third blog's a charm.

Where the Platonic Things Are

Yaaawn. Why does staying in bed all day make me feely sleepier than when I actually get out and do stuff?

Saturday I wandered around in the rain for hours, did a little shopping and visited my sister at the coffee shop she works in. Despite the rain I had a nice time – returned something to one store and picked up a new sweater and shirt at another. Before I knew it, it was almost 6pm, so I rushed home to shower and get ready to meet Starbucks Boy at the movie theater at 7.

When I left my apartment it was barely drizzling, so I started walking up to Union Square. A few minutes into my walk, the downpour began. Ugh. So after walking about 15 minutes with nothing but my tiny umbrella to shield me from the drenching rain, I arrived. SB had texted me at 6:40 saying he was just getting on a train, from the Upper West Side, so I decided to go find seat before it got too crowded. The place was PACKED, and I ended up sitting in the last row of the balcony seating. SB finally arrived about 5 minutes before “Where the Wild Things Are” was supposed to start, so we only chatted for a few minutes before the lights dimmed.

I wasn’t too excited to see WTWTA ever since Doug told me how much he hated itt earlier in the week, so I was happily surprised. It definitely didn’t seem like a kids movie – it was too dark, and the Wild Things had very adult personalities. Still, the movie made me feel like I was a kid, and who doesn’t want that? Overall, it was definitely worth going to see (which is more than I would say for “New York, I Love You”, which Jspo and I saw earlier in the week).

As we left the theater, SB asked if I wanted to get something to eat. I wasn’t quite ready to head home, so I agreed, and we headed over to 2^nd avenue. I suggested Veselka, this 24hr (Ukranian?) diner on 9^th street. If you’ve ever seen “Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist”, they eat there.  We both ordered breakfast food (banana pancakes! J) , and he asked all about my week. SB told me that he starts teaching on his own on Monday, and he was a little bit stressed about it. I asked him if there had been any big outbursts in his class that week; his response “Every single day.” God, I am soooo glad I’m not teaching.

We lingered at Veselka for over an hour, and left after realizing that there were about 20 people waiting for a table to open up. During the meal, I texted Jocelyn to see if she’d be interested in going out later on, but she declined, so I was relieved when SB suggested grabbing a drink nearby – I didn’t go out on Friday night, and wasn’t ready to go home before 1am on a Saturday. Although we were right near the Thirsty Scholar, I took SB over to Bull McCabes, another bar I liked but hadn’t been to in a while. We stayed for a few drinks, and then walked over to 6^th ave. so SB could catch his train uptown. I hugged SB goodbye and surreptitiously avoided a kiss, and walked back down to my neighborhood. I think SB could be a nice friend to have, but I’m definitely not interested in anything more. I probably realized this when I found myself wishing he was a girl, so that I could start up conversation with any of the attractive guys in McCabe’s without seeming like a total bitch. Sigh.

♥

kayrutledge:

aseriesofserendipities:

haleyworldeater:whimsywonder:rememberforever:

‘Hang on a moment!’ said Ron sharply. ‘We’ve forgotten someone!’

‘Who?’ asked Hermione.

‘The house-elves, they’ll all be down in the kitchen, won’t they?’

‘You mean we ought to get them fighting?’ asked Harry.

‘No,’ said Ron seriously, ‘I mean we should tell them to get out. We don’t want any more Dobbys, do we? We can’t order them to die for us -‘

There was a clatter as the Basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione’s arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.

‘Is this moment?’ Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. ‘OI! There’s a war going on here!’

Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still wrapped around each other.

‘I know, mate,’ said Ron, who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a Bludger, ‘so it’s now or never, isn’t it?’

-         Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, 502-503

Kids these days....

