Life is absolutely fine right about now.

So, I think about things all the time. Pretty much over think things, actually. And lately, I've been having the ups and downs about where I'm at lately. You know, the whole job thing. Why does life seem to have to revolve around a job? How dumb is that, right?

Well, I graduated this past May, and somehow I just knew, deep down, that I was going to come home and things were going to be exactly the same as they were before I left. Because, well, I had been in and out of college for the last 7 years... why would anything else be different, right? School is pretty much all I've known my entire life. So, here I am, once again, out of school... most likely heading back next fall to get my Master's. Of course! What else? And then what? Who knows.

I'm bumming about not acquiring a job in my field (yet), but I know my time will come. Right now I'm just paying my dues. And I ALSO know that I like where I am, location-wise, much more than where I was the last 3 or so years. The following is my apology to Potsdam:

Sorry, Town of Potsdam, but I don't miss you at all. I don't miss the fact that you were in the middle of nowhere. I don't miss the fact that you provided location for a building called Crane School of Music that had me going crazy all hours of the day, 8 months out of the year. I don't miss having to force myself to practice in little cells for 2-3 hours a day. I don't miss that stupid little apartment I lived in for 2 1/2 years that only spat out hot water for 4.3 minutes before turning cold. I don't miss having to clean mold off of the ceiling every 2 1/2 weeks. I won't miss stepping outside and having my nose hairs freeze off. I don't miss the fact that the only two options you had to go grocery shopping were Big M and Wal-Mart. I don't miss the fact that you kept me 185 miles away from my best friends and my family, and around 300 miles away from my boyfriend. I don't miss paying you money to make me work and sweat so hard.

Okay, okay... so it sounds like I had an awful time there. But not completely. Things I will miss about this place, are summed up with basically two things: the friends I made there, and 1-2-3 night. (How can anyone compete with 1-2-3 night, unless they have one themselves??)

So, life is absolutely fine right about now. I can take a hot shower for up to 30 minutes if I'd like (but don't- it's just nice that the option is there); when I practice clarinet it's because I actually really, really want to; my ceilings are fungus-free; I've got Wegmans 10 minutes away from my house, and I only have to drive anywhere from 5 to 45 minutes to get to my dearest friends and boyfriend. It's a fine trade-off, if you ask me.

Hello

I thought I would reboot this ole' blog once again. It's fall time, I've graduated from college, and there's a lot going on believe it or not. Stay tuned for more!

A True Story... Maybe You Had To Be There

Once upon a time, long before the invention of Facebook, I was talking to Matt Garlock on AOL Instant Messager. This was shortly after the Big Northeast Blackout of 2003. We were having a I guess you could say normal conversation, when all of a sudden it took a turn for the bizarre (note- the following online conversation is paraphrased from memory):

Matt: Oh, so I have to tell you the craziest story.
Me: Oh?
Matt: Yeah, you know the big blackout we had last week?
Me: Yeah.
Matt: Well, I got hungry and just had to cook myself something of an elaborate fashion, so I had this big knife I was slicing vegetables with...
Matt: ...and I realized I needed more light, and I didn't want to set the knife down in case me or somebody else didn't see it, I didn't want anyone anyone to get cut, you know?
Me: Yeah, sure, of course
Matt: Right... so I walked out of the kitchen with the knife, and clumsy me... I FELL!
Matt: And I sliced my ring finger right off!
{Insert here at least 15 minutes of me saying, "Yeah right, you are so full of it, why should I believe you, you are so full of it", and probably another 10 of Matt fully convincing me that he did indeed chop off his ring finger and his mom put it in a sandwich bag, ran him to the hospital, and the doctor sewed it back on.)


Okay, so there is how it started. Let me tell you how the rest played out.


So, the next day the class of 2003 (all 6 of us, minus Tommy) had planned to go to the Pagano's for dinner and some relaxation. (Mr. Pagano was our history teacher whom we fondly called "Dad".) As we all waited for Matt to show up, I explained to everyone about how he lost his finger but it was sewed back on and the tissue was going to grow and he was going to have to go to therapy, blahblahblah, I spit back out whatever Matt had told me. We all felt a little skeptical, but we thought we would know the truth once Matt got there.

Well, Matt gets dropped off by his mom since she needed the car that day, and lo and behold, we see a white gauze bandage wrapped around his ring finger, with what looked like dry blood oozing out the sides.

"Wow Matt! You really WERE telling the truth!" we all exclaim. "We're all so glad you're okay!"


So, yada yada yada... Matt talks about his traumatic experience for a bit, we all show our concern, and then continue to "reminisce" about the ole' high school days that are only but a month or two behind us. As the evening continues, I sort of wonder about Matt's injury, as I notice he is leaning his entire body weight on the arm where the injury sits. But I dismiss these thoughts, because there is an obvious bandage on his ring finger, correct?

Well, someone... I think it was Zoryana... she brings up Matt's finger again and how awful that must have been. I think Lesley says something about how she would like to see it, and he should take the bandage off. Being the queasy one, I shout "NO!" and Matt complies. And THEN... it all happened so fast I'm not sure of the sequence of events, but all I know is Matt's bandage flies off and there is no finger and Matt is screaming

"AHHH!! RACH MY FINGER!!!"

