Monday, May 23, 2005

my attempt at becoming stress-free

so i have been pretty stressed out lately. maybe it's the many details of planning a wedding, maybe it's the frustration of searching for a home, maybe it's because i don't really feel utilized at my job. but i'm putting my foot down. i am making a declaration this week - i will be prisoner to stress no more!! i have lost enough hair, and i want to keep some for a gorgeous do on October 21st! so that's it. as of 3:26pm, i will be fighting this evil beast until i am marsha brady once again.

so my plan to beat this thing goes like this...

i am going to get a massage sometime this week. yay!!

i will read or watch something funny. at least once a day. because laughing is key, and i don't do it enough. (chris rock perhaps? suggestions welcome)

i will write more. because i have no outlet. and need one.

i will excercise. even though it's my nemisis. i will do SOMETHING (this will provide dual combat as i continue to fight fatness). with that said..

NO MORE PASTA RONIS or GRANDE WHITE CHOCOLATE MOCHAS!

Friday, February 11, 2005

currently...

and now a random survey created by yours truly to let you know just what's going on in my head 10 minutes before quitting time...

body temp: right hand slightly cold from icy bathroom water
hunger state: fantasizing about a bowl of angel hair pasta with lots of parm and butter
currently eating: eclipse peppermint gum and the end of my pen.
mood: slightly apathetic, but happily anticipating a friday night in cranberry land.
high of the day: hearing the howard dean crazy speech on howard stern.
low of the day: abstaining from chocolate in a (weak) attempt to lose weight (or at least my double chin)... you say it's ridiculous... i say when was the last time you saw me?? heh.
concerns: part of my plant "neddie" has fallen to the side, but he has enough water and looks healthy. odd. very odd.
aggravations: not being able to find an inexpensive reception hall near the church that we want to get married in.
fun yet slightly aggravating things: looking for a HOUSE! found some great condos across from a methadone clinic in downtown brockton. *ugh*

well, it's 5:00. that's all folks.

Thursday, February 10, 2005

and now, a colorful story for those weak in stomach

as all two of you that read my blog may have figured out, i've been incommunicado on my blog for the past couple of weeks. so much has been going on in small town america. let's recap.

a few weeks ago, brandon and i were on the hellish commuter rail on our way into what his dad candidly calls "the blacktop forrest." i say that the train is hellish because i could see hell as riding on a trudging, crammed train with an overcologned man sitting in the seat in front of you, clogging up your nasal passages for all eternity. gnashing your teeth, using the MBTA - they go hand in hand, really.

so we arrive at south station, but because it is a one-level train, the people crammed in the aisle are able to observe hairs growing from the moles on people's necks, flaking dry skin, - you get the idea. fortunately brandon and i had a seat. i prefer the window seat to minimize the possiblity of a stanger acidentaly brushing up against my bicep with their ass. who gave them the right to use my armrest as a seat anyway?

so the train is packed, we're all bundled in our 10 degree outfits, and as we're waiting for the car to decongest, a man in a red coat and wool gloves (standing parallel to where brandon and i sat, mind you) coughed once (not covering his mouth, which is totally disgusting as it is) and proceeded to projectile vomit onto the man's expensive looking wool coat in front of him. this happened 3 times, and it even got on brandon's pants and shoes.

i have a very sensitive gag reflex and cannot handle situations like this. it makes me sick to hear myself getting sick (and i think that perpetuates it, causing me to be sick til dry heaves), so you can only imaging how i felt when this was happening. i instantly reverted to a system that i developed when i was 10 or so when my brothers filet-o-fishs didn't agree with him. i closed my eyes and blocked my ears with my index fingers, nose with my pinkies. (note: 3 days later we had the same train, same care... same smell. guess the MBTA didn't care too much about sanitizing it... come on now, how about a little saw dust like they used to have in elementary school?)