Sooo…. my parents went away for the weekend and asked my bff Nicole to house-sit and to keep my little sister Brittany in check for the weekend. Nicole’s a waitress, and Britt knew she wouldn’t be home til at least midnight on Saturday. Like any kid who’s seen too many teen films, she decided to throw a party. When Nicole arrived home, she found a bunch of kids playing beer pong on the dining room table, and the house reeked of alcohol. She kicked them out (though she wasn’t nearly as mean about it as I would have been), and made sure Brittany cleaned up every inch of the house. Although I sympathized with Britt’s need to take advantage of the one night my parents were gone in like - forever, I felt worse for Nicole, who would have been responsible if anything happened to some underage kid who had been drinking in my house.

Honestly, I was an angel in high school, and never would have dreamt of trying to throw a party like that - but apparantly, that wasn’t enough for my dear little sis. Last night, I got another distraught phone call from Nicole, which began with, “I’ve gotta tell you something, but you can’t tell Brittany I told you.”

Shit, I thought.

“I realized, this morning, that your car - which had been parked in the street - is now parked in the driveway. Brittany drove it - and I get the feeling she’s been doing that a lot. I guess she told your mom that I borrowed it for some reason, and she asked me to tell your mom that if she asks me why the car was moved.”

WTF!!!???

Seriously - my sister JUST turned 16, and doesn’t even have a PERMIT. She does NOT know how to drive, and she’s taking MY CAR out on the road alone??!! MY CAR - which I’m desperately trying to sell??? FFFFFUJHLKJDRTEWJKRLWKJRLKQWERLKJW!!!!!

I convinced Nicole that I would deal with Brittany, and I told Nic that she didn’t have to lie for her, because I sure wouldn’t. I called Britt and screamed at her for about 5 minutes, and told her that neither Nicole nor I would rat her out - but if my mom asked either one of us about the car, we would tell her the truth. At the very least, I figured Britt would suffer enough not knowing whether my mom was going to find out what she did. After acting that irresponsible, she deserved at least that much torture.

Well, I guess our plan worked - Britt confessed to my mom before morning, and apologized to both Nicole and I. As angry as I was about everything, it probably scared me more than anything else. The last time I let Britt drive my car (and it was the last time), she jumped the curb and almost hit a stop sign. In a parking lot. An empty parking lot. I have no idea how she managed not to get in an accident, but its a miracle she didn’t hit anything (or anyone).

I spoke to my mom about it this morning, and she was angry, as expected, but she seemed more guilty and worried than anything else. Every since she started working at the hospital, her schedule has her working either 1pm-9pm or 3pm-11pm, and some weekends. Dave works a lot too, so Brittany is home alone most of the time. I’m sure she’s lonely, and I don’t blame her - I hated being stuck at home, even when I had a car (which I could legally drive, ahem.) My mom feels like it’s her fault Brittany is “acting out” and “rebelling” and wants to figure out how to be home more. Although I don’t think Britt’s stupid behavior is anyone’s fault but her own, maybe she does need more parenting than she’s been getting. This morning, my mom told me that she couldn’t get Brittany to stop sobbing last night; she was so upset and truly believed I would never speak to her, trust her, or like her again. Now, I’m just feeling guilty - not for yelling at her (she deserved that), but because I feel like I haven’t been there for her lately. We’ve always been really close, but ever since I started working full time and moved out to the city, I haven’t paid much attention to her. After I get over being pissed off at her, I need figure out how to be a better sister.

Apologies for the nostalgia.

As I write this, my internet connection is miserably failing, and there’s nothing good on TV, so I’ll write. I didn’t have anything to do today, so when there was finally a break in the rain, I headed outside with my book and walked over to Washington Sq. Park to read for a bit. The book I’m reading is pretty awful, so I found myself paying far more attention to my ipod than to the words on the page in front of me. Then I started thinking about how so many songs are attached to specific memories or feelings, and how, when I hear certain songs, it immediately brings me back to those moments. Here are just a few…

MGMT “Kids” – Spring semester, senior year of college. During finals week, Alexis and I would spend hours and hours not speaking a word to each other, and just studying or writing papers. It sucked. We’d skip most meals and subsist on coffee and redbull provided by the new convenience store on the first floor of our building. Often around 11pm, one or both of us would declare that a break was absolutely necessary. We’d get in my car and drive around Madison, trying to find someplace other than QuickChek to buy something to eat – and Alexis would tell me to put on “that song”. The song was “Kids”, and it will always remind me of midnight drives around Madison with Alexis.

