So much time has passed and yet none at all because
I thought about you a lot today.

I'm sure you did too.

Someone close to me saw your new face, your happier face; That something face that told her your appearance wasn't the only thing that had changed (still guilty).
She never said that you looked guilty, but she saw you. And no matter how much time you've spent renovating the rooms, resurfacing dents, and painting the walls, you're still guilty.

I'm not close to her; not like I was to you.
Now I say I'm close to her, because you're the farthest away you've ever been, and she's the closest person to you that I know.

You looked down at your sneakers when her recollecting eyes eagerly locked into yours, because you're not close to her. She's just the closest person to me that you know.

And you're still guilty.

I thought he was a man, but he was just a little boy

The power that men THINK they have over women, and DO have over some women really disgusts me.

I had met a fireman at B&N not so long ago, and he left me his number in a very cute and shy way. I was extremely excited about it because he seemed to be attractive and sweet at the same time.

SEEMED.

Steve The Fireman turned out to be the most disrespectful man I've ever considered dating.

Not to mention that he gave me a blank stare when I recommended Jhumpa Lahiri's latest book to him, and then proceeded to ask what I thought about Mitch Albom.

I bet Mitch Albom is the only shitty author you know, jackass



Over the past few weeks he's been texting me and each time I become more convinced that he really is the dog some people stereotype firemen to be.
One day he sent me a tacky, almost-naked photo of himself to show me how he looked with his shirt off. And yes, he looked great, but show some modesty please! It's like he was showing me how hot he was and then I wouldn't be able to resist him. Clearly, he didn't know who he was dealing with.
*THEN* he asked me to send him one! Of course I absolutely did nothing of the sort.

The texts (not even a phone call) have been on and off, but I still refuse to go out with him. Last Sunday he came into the bookstore and I completely ignored him after I blatantly looked at his text that read "Hi 2 u too".

Way to be illiterate.

I thought that convinced him I wasn't interested because his texts stopped for about a week, until Tuesday, Election night--

He wanted to see what I was up to, and to inform me that my "boy" Obama was going to beat his choice, McCain.
Previously when I had asked him why he was voting for McCain, he had no real reason and stated that he agreed with most of Obama's ideas, but he just wasn't voting for him.

Oh, so you're a racist fuck; cool.

Earlier this morning he texted me yet again with nothing interesting to say, except he was particularly offensive this time. I'm almost embarrassed to look through my texts and type it up, but, here it goes...

Him: Sorry bout the other day my phone was acting up. How are u

Me: No problem, maybe you need a new phone? I'm good though, cutting my morning classes today to get some rest. what are you up to?

Him: I'm gonna hit the gym and then study. What gym do u go to

Me: Lucille Roberts on Bell. I actually don't like it that much, it's too crowded now. I wanna look for a better one when my contract ends. Where do you go?

Him: LAfitness. Best gym in ny. Lakeville rd union tpke. U should come check it out today.

Me: Oh, I know it, near Lake Success...it's too far for me to travel from school next semester though. I might be transferring to Hunter.

Him: Oh ok well they give a free month u should check it out I'd like to watch u workout.

Me: Wow, way to be overly aggressive.

Him: Thats nothing. Maybe I am too old (He's 28).

Me: If you think so then you probably are

Him: U can be my pal and I can watch you work out

Me: Not gonna happen. You should watch one of the girls that are already there

That was it; The creep's number has been deleted, along with his texts--including the one about me looking like Sarah Palin (I know, gross). His horrible grammatical errors and guido-esque language made me feel like a velour-suited, Ugg-wearing guidette anyways.

I'm not a prude;
Acting like I'm the latest exhibit at the Bronx Zoo isn't going to get me wet. It's going to get me pissed and I will permanently revoke your temporary visitor's pass.

The Dirtbombs @ Southpaw

The Dirtbombs are playing this Thursday at Southpaw in Brooklyn and I am super STOKED. They're an amazing band with a garage, punk, and soul all into one kinda sound, so David and I are going to check 'em out and (probably) have a life-changing experience. I attempted to go to a few of their shows this summer, but my soul-crushing retail job gets in the way of everything fun. They're so fucking good...I just can't wait!!!!

And there will definitely be a picture blog to follow!


The band:
THE DIRTBOMBS


The venue:
SOUTHPAW

**Highly recommended!

I'm am SO tempted

To purchase this t-shirt.

You can too! HERE: Print Liberation

Faded Things: A Cento

The pay phone on the corner might ring
Something in the air wanting desperately to draw attention to itself only to assuage awkwardness

At the moment all the uppermost windows might open and let go a sky full of confetti
and banners
but the eerie sheen someone alone leaning over the aft rail mulling over his love life
might notice
Nobody will ever know why she chose the high floor she did to look down on the
cemetery
She could have stayed at street level and focused on the conspiracy of the buildings to
keep out sky

There is a kind of non threatening bewilderment that ambushes you a few days later

as you sit
The days of mutual admiration come and go

Punch lines and promises long since torn from their moorings bobbing in the slatch of the
mind
Heredity of cruelty everywhere
Now think of this day. One you will probably forget.

The feel of gravitational pull against eyelids is just Monday

At 9 I am a dandelion
Blooming swollen eyes
Legs that will sway
And bend in robust winds
But never snap



My brain stings and my puff pastry eyes are pumping blood through coral-red veins, fighting to keep the numb peepers open.

I spent a very small portion of my weekend sleeping, and I didn't even do anything badass. Being exhausted and going to school from 8am-5pm is really a drag, and even worse on an empty stomach.

I'm feeling like the victim of a major head trauma accident. My brain feels swollen and I should really be reading textbook pages and then sleeping.

I decided to clean out the basement instead.

It's amazing how much stuff my grandma has kept over the years and she finally gave me the okay to move some stuff out and take some old bookshelves into my room. She keeps EVERYTHING. I plan on painting the shelves red, to contrast with my mustard walls. Right now they're tan and look weird, like furniture sprawled out on a lawn during a yard sale; out of place.
The books I have piled in size-order on every available surface will soon have a home. Maybe once my room's organized, my brain will be too and then I'll get some sleep.

Hold the onions and the pickles...and okay, the tomatoes too

Sometimes I think that I'm the pickiest person ever and then I think "Oh nah, I'm just selective" and completely disregard the thought.
Recently I've acknowledged it again.

I've tried dating different types of guys and maybe just once I liked the guy straight off the bat. It takes me a while to get over the visual flaws and let my attraction to his personality take over. Now of course that last sentence sounds vain, but I don't intend it to, it's the way I am and I wish it weren't.
On the other hand dating guys I find more attractive than I am give me low self-esteem.
There's really no in between for me.

The reason I've been dwelling on this lately is because my mom decided to try hooking me up with this Greek kid her co-worker knows (it was the woman's suggestion). The thought of blind dating is a giant mind groan to me, but I've never dated anyone Greek before and am quite curious. I'm almost embarrassed to say that I'm too lazy to start something new. The whole "getting to know you" thing is exhausting and when it doesn't work out, discouraging. We've been chatting on Facebook since yesterday and...he has nice grammar?
It's just too soon to tell.