still in college. It was the first time I really saw how similar my dad and John are and how they could have been great friends in college, could have even been people I would have been friends with in college. It was the first time I really got to hear stories from back then and appreciate them. It was kind of weird but also kind of nice to think of my parents as people I would like even if they weren’t my parents.

The next day, we headed to Fabric Row in Philadelphia to go to a famous deli for lunch. I ate so much I felt nauseous, and again, we had an excellent time just talking and eating something called “Health Salad.” (“Do you think it’s made of health?”) Sadly, I think we cancelled out the benefits of the health salad with the eight cookies we bought on the way out. The day ended with my mom and I shopping and then coming home to watch “Michael Clayton,” (stopping every five minutes, of course, to explain what we knew and what we had yet to find out to my mom, who responded that she thinks she “lacks the mental capacity to watch movies.”) 

Sunday came way too fast, and the last place I wanted to go was the train station. I had finally resigned myself to leaving as we walked in the doors only to find my train was delayed an hour and a half. Blerg. 

Again, overwhelmed by not wanting to leave home, where I felt relaxed and happy to go back to my messy apartment where I usually feel agitated and alone, I started to cry. Lately, I feel as if I’m always on the brink of breaking down for no particular reason and when something pushes me just the tiniest bit, I crack and become a blubbering mess. Again, my parents assured me it wasn’t a big deal, which, of course, it wasn’t.

To turn the situation around, we took the opportunity to walk down the Riverwalk to a restaurant so I could eat, as I wouldn’t be getting back to Boston anytime soon. I calmed down as we ate, and my mom kept checking the status of my train. After being told it was still an hour and fifteen minutes behind, we walked back to the station, thinking we had time to spare.

When I walked in the station with my mom, we looked at the board, and my heart dropped. It seemed to say that my train was boarding right now, only an hour after it had been supposed to get in. I didn’t understand but also didn’t seem to have time to think about it. I ran up the escalator with my bags and jumped on the train just as the doors closed, thanking God I hadn’t missed it. I found a seat, briefly wondering if I had gotten on the right train, as the boards are mildly confusing about what is going on. I was reassured, however, when they announced the next stop as Philadelphia, which is always the stop after mine on the regional train. On the phone with my mom, she urged me to ask what train I was on, as the board had changed right after I ran up to the track, leading her to believe maybe it was not my train that was boarding. I blew her off, saying I was going the right way, so I wasn’t worried. 

As I settled in, we pulled in and then out of Philadelphia. As we pulled away the conductor came on the intercom stating the train number. It wasn’t mine. Of course.

Again, the tears came. Why couldn’t I just get through one simple task without making myself feel like a complete idiot? I texted my mom telling her she was right. The conductor came by, asking for tickets, and I explained to him what had happened. He didn’t seem to think it was that big of a deal, telling me to just switch at the next stop as my train was behind this one by about 25 minutes, advice also given by my parents, who conceded that I wasn’t crazy: the board did make it seem like it had been my train that was boarding. 

I got off in Trenton and wandered around looking for where MY train would be coming. After asking and being given the track number by an obviously annoyed Amtrak employee, I waited on the platform, staring at the pouring rain, wondering if God too was crying about my stupidity and bad traveling luck. 

Eventually, my train came and took me back to Boston, granted a few hours later than I had anticipated. 

Now, I’m back to the grind, somehow more tired than before any of these vacations and more wary of traveling than ever.


Traveling Troubles

July 7, 2008


I didn’t intend to spent my last moments in both New York City and Wilmington in tears, standing before some sort of transportation device. In fact, I intended to leave happy and refreshed. That was the whole point of getting away. The Universe, again, had different plans for me, and you know how well those plans usually play out. 

Let’s start with New York. When I last left you, I was on my way to the Big Apple, happily typing away thanks to the free Wi-Fi on Bolt Bus. Sadly, that bused turned out to be 2 hours late, an early warning of what was to come. I enjoyed a mildly stress-free weekend, meeting up with my camp friend, Lindsey, and my school roomie, Jillian, all while staying with my sister. We had some nice meals (I finally fulfilled my rib craving at Wild Wood on Park Ave. that I’d had since watching hours upon hours of “Thrill of the Grill” week on Food Network) and hit up some fun bars (I recommend Beauty Bar in the East Village: $5 drinks AND Eighties music? Sold!). My annoyance (and my later problems) began to arise, however, when my sister, Stephanie, decided to spend the night in Brooklyn instead of meeting Lindsey, Jillian, and I out on the town. Thus, I was left with her keys for the night. 

