Get To The Point

Get to the Point

So on Friday I went to Cedar Point with Nik, my friends Linda and Kathy from Gap, and Linda's friend Alissa. It was a bit rainy but we braved the weather to get some thrills on the greatest rollercoasters ever.

Yesterday Shaun and I went to the mall so that I could find a dress for Matt and Beth's wedding, but I was unsuccessful in my attempt. I obviously can't wear white to a wedding, and I don't really want to wear black. I was looking for a pretty color, but preferably all one solid color, and something that I can hide a bra underneath. I didn't even come close. But Shaun and I had fun playing with the SWEET iBooks at the Apple store.

After the mall we went to go see his dad's new condo, which is really nice but way, way out in BFE. (Well actually, I think it's Harrison Twp, but whatever.) We went to dinner with his dad and then went downtown to the Tigers game with his sister and her finacé. The Tigers beat the Indians 3-1 and it was a great game. A 2 run homer by Ordoñez, lots of double plays, and a beautiful fireworks show after the game. There were 37,000+ people at the park, by far more than I have ever seen at a Tigers game, and it got me thinking about what it would be like if the Lions are actually halfway decent this fall -- to have all our pro teams not suck ass in the same year!!

Kick Out The Jams!

Yep, It's Better than "Crash"

You heard me, "Brokeback Mountain," is better than "Crash." I watched it yesterday on a blissful day where I had NO jobs to attend and almost nothing that I absolutely HAD to do. I really should have cleaned up my room a little bit, and maybe done some laundry, but nope! I watched TV instead.

"Brokeback" was in On Demand and as I sat there listening to the preview I began to wonder what had been keeping me from seeing this movie. And then I remembered that Jake Gyllenhall and Heath Ledger, two absolute cuties, have near naked cowboy sex with each other up on that now infamous mountain. Honestly my friends, I thought I was an open minded person, but how reluctant I've been to watch this movie is making me question just how open my mind really is. I am definitely not a homophobe, and I'm not one of those in-betweeners who says, "Hey, as long as you don't hit on ME, we're cool!" I've been hit on by lesbians before and it's not that big a deal. You just say, "Sorry, I'd rather kiss boys, but that's sweet of you to ask -- nice bracelet!," and go on with whatever you were doing.

But I suppose when I think about my response to a person of the same sex hitting on me, I am indeed talking about women. Lesbians, to be exact. And I feel like there is much less hullaballoo around women who like to get it on with each other, than there is with men who prefer other men. I mean, look at all that Girls Gone Wild stuff, it's girls making out with other girls, showering with other girls, blah blah blah. I've seen some, ahem, shall we say 'adult' cinema that includes men on men action, but mostly it just seems cheesy and corny and funny -- but then again most, um, 'adult' cinema strikes me as cheesy and corny and funny -- and sometimes just utterly gross. But I digress. The real reason it took me so long to see "Brokeback Mountain" is because I think Jake and Heath are hot, and I really just didn't know if I could handle watching them do their thing.

So surprise, surprise when it actually turned out to be kind of hot. Yes, I said that too, it was hot! And after thinking about it, I realized why: because of the emotion behind it. (And well, because Jake and Heath are HOT!) It's a story about forbidden love, and, for those of you who know me and my all time favorite books and movies, you know that's the shit I love! (Can you say, "The English Patient??") This story just proves that no matter who it's between, love is truly a beautiful thing; no matter what the genders are of the people in love, ther're in love and that's all that matters. It was also unbelievably well acted, and heartbreakingly sad. I cried, but then again I cried watching, "Fever Pitch," -- you know, with Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore? But this cry was more like a, "Braveheart," or a, "Million Dollar Baby," kind of a cry.

I still haven't seen, "Capote," but honestly, Phillip Seymour Hoffman must have just done an amazing job to beat Heath Ledger out of this one. And I still haven't seen, "Syriana," but I don't think George Clooney really did beat Jake Gyllenhall out of this one, I think the Academy just wasn't ready to give an Oscar to a gay cowboy.

Turns out I'm not the only one who wasn't as open minded as I thought I was. Go rent it!