The Fratellis “Creeping Up the Backstairs” – My friend Faye came to stay with me mid-September of senior year, after we spent our second summer working at camp together. We had a few fun nights in Madison, but knew that we needed to have at least one crazy night in the city before she flew home to England. We somehow convinced my uncle Ryan to let us stay at his apartment on the Upper East Side so that we could go out downtown for Faye’s last night, and let her easily make her flight at JFK the next afternoon. Before driving into the city, I had Faye download music and make me a CD. We listed to it the whole way out there, and my favorite song was The Fratellis’ “Creeping Up the Backstairs”. Our night was memorable, to say the least. We wound up partying on a rooftop in the East Village with a bunch of Irish and Scottish guys until 8 in the morning. We stopped in a diner on 2nd ave, before heading back to my uncle’s place around 9am. Now, whenever I remember us sneaking around the rooftop with our charming Irish boys as the sun came up “Creeping Up the Backstairs” seems to play in the background.

Taylor Swift “Our Town” – This corny, girly, country song was the most popular song of the summer 2009 camp season. Inevitably, it would play during lunch, and the entire dining hall would sing along. Seriously – everyone. Girls, boys, counselors, and senior staff would be singing, humming, or tapping their feet along. I don’t think we even realized what we were doing; it became automatic. So now every time I hear that song, I can picture a group of 18-21 year old male camp counselors, singing along as they carry their lunch trays back to their tables. Priceless.

T.I. “Whatever You Like” – What genre of music is this? Rap? R&B? I don’t know exactly, but it is NOT the kind of music I listen to unless I’ve had at least three drinks. Even while inebriated, it’s not my favorite – but it IS Jocelyn’s. When she was here visiting last winter, we heard this song play at least once every night we went out, and every time, Jocelyn would shout “It’s my song!” So yeah, on the rare occasion I’m actually listening to the radio, and this song comes on, I can’t help but conjur the blurry memories of one eventful night at Solas.

Snow Patrol “Chasing Cars” – First summer working at camp, 2007. I drove down to New York with Zach (Texas), Kristy (Massachusetts), and Claire (England). They had never been to New York City, and I was committed to being an excellent tour guide. We were unable to secure a hotel reservation, but we went anyway. About halfway through the drive, I got in touch with my friend Devin, in Chatham, NJ. He told me that my friends and I could crash at his place for the night. All I remember from that night is that Devin was high as a kite when we arrived, and Kristy had to share a bed with him. The next morning, we went into the city, and had a touristy, fun-filled day. We went to the South Street Seaport, took pictures of the Statue of Liberty from Battery Park, went shopping in Union Square, visited the M&M store, and had dinner at the Hard Rock Café in Times Square. The only thing we hadn’t done on this day off was drink. Refusing to let our dwindling free hours go to waste, Zach and I bought a bottle of something after picking up the car in NJ, hopped in the backseat, and sipped strongly mixed drinks from Wendy’s cups for most of the drive back. Kristy (who drove Dudley as much as I did that summer), graciously drove us back to Honsedale, while Claire navigated from the passenger seat. She refused to have more than a few sips, but Zach and I had more than our share. By the time we pulled up at the Honesdale Wal-Mart to pick up a few essentials before heading back to camp, we decided that leaving the safety of Dudley’s backseat for the bright lights of the Wal-Mart Supercenter would just be asking for trouble. So we stayed in the car, after I drunkenly ordered Kristy to put on “the car song!” Somehow, she knew exactly the song I meant.

More later…..