MMMMM Train Delays

I spend more than half of my life riding trains to and from where I gotta go. It's sickening when you think about it. Most of the time no one gets it unless you're a New Yorker. And that puzzles me; New Yorkers don't seem to mind the mindless travels to and fro. It can be so tedious, and hardly anyone wants to own a car nowadays because this concrete jungle simply doesn't accommodate them. I pay too much for riding a piece of shit steel box that rarely seems rider friendly when we're going 60mph on a very bumpy course. None the less, I do it. And to be quite honest I guess I wouldn't have it any other way..cars=pollution and I guess I'm being green.

What Roles Do Father's Actually Play? It's Just A Title Anyway..

Jerk, provider, stranger, lover, abuser, loser. A "father" can be any of those things. You only get that title if you've knocked someone up or inherited someone's bastards. In my opinion anyway..I'm sure there's a god stricken woman out there that would try and prove me wrong. I say this because my father is non-existent. He might have had part in conceiving me but he is by no means what a "father" should be. The loving, caring, male figure that so many people speak so highly of. Quite frankly I don't even think it exists. Maybe at some point, somewhere in the world but definitely not here and not in my life. He's more of a friend, one that you can discard very easily. The one's you think have your back but don't when you really need them. He's cool when he wants to be and he is a lot but there's no attachment to him. Nothing connecting us besides dry humor, and the same last name. He is a man, unfamiliar to comforting a child's grief. He knows no nurturing other than the kind he provides to the full head of hair he is so greatly proud of. A man of 50 years old, I do love you. However, it's not like the love I have for my mother. It's different. A lesser love perhaps, one that doesn't involve pain or tears if he were to die. Providing my emotions kick in, it would be more of a "what a shame" love. I thank him though, for his music influence, for introducing me to the Rolling Stones as a young girl and for naming me Angie. For not being around and being exactly who he was, because it helped me become the person I am today.

I Don't Have Much In My Life But Take It, It's Yours

These autumn leaves seems to be everlasting. They pick on me as they twirl through the wind, whistling this years trials, how I haven't had many triumphs. I want to be feel sane, to be admired. I want to wake up on certain mornings full of effervescence. Morrissey said it the best, but is it too much to ask for?

My Moods Last Three Minutes and Twenty-Two Seconds

I enjoy music that moves me. There's nothing better in life in my opinion than being able to feel whilst you breathe to your favorite tunes. Especially since I have this problem with expressing my feelings altogether. Part of me just gives up on it because I feel as if no one will understand anyways. The rest of me just doesn't feel. Normal things that would make most sad or happy has no effect on me at all, and I dislike it. I envy people and their emotions. I want to be able to feel and express, to get over certain fervor with a good sob. Out of anything else in my life, I find that The Smiths have moved me in a way that's so natural. Morrissey's voice like butter when he utters those words and those thoughts, on certain nights they make me or break me. It fills me with pain and emotion and for those couple of minutes I feel alive. Just to have a couple tears fall from my face is a high all in itself. Being music-less is just another day. Day after day of meaningless trials, not even being present with the living.

Conspiracy Weekend Part Deuce

I work too hard during the day so I usually hang really hard at night. Along my way home, I spend countless hours waiting for the train to come and take me to my bed just to wake up in an hour and repeat the whole process again. Anyways, lately I've been noticing MTA workers scrubbing down the subways-FROM TOP TO BOTTOM. Something you rarely see, if you're a New Yorker that is. We pay all this money because of fare hikes and constantly see nothing. And now for SOME reason they want to clear all the debris out of the tracks and scrub down the floors and seats and nasty turn stiles. They don't even clean the insides of the trains that well. The question still stands: Why now? Me being paranoid(and this paranoia has only occurred recently..idk why) and over analyzing everything I've just concluded that it's just a cover up. They're hiding something much bigger than any of us strap hangers know about. A sickness maybe. It would explain why the workers scrub so ferociously and use those pressurized steam torches. It's so typical for "higher powers" to keep us in the dark. Its' okay though, I'm on to them. Sooner or later one of my crazy ass theories is bound to be unveiled. hah.

Friday The 13th Thirteen Dollah Flash @ HOG

The offer was too good and what better day than the 13th?! Couldn't pass it up so mmhm. Had to fix a fix.