Sunday morning, I said good-bye to Lindsey and met Stephanie and my grand-parents (in town for a conference) for brunch with some acquaintances of theirs who are involved in theater. (The woman is actually now an anchor on The Onion News Network!) The brunch was nice, as I love chatting with theater people. I made a great contact, and they assured Stephanie and I that our money spent buying tickets to the matinee of “Sunday in the Park with George” was well spent. 

After brunch we headed out to see said production of “Sunday in the Park,” which, as it turns out, was the LAST performance of the show! I’d sung some of the songs before, but I’d never seen the whole show (apart from various scenes from the original with Bernadette Peters that aired on PBS), so I went in with an open mind, and I was not disappointed. I wish I could compel people to go see it, but obviously I can’t. It was one of the most unique productions I have ever seen: The whole show revolves around the French painter Georges Seurat painting “A Sunday afternoon on the island of La Grande Jatte,” and as he sketched on stage, his drawings and painting came alive behind him (using some new projection technology), creating both the painting and the setting of the show. It was, to say the least, magical. The performances were moving, and unexpectedly funny. Jenna Russell was amazing, and both she and Daniel Evans choked up during the final song, causing me and I’m sure the whole audience to choke up and then stand for the last five minutes of the show. The applause during the curtain call was deafening. It again made me realize how much I love theater.

But I digress…(I had to take a break from the flow of the story because the play was just that good.) when we left the theater, it was raining, causing Stephanie and I to scramble first to find a cab and then to give up and jump on the subway. (At this point I was done with subways, as Stephanie lives so far north, each time we returned to her apartment was an hour and fifteen minutes on the subway. Not. Fun.) I had to grab my bags from my grandparents and run to my bus. I, luckily,got there with time to spare, so Stephanie and my grandma said good-bye. As I stood waiting to board, flustered from the rush and feeling done with public transportation from all the subway riding, I noticed some people talking with a Bolt Bus employee about how their tickets had the wrong date on them, and they were thus having difficulty boarding the bus. It appeard to be some technical glitch with the Bolt Bus website. As I heard this, I glanced down at my ticket, just to be sure. Of course, my ticket too ahd the wrong date: the date I had come to New York not the date I was leaving. My heart dropped. I did not feel like dealing with what would happen if I missed this bus. I started to think that I would just book a ticket to my parent’s house, because this constant stress of crap happening to me was becoming too much to handle. I eased my way over to the group of angry patrons, hoping they had made enough headway that I could get on without problem. Things seemed to be heading in that direction, and then, my phone rang. 

I still had Stephanie’s keys. Not only her apartment keys so that she coudln’t get home, but her work keys, whose disappearance would cause her more than a little grief the next day. According to both my sister and my mom, I couldn’t get on the bus. At this point, I was more than annoyed. I had already been upset that Stephanie had basially abandoned me (and not for the first time) the night before, leaving me to get myself and Lindsey back to her apartment without her, but now I had to miss my bus, which I was already shaken up about the possibility of missing, to wait around for her to come get her keys.

On the phone with my mom trying to figure out how I was going to get home, as the group of disgruntled Bolt Bus riders boarded the bus, I started to cry. From exhaustion. From annoyance. From being overwhelmed at standing on a busy sidewalk of New York with a bright pink suitcase yelling at my mom that it wasn’t my fault Stephanie forgot to get her keys from me. The Bolt Bus woman came over to ask if I was getting on the  bus, and as I turned to her, face covered in tears, she must have thought I was getting news of a family member’s death. Her face changed, and she left me alone, feeling like an idiot. A crying idiot.I wasn’t worried that I wouldn’t get back, so much. I am just a person who doesn’t take a change of plans well. Added on top of everything else, this felt like a big deal. 

