My 2 vices in life...

With the exception of being a 26-year-old nail biter [it's a horrible habit, I know...but at least I am not a coke addict or anorexic or something more serious...my mom and grandma always used to say, "You'll never have a boyfriend with nails like those..." And did I ever hear a boyfriend complain about my nail length?? Um... nope...], there are two vices that I have in my life. Actually, I don't even know if they would be considered vices, but they are two things that I absolutely love.

1) Tabloids!
Ok, I never purchase tabloids because I am ultimately against what they stand for. For instance, poor Lark Voorhies [Lisa Turtle from Saved by the Bell] was accused of being a cocaine addict. I don't think she really is...the girl is a Jehovah's Witness!!! Tabloids perpetuate false stories...and more false stories are created because people buy the tabloids and "want more!" Ok, so I am "ethically" against tabloids... However, I am a huge fan of fiction and creative writing---and tabloids fit into that category! From an entertainment standpoint, i love tabloids... Also, I've always managed to know someone in my life who actually spends their money on that garbage. After they finish reading the magazines, they pass them on to me. I read them, get entertained, but can sleep safely at night knowing that I have not [monetarily] contributed to the tabloids. I know reading them is almost comparable to buying them though...oh well.

Carol is my current neighbor--- she is unemployed [she got fired from the foodstore for taking "unauthorized" deli cuts during her shift]. I have to hear her and her husband fighting all the time.... midnight...7am...any time is yelling time. The only redeeming fact about our neighbor relationship is that she is my source for free Star and National Enquirer magazines. Who knows; maybe she even knows that I can hear her and her husband yelling. The tabloids are like my "keep quiet/don't call the police on us even though there could be domestic abuse charges filed" bribe.

I am totally all over the Jon Benet Ramsey case. Even though John Mark Karr has been "cleared," he still could have had involvement. Just because his DNA isn't at the murder site does not mean he wasn't involved. No matter what the truth is, this is clearly one f-ed up individual. And of course as a crazy individual, Karr fascinates me. What a weirdo... supposedly, his family has sold rights to make a movie and book in the near future... I'd see the movie... I love MOWs.... movies of the week....

I'm also interested in the Britney Spears pregnancy. The photos from Harper's Bazaar's most recent issue....wow! I give her credit. And I actually think the photos are quite well-done...although her hair looks tacky when it is dyed black....

2] My second vice: hurricane/tornado/bad weather coverage
I'm addicted to it--- weather coverage! It doesn't even have to be detrimental weather, general weather coverage interests me. Channel 61: Know before you go! Fox Five's weather on the fives. Mike Woods. Storm Fields. Dave Price. Al Roker [he does weather, I think]. I just love watching weather forecasts. Despite all of the time that I put into watching weather coverage, I still don't understand the difference between fronts, barometric pressure, etc.

Ok, it isn't like I am a bad person but... I am interested in the coverage of Ernesto...and if it hits land, I will be watching the TV. I know that's horrible... because if it makes landfall, people will be injured or even killed. But the perils of nature are fascinating.

I love hail too...there hasn't been a hail storm in so long. I remember when I was a little kid. I ran outside during a hail storm and collected hail in a plastic tumbler. I proceeded to put the tumbler into the freezer; it remained there for months. Stupidest idea ever. What I was trying to do or accomplish, I have no idea.

Crossing my fingers for a hailstorm....during the schoolday so I can get the little brats to be quiet and we can all enjoy the splendor of pounding hail :)

Anyone can be an artist??

It's no secret that this summer has been the summer of movie watching for me. Most of the movies have either been documentaries or realistic films, the kind that have open-endings, with the screen slowly turning black, and with obscure music in the background.

Recently, I saw two HBO documentaries from awhile back: Naked States and Naked World. Both documentaries center on Spencer Tunick, a photographer who is known for taking pictures of massive groups of nude people. The people pose in front of national buildings or sometimes they are just lying in a large field. Tunick says that he views the groups of nudes as "part of the landscape." I don't know---the art seems kind of gimmicky. I mean, there's the artist George Rodrigue who is well-known for his blue dog paintings. He basically paints the same blue dog over and over. It's iconic; people see that blue dog and know that it is Rodrigue's work that they are looking at. But is it art?

