As you may remember, I started a new job a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve abso-loving it so far. The people are great, I love how close it is to home, and my days FLY by! Seriously, before it felt like I was living in the land of 18 hour work days, and now I barely even have time to reach for a kleenex when I sneeze. I said barely people, gross as I may sometimes be- I do reach for a kleenex most of the time when I sneeze, especially when I’m in public. I even keep a bottle of hand sanitizer near-by for those close-nose-calls.

Although, speaking of sneezes, there was this one sneeze in my life that I am particularly proud of. We were at a house party so I made LA accompany me to the bathroom so we could have old-fashioned gal-potty time and discuss the actions of all the Douchengoyles at the party. (Julie mentioned it today, but just in case you missed it- “Douchengoyle” is basically the best word ever! It’s a combo of 2 of our favorite terms for ass-hat boys, “douchecanoe” and “gargoyle”.)

Anydouche, whenever I drink I usually have to sneeze a million times. Actually, I have to sneeze about 5 times after anytime I consume mostly ANYTHING. I have no idea why that is, but it’s quite annoying. I’m starting to think I have a wheat allergy, because it mostly happens when I drink beer or eat anything bready.

So I was sitting on the toilet (#1) when a giant sneeze started to arise from the deepest dark embarrassing parts of my body. I sneeze often, but I rarely have the types of sneezed that literally take over all of my abilities to do or think about anything else. This time though, the sneeze was all encompassing. I’m not sure if I had finished peeing at the point of combustion, but if I hadn’t it definitely shook my blatter clean. I’m fairly sure I didn’t even have to wipe for the next week. One hand was incapacitated with my drink, and the other with toilet paper, so I had no way to cover my mouth, or in this case, my nostrils. After all was said and done, I knew that a fair amount of mucus had made it’s way out of my body, I just couldn’t find where it landed. That is until LA reached for the doorknob to leave the bathroom. Ah yeah… it flew right across the room and landed perfectly square on the doorknob. I probably shouldn’t be so proud, but I kind of am, so judge if you want.

In other news, LA and I finally found some time to unpack a few boxes this afternoon, namely the ones with all of the books in them. It’s weird, for the last few weeks I have felt an emptiness inside of me that couldn’t put my finger on. It wasn’t until tonight when we finally got all of the books up on the shelves that we spent so many hours painting, that I finally realized that I was really missing my books. It’s been over 2 months since I’ve picked up a book to read, which is absolutely crazy for me… It’s not that even I miss reading all that much, although I suppose I do a bit, it’s more that books make me feel good, they make me feel comfortable and at home.

I grew up in a home where books were super important. There wasn’t a room in the house that didn’t have a bookshelf except for the bathrooms… though there were always plenty of books lying around in there as well. Both of my parents are huge readers, and there were weekends when I can remember everyone in my family sitting around in our perspective comfy-spaces with a good book. Even when it was time to eat, or if someone had to go to the bathroom, there was no need to put the book down, we would simply walk around with the book in hand, bumping into walls and each other as we tried to make our way around the house. I probably don’t own a book that isn’t stained with ketchup.

When I was a kid, my mom worked part time at a half-priced bookstore, so I spent much of my summer vacations and weekends there. It was the coolest little place. Each genre had it’s own room. The walls were covered with book and movie posters, and there was a huge section just for comics. I also spent a lot of time hanging out at the headshop next door, but that’s a whole nuther post.

So yeah… books make me feel good. Just having them around me. Plus there is something about owning a collection of anything, and books and movies are my two favorite things to collect. Whenever I get upset or anxious, I will spend hours reorganizing my books and DVDs.

But there is something else about books that I have missed, and since I’ve already gone to a TMI place tonight, I figure I’ll continue on with that.

JOHN CUSACK, If you’re reading… please stop now!

You see, I never really have problems with going… number 2. I keep quite a regular schedule, especially since I’ve changed my eating habits. But lately I feel that things have been a bit off… Then I remembered about the secret magical power that books have for me. I mean… All I have to do is look at a book and I feel like all my assues are solved. I literally cannot walk into a Barnes and Nobles without having to go-go. I have never been able to figure out if it’s the fact that I associate reading with going, or if it’s the smell of coffee… but it is the most natural laxative EVER!

Anyone else have this problem amazing miracle cure with books and bookstores?

And since we’re not on the subject, but ever so slightly related… I read about this really great product today. Whether you have a man or a dog, I think it could really be helpful…

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Personally, I have a love/hate relationship with horror flicks. I really like to watch them. Really, I wouldn’t turn one down no matter how “B-rated” it may be. Zombie movies are my favorite, but I will watch ANYTHING. In fact, I got started on “horror movies” way earlier than the average pup. I’m not sure whether my mom just didn’t see anything wrong with showing them to me, or if she really didn’t think they would affect me- but I can honestly say I remember watching Poltergeist at 5 years old.