I dragged my bags four  blocks to Penn Station to buy a train ticket, where I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t getting into Boston until midnight and scarfed down some greasy pizza, waiting for Stephanie. When she got there, I tried not to take my anger out on her, as I greatly appreciated her waiting with me for the next hour for my train to come. I finally got on the train, calmed myself down, and fell asleep. Sadly, the train got in an hour and a half late, making it 2AM before I went to bed, allowing me only 5 hours of sleep before getting up for class at 7AM. Awesome. 

Trip number one: done. Status: much more tired than before. 

Up next: Train trips 2 and 3.


That Time I Wanted to Kill Myself, but Killed Bugs Instead

June 27, 2008


This week was, by all accounts, pretty terrible. All I had to do was get through this week to get to the oasis that would be New York City with my sister, Jillian, and Lindsey. I wanted nothing big. Nothing stressful. Just the end of my class and some packing. The universe, apparently, wanted something else.

After being in a finicky, annoying mood on Tuesday for a number of reasons (living in filth, lots of reading, lack of quality television), I woke up Wednesday wanting to just be positive. Positive, positive, positive. I was going to get up early to go running before my class. (I’ve been making good progress on my way to running a 5K before the end of July.) I had my notes out to study for my final at 5:30. I had my gym class at 12. The day would go well. It had to go well. Then the day actually happened.

I got up and got ready to go running. I was planning on going to the gym early to run, and then study in the comfy gym chairs before my class. After getting ready, I decided to just stay at home (as not avoid dragging all my reading to the gym) to study and just run right before my class. I went into the kitchen, happy with my new plan, to make myself some breakfast and when I opened the garbage to throw out a wrapper, a swarm of gnats flew into my face! It was horrifying and disgusting. (If you know me at all, you know I am freakishly clean. A swarm of gnats it not only gross, it is unacceptable.) I had known that my roommates had left out some food that had attracted some unwanted grossness (and that I had refused to clean, because it wasn’t mine, and I’m five-years old), but I hadn’t know it had gotten this bad. I hid in my room and called my mom, almost in tears out of annoyance at everything messing up my attempt at positivity, at the fact that I was going to have to deal with the effects of everyone else’s messiness, at the fact that I’m the only one who cleans or who cares, at the two weeks (nay a month!) of things just being crappy. She calmed me down, and I decided to go to the gym to run and go to class, then just pick up some bug spray on the way home. (I had to kill the bugs before I could even shower since they had taken over the bathroom *shudder* I have problems cleaning in myself in a room that is, itself, vile.) 

I then walked twenty minutes to the gym, finally calming myself from the disgustingness of my living situation, when I looked into my wallet to find I didn’t have my school ID on me. Damn it. Since the BU gym nazi’s won’t let you into the gym without one, I now had to walk ALL the way back home to get it, thus taking up my running and study time. This is when I started getting pissed. I figured I might as well get bug spray now, so I picked some up, headed home, and started murdering bugs with a fiery rage. Not pretty. I even scared myself…and inhaled way too many bug spray fumes. 

I took my second walk to the gym with the satisfaction of knowing I had taken out a small army of gnats, but I was still pissed about missing my running time. I got through my (oddly painful) gym class and went home to study in my apartment that now smelled like my great-grandmother’s house, thanks to the bug spray. (Note to self: buy febreeze)

I, kind of sadly, couldn’t bring myself to shower in the still mildly bug infested bathroom, so I became as smelly as my apartment as I studied for the rest of the afternoon, trying to concentrate and not stew in annoyance. Five finally came and I headed out to take my final. I finished pretty quickly (first in my class), and when I went to hand in my paper, a girl I’ve talked to all session looked at me and exclaimed, “You’re done! God, I wish I was you.” 

If she only knew.

I left feeling alright about the test, but wanting nothing more than to finally get the run in I’d been waiting for all day. I popped on my iPod and headed toward the Esplanade (my favorite Boston running spot.) I plowed through the first half, feeling better than I had on my previous runs until I started feeling not so great about my knee. Five minutes later I could barely run, then barely walk, then I was limping down Park Street hoping I’d make it to my apartment. Wonderful. Why wouldn’t my day day need to be capped off by a debilitating knee injury? Thanks universe. 