I guess I would see Rodrigue's work as more art-worthy than Tunick's. Somehow Tunick's photos appeal to me...you squint your eyes and you don't see naked bodies; you just see flesh tones embedded into the photo. You unsquint your eyes and suddenly 1,000 nude bodies are before you. Most of the people who pose are white, or so it seems when you look at the photo...or is it that all of the bodies just merge into the flesh tone that we describe as "white"?

What makes me laugh is that in Naked States, there is a point where Tunick seeks out Phish fans as possible people to photograph. At a Phish concert, he extends an invitation to photograph a group of nude people...hoping to have at least 1,000 people show up. 2,000 people showed up... this was a Phish concert...it made sense.

I think the photos are cool to look at but... 2 things come to mind when I look at them:
1] the people strangely resemble piles of carcasses
2] Tunick's art kind of reminds me of the Magic Eye fad of the late 1990s...

Damn-- I need to come up with some gimmicky art and make tons of money. Then I can sit around all day, read, and drink milkshakes:)

Dull day, but autumn beckons!

I could feel it in myself this afternoon--- that feeling that I don't want to go out at all. Despite having gym clothing in my bag, I drove directly home [well, actually I made a detour for Mexican food...eating can be a recreational activity too!]. As soon as I got home, I watched Gus Van Sant's Last Days. That is seriously the full title of the film. Gus Van Sant always has this need to have his name in front of the title--as if we, the viewers, won't see his name during the opening credits listed as director.

Last Days is "fictional" but it based on the last few days of Kurt Cobain's life. It was okay. I thought Van Sant would have delved into Cobain's real life and used that as a basis for a lot of the movie, but it didn't seem that way. Needless to say, this wasn't a particularly chipper flick.

I proceeded to fall asleep; I wasn't physically tired, but I think my body just knew I needed sleep. This happens sometimes, when I don't feel my happiest. I woke up a few hours later, watched some TV, and here I am. I detest days like this; they feel like such a waste. At least I know that tomorrow will be better. I went outside to take the trash out and the weather was mild--- I can feel that autumn is on its way. With autumn comes fall festivals, apple picking, and the need to put an extra sheet or blanket on the bed. I love it.

Grammar Rage

I don’t care if you’re working for some indie publishing house or something well-known like Random House or Knopf. When I read a book from your company, there should not be grammar mistakes that an 8^th grader (well, some) could correct.

I finished my cheesy chick-lit title, 20 Times a Lady. It was entertaining, despite an incredibly cheesy ending. I think the book’s ending actually made me smile for a limited amount of time, so I can’t complain too much.

What bothered me most about this book was the onslaught of grammatical errors. I got so annoyed that after I encountered the second mistake, I began bending the corners of subsequent pages with errors. This bending of the pages would allow me to go back, at a later point, and refer to these errors.

So, here I go. I know it is very nerdy to actually mark down grammatical errors found in a book, but these errors were soooo obvious. 3 of the 4 errors are essentially the same mistake, but I still think they count as separate mistakes. They should count as separate mistakes; this was a nationally published book.

“Hey, do you think this thing has anti-lock breaks?” p. 65 [AGH…]

“You’re dog likes me, so you should, too.” p. 84 [less than 20 pages later? The confusion that people have over your and you’re aggravates me; this aggravation is increased exponentially when a copy editor makes the mistake]

“ ‘You heard me!’ I scream. ‘You’re dog liked me better! He did!” p.106
[the silliness of this book is amplified by the specific passages that I am quoting. Again, another your/you’re mistake. Y-O-U-R--- it shows possession! Argh…]

“ ‘You’re actions affect other people.’ ” p. 223 [how do they have the correct use of affect but the wrong use of your?]

At this point, I truly need to pack my bags, make my way over to England, and have a cup of tea with Lynn Truss. She'd understand.