Conspiracy Weekend Part I

A certain feeling hasn't been sitting right with me at all. This queasy, gut dwelling feeling that the apartment I'm about to rent is a complete hoax. So here's the scoop: For a while now me and my home girl have been talking about renting out a place together. I've had my own place before, she has not. It was hard for us, as I knew it would be because she just started out fresh with everything bank acct, job etc. After looking at apt after apt, we came across this apt that is absolutely close to perfection. 8 blocks from me now and everyone knows I don't wanna leave Parkslope Brooklyn. It's magical here and that's that. We saw it, we liked it, we got a good offer on rent (1280 for 2 Bedrooms, everything included). I put money down and they ran the credit checks and to be honest, I didn't think we were gunna get it because although I have good credit, as I mentioned before my mamita has no credit. We get a call, WOO! I got approved, but she did not and would need a guarantor. -___- bummer, so we're scrambling, going through a list that wasn't even a list but more of a spewing out of some sort of names that ended quicker than one blink of an eye. In the midst of our scramblization (I know that's not a word) we get another phone call stating that she doesn't need a guarantor and that the landlord understands the full repercussions of allowing this. We go and sign the lease and I payed for the rest of the rent for the month. NOW, that was around October 24th? To the best of my recollection and he did in fact announce that he'd need 2 or so more weeks to finish the place because it was being completely gutted and renovated (he showed us an apt that was already occupied that our apt is supposed to mirror) I met up with him this past Tuesday, Nov. 10th and got the keys from him and we went upstairs to survey the progress. To me it looked like nothing was done. There was no stove, no bathroom or kitchen sink and no toilet. The floors were done, the doors weren't in place. Although everything seemed new and fresh, something just isn't clicking for me. I'm plagued with clouds upon more thick clouds of these vicious over analytical thoughts. I can't get over them. And the shit that scares me is that it could all make perfect sense. Everything fits in to place. I have a feeling that this realty is bogus and I told Evelyn I felt like this the whole entire time we were in contact with this "Rapid Realty". I feel as if it's some sort of ponzi scheme that's on a roll to collect a trillion some odd dollars and when they reach their quota it's "CIAO BACAHLAO!" I feel like he's a bankrupt landlord and is relying on my $2640.00 to buy a stove, sinks, and toilet. It makes perfect sense as to why he doesn't care if my friend has a guarantor. AND, another thing that creeps me out is that no one seems to be occupying the building we're gunna rent from! I mean there are mailboxes with names, decorated doors but what if it's all a big show? What if the apt they showed us was a show room made to lure us in and entice us? There's about 6 apts in this building and anyone of them could be a torture room or who knows what other sick twisted demented thing I can think of. I'm going to go because I'm freaking myself out.

STEP ASIDE BETTY!

There's a new face out there who can rock the oven and it be me ;) No but seriously, baking is another one of my true callings. And I'm certain that I only have about three (Cooking, animals and modification). SO! as I mentioned in earlier posts, I'm absolutely a fanatic for peanut butter and jelly cupcakes. More like peanut butter and jelly anything but there's something about them that is just so amazing when it reaches my taste buds. I've been getting more frugal lately with my money but have also been trying to satisfy my crave. I usually go to one of two spots for my fix, depending on which one I'm closer to. Eleni's is always my first choice and more expensive at $2.75 a cupcake and Buttercups Bakeshop has decent pbj cc's near my place of employment (-__-); They sell them for $2.25 a cupcake. For their price the cupcake's should be a little better but I guess that's just my preference. Too much sugar and chunky frosting with bits of peanuts in them. And personally I like my frosting to be smooth. Long story short I'm spending too much money on cupcakes when I can be making them myself, especially when I'm talented in the kitchen :) I made them, completely from scratch and vegan. They came out awesome, better than Eleni's and better than Buttercups. And for 15 dollars I made 24 cupcakes, and at $2.75 each it would've came out to $66.00 dollars at Eleni's +tax!! So I saved $51.00 bucks. I will be opening up my own shop soon so be on the lookout.