As much as I like them  and I appreciate that my mother didn’t censor them from me, I have a feeling that movies of the horror genre had a greater influence on me than anyone would have guessed. You might even say I have been scarred for life. So in light of it being “National Scary Movie Week” or at least “My House Scary Movie Week ,” I share with you the 5 movies that had the most profound affect on me as a child.

Arachnophobia: I recently re-watched this movie and I have come to the conclusion that I must have been thinking of a different movie. When I watched it way back when, it was definitely, in no way shape or form- a comedy. This movie absolutely terrified me. I remember making my sister come and sit in the bathroom with me while I showered because I was thoroughly convinced that a spider was going to come up the drain and instantly kill me with it’s poisonous venom. I was scared to eat popcorn because of the scene where a spider is in the bottom of the bowl.  And to this day, if I see a spider, no matter what breed- chances are you will see me pull a cartoon and run straight through the door.

Child’s Play: I have to preface this with the fact that my parents were of the belief that I really liked playing with dolls. Every year they would drag me to the local doll show and buy weird creepy used dolls that I had to pretend to enjoy. Truth was, the only “dolls” I ever really loved was a Teddy Bear named Teddy, and my Teddy Ruxpin.  Even before I saw this movie I was convinced that my dolls would come alive when no one was around. I blame this on my viewing of Jim Henson’s “A Christmas Toy” about a kajillion times. (If you haven’t seen this, it was basically an earlier, more primitive version of “The Toy Story.”) I was already very sensitive about my doll’s feelings, and didn’t want any of them to feel more important than the others. So after I caught a viewing of Child’s Play at the ripe old age of 7, I was more scared than ever to piss any of my dolls off. Every night before I snuggled up to Teddy, (the regular stuffed animal not Ruxpin because he was hard) I would walk around my room and kiss each and every doll goodnight and tell them that I loved them.

There was one doll in particular that frightened me the most. It was nearly life sized and had red unruly hair, very a la’ Chucky. I grew convinced that this particular doll in a one piece swimsuit would be my demise. I paid it extra special attention, even though it really frightened the bejeezus out of me. I started noticing that it was never in the same place that I left it. I finally told my mother and she swore that she would get rid of it for good. She said she burned it. Years later, when I was a Junior in High School I came home to find that swimsuit doll on my day bead. You might say I went a little ballistic. I thought it had come back for the sequel. My family thought it was hilarious.

Image by Echo9er via Flickr

Pet Cemetery: My dad grew up in the house where my grandparent’s still live. He had 3 other siblings, and came from a family that really loved animals. I loved my grandparent’s house because they had woods in their backyard where my cousins and I would frolic and build forts and such. I loved it all, except for one little area, just barely visible from the back room where I had to sleep. Their pet cemetery. Ah hells no. This shit even has gravestones and everything. I never really thought much about it until I saw the movie. Then I would think of practically any excuse not to have to stay over at their house (even though it was my favorite place on earth) and if I did have to stay the night I would ask to sleep with my sister. On the occasions where I had no choice but to sleep in the back room, I would stay up all night, one eye steadily focused  the white grave stone in the distance. I imagined seeing dogs and cats and raccoons rise from the graves to attack me. Those gravestones still scare me to this day.

Image via Wikipedia

Jaws: My mom had an obsession with pretty much everything that could hurt me (vampires, zombies, spiders, boogie men) and sharks were no exception. Jaws was one of her favorite movies, and consequently one of the movies that I watched as a very young child. As if that movie didn’t scar me enough, every summer my family would make a six hour drive to the coast. My mother would spend the entire six hours reading true stories of shark attacks out loud. As a result, I spent the better half of every summer vacation scouting the ocean for sharks. While my cousins would all take their floats out as far as they could go, I would stay knee deep-eyes out.  I am finally to the point where I’m not afraid to go in the water, but you can bet I would be VERY aware of any dorsal-like fins that may appear in my near vicinity (3 square miles, to be exact.)

The Return to Oz: I haven’t seen this in a very long time (because damnit it was scary) but I do remember it quite clearly. I think. Am I even thinking of the right movie? All of Dorothy’s old friends were stoned (in the turned to rock sense, not doing drugs…)

She meets up with a talking reindeer, a weird robot thingy called Tick-Tock, and a man with an empty pumpkin head. If that is not creepy, then I don’t know what is. I was mostly scared of the lady that changed her heads like they were wigs. Even Dorothy played by that scary girl from the Craft, and she is creepy enough by herself. I don’t have much else to say about this movie, but I know it terrified me.  The trailer is below, just in case you are curious.

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As always, stay classy on this wonderfully beautiful Tuesday.

I have been diligently writing to myself for over 20 years.

That is insane.