Appearance Updates

The sun is glorious today! I am sitting outside in a “beach chair;” the beach chair is on the concrete sidewalk of my apartment complex. Additionally, I am on my laptop. It must be a sight to see… I don’t know--- do people sit outside and “enjoy” nature while getting technology involved? Seems like contrasting things that are mingling…

I’m outside, trying to even my tan/sunburn. I went to the beach at Seaside Heights on Saturday. I applied a large amount of sunblock to my face; the whole sunburn/peeling effect is very unattractive, especially when it occurs on your face. I wanted to get some color on my arms and legs, so I left them sans-sunblock. Well- the result was that my legs got burrrrrnnned[I hardly ever wear shorts so the last time my legs saw daylight was probably in 6th grade, with the exception of my crazy-cargo-shorts-era in freshman year of college]. My arms generally have a bit of color to them; the pink collided with the previous semi-tan color, making my arms and orangeish hue. So now I am outside, trying to balance everything out. This will end badly, I’m sure.

I got a haircut yesterday—a hairstyle actually. The hairdresser who always does my hair, Donna, understands my beauty language: “Um…cut off whatever is dead… I want layers but minimal layers…nothing too noticeable.” Yesterday she asked, “Cut it like usual?” and I replied, “Yes.” It is wonderful…she understands my crazy concept of beauty and low-maintenance haircuts. Well, I came home with a new style, I’d say. I haven’t had my hair cut since April so tons of “dead stuff” needed to be cut- it’s now a little longer than chin length, with lots of layers; the layers are definitely noticeable. I’m loving it. I feel like I look different. I do have an upcoming concern though--- the first washing. Oh, I hate it. You try doing the hair on your own and it looks cruddy. I think that the beauty industry gives special appliances and products to hair salons. No matter what you previously looked like, once the hairdresser uses those special products on you, you look amazing. You leave the salon and feel like a new person, maybe even compare yourself to a movie star. Then you come home and style it yourself…you suddenly resemble Don King or Christina Aguilera [the "bad" Christina Aguilera, like when she was in the "Lady Marmalade" video].

I've already searched google for "celebrities" and "bad hair days;" there are tons of websites devoted to this subject matter. If I style my hair tomorrow and it looks atrocious, the first thing I will do is check out one of those sites:)

Michissa?? New name in the making??

Today my neighbor greeted me with, “Hey, Melissa!” This is one of the name-perils that I have experienced throughout my life: the mix-up between Michelle and Melissa. I don’t quite understand it—both names begin with “M” and involve the letter “l.” Michelle has a soft “shhh” sound while Melissa has a harsher “ssss” sound.

I recall working at Borders. Every English major has either worked at a Borders or a library. Try playing “6 Degrees of Borders.” You’ll be able to find connections to Borders employee through 6 or less people that you know. 1 degree: I know John; he worked at Borders. Even if John didn’t work at Borders, I still could make the connection: I know John; John knows Justin; Justin worked at Borders.

Back to the Borders anecdote…My boss, Rudy, called for me to do some stupid task…probably shelf-reading or something. He got irked when I didn’t respond but… he had called out to me, “Melissa!” It was a great moment. When he asked, “Why didn’t you answer?,” I got to give an acceptable smartass response: “Because my name isn’t Melissa.”

It’s gotten to the point where the name mistake doesn’t bother me that much; I will respond if someone calls me Melissa. It’s just incredibly annoying.

Anti-climactic evening

Last night, John and I went to the NJ State Fair in Sussex county. I was so excited; the last time I had been to a fair was a few years ago… I anticipated the smells of various foods in the air, the bright lights of all the rides, the fun (and generally rigged) games, and most of all, the wide array of people walking around.

It took us a little over an hour to arrive at the fair… traffic on route 15 was terrible. An entertaining thing I saw was in front of the Chatterbox. They were having a car show and this woman had on one of those t-shirts that has a silkscreened svelte body wearing a bikini. I haven't seen one of those shirts in so long! But the traffic!!! ...literally, the entire state of NJ was headed for this fair. My enthusiasm could not be disturbed- I bided time in the car by looking at the various houses and thinking, “Wow, how long would it take to mow that lawn? At least it would be good exercise.” There was even a message spray painted on this abandoned building: “To Tony and [someone else I forget the name]: Please send me to heaven.” So bizarre.

When we got to the fair, the admissions set-up was so illogical. We walked past a stand that clearly said FRESH SQUEEZED LEMONADE and a woman yelled over to us, “Hey! You have to buy tickets.” We proceeded to pay the $10 admission, which I feel is a bit “steep.” Then she told us to give our admission tickets to the “man in red,” who was about 3 inches from where the lemonade/admissions stand was. Complete ludicrousness. Couldn't the woman at the lemonade stand do the ticket-taking at the same time?

