Taking the first flight of the day
Sure, you have to get up unreasonably early, but there’s less chance of a delay and the airports tend to even smell a bit better.
guess what time the alarm will sound at tomorrow morning?
5:00 am!!!! followed by an hour drive to the airport!!!
mcsweeney’s may recommend it, but we do not.
and 
now it’s all i can listen to
+ i think i have a crush on sara
why we’ve been anxiously awaiting tuesday, april 29th (and happy day-after-your-birthday ms. tanner!):
1. tegan and sara in albuquerque (!!!!), which means 
2. dinner at zinc, which we’ve been wanting to try + they have a tequila tasting! (yes, right up the a.r.w.’s
alley, but unfortunately not going to happen due to the inevitable hour drive after the concert)
3. the release of a new portishead album
4. one day closer to the philly trip
speaking of which, are philly cheesesteaks that good?
dear wordpress,
why did you trick me so? you tell me to upgrade to 2.5.1, but when i do, i cannot publish nor save my posts. in fact, even typing is difficult. you drive me crazy!
luckily, and with much patience, i have ‘downgraded’ back to 2.5. i refuse to upgrade until these bugs are fixed. what is a blog when one cannot post whenever one feels like it?
your no-longer-frustrated friend,
the a.r.w.
p.s. i did try your support forums, but they were no help.
this is hilarious
mcsweeney’s, of course
Conversations My Parents Must Have Had While Planning To Raise a Child
by: Jen Statsky
- - - -
DAD: I don’t think we should ever talk about feelings.
MOM: Never.
- - - -
DAD: I’ll take the greatest number of photographs of her when she’s in her most awkward stage, right in the depths of puberty.
MOM: Good idea. I’ll make sure to send them to all our immediate and all our somewhat distant family and friends. Oh, and make sure you forget your camera the one night in her life that Billy Sherman talks to her, so that no proof exists of said event.
DAD: Got it.
- - - -
DAD: We should talk very loudly about the truth about Santa Claus.
MOM: Yes, and let’s not make any attempt whatsoever to disguise Santa’s handwriting from our own.
- - - -
MOM: Let’s make sure we avoid the topic of sex so masterfully and so consistently that she begins to wonder if it’s something made up by people on TV.
DAD: Good idea. Let’s also ignore the existence of any of her long-term boyfriends, no matter how harmless, awkward, and acne-prone they are.
- - - -
MOM: She should never have to worry about money, especially when she’s young.
DAD: I agree. That way, she can spend all her time worrying about us getting a divorce.
- - - -
DAD: When I teach her to ride a bike, I will tell her that my hand is on the seat, but then I will take it away just as she is getting the hang of it.
MOM: That will not turn out well.
DAD: No.
- - - -
MOM: I’ll make sure to give her a haircut that matches mine. Mine in 1972, that is.
DAD: Great. I’ll wear an awkward comb-over.
- - - -
DAD: I think I’ll always be a little bit weirder than necessary around her friends. Especially the “cool” ones who are just over to copy notes for Ms. Reardon’s AP Physics midterm.
MOM: Sounds good. I’ll always talk one decibel louder than a normal person.
- - - -
DAD: She will beg us to get a dog for many, many years.
MOM: And I will repeatedly tell her how I am allergic to animal hair.
DAD: You will wear a fur coat.
- - - -
MOM: Whenever she does something that really upsets me, I’ll always make sure to tell her that “her grandmother is rolling over in her grave.”
DAD: Even though we will cremate her.
- - - -
DAD: I will demonstrate a total lack of understanding of the proper grammatical way to use quotation marks, and sign every birthday card with “Love.”
MOM: That will keep her on her toes.
- - - -
MOM: I think the most important thing is that we will criticize her, no matter what she does or who she becomes.
DAD: And that she knows we criticize her just as much as we criticize each other.
- - - -
DAD: Let’s not give her a little brother or sister.
MOM: No. That might function as some sort of coping mechanism.
- - - -
MOM: We can’t take her on those classic but trite kid vacations that every other child in the Western world gets to experience, like trips to Disneyland.
DAD: No, for she will gain great popularity and respect from her second-grade classmates when she wears her “I Went to Vermont and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt Made From 100% Recycled Compost-Heap Materials” T-shirt.
