whatever it TAKES!

A list, hastily thrown together so as to not cause the author of this blog to miss the new episode of Degrassi. Ellie and Marco kiss. THEY KISS!

• HLC, as if summoned, called me the other day to inform me that they’re finally making good on their promise of active employment. I start my regular schedule on August 4th. OR SO THEY SAY.
• The reason I have to wait until August 4th to start is because until then, I’m gonna be in sunny Myrtle Beach with my best friend Lindsay! Ohandalsomyparentsandsisterandherfriend. We leave tomorrow and will be there for a week, so expect a 16-day hiatus. Oh uhhhhhhhhh, I mean. Blog posts will resume immediately upon my arrival back in New Jersey. Ahem.
• The most exciting aspect of the trip, for me? The books I’m bringing along. Duh. They’re currently stacked in a beach bag, waiting to be devoured poolside: When You Are Engulfed In Flames David Sedaris, Candy Girl by Diablo Cody, Snuff by Chuck Palahniuk (!!!), aaaaaand Bright Lights, Big Ass, Jen Lancaster. WOOOOOO HOOOOOO!!!

Alright. Fare thee well, my tiny readership! See you in a week!

the idle summer

Here’s the situation: HLC clearly overhired. Because I’ve been in for work 4 times in the past month, and just last week they called me to let me know that I would be working on an appointment-only basis. I haven’t heard a word from them in a week and a half or so.

Which probably begs the question: Melissa, what the hell do you do all day? It’s a good question. And I have answers, O my friends. I have answers.

My daily activities can be categorized as follows:

a) Housework. Since my roommate goes to work from about 9:30 in the morning til about 7 in the evening, I delegated the household tasks to myself. I wash breakfast dishes (and the dishes I use myself throughout the day) and wipe down the countertops. I sweep the floors and empty the fridge of Forgotten Produce. I collect trash from around the house at least three times a week. My recycling sorting skillz are second to none. I’m like Cinderella, only I want to do it. Not that Debbie doesn’t do just as much cleaning as me–last week, while I was down the shore with Matt, she cleaned both bathrooms in their entirety and cleaned the kitchen sink, surfaces, and stove. I, uh. I mopped the floors later. I also tidy my own room as much as I see fit. I’m still a little scared to sweep deep into the corners, for fear of, you know, the bloodsucking centipedes. Bleghhh.

b) Food preparation/consumption. Food has long been my defense against boredom. When I was younger, I would simply snack on such wholesome fare as Doritos and Toaster Strudel until my belly became unnaturally round and distended. Nowadays, I cook or bake, and then snack on whatever I just made until my belly becomes unnaturally round and distended. Recently, though, I’ve been averse to using the stove in my kitchen, as it is BALLS-hot in my house and the addition of an open flame doesn’t really help.
Then there’s mealtimes, which add built-in structure to an otherwise completely unstructured day. Additionally, mealtime is still remarkably social, being the only time that Matt, Debbie, and I all hang out together. It’s kind of nice, being a sort of Three’s Company unit, only the boy doesn’t live with us, and we don’t know each other as well. The other night the three of us went on a diner excursion after I’ d had a couple of glasses of white wine, and lo, there were shenanigans. And waffles.

c) QVC-Watching. We opted for basic cable as long as only Debbie and I are going to be here (when my other two housemates move in we’ll probably upgrade), and while I see the practicality of such a decision, I really miss MTV and Bravo and Comedy Central and oh! The humanity!! What I do to compensate is watch QVC. All. Day. Long. People? It is an untapped source of constant entertainment, from the completely futility of most of the products, to the bleached smiles of the hosts, down to (my favorite!) the evangelically loyal, rambling callers. Seriously, tune in sometime–don’t be discouraged if it seems boring for the first 3 minutes or so. Just hang tight for a good 10 minutes and you will not be disappointed. You’re welcome.

d) General Futz-Abouting. You know how it is. Multiple visits to icanhascheezburger.com in an hour. Refreshing your Google Reader about 150 times in 5 minutes. Browsing Etsy (for items that you will buy with what money, exactly?). Rearranging your picture frames, only to replace them all in their original locations anyway. Organizing your shoes by type and color. Lint-rollering all the surfaces in your room. Giving yourself a full face of makeup (because I’m worth it?), then wiping it all off
A few activities I’ve thrown into the mix that are particular to me: downloading and reading no less than four Batman comic series. Watching Silence of the Lambs for no reason whatsoever, then downloading Red Dragon (it’s almost done!). Contemplating my plan of action should the Zombie Apocalypse suddenly occur (escape to roof via the fire escape ladder from the apartment upstairs). Note to self: purchase wood axe.

***
So there you have it. The minutia of The Idle Summer. Sometimes Matt comes over and we do all of the above together. It’s turning out to be alright–it’s just that I had foreseen so much more paid work. I guess something’s brewing. There’s always a calm before the storm, isn’t there?

Whoa.

Whoa. I just heard a massive crack of thunder as I typed that sentence. I’m totally freaking myself out right now. I need to go breathe into a paper bag for a bit. Or just make myself up for a prom, maybe.