The fair was ok. I enjoyed all of the animals. Magnus was this giant grey rabbit who looked like he could kick Flash’s ass. The alpacas were pretty cool to look at: they make me think of a mixture of a poodle and a camel. It was odd because nearly every animal we looked at had earned a ribbon of some kind. I guess they figure you deserve some kind of award if you raise animals or livestock in Jersey.

John made a good point as we walked around: “Fairs are for family and kids.” It isn’t like I am at the point in my life where I think I am old or that I am “too old” to do certain things, but there was a certain validity in what he was saying. I saw tons of families there, little kids getting too excited about the cheesy fair rides. I saw a lot of teenagers together, buying band t-shirts, jewelry, and other stuff. On the line to the bathroom [women’s line being astoundingly long; men’s line non-existent] was a teenaged couple. The boy and girl were doing that gratuitous making out, the kind that you do because you can---and because it tends to piss off adults. I mean, this boy was literally vacuuming the girl’s face with his lips. When she was finally next on line for the women’s bathroom, he veered over to the lineless men’s bathroom.

When John and I first dated, we went to the fair near my hometown. It was fun… we went on the swings ride together and held hands. I remember him passing his gum over to me on that ride too… hey, if you can exchange kisses, then why not gum? I looked at the pictures from that fair the other day. My lips were bright blue for some reason…probably some blue raspberry Icee or something.

Last night was just kind of disappointing. We ended up wallowing in our disappointment by eating “fair food”: zeppoles, roasted almonds, and a venison burger---unconventional fair food, I suppose. Then when I got home, my stomach hurt…

Last night, John asked, “How come everything that we go to lately sucks?” I wouldn’t say that everything I have done lately sucks, but when I’ve tried to do things that I have previously loved [fairs, for example], the evening just ends up disappointing me. I guess as you get older, certain things are not as fun as they used to be… that’s kind of sad though. We want to go to the Renaissance Fair in NY soon… haven’t ever been to that… I plan to have utter fun… maybe come home with a cheesy princess hat too, after wearing it all day at the Ren-Fair...We'll see.

Giddy like a 12-year old girl!

My hands are still shaking… I went to see Pete Yorn do an in-store performance at Vintage Vinyl. I’ve liked him since his debut album came out in 20o1. I went to see him at the Birch Hill, which has since closed down. Of course---any place I like eventually closes or goes out of business. Anyway, my hands were shaking on the drive down to Fords. I could feel my heart beating super fast; it still is. I guess I was a little star struck, one could say. I’ve never met a musician in person before. I’ve met authors and poets before: BJ Ward, Donald Hall, Caroline Cooney, and David LuBar…but this was no comparison!

He played songs from his new album, and a cover of a Warren Zevon song, which I grew to love within 5 seconds of Pete Yorn playing it: "Splendid Isolation."

I want to live alone in the desert
I want to be like Georgia O'Keefe
I want to live on the Upper East Side
And never go down in the street
Splendid Isolation
I don't need no one

All while he was playing, I couldn’t take my eyes off of “The Mom.” “Mom” is a label that I give to any woman in her late 30s, who has the “Mom” haircut…usually a short hair-do, something that is so short that you think the woman will never have the ability to grow long hair again. I feel guilty for all of the women who I give the label "Mom" to who, in fact, are not Moms but just women who like low maintenance hair-dos. This Mom was rocking out to Pete, swaying and moving all around; she even made drumming motions with her hands. I just thought she was really cool--- uninhibited. The people around me, including myself, were standing there---we were swaying a little, nodding our heads softfully, but any spectator could tell we were restraining ourselves. I think the wildest I got was when I tapped my feet to the beat of the songs. I strive to be like “The Mom.”

After the performance, I got to meet Pete! Still, my hands were shaking. It’s just such an awesome feeling to enjoy someone’s artistic work from a distance, and then actually meet them.