- - - -
DAD: We should always give her what she wants.
MOM: That way, we can hold it against her when she’s older and can finally provide for herself.
as i leave the building, i begin to feel somewhat elated. the bright side of the situation steps forward in my mind: i managed to escape from that awful intervention unscathed, i have over a month off from work, and it’s only two in the afternoon.
i do not have to go to work tomorrow or the next day or the day after this. as i walk away from the building, i have a sense of flight. the sun is strong, with heavy clouds in the sky. i can get seriously drunk tonight without that awful, annoying concern about how much i will stink in the morning.
i feel high, as though i have been handed some incredibly good news.
what i really like to do is get drunk at home so i don’t feel so nervous and inhibited, then go out to some dive bar and talk to guys. you never know who you’ll meet or where you’ll end up. it’s like this fucking incredible vortex of possibility. anything can happen at a bar. unlike greer, i have options, i like to not really know what’s going to happen next. resolutions can be very dull.
then it hits me. an awful glitch. something so unfathomable that it dawns on me with a slow blackness that makes me feel hollow.
in order to get away with this, i may actually have to something so horrifying that i can barely admit it to myself.
i may actually have to go to rehab.
–augusten burroughs
in less than a week, i will be blogging in philadelphia.
in less than three days, i will be on my way to albuquerque to see tegan and sara!
in less than three hours, i will be re-entering the restaurant.
paella for everyone.
you know it’s bad when you have to tell yourself NOT to bring a flask to work…
i think my head is clearest when i’m taking a hot shower.
do i blog? or do i jump right into the latest episode that’s available for free, for free!!, online?
by the way, i forgot to add one thing to the list of reasons that waiting tables sucks: having to stand around for the first TWO HOURS until the customers actually show up. that’s just plain torture. oh and then there are the ten percent tips! clearly, i could continue. clearly, last night was, ahem, frustrating.
i know, let’s do it again tonight!!!! ::sarcasm::
in all honesty, if it weren’t for the money and the fact that i love socializing with people in these environments, i’d never walk into a restaurant job again. sometimes i feel i should never say never, but in this instance, i think it’s okay.
and thank you to all my readers who are leaving comments….i heart you.
slam – nick hornby — i usually love nick hornby’s books. ‘how to be good’ was awesome, and written from the perspective of a female! and then, of course, there is 
‘high fidelity’ (yes, the john cusack movie)! so as soon as i heard that ’slam’ was published, i wanted to read it. this time, hornby writes from the perspective of a young boy, a teenager, who experiences an unexpected turn of events. you see, unlike other bloggers (whose names will not be mentioned here), i am not going to give away the ending! hornby is a great contemporary writer — read it.
after dark – haruki murakami – i was 
first introduced to murakami with ‘norwegian wood.’ if you haven’t read that yet, you need to. now. he is one of the most unusual writers and ‘after dark’ is yet another example of his continual efforts to create something different, truly different. the story follows two girls, sisters, in tokyo, who are experiencing strange connections between time and space. murakami is a creative genius.
and now you can go – vendela vida – 
her first book. it didn’t impress me as much as ‘let the northern lights erase your name,’ but it was a good read. i appreciate it more the more i think about it, actually. fyi: she is dave eggers’ wife and an editor of ‘the believer.’ a mcsweeney’s relative. i actually saw her and eggers’ speak in santa fe a couple years ago. i think ‘let the northern lights erase your name’ is an incredible story. and extremely well-written. vendela vida knows how to use a metaphor.
dry – augusten burroughs – 
of course, i already mentioned this (see previous post titled dry). a memoir of burroughs’ struggle with alcoholism. unexpectedly fun, despite the dark nature of the subject. if you like david sedaris, you’ll like burroughs.
next:
into the wild 
– john krakauer – yes, i’ve seen the movie. but i still want to read the book. i usually believe it’s better to read the book first, of course. but sometimes we just gotta do it backwards, right?