i have a couple of problems with the event that took place...
1. the man did not even apologize to the guy he threw up on. something about that isn't right (which secured the theory in my head of him being hungover... as long as it wasn't contagious)... i would be soooo apologetic. he just walked off the train and never looked back. jerk.
2. if you were going to be sick on the train, or felt remotely queasy, wouldn't you get off at the stop before? why play russian roulette with this? why stand in the middle of the train car? why not stand near fresh air at the door?
3. why in god's name did he not say, "i'm going to be sick... move!" and try to make it to the door? i'm sure people would've dived onto others to get out of the way (and in that case, i would be okay with physical contact from a stranger)
4. why didn't he do everything in his power to get sick on himself? even a projectile vomiter, can't you tilt your head down a bit? puke into your bag? your hand, something??

this episode baffles me, and was absolutely surreal. i thought i was watching a movie. and i hope to God that i never see it happen again.

Saturday, January 15, 2005

so brandon and i went driving around a few weekends ago looking at potential churches we want to get married in. we aren't engaged yet, but i think it's coming soon *fingers crossed* so i've been doing lots of research on how to throw a gorgeous wedding and keeping the oh-so limited budget. so we were driving around (me coughing incessently with bronchitis) on every back road of the south shore looking for adorable old new england churches with a center aisle. i frequently jumped out of the car, peered through windows and snapped pics with brandon doing various unorthodox poses in each. we drove up this main street and through the trees we were like, "what is that? is that one?" and as we got closer, we both said, "that's the one." so, God willing, we will be able to be married in it. i'll be on the phone the day after he proposes. ;) so check it out.

http://www.firstparishcohasset.org/about/meetinghouse.htm

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

where are my ruby slippers...

if you're just tuning in, i have lots of free time during the day (see post "a day in the life of holly louise")...

today i have stumbled across a website that houses hundred of those cheesy forwards that people love to send en masse to every email address that they've ever had access to. Apparently, people think that i need to do a quiz with tigers and colors to determine who the important people are in my life (maybe this is a subliminal message to include them when answering the questions). i think that people who send these should really step back and assess what they are doing with their life - you have time to send a stupid forward, but you can't send a quick email to this individual that exudes the notion that you are able to practice social discourse like a normal human being. and i loooove how they all say that you must scroll ALL THE WAY down and make a wish, and then INSIST that you send it to 15 people or you will go straight to hell. and i guess by scrolling ALL THE WAY down and seeing random asterisk patterns that SOMEHOW molecules change and the atmosphere shifts to set off a chain reaction of events to make this "wish" happen. riiiiiight.

but while i despise these electronic annoyances, i am at the same time drawn to this website. i keep clicking on the links, hoping to read a witty one liner that will provide me with a brief moment of sunshine at my windowless desk(i sit around a corner next to the printer.. brown and white walls, poor lighting - i couldn't even tell you what time of day it is). i am mostly a sucker for the college forwards, as i miss the optimism college once alluded.

and, as a tribute to hanging out with the FSC girls last night, i am going to post a forward - the beauty of this is that you have the option to read it or not - i'm not accosting your email account.

it's really short. and i'm changing the title:

Why College is like Pre-School (Things You Can't Do Once You're A Member Of Corporate Americana)

1.You cry for your mother.
2.You cross the street without looking for cars.
3.Snack time is a necessity.
4.You bundle up for the outdoors without caring what you look like because everyone else looks as stupid as you do).
5.You stay at home and play games with your friends.
6.You wear your backpack on both shoulders.
7.You wear big mittens.
8.Playing in the snow is a legitimate activity.
9.You take naps.
10.You look forward to grilled cheese sandwiches.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

and we reach a new level of ridiculousness.

i cannot understand those big supid christmas mutants that people put on their lawns and roofs. you know the ones i mean. the ridiculously priced stay puft marshmallow man sized nylon crafted freaks of nature. http://store1.yimg.com/I/brandsonsale-store_1821_147326999

the only thing tackier than having one of these in your yard is having more than one of them in your yard. i drove by a house last night that had santa and the polar bear tied to opposite trees while an inflatable christmas tree was between them. i think it's a little sick attaching them to a tree, especially when dark rope or duct tape is being used - the family is literally holding santa and the coca cola bear hostage. i'd like to drive by a house and see santa's feet a few feet off the ground and a christmas light noose around his neck, hanging from the roof. the thought may be disturbing, but not any more disturbing than the creation of these monsters. what kid in their right mind thinks they are cool? and since when is a polar bear and shrek a christmas icon? an inflatable jesus - now that's hot. you'd think twice about purchasing one if you knew that after everyone goes to sleep they come to life and gather much like a teddy bear picnic.

remember that somebody became filthy rich because of these invading giants of joy.