Additionally, today's visit to Vintage Vinyl introduced me to a new artist...Before the in-store performance, a cover of Echo and the Bunnymen’s “Killing Moon” was playing. Me and another woman inquired about the song..apparently it is from a Grant Lee Phillips album, on which he covers other 80s songs, most of them on the borderline of obscure. I bought the CD and so did the other woman. It reminded me of the scene from Hi Fidelity where Rob plays Beta Band’s “Dry the Rain;” before playing it, he predicts that he will sell several copies of the album…because it is such an addictive song.

Coincindentally enough, the guy who told us about the Grant Lee Philiips album was also named Rob. [cue the creepy Twilight Zone music]….

On the drive home, I also turned my head to the right, in order to look at the person driving in the lane beside me. He looked back at the same time. I love when that happens. An instance like that is mentioned in one of Nicholson Baker's books, Fermata or maybe Mezzanine...but I love moments like that.

scattered photos

My Uncle Jim used to say that he'd have a few years worth of pictures on one roll of film. I think that most men tend to be "like that"- not really into taking pictures. Maybe it's because women tend to be the photo snappers; guys just assume that we'll complete the job of taking photos. My uncle also used to say, "Why do I need photos when I have memories?"

My mom, on the other hand, used to be obsessed with taking photos. Case in point: she'd bring us to theme parks and make us pose for embarrassing pictures in front of statues. I recall once having to sit on a seal statue at Sea World. At the time [I was maybe in 5th or 6th grade], I was mortified: "Mom, don't make me! This is dumb." Now though, at age 26, I'd probably pose for a goofy pic like that. It's interesting how we try to grow up quickly when we're young but then when we're older we try to "go back."

I used to be very disciplined when it came to getting photos developed, putting them into albums, and labeling them... no crazy, super detailed captions- just the basic information. Maybe here and there I'd use one of those dopey photo "talking balloon" stickers.

Fast forward to now. I just spent about an hour going through tons of photo envelopes, trying to pinpoint the year and occasion of the photos. These were photos from 2003- to present. You can certainly tell how happy someone is feeling in life by looking at their photo collections. Where there are missing photos, there was unhappiness. I hardly have any photos from 2003-2004...a whole year!! 2005 is pretty scant too. 2006, I'm back with being like a tourist: tons of photos!

I only put a small amount of the photos in my album...it's complicated to explain. I have tons of pictures from the summer of 2005 and want to make an album for that...I was too lazy to start that this evening.

The whole way that people arrange photos fascinates me.

Some people put photos in those "photo boxes," categorizing the photos by years and dates through use of index tabs. I hate this method. Photos should be put out for display... Boxes do not seem to facilitate that need.

Some people are into scrapbooking. Scrapbooking is fine but I think people go over the top with it. Sometimes I think that people buy the borders/themed pages before a certain event occurs; then they try to purposely make that event occur. "Jimmy, we are going to have a jungle themed birthday party. I need to use up my African Safari scrapbooking borders and stickers."

Some people rely on keeping all of their photos online. Lunatics!!! I am now in the process of entering 2006 and buying a digital camera. Believe me, every photo I take will be developed into paper form.

My uncle's wife puts labels on the sides of her photo albums... an example being: Book #29, May 2005- June 2006. It is awesome to look at her bookshelf... she has books 14 through 29 sitting side by side. Apprently, books 1 through 13 are in storage. How awesome is that? Having 29 books worth of photos to show your experiences in life?!

Thinking back to experiences in life, I know the point when I was sad [the missing photos era]. It was when I first started teaching ---- I felt unconfident and felt like I was not making a difference, no matter how hard I tried. Now, 4 years later, I am much more confident...I still question whether or not I am "making a difference."

One thing's for sure though--I don't want to revert back to my photoless existence. I can't wait to get my digital camera:)

gym observations

I've often thought that I should write a book called In the Gym: A Collection of Essays Unrelated to Exercise or Physical Health. When I'm @ the gym, I seem to be so observant of everything going on around me. I mean, I still get in a good workout but I guarantee that I am paying much more attention to my surroundings than others are.

A family friend told me that a friend told her that she should start an exercise regimen by running for 12 minutes straight; then every week, she should "up" the running time by one minute. I usually run according to distances...once I reach a mile, I stop...even if I feel I have tons of energy left, I see the 1.0 mi on the treadmill and I stop. Tonight, I tried the 12 minute suggestion. 12 minutes was hard... a mile usually takes me an astoundingly sloooow 11 minutes...how could running for one extra minute make such a difference? Je ne sais pas.

