urban area ahead

I remember being hesitant to start this blog for a number of reasons: one being laziness, which disappeared when I realized how quickly one can go through three seasons of The Office on DVD, and one was the memory of The Open Diary Chronicles from middle school.  One would think that the image of twelve year olds writing outside of school time would be a triumph over a preteen culture that favors, at least in my day, smoking mom's cigarettes and smuggling after-school snacks out of an unsuspecting 7/11.  Unfortunately, even nerdy twelve year olds are still twelve year olds, and what we wrote in our Open Diaries became fuel for the petty but vicious faceoffs that stopped just short of a Sharks/Jets debacle (a lot of us were singers and/or dancers; it might've actually been a pretty good show).  

I'd like to think that ten years of maturity would allow me to post a blog without fear of regret; then again, my mom constantly reminds me that I should never write down anything, anywhere, that I wouldn't want everyone I know to ever read ("Remember the 'I hate Angela' Club that read your fourth grade diary aloud on the playground?"  "Vividly." Ah, sibling rivalries...).

So the bottom line is, this blog will include a moderate amount of editing; to be fair, though, who really doesn't revise their own life in their head?  It's nearly impossible for us to understand what's going on with a hundred percent accuracy; sometimes we'd be lucky to pass with a C.   I wouldn't count this as a failure though; from what I've seen, Josh Ritter explains it best: Seems like everybody else could see the things you never did/If you could yourself you'd probably have never made it through the things you did/With your heart still beating.  I think sometimes we need a certain amount of blindness to help us see that there's still a little bit of hope, or whatever you call it, that makes the effort to keep going an effort worth making (I also think music is good for that, too).

On another note, I've decided that it's useful for a girl to have some interesting skills, and I've decided I want to spend some time this summer cultivating a few.  I once read in Cosmo that every girl should know how to make an omelette and change a tire.  I know how to make a nasty good omelette, mostly so I could feed myself for the last two years of college, so that's good.  I'm not going to have a car in Boston, so that second skill would be a waste of brain space.  I started college with fair skills in Madden 2000, which were good for making friends with guys on the hall until I learned that men are born with an innate ability to manipulate tiny digital figures on a screen with a joystick, and my poor '00 Ravens lost countless blowout matches to even the lowly Bengals and Chargers.  

After watching my friends in a marathon game of Guitar Hero, I decided that could be a thing I could be good at; however, after trying to get bonus star points during my first go at "Mississippi Queen", I hit myself hard in the chin and subsequently gave up on that dream.  I've also failed at knitting, and I don't have the patience to maintain what were once above-average artistic skills.  So I guess part of this summer will be to discover the skill I want, then master it.  After all, most people can read and write, and that's pretty much all I've got at this point--not exactly a crowd-pleaser at parties.  This is another reason guys have it so much easier: the latest issue of Men's Health implores that every man should learn how to build a sand castle.  Didn't we all learn that around the age of eight?  Maybe MH should be more concerned with teaching the fellas how to put a beach umbrella in the sand so it doesn't attack unsuspecting sunbathers when the wind picks up.

See you later----Ang.

worth the $.99 on itunes: "the greatest man that ever lived" by weezer...if you were ever a weezer fan, this will make your day better.  rivers throws out some gangster rap then breaks into a falsetto that makes you question what he's been doing for the last three years.

notice i never once made a bad joke about ramen noodles

I'm not entirely sure that the best time to start a blog is one month after graduation, two months before myself and everything that sort of matters to me is shipped to another state, and five hours before I wake up and drive to the beach.  But then, I'm not entirely sure that my timing is ever terribly efficient or even appropriate, and I'm pretty sure that's never bothered me before. Surprisingly though, after four years of turning into neurotic, narcissistic English major at a judgmental liberal arts college, this is actually one of the first "papers" I've ever started writing before midnight (it's 11:59).  

I blame this not on the corrupting influence of the "real world" but rather, on boredom from unemployment and understimulation, a quiet and recently kitten-less household, and a desire to get off the couch to check out some of the songs I downloaded this morning (iTunes is killing my credit score).  Besides, I never really expected the real world to include my dad using up my designer shampoo and a bedroom that still proudly displays my softball trophies and my middle school panoramic photo.  In my real world, I at least thought my bookshelf could hold all of my books.

But, there will be time for such wild dreams--that time is September.  Right now a new Red Sox hat, which sits on my desk (see: flat place to put things that have no place) mocking the Ray Lewis and Natty Boh posters hanging un-permanently from sticky-tack on the walls, is the only thing keeping my head, so to speak, in the game.  I really believed, once, in an America where a cute (yeah, I said it) blonde with a college degree and several summers of restaurant experience in her little back pocket could find a waitress gig in a big city like Baltimore--I am now terrified for my future.  My ability to feed myself (preferably with sushi, and a glass or two of fairly decent white wine) is for the first time not entirely grounded in reality.  

But like I said, it's not time for the real world yet; I still have two years of grad school and generous let's-try-not-to-let-our-skinny-daughter-starve-or-have-to-eat-fast-food checks from my parents to look forward to.  Oh, and that beach trip that's coming up in four and a half hours; I need to work on my "unemployment tan" (thanks Carinne), lest my friends think I've actually gotten myself a job or hobby.

So that was fun for a first try...maybe we'll meet again----Ang.

worth the $.99 on itunes:  'just like heaven' by the watson twins.  a lazy, bluesy cover of a cure favorite.  and they're twins, which is the best kind of people to be.