Monday, December 13, 2004

one day in the life of holly louise.

you know your day isn't going to be quite right when you wake from a wonderfully fun dream only to find that it's 6am and you're still living at home. this thought is triggered by the first few conscious breaths i breathed this morning while simultaneously switching every button on the side of my alarm clock. this resulted in the incessant beeping subsiding, but the AM radio blaring in a foreign language. but this is not the problem. the problem is that i could see those first few breaths, it being sixty degrees in my room.

i turned on my iron and straightener, then scrambled back into bed. i justify this with the fact that these appliances take time to heat up, and there's really no reason to be out of bed waiting in a sixty degree room with only a tank top and boxers on. clearly this was an irrational justification because i fell asleep for another 20 minutes and ended up dragging myself to my car twenty minutes later, instant quaker oatmeal in hand. "i am not a morning person" is really an understatement. i did manage to snag a candy cane on my way past the christmas tree.

the hour train ride reinforced my need to move closer to boston. the woman that smells like cigarettes and mothballs mixed with lilac perfume sat in front of us again. why should my boyfriend and i have to move? she's the one that smells. When we get to south station we are herded like cattle off the platforms and into the station. i've always wanted to moo during this daily ritual, but it's too early and people are usually hostile.

you're right rick, the negativity in this town DOES suck. take the other night, for example. i'm walking from my building towards south station, in crosswinds and pouring rain the whole way and as i near south station with hundreds of other commuters, i hear "thanks!" (sarcastically). i keep walking and close my umbrella only to hear, "thanks a lot hon, you hit me in the face!" i turned and said "oh, i'm sorry" (sincerely). she said "yeah right"... as she walked by me i said "all i can say is i'm sorry" and a woman near me ( loudly so the mean lady could hear) said "yeah like you meant to hit someone with your umbrella." first of all, this lady must have been walking right up my behind to have been hit with my umbrella. second of all, that is definitely what i like to do for fun - stand around south station with my umbrella and try to poke peoples eyes out. yeaaah. but i digress.

so brandon and i cross the street and he leaves to go into his building. we have our morning kiss (which is the highlight of my day) and then i trudge down the street to my "i can't belive it's not work" job. i stop at starbucks to buy an overpriced chai latte (a habit i really have to break) and spit my gum out in a trash barrell outside my building.

i mozy into "work" around 9am and make my oatmeal and bagel. maybe i have a few photocopies to make, maybe i have to mail out a drawing. in the words of Peter Gibbons from Office Space, "Yeah, I just stare at my desk, but it looks like I'm working. I do that for probably another hour after lunch too, I'd say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work."

today i was lucky - i was told to walk a roll of drawings to west st. a street sweeper made a pass at me, another guy asked me if i was calling him, when i had my phone out to call my mum. i was having so much fun i contemplated playing hookey for the rest of the day.

when i got back to the office, i did a few equations and plugged them into a database - this took all of 20 minutes. i ate my lunch and now i'm currently twirling in my chair, waiting until 4:45 when i'll be getting ready to leave and someone will throw some last minute mundane task that "absolutely MUST be done NOW" that they could've had me work on hours before. i've had so much of nothing to do that i almost get insulted when they ask me to do something... "can't you see that i am busy here? i'm designing my own engagement ring!" or "give me a few minutes, i want to finish this cryptogram."

i really feel like i am moving backwards in life. i better write that great american novel soon. meanwhile, if anyone needs a great organizer and multitasker... i'm a whiz at excel. ;)