There are not many things in life that I have done diligently for 20 years, except for the obvious activities like brushing my teeth.
So… I sat on the ground for about an hour on my closet floor, with the journals spread all around- flipping through my life, just as I always do whenever I come across old photo albums, baby books, and the other various archives of my life. There are some entries that brought back pain and sadness- and I could remember all too clearly the emotion I felt when writing them. Others are just so ridiculous; I am embarrassed that I would have written these thoughts down, even if they were meant for my eyes only.

The first page of every journal starts out with some kind of disclaimer, for you know- if I were to die or if someone were to find my journal. These disclaimers range anywhere from threats to lies.

This first one is a little lame-

“If someone were to find this journal and read it- I just cannot believe you”

Another one reads-

“My journal for whatever thoughts, dreams, ideas, complaints, insights, quotes, favorite things, and goals. Don’t read unless I’m dead-or else you will be dead.”

And my personal favorite, if I do say so myself-
(from a high school journal)

“If you come across this journal, shut it right now. If you are my parents and read it anyway, some things written here are written for when I’m famous and they publish this and are purely for entertainment value- so don’t worry- I don’t really drink.”

I’m thinking about reusing that last one as a disclaimer for my blog.
Another thing I noticed is that my writing style and topics of choice haven’t really changed since I was in junior high. You’d think that after doing something for over twenty years, my writing would have vastly improved, or at least evolved. I guess this rule doesn’t apply for diary writing.

I’m a little hesitant to do this, as I am basically outing myself as a truly ridiculous/sappy/annoying/egocentric/boring/embarrassingly stupid character (most of these are still true today)… but I’ve decided to share with you a few passages from my high school journal- which is just the one I grabbed when I walked out this morning. The names have been changed.

3/19/1998

Ugh ok. Nuthing seems to be going great. Well I guess nuthing is too bad but it makes me mad that nothing is perfect. Earlier I was watching Boy meets World, and it makes me sooooo mad that I can’t find someone that loves me as much as Corey loves Topanga. Ugh “Bob” makes me sooooo mad. I’m sick of all this shit with him. Also I really don’t want to take the ALG test tomorrow. My teacher came up to me and was like “don’t stress just close your eyes and go to your Happy Land.” I wuz like, like the one in Happy Gilmore? Hahaha. I had my span final today. It was ok, I did good but I kinda cheated. Well everyone did! It wuz a stupid test and Dr. “Galvez” hes like a child molester or something.
“Kelsey” said “Tommy “ asked her who I wuz dating. Hes prob not even interested but gosh he is the hottest guy in the world. I hate that we messed around and nothing even happened. Oh well! I’m gonna watch friends and maybe study. Love ya!

That’s some really deep stuff.

05/12/1998
Yesterday we went to Lake Whitney with my fam and it was actually really fun! We swam and went tubing and stuff. Then we watched Heart and Souls, Good Will Hunting, and a really funny one with Bett Midler and Lily Tomlin. Now Im just sittin here listenen to Hope Floats Soundtrack . I can’t wait til theater camp!! It still sucks that I cant get paid cuz I have to use those hours for community service for that stupid MIP. I kinda have a crush on that “Mike” guy now. He told me to call him tomorrow and even though I really think he should call me- I think I might. I dunno. Well anyways, tonight we went to and got kicked out of several hotel parties. Howard Johnsons and some other rogush place. It sucked. Im still kinda drunk lateerrz!

Then just a few days later:

05/15/1998
Today I went to some stupid softball game with “Amy.” It was kinda boring even though there were some cute boys there to talk to. “Paul” is verrry hot and I think he would make the sweetest boyfriend. Well I did talk to “Mike” the other night and he was nice and we had a good conversation but he hasn’t called me as far as I know. I did have a few hang-ups though. My stupid parents need to get caller id fixed. But “Terry” talked to him the other day and said he wuz gonna call me. Im prob much more experienced than him so I don’t care really. Or so he thinks. Plus he has the same initials as Matt Damon so that’s cool, but Im sure he’s still a penishead regardless.! I decided today I want to be an actress. Actually Ive known for a long time, but now I know its my destiny. I will be discovered and become famous starring in a movie with Joshua Jackson and George Clooney. They will play brothers and both will be in love with me! If only Coach “Smith” wasn’t such a bitch and would let me do one act! Tonight I have to beat “Terry” at the movie game. Its my game and no ones gonna beat me. UGHHHH I am SOOO PISSED I CAN”T FIND MY ER TAPE ANYWHERE!! Laterz!

These are embarrassingly sad.. or sadly embarrassing. Either way, I have plenty more of these- some of which I would rather die than share- but we shall see.

I soooooo wish I wasn’t at work today. This totally sucks. Neways, its like nearly lunchtime and Ive gotta go to starbucks cuz that boy that works there is sooooooooo fine! Laterz!