Thankfully, last night I had a relaxing last night with Lynn, who leaves for home while I’m in NYC, eating out at my favorite restaurant, Picco in the South End, then going to the Lowes Theater to see “Get Smart.” (Funny, but not life changing, but how you can not love Steve Carrell?) My knee still killed as I walked up and down stairs, but today I’m feeling mildly better about it (and hoping to be able to run next week. All that progress can’t go to waste!)

Now I’m on the Bold Bus (Yay free WiFi!) FINALLY heading to NYC to visit some of my favorite people. A hopefully uplifting, upbeat post to follow this one AND THEN the great big 20-something bloggers’ blog swap post. Have a good weekend!


Loving and Hating…but mostly hating.

June 23, 2008


Loving: My Saturday night spent out on the town with my uncle. We started at an art opening, where I got to drink free alcohol (delicious Pinot Grigio) that wasn’t in red or plastic (or both) cup and rename art work with one of my favorite family members. Uncle D then took me to Rocca in the South End for a delicious and painfully filling Italian meal. Class level for the weekend: a perfect 10. 

Hating: My apartment. It’s dirty. There are bugs. There are dishes in the sink that I refuse to clean (hint: because they aren’t MINE!), plus, while I LOVE LOVE LOVE my roommate, it’s so hard to share a room with after sophomore year in college. 

Loving: That I’m heading to NYC on Friday. It’s seriously all that is getting me through my week. 

Hating: That I am having trouble saving up money to spend on myself in NYC because I am forced to buy trash bags, toilet paper, aluminum foil, and other random essentials for our apartment that no one else will buy. Plus paying all those stupid bills. Damn you, Comcast!

Loving: My political science class. It’s nice to be in a regular class again, especially one that is actually interesting. If anyone has any questions about the black/white achievement gap, the lack of women in science and engineering, bilingual education, or teacher pay, I’m your girl. 

Hating: The girl who chooses to sit directly in front of me in my Political Science class, despite the fact that there are only EIGHT people in the class, and thus ample numbers of seats that are not directly in front of me. Plus, she seems to not understand the concept of a start time to class, as she comes in EVERY DAY around 6 or 6:15, feigning embarrassment, despite the fact that class starts at 5:30. This shouldn’t bother me that much, but on top of everything else, it makes me want to punch her in the face. 

Loving: That they are making Rock Band for Wii.

Hating: That I cannot afford a Wii OR a rock band for the Wii. Or a Wii Fit, which looks totally awesome too. 

That last one is completely random, but really…they HAD to make Rock Band for Wii? Because I didn’t already want to spend all my nonexistent money buying a Wii and a Wii fit? 

Sorry to be such a downer lately. I’m just in that place where every little thing is driving me crazy to the point where I will punch anyone in the face who even looks at me on the T. For real. 

Deep breathes…ok….so NYC in four days. Visit to my parent’s in 10. I can last til then, right? Right. 

Oh, and in my annoyance, I’m hoping I didn’t start some kind of internet fight here. Oops.


Summer Goals

May 31, 2008


I need to stop sitting around, doing nothing and feeling useless. I need to set myself some summer goals. Even if they sound ridiculous, I think they will help me get mildly focused on accomplishing something. Here goes: 

1) Visit Emerson and NYU to get information about Theater Education programs. 

2) Begin application process to Emerson and NYU (if everything looks good upon visiting.)

3) Build up to running a 5K by August (in hopes of maybe running 10K by October for Tufts 10K)

4) Give a good audition for Kaplan (the SAT etc. prep company where I applied for a teaching/tutoring job. You have to audition before you can interview, so I’m only going for the immediate goal first, then I’ll set some kind of goal from there.) 

5) Leave the apartment everyday (this sounds silly, but lately, this hasn’t been happening every day. Yes, I realize how sad this sounds.) 

6) Get some interesting stories and BLOG MORE! (My lack of blogging is stemming solely from my lack of anything interesting to say. This needs to change, pronto.)

7) Start studying for the GRE’s. (This just goes with #2, I suppose.) 