i have spent the day in and out of anxious thoughts and grumpy moods. i have to cover a shift tonight at the restaurant which makes this week three nights of work instead of my usual two. two is already more than enough, thank you. don’t get me wrong…i do (mostly) enjoy working at the restaurant, but then there is the…
1. blisters on the bottoms of your feet
2. pretending
3. kissing ass
4. watching other people enjoy food and alcohol
5. cleaning up after other people enjoy food and alcohol
6. tourists
7. vacuuming at 10 or 11 p.m. (with the blisters on the bottoms of your feet, mind you)
8. having to wait until the last customer leaves
……….i could go on………..
how much i love, LOVE, spaghetti?
last night, someone asked me, ‘if you had to give something up, which would it be: spaghetti or smoking?’ (note to reader: i don’t smoke cigarettes and i don’t smoke crack, you figure it out). it was quite possibly one of the most difficult questions i have ever been asked. if you know me personally, you probably know that i’m an avid smoker and spaghetti-eater. the idea of having to give up either is, frankly, terrifying.
please don’t make me.
and i am now off to cook spaghetti.
dear reader,
i have a confession — i love comments. leave me comments, please. don’t just check the latest entries and then click away to another, possibly more enticing blog. leave me a comment! i beg of you! any comment will do! it will make my day!
back to our regularly scheduled programming….
i want one of these. don’t you!? 
“the cork screw bottle-biner — a real multi-tasker, this steel carabiner includes a spring-loaded corkscrew and a bottle opener - reach new heights of refreshment!” $6.99 + shipping and handling.
courtesy of urbanoutfitters.com
so, i recently started reading this blog. i noticed it was in the un’s blogroll and it peaked my curiosity. little did i know that the writer is an award-winning blogger! she’s hilariously clever and has become a new inspiration for me, the blogging neophyte!
a quote from dooce, written in october, 2001. subject: living in los angeles (a subject i know all too well):
I can wear flip flops and tube tops every single day of the year. And thanks to Tori Spelling, I am not alone.
check her blog out, it’s worthwhile, i promise. and her photography too!! maybe one day, i’ll be able to take …the almost right word to a similar place. 
update: after endless internet perusing, i encountered this photograph of ms. dooce herself. i swear that my mom and i came up with a similar idea to the one shown here! yet more proof of dooce’ brilliance, clearly. yes, the card does read ‘zoloft’ — don’t you just love her!?
Caffeinate With Care: Small Shots Do a Brain Better Than Big Blasts
By Mathew Honan
WIRED MAGAZINECoffee, yerba maté, Red Bull — there’s a caffeinated beverage for every demographic. And no wonder: Caffeine jump-starts the body and sharpens the mind. But studies suggest that we Yanks are doing it wrong. For optimal brain gain, regular tea breaks, as favored in the UK, are more effective than a 20-ounce French roast sucked down at Starbucks in lieu of breakfast.
an open to letter to coffee:
dear coffee,
how come you make me feel so good, when everyone else says you are so bad?
until tomorrow…
xoxo
i will be rocks, i will be water. 
i will leave this to my daughter:
lift your head up in the wind.
when you feel yourself grow colder
wrap the night around your shoulders
and i will be with you even then
even when i cannot see your face anymore.
– deb talan
i finished a book today — dry, by augusten burroughs. i figured it would be worthwhile to read something about addiction. i have a friend who has been dealing with a pretty serious addiction of her own. sometimes i give up on her. sometimes i want to help. we’ll go weeks without talking. she won’t return my phone calls. i worry that she’s disappeared into her drug den of a home. and then, i get a frantically happy message from her and i can’t help but doubt its sincerity. she’s probably just in the middle of a bender, i tell myself.
i put the book down. place my headphones on my head and turn up the volume on teardrop (massive attack).
burroughs is a great writer. self-deprecating. clever. hilarious. and true to himself. he writes very openly and honestly about his experience with alcoholism, and his struggle to stay sober. i understand his addiction. i know what it’s like to need a drink, or something worse.
i walk in circles as i ask myself, over and over again, if i’m capable of being an alcoholic. does ones genetic make-up truly mean that they are predisposed towards something? is alcoholism really ‘in my blood?’
actually, it’s surprising that i drink at all, considering my father. he drank so much that i didn’t even see it. it was like some fathers had mustaches and some fathers had baseball caps and my father had a glass attached to his hand. it wasn’t strange. i didn’t think, oh, my dad’s an alcoholic. i just thought he was always thirsty.
– augusten burroughs