The Not-So-Great Depression

$85,000. Seems like a lot of money, doesn't it? That's because it is. And I'm drowing in it. Between $80,000 worth of student loans, my car loan, and my one remaining credit card that I am trying to pay off, I am dying in my debt. Somewhere between Van Dyke and Lahser I started crying, and I can't stop. I look at my degree from the University of Michigan hanging on the wall of my bedroom, where I still live in my parents' house, which is so far from being paid off it's absurd, and I honestly question whether or not it was really a good idea to have gone to school there. If I had known everything I know now back when I was 17, I think there's no way in hell I would've ended up going to school there. Or I would have, and studied engineering instead.

I know it's not my mom and dad's fault, but it is. And I know it's not my fault, but it is. And I know it's not because the economy in Michigan is so fucking crappy, but it is. It is everything and it is nothing and it is all day, every day, 24 hours a day, nonstop.

I've always been a smart kid, since I was 3. I find it hard to believe that my parents never realized that I'd be going to college one day, in fact I know they wanted me to go college, yet they saved nothing for it. Didn't prepare at all. Mom said to my 17 year old self, "If you get into Harvard, we'll pay for it, I don't care if I have to clean teeth till I'm 80, you'll go." And my 17 year old self thought, "Well OK, if you say so."

But now I realize that I want my mom to be able to retire. She deserves it. She's the hardest working woman I've ever known in my life, and if anybody on this earth deserves a relaxing retirement, it's her. It breaks my heart to think of her not getting that, because I just had to go to U of M! But why do I feel responsible and guilty because my parents did not have a financial plan that included me going to a school like U of M?? I mean it didn't help that dad got sick, of course, but even if that hadn't happened I think we'd still all be drowning in this mess. When they said go, I didn't question it, I was 17 and I trusted that they knew better than I did. But apparently none of us knew. And now I see my mom come home from work, and she's tired and she's frustrated, and I see my dad unable to work, and he's tired and he's frustrated, and I see my brother not really care if he works or not, which makes my parents tired and frustrated -- and I really want my mom to be able to retire. So that she can garden and read and walk the dog. So that she and my dad can go fishing.

It hurts me so deep in my heart that I now think of my education as pointless. I've been working 2 jobs for over a year now and neither one of them requires anything remotely close to the level of education that I have. A monkey could do what I do. All my education is helping me to see right now is what a fucking waste of time and money it was. And it helps me kick people's asses in Scrabble. And I know that what I learned while I was at U of M includes so much more than what I learned in class, but still, I am gasping for air and feel like I am about to die and none of that is good to me dead.

I think about my friends, the amazing friends that I made and how much I love them and how much I miss them and how far away they all are and how I don't have the money to visit, and don't have energy to call them because the last thing I want to do when I come home from having talked on the phone all day is talk on the phone. And I know that at this rate it's only a matter of time before they really aren't friends anymore. They'll just be the people I used to know when I was younger, and I'll be nonexistent to them. I think about what I learned about myself and what I want out of life, and what I learned about love and what I want in a man and a husband. And then I think, "What was the point?" because any man with half a brain would be insane to marry me with all my baggage. I've got more baggage than Louis Vuitton... and it's probably more expensive too. I feel less than worthless. $85,000 less than worthless to be exact.

I think about what I want my future to be like and how I want to have a career that I actually enjoy, where maybe -- God forbid -- I might make a little bit of money. How I want to get married and be somebody's wife, and have kids and be somebody's mother. And I want to be able to have a home and sign my kids up for every extra thing they want to do whether it's piano lessons or gymnastics or scuba diving or hockey or karate. And I want to be able to take vacations and show my kids the whole wide world, so that they understand what a huge mechanism they are a part of. And I want my husband to be able to buy a motorcycle if he wants, or go fishing with the guys and not have to worry about how we're going to buy groceries that week. And then reality sets in that probably none of that is going to really be possible. Not with the way things are going. Not unless I win the lottery.

All of this probably sounds really pathetic and pitiful, and I know that I am feeling sorry for myself, but lately I cannot even breathe because of it. I open my eyes in the morning and I think about my debt. I wash my hair, I brush my teeth, I start my car, I go to work and I think about my debt. It is crushing me and I am so, so tired. I want so badly to be able to go to graduate school but I feel like that would be the stupidest, most selfish thing that I could ever do. I'd just be digging myself deeper. Deeper and deeper and deeper. I want so badly to quit one of my jobs but I could never survive with just the one.