Hrmm, that’s about all I can think of for now. I am excited about a few things coming up. I’m FINALLY seeing Sex and the City tonight, which feels like an event years in the making. (I, sadly, couldn’t plan ahead far enough to get tickets for last night. Wah wah….) I have the Boston Bloggah’s happy hour coming up, AND my trip to NYC to visit Lindsey, Jillian, and my sister, Stephanie, coming at the end of June. If I can just focus on not sucking for a little while, things will start moving faster and getting better. I’m learning I don’t do well with drastic transitions, in terms of my free time. Last semester, my schedule was ridiculously packed and planned. Now I can’t motivate myself to do anything that isn’t required. Hopefully, I’ll just starting thinking of all these goals as requirements, and I’ll get them done. Here’s hoping…


Feeling Unimportant

May 25, 2008


Yesterady I found out that a kid who was in my COM 101 class freshman year is showing a film at Cannes. WHAT!? Now, I know this is the time of life when you start seeing all the things people your age are accomplishing and start feeling insignificant and unimportant, but this is the first time it has happened to me personally, making is exponentially more important and upsetting than any other instance that may have happened to others. 

Today I didn’t leave my bedroom. Really. I’ve moved from my bed to my computer desk and…oh wait, I did make a pit stop in my kitchen to grab snacks once an hour. How wonderfully world changing. I’m currently contemplating whether I’d rather spend my summer being a barista at Starbucks or a hostess at P.F. Changs. This kid, who I was not a fan of in my class again making this instance all the more annoying, is screening his class project for the French Film Elite! Now, I don’t particularly want to show a film at Cannes or even direct a film. I was just already feeling mildly useless and lazy, and this isn’t helping. 

You know what also isn’t helping (on a completely unrelated but just as upsetting and annoying note)? My dad’s new blackberry, which he keeps emailing me from. And facebook messaging me from. And calling me from. And sending me pictures of him holding it from. Bah. I think I would feel instantly more useful as a human being if I had a Blackberry Curve. Who is with me?


Free Time or Money?

May 25, 2008


This weekend, on paper, has been extremely fun and eventful. Patrick and Jillian came into town for one last LA-like hurrah before I am alone for the summer. We had our eagerly awaited South End Bar Crawl, beginning with Patrick and my favorite restaurant, Picco. Picco, of course, stands for Pizza and Ice Cream, Co. The name alone makes you want to eat there forever. Deliciousness. Anyway, we then crawled to Sister Sorrel and Union in the South End before coming back to South Campus and ending our night at the train wreck of a bar that is An Tua Nua. If you are ever in Boston and feel like taking your class level down about 10 points, I suggest a trip there. I was disturbed. A plus of the night was becoming friends with Patrick and Jillian’s two friends, Amanda and Val, who I can hopefully hang out with the rest of the summer. I need friends in Boston like woah.

Saturday, Jillian, Val and I did a small walking tour of Boston, ending, of course, on Newbury for lunch. Jillian and I later had a nice dinner party with our friend Megan and her boyfriend. She was in Ireland this past semester while we were in LA, so we had many stories to exchange while eating delicious vegetable lasagna and brownies. Mmm…

Despite all the fun I’ve had this weekend, I have WAY too much going on in the back of my mind. I found out I’m definitely not going to be getting enough hours out of my current work-study job, which is sad because I really enjoy it. This means I either have to deal with having a good amount (Read: probably way too much) free time, which I would use to basically sit in my bed watching Food Network, and not enough money. Thus, I have been feeling I need to get a second job. All the on-campus jobs are office jobs, which I am good at but which I don’t enjoy so  much. They would, however, give me weekends off. I’ve also been looking into restaurant jobs, where I may make some fun summer friends and get to stand for a while in a slightly more exciting environment, but where I may have to give up my weekends – weekends I had planned to use for multiple trips to NYC to visit my sister and Jillian OR I could just deal with not making a lot of money and just force myself to work out and read a lot so I feel productive. But, let’s be honest, as long as Everyday Italian remains, I really know that won’t happen. It’s a tough call, especially since I don’t quite know how bogged down I am going to get with reading for my PolySci class. Maybe I won’t have any free time. Bah! I hate decisions.

On top of all that loveliness, I’ve been dealing with my schedule being royally screwed up for the fall, freaking out about my financial aid, and deciding if I should be studying for the GRE’s if I am really serious about applying to grad school. Aaaannnndddd I’m hyperventilating. Remember when summer was all fun and sunshine. Camp and playing outside with nothing to worry about? When did that stop? Oh yeah…this year. Man, I miss camp.