FRESH!

make moreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

jelly injectiiiooonnn

feeeeenished


yum :}

Nostalgia is Nocturnal

It never fails to taunt right before I close my eyes, forcing me to stay up just a little longer than I'd like to. It's amazing how old memories can eat at you from every direction. I get this overwhelming feeling in my chest and by the time my eyes start to shut it's time for me to get up and go to work. Too often has this been happening, week after week of no sleep and when the weekend finally comes I waste it being a bum under the covers. There are so many things making me anxious right now and I don't know how to let them out, I don't even know how to explain them to anyone. I feel as if someone would have to plug a cable in to their ear connecting to my brain for them to even interpret how I feel. It sort of feels like I'm nervous but giddy, but not quite. Idk..tonight I'm going to try and get an early start on this vicious cycle; Other news is I'm moving! It all happened so fast and I'm excited but really depressed about it at the same time. The new place is about 8 blocks (still in brooklyn) from me now and is pretty chill. Its just hard to get out of this negative view.

If you exist, I'm lookin' for you

Currently seeking: heartache, love that makes you sick to your stomach, the kind that
makes you not want to eat and that makes you forget about months and the time of day. I want love that engulfs me, makes me feel alive and that warms me at night. I want it to make me laugh, pick me up, bring meaning back in to my life. I want the type of love that confuses me, pushes me away and pulls me back in. I need love that delivers blows when things aren't working out. I want it to hurt, and sting, and burn and bruise. I want it so badly. It's so much better than not feeling anything at all, picking up and going as I please. You're disposable; I'll keep throwing them in the trash until I find love like that again.

It's Hard To Be Yourself With All The Pressures Coming Down..

More often than not, people don't let me breathe. They think I'm pretty/cute/smart but what they don't get is that I don't give a shit about them. I'm sick and tired of "OLDER" people (usually someone I know around the age of 23 or so) preaching to me and trying to lecture me about life. On some " Oh yeah I've been through it and don't worry there's a light at the end of the tunnel" type shit. Get the fuck over yourself. I hate it when people think they can tell me what to do or how I should do things a certain way. I don't like being pulled at or pressured. I hate drama and I hate moronic idiots that ask me if it hurt to stretch my ears. MAYBE you wouldn't have to ask if you'd just take the time and read up on it, enlighten your life instead of asking me dumb fucking questions like "did you do it in one day?" or "aren't you going to take that out?" or telling me I'm going to regret it. GO FUCK yourselves. The only day I'll ever meet someone intelligent enough to notice my smile instead of everything else is probably the same day I'm going to die. Anyways..goodnight.

My Free weekends Consist Of:

Going to bed at 8 am and waking at 3pm. -__- very lame.


oh and this stuff too:

From Winner To Loser in less than 30 Seconds.

So, everything in my life went to complete shit in literally 2 seconds. Money, job, boyfriend. All of it. Bullshit. My fucking job doesn't even pay me close enough to what I should get for dealing with the everlasting crap extravaganza that I constantly have to deal with. And when I ask for a raise, because I believe I deserve it, my fucking boss laughs and makes a snarky remark about how that's going to be his next facebook update. All I'm thinking in my head is: "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!" Day in and day out, I'm getting nowhere working there and I WON'T get anywhere if I continue to stay there so I decided that I'm going to quit as soon as I find another job (Hopefully in the next 2-3 weeks) as a waitress. It's something I've been wanting to do for a while because I'm really fucking disgusted with retail. PLUS I've been eying this sweet little vegan restaurant called "Curly's". It's amazing and I would be able to die happy if I choked on their Santa Barbarella sang-gweesh. Oh and they always provide paper when you go in so you can draw, and they usually put my stuff up.

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I don't understand why it's impossible for me to find someone intelligent that I would want to date. It's like they assume I'm a moron as well and that we'll be happily ever after. Well NO, I'm sorry. I DON'T NEED YOU TO BUY ME THINGS, AND RANT ABOUT HOW MEN SHOULD TAKE CARE OF WOMEN. ITS NOT GOING TO IMPRESS ME, I CAN BUY MY OWN SHIT. AND JUST BECAUSE I HAVE MY OWN PLACE DOESNT MEAN I WANT YOU TO STAY OVER ALL THE TIME. ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE A MORON. I'LL SAVE MY TIME AND JUST NEVER SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN.


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We'll see if we can pay rent.

Dont Look For Me,

Cuz I'm not looking for you. I'm done with failing, trying, suffocating. Whatever happens, happens.