My mom tells me that if I just have faith, everything will be OK. But I don't have faith. I don't see how anything is going to be OK at this rate, and I can't break out of it. I'm sick of always driving everywhere and I'm sick of putting gas in my car. I'm sick of trying to remind Jesse that he should do this or do that knowing that he won't, and I'm sick that as scary as it is I'm actually glad he joined the Navy because nothing else seems to work. I'm sick of the stupid people I talk to on the phone every day. I'm sick of our stupid president and how he turns people against each other when really we are all so much the same. I'm sick of worrying about everybody all the time, and I'm sick of knowing that people worry about me.

I just don't know what to do anymore, and mom's hugs aren't helping, and Shaun's hugs aren't helping, and I'd really love to go see a therapist and a financial planner, but of course none of that is free -- which means I can't afford it.

So I guess I'll just do what I do every night that I sleep here. Go to bed, watch some of my free cable, and fall asleep in all my pillows with Blue Bear in my arms.

Then tomorrow I'll get up and go to work.

No Basketball for You!

So the other night at work the shit hit the fan. For some reason the network (which shall remain nameless) that was supposed to broadcast the Pistons playoff game in Flint -- and all of mid Michigan actually -- just forgot to broadcast it on the standard channel. It was available on the HD channel, for those lucky few who can afford HD TVs and digital cable and an HD converter box, but for Mr. & Mrs. Average Joe with regular old cable (or rabbit ears) they just could not see the game. Period.

I have never been cussed out that many times in a single night before. Even yesterday, the day after the disaster, we still had people calling about it. It's amazing how people think that we actually control things like that. We can't make something appear on a certain channel, we are just the messenger! It's a simple concept really. I have at least one call a week that goes like this, "What channel is XXXX on?" Try looking it up on TV Guide.com, or check the paper, or, as a last resort, just channel surf til your dumbass finds it.

Anyway, in between getting told to, "Shut the hell up," and, "I f*cking hate your company, I missed the whole game last night!" I drew a stick figure cartoon, because I have zero artistic ability, that summarizes the whole situation. I present it now for your viewing pleasure. Toodles!

Fun Weekend

So this weekend was pretty fun. Friday night Linda and Kathy and I went to Roosevelt's in Farmington and ended up getting hit on by the three strangest guys ever. One was tall and skinny with a mouth full of braces who opened the conversation with the classic line, "I almost went to Arizona State,"and two were short -- one with a gigantic noggin and the other with some *huge* glasses that magnified his eyes to about 4x the normal size. Their names were Mike, Mike, and Pat. After a few minutes of politely chatting with them, Kathy mentioned our boyfriends, hoping that would drive them away. But no! That only prompted the tall one to begin complaining about his girlfriend, who was apparently hanging out with some other dude that night. It took us what seemed like FOREVER to get them to leave, and afterwards the bartender came over to us to ask if it had been as bad as it looked from far away. "Yes," we replied in unison, "it was." I must say that it was entertaining though. It's not often you get to see three products of inbreeding that close up.

On Saturday I went to Beth's bridal shower and got to hang out with the ladies of Shaun's family without him around, which was kind of neat. I really love that I genuinely get along with them, especially since I have never, ever dated a guy with sisters before. We had good food at Olive Garden and had fun watching Beth open her presents. She is going to be such a beautiful bride! After the shower I went home to take a nap before meeting up with Shaun and some of his friends from Art Van at the Blarney Stone in Royal Oak.

Yesterday was spent cleaning my room before heading out to Ann Arbor to see Lys since she is in town for her little sister's graduation from U of M. (Holy crap!) I realized that it had been THREE YEARS since we'd seen each other, and it was SO nice just to grab a beer and catch up on old times. Shaun came with and I think he was truly and deeply impressed by the beer selection at Ashley's pub in Ann Arbor. We even stole a pint glass to add to his growing collection! Hooray for big purses.

Anyways, today it's back to work after a lovely three day weekend. It's nice that I only have to work four days before I get two more off again.

Are you people who read this still alive?? I haven't had a comment in eons.