My Ipod is helping me though... Had some Queens of the Stone Age playing, another band that I love; they broke up awhile ago. Every band that i start having an interest in breaks up shortly after my interest in them begins. It's so annoying.

Ok, tonight's observations:

1] Crossword puzzle guy...
Ok, so i am "taken," have been for 6 1/2 years...but I can still look at other guys. It's really fun:) I noticed this guy on the cycling machine... nice watch [why wear that when working out], sweatpants [in the middle of August?!?!], glasses, and... a crossword puzzle in one hand. This mystified me... working on a crossword while exercising---that's one thing I haven't seen before. And it is simple things like that that can make an ordinary guy suddenly appear attractive to me. As soon as I saw that crossword puzzle in hand, I thought: that guy's cute. I'm an odd one.

2] The grunting treadmill guy...
There was this big guy on a treadmill, BIG... I guess one might call him "fat," but he looked pretty strong too... He was in the weightlifting area for a bit and then came over to the treadmills. All I know was that suddenly I heard this LOUD grunting noise; I had my Ipod on full volume and still heard the grunt. I proceeded to turn my head to the right, as did everyone else that was near me. The big guy just made this random grunt; it was weird. At this point, it wasn't like he was jogging up a storm or anything... I liked how everyone around me turned their heads in unison.

3] The cheesy Dodge Rams in the parking lot...
As I was leaving, i noticed two Dodge Rams, side by side in the parking lot. Both had fancy rims on them; both had these showy blueish headlights. Both cars had their headlights on and left at the same time. The first thing I thought was, "How gay! [gay as in the immature way that kids use it...to mean lame or stupid]. " I just thought it was so silly... I mean, the trucks probably belong to some high school kids...I probably didn't see them throughout the duration of my workout because they were in the weightlifting area of the gym, where I never travel to. I just thought the idea of matching trucks was cheesy. I guess it is comparable to how some teen girls [and adults too] get similar purses or jeans...

On an endnote, I wonder when the crazy redheaded lady and I will meet again. She covers the time/calorie counter on the treadmill with a towel. She holds on to the treadmill bars for dear life and then proceeds to run like a lunatic. She runs at a speed that is way too fast for her; I await the day when the treadmill bar will fly off and hit someone [probably me..somehow whenever I exercise, she always ends up exercising on the machine in front of me]. This lady makes me laugh. She probably is a little too obsessed with working out and might have some "issues," but she amuses me:)

use of plethoria...

I was testing out the search functions on blogger.com and searched by keyword "plethoria." a bunch of blog entries came up, some of mine included. the funny thing was, when i clicked on the links, bloggers were using the word plethorIA as if it actually existed.

examples:

"visit at your own risk, you may never come back here, because of the embarrasing
plethoria of riches there."

"We have a plethoria of interested onlookers ready to provide all kinds of support and wisdom, we've just forgotten to ask-- just as we've forgotten how to find an answer in a rainstorm."

"Lovely Anne has a plethoria of persuasive platitudes to play with...{today i am using p words} Life is short. Make fun of it."

"Masterminded by their founder Peter Dabasi, Kolinda invites you to partake in their sometimes insane, sometimes beautiful, sometimes hypnotic world of Hungarian folk and gypsy prog which includes a plethoria of exotic instruments, ..."

Ok, so i created the blogger name plethoria to be "witty"- i know it isnt the most clever thing on earth. that's ok. but these people are actually using the word as if it is plethoria. am i a lit snob if i think it is funny? like...how could they not know the word is plethora?

but then again, i recall a time i was student teaching. one of the vocab words for the week was "permeated." i had seen the word several times in my life but had never actually heard it said aloud. i proceeded to say to the students, "ok our first word is permeated [i pronounced like PER- MEAT- ED, exactly like that]. one of the smart kids raised his hand and said, "isnt is
per- me- A- ted"? Quickly, i said, "yes, yes, but there are alternate pronounciations." i didnt want to seem like an idiot. but now i feel guilty- there are probably at least 15 kids walking around new jersey saying the word PER-MEAT-ED.

maybe a similar botched teaching experience occurred and made plethorIA an actual word.