The triumphant return of Poetry Monday

A delicious morsel of a poem, full of surprising images, by Geraldine Connolly. It reminds me of The Sandlot. Or Now and Then. Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy:

The Summer I Was Sixteen

The turquoise pool rose up to meet us,
its slide a silver afterthought down which
we plunged, screaming, into a mirage of bubbles.
We did not exist beyond the gaze of a boy.

Shaking water off our limbs, we lifted
up from ladder rungs across the fern-cool
lip of rim. Afternoon. Oiled and sated,
we sunbathed, rose and paraded the concrete,

danced to the low beat of “Duke of Earl”.
Past cherry colas, hot-dogs, Dreamsicles,
we came to the counter where bees staggered
into root beer cups and drowned. We gobbled

cotton candy torches, sweet as furtive kisses,
shared on benches beneath summer shadows.
Cherry. Elm. Sycamore. We spread our chenille
blankets across grass, pressed radios to our ears,

mouthing the old words, then loosened
thin bikini straps and rubbed baby oil with iodine
across sunburned shoulders, tossing a glance
through the chain link at an improbable world.

Summer 2008’s Guilty Pleasures

America’s Best Dance Crew. “Damaged” by Danity Kane. Smirnoff Ice, Arctic Berry flavor (it tastes like Trix cereal!).

Superfluous Target excursions. Bringing Home Baby. Spending hours stretched out on my bedroom floor, smoking hookah with Matt.

Brownies baked in a muffin tin (Bruffins? Mownies?).

IHOP. Food Network Challenge (the last one was MAC AND CHEESE, people. MAC AND CHEESE!). “Leavin” by Jesse McCartney. Maury (but what else is new?). Wine. Lots of wine.

Sleeping with no pants on. Peanut butter, banana, and Nutella sandwiches for breakfast–and dinner.

**

Et tu?

and the people then feasted on the lambes, and the sloths, and orangutans, and fruit bats, and breakfast cereals

Lo, I have seen The Dark Knight.

Yea, the theatre, it indeedeth was fulle of ye Annoying Teenagers Who Start a Group Clap During The Previews.

…Okay, I can’t keep the Olde English up for that long. Haven’t taken enough courses in Middle English Literature for that.

Yes, Matt and I went to the midnight showing. We thought maybe the theater would be full of cool internet hipster twenty-somethings hoping to get the the first peek at one of the biggest viral sensations of the year. Instead, it was basically the population of the entire local high school–because really, what working twenty-something has the time for a midnight movie? Some people have to work, I guess.

I’m not going to say anything about the movie, because I know a lot of people want to see it and I hate spoilers, especially being the cause of them.

…

But JESUS ON ICE SKATES, THE JOKER WAS SO FUCKING CREEPY AND WTF IS UP WITH CHRISTIAN BALE’S GRAVELLY BATMAN VOICE BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER I’D STILL TOTALLY DO HIM AND HOW IS CHRIS NOLAN EVER GOING TO MAKE ANOTHER BATMAN MOVIE BECAUSE THIS ONE WAS SO RIDICULOUSLY WHOLE AND GOOD AND SCARY AND EXPLOSION-Y AND SUSPENSEFUL AND STRESSFUL.

Ahem.

The point of that, I guess, is that it was really, really good, even though it was a bajillion hours long and I had to put up with loudmouthed high school seniors. So go see it! And we can talk about it together! Yay!

call me batshit insane

I’m still getting used to my new house, and by “getting used to my new house” I mean something more along the lines of “distrustful of its capacity to not be crawling at the corners with insects and vermin.”

Call me batshit insane, but every time I open the door to one of the bathrooms or bedrooms in my New Digs, I hang back for a short second, just in case a swarm of locusts bursts out of the sink–just long enough for me to make entirely sure that the floor isn’t covered with black beetles and slightly pulsating, a la The Cockroach Ballroom I Saw On Planet Earth:Caves.

I do this every summer, the OCD double-check for scads of bugs, even in the place I’m most comfortable with–the house I call home, the 2-story in my hometown that the rest of my family lives in. Summer, to me, means a lot of nice things (warmer weather, the beach, grilling, vacations), but it also means insects, flies and mosquitoes and wasps and crickets and daddy longlegs–I’m slapping at my appendages just thinking about them.

Surprisingly, the only types of crawlything I can actually stand are spiders–not monstrous, red beastly spiders, I guess, but the manageably small brown ones that I sometimes see creeping around the doorways? They don’t upset me.

Butterflies, on the other hand. ::jibblie::

I know. I’m a freak. Stamp it on my forehead.

Losing my Sin City virginity

Most people consider Las Vegas’ main appeal to be its widespread gambling opportunities…

Nobody warned me about the slot machines located in the airport.

…or its… shall we say, bold entertainment industry…

Oh yeah, baby. Just kidding. This poster makes me lawl.

I know, I know, I’m like, 12. But I couldn’t resist.

….or apparently, its laid-back perspective on recreational drug use…

Please to properly dispose of your dirty heroin needles?