on a side note, the sound of fake word "plethoria" reminds me of that 80s song, "gloria." we could substitute words and make a whole new hit:

You really don't remember, was it something that he said?
all the voices in your head calling, Plethoria?
Plethoria, don't you think you're fallin'?
If everybody wants you, why isn't anybody callin'?
don't you  have to answer
Leave them hangin' on the line, oh-oh-oh, calling Plethoria
Plethoria (Plethoria), I think they got your number (Plethoria)
I think they got the alias (Plethoria) that you've been living
under (Plethoria)

Laura Branigan, singer of the 80s hit, could probably stand to make a few extra bucks.

my favorite new highway

Since 1997 [the year I got my driver’s license], I have pledged my allegiance to the Garden State Parkway ]. Living in “south Jersey,” the Parkway was a necessity. Nothing fun existed in Bayille so you always had to drive places. Also- the Parkway was the only big highway nearby. The idea of being able to drive 70mph on a roadway was fascinating to me-- and the parkway allowed me to experience that fascination. Sometimes I’d drive on the parkway "just because", to pass the time. This preference for the Parkway was temporarily suppressed during the months of late-June, July, and August – when the bennies would take over the parkway.

When I came up to North Jersey to go to college, I somehow managed to go 3 full years without ever actually driving on 287…this seems like an impossibility since 287 links to so many places, but somehow I achieved this 287-avoidance accomplishment. Eventually, I “Had” to go onto 287… thus breaing the 3 year boycott.

I felt indifferent to 287...it was convenient...it was fast... but the little "287" icon always appeared on the TV news; there was always an accident somewhere.

Some roadways did not just provoke indifference; some highways made hatred surge. For example, I hate route 22 [it’s crazy!!!!! cars are going by so quickly… they should incorporate route 22 into some type of Survivor TV show]. Also-- route 46 [I like 46, in general…but right past the willowbrook mall is where my hatred begins…they’ve had the same construction going on for 4 years…plus, no one understands the concept of yielding…]. i also dislike route 10-- i think it is the state's goal to make certain that every piece of land on route 10 is covered...theyre even building a housing development in the whippany area...whoever would move into a complex off of route 10 would have to be a hermit and never leave their house...EVER.

Now I have been in the north Jersey area for a total of 8 years…wow, about 1/3 of my life- hard to believe time has passed so quickly. I have since experienced other highways and have a new favorite.

Drumroll, please...

I now pledge my allegiance to route 280. I love it! first off, I have yet to be on it when there was an accident. 2ndly, I rarely see police cars patrolling that highway…this leads me to force my Corolla to speed. And lastly, there’s this part of 280 that is really steep, moving downhill--it's somewhere around the exits for the Oranges. They even have a sign posted that trucks should shift to lower gears. My intense love for route 280 was reached about 3 weeks ago. I drove on 280 east, had gotten to the downhill/steep point, and had elvis costello’s my aim is true playing…I think the track was “Welcome to the Working Week.” My foot didn’t even have to touch the gas pedal…the car just drove itself down the highway… the music was blasting and the window was open. A/C never fits the moment when you’re speeding down a highway and blasting music.

Since that moment, I have decided that route 280 is my new favorite.

To end on a cheesy note, [i read this somewhere]: Ever wonder why you park on a driveway and drive on a parkway????

"Hot, hot, hot!"

Today's weather reminds me of two things:

1] that stupid Buster Poindexter song "Hot, Hot, Hot!" When I was growing up, Wawa had this huge ad campaign featuring that song: "Get to Wawa when you're hot, hot , hot." I even remember these horrible neon green Wawa hats being given out for free at the county fair, all to advertise "Hot, hot, hot" and how Wawa was just that.

2] John's parents' neighbors' little boy, Matthew. He used to say the phrase "hot, hot, hot" in this fassssssssst but soft voice..the statement didn't have to be said during hot weather or anything; he just said it all the time. It was adorable. John and I now say the phrase frequently...and again, it is never said in relation to anything particular...

This weather is gross...

Tonight I am finishing my paper and I am doing it "old skool" style by going to the library for their awesome industrial air conditioning. The A/C at the library was actually my first motivation for reading during the summerwhen I was younger...I'd ride my bike about a mile, reach the library, and stay there allllll afternoon....