Myself? I spent most of my 6-day trip to the Debauchery Capital of the country humming a certain TV theme song to myself, scanning the streets for Gil Grissom and Catherine Willows, and keeping a lookout for any signs of the miniature killer (spoiler alert)!

Sing it with me now: Whoooooo are you?

Who, who? Who, who??!

Okay, I also spent a little time attending outrageously long family reunion dinners…

My aunts and uncles representing our little branch of the family tree. This is one of approximately nine thousand pictures taken at this dinner party.

…playing with hair extensions in the outlet malls….

Yikes.

and lounging by the pool at the Venetian…

My cousins, baking pizza in the scalding LV weather.

All-around, good clean fun. Wait. Good, clean fun?! Sin City FAIL.

updates. sweet, sweet updates.

The internet adventure turned out to be not at all as straightforward as I had hoped. Instead of the 3-step plan, it turned into… well, it turned into this:

1) Matt and I drive to the cable company’s payment center to pick up modem and self-install kit. I am promptly informed that since I am not my housemate, under whose name the account was made, I am not authorized to claim said modem and kit. Frustration. Confusion.

2) A decision is made: Off Best Buy to find a wireless modem and the Comcast self-install kit! I took a chance– I remembered my dad and I purchasing one there before but I didn’t know if there was some sort of catch, like you have to sign up for service before you can take one, or maybe, I don’t know, you have to dress up in a purple thing and do a dance.

3) Lunch is eaten. Mandarin oranges, carrots and hummus, and a cold pasta salad with peas and tuna. Just trying to paint a picture here.

4) At Best Buy, I locate the self-install kit but can’t find a decently priced wireless modem. I decide to go to Circuit City to find one instead.

5) Circuit City does not sell modems of any kind. Bastards.

6) Back at Best Buy, I execute my only option: buy a cable modem and a wireless router. My eyes fall out of my face when the cashier reads the total.

7) In the car, I call Matt (who is out job-hunting) to freak out at him after I realize that one needs a computer to act as a server for the internet. And that my computer would most likely need to act as the server. I don’t really mind, but I’m sure my roommates won’t be happy with the idea that whenever I go home on weekends and bring my computer with me, no one will be able to access the internet.

At home, I open up my 1 hojillion boxes and read all 58238 instruction booklets. Part of my brain implodes.

9) Matt shows up at my doorstep. The moral support lifts my spirits enough to get me putting things together.

10) 25 minutes and $139.99 later, I HAVE THE INTERNETS. O FRABJOUS DAY.

So I guess the moral of the story is, the internet is not really that hard to set up. But it is fucking expensive.

***

The only complaint I have about my New Digs has to do with the horrifying giant bugs that crawl up through the drains and disguise themselves as a clump of hair and move about so quickly that you never suspect they exist until they are sucking your brain out of your eyeballs AIEEEEEEEE!

I would try to find you all a picture, but… I’m sorry, no. Googling the word “hairy spiny centipede thing” would probably be the worst possible Google Fail ever.

In any case, I am back home with my parents and sister until tomorrow because of a) a gig at church tonight and b) my best friend’s brother’s graduation/”farewell, you’re going to the army!” party. Where I plan on mostly playing Guitar Hero: Aerosmith and eating her mom’s delicious, delicious brownies. I hope your Saturday is just as pleasant.

O the humanity!

Hi everyone.

This is Melissa, reporting from the depths of Internet Despair.

I moved in on Sunday to a house with no modem. It’s a lovely house, albeit sort of muggy sometimes (no central air), and my housemate Debbie is fun and work is going great and decorating my room is an ongoing project and it’s really nice to be 3 1/2 minutes away from my boyfriend and HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, PEOPLE THERE IS SO MUCH I WANT TO BLOG ABOUT.

Alas. The internet rendezvous-es are few and far between. I have to venture out to campus sometime between God-Awful Early 8 AM and Perfectly Inconvenient 12 PM just to be able to check my email.

But yesterday I took a step in the right direction. I called the cable company and had high-speed internet added to our services. And today I have to:

• go into the ghetto and pick up the self-install kit and the modem from a government store
• go to Circuit City and buy a wireless router
• somehow figure out how to equip my entire household with wireless internet.
• depending on the outcome of aforementioned attempt, either a) pull my hair out, strand by strand, or b) write a victorious, exhausted blog entry, detailing my travails in the past week or so.

I’m banking on Choice A.

Wish me luck!

my aunt came back

Hello!

…Remember me??

The author of this blog??

Guess what?

I’ve been to Las Vegas and I brought back with me-

• sunburned shoulders!
• a debt of $4.80!
• a mysterious infection of the tonsils involving streaks of pus! Strep throat? Tonsillitis? Are those the same? Who knows!

There were also some really cool parts of the vacation (Cirque du Fucking-Oh-My-God-This-Shit-Is-Trippy Soleil; Meeting cousins I’d never even knew existed; Outlet shopping), but those are a few things that happened in Vegas that I definitely wish had stayed there. Oh ho ho. Get it? Get it?

Le sigh.