I scream, we all scream... and Matt is laughing hysterically. We look over. Finger is in place. There is no blood. There are no stitches. It's just a finger. Yes, Matt got us. He got us all. He actually spent time creating a bandage with some gauze around the house and food coloring. But this little story doesn't end there. This is a game, folks. And Matt just checked us. We were about to check-mate.

After us five girls plus Joanne (Mrs. Pagano) smack him and yell at him and screams of "I KNEW you were putting us on!" are all said, we calm down as Matt revels in his twisted sense of humor.

Now, before I continue, let me just clarify for those who don't know that I went to a very small private Christian school for the last 3 years of high school. Everyone knows everybody's business and even though gossip is frowned upon, we get to do it anyway through "prayer chains", where people call one another and "pray" for those who have "fallen astray" or those who need support, or, like Matt, those who have had some sort of injury or illness. (Disclaimer: I understand that some prayer chains can be good, but just from what I've experienced at Calvary Chapel of the Finger Lakes, they are not always with good intentions.)

So, prayer chains. There you have it. Continuing with the story...

Mr. Pagano looks at us girls with a slight smirk, and says to Matt, "Oh boy, we've all been praying for you this entire time Matt..."

Joanne butts in, "Rachael told us about it and I called Pastor Jack right away to put you on the prayer chain! You better start calling people so they are not praying for you in vain!"

Now, of course... we did not make any phone calls to any pastor. But the Pagano's are quick thinkers and the rest of us knew where they were going with this. We all vigorously agreed that Matt should start making phone calls, and he should have never played such a cruel joke on us all because now he has to deal with the consequences...

So, Matt first calls Pastor Jack. (Maybe it was Pastor Rick? I don't know, too many darn pastors in that church.) Luckily, he is not able to get ahold of him, so he calls our old English teacher, Mr. Powell. Matt explains the entire situation to him and Mr. Powell says nobody has called from the prayer chain yet but he'll keep trying Pastor Jack/Rick for him to make sure Matt gets off the prayer chain. Matt thanks him and gets off the phone to call Pastor Mark, the principal of our ole' high school.

At this point, we're all pretty satisfied with ourselves for making Matt feel super guilty but are curious to see how long this might last, so anytime one of us felt the need to burst out laughing, we ran into the kitchen or bathroom. Thankfully Matt didn't notice any of this, and went on to call Pastor Mark, who we said DEFINITELY knew about Matt's finger, and was probably really upset. The conversation went something like the following:

Matt: Hello, Hannah? (Pastor Mark's daughter) Yeah... is your dad there? I didn't really cut off my finger and I need to let him know...
(Hannah on the other line: ????)
Matt: ....okay, thanks......(Hannah gets her dad)...... Hi Pastor Mark, this is Matt Garlock, umm, so I wanted to let you know... I am SO sorry, but... I didn't really cut off my finger, see, I was playing this joke on Rachael and I didn't realize it was going to go this far, and I am SO sorry, I never wanted it to go on the prayer chain.... I put all this fake gauze and blood on and I didn't really mean...

At this point, we are all laughing hysterically. I mean, I'm not sure if my stomach ever hurt that bad as it did at that moment. Matt started to realize the joke was on him now as I'm pretty sure Pastor Mark was in silence on the other end of the phone wondering what the heck Matt was talking about.

"Oh, man... you know what Pastor Mark? I think I just got owned."


And he was right. He did!

If I were a rich man...

My collection of musicals on DVD is growing nicely, but it's not even close to being complete. Here are a few that would help make it whole:


Older stuff:
Me and my Gal
An American in Paris
Mary Poppins (such a great movie, I can't believe I don't have it)
Annie
A Chorus Line
Hello Dolly
Funny Girl
My Fair Lady
The Sound of Music
Guys and Dolls

Newer stuff:
Dreamgirls
Hairspray
Mamma Mia

"Creationist nonsense"

For a required course in order to graduate, I have to read an article called, "15 Answers to Creationist Nonsense". I'll be honest. My blood started to boil as soon as I read the title. And it doesn't really have to do with my own personal, spiritual views. Here's why- up until this point this same EXACT book from this same EXACT class has been preaching tolerance and understanding and respect of everyone, everything, blah blah blah BLAH. Yet, oh- when it comes to a Creationist's point of view, we can call that nonsense, they say, and explain our half and make them sound like incoherent, uneducated idiots. But heaven (or the lack of one, I guess) forbid that we EVER second-guess why drug dealers do what they do in the streets of Harlem.

I exaggerate a little, of course. But seriously. I'm so f***ing sick of hypocritical, liberal tolerism. There. I said it. Bite me.

Resurrected!

It's been awhile. Here's what I've observed/learned/concluded in the past year:

• YouTube is a strange concept. People talking to computers in their bathrooms/bedrooms/living rooms, to receive responses from complete strangers about their thoughts, music, etc.? It seems as though everyone needs to get out more. Technology is sucking the social life out of this generation. YouTube is fine for posting films, music videos, or maybe sharing home videos with family far away... but everything else is just weird.

• Blogs are also a strange concept. Sharing your written thoughts with, virtually, the WORLD? What a bunch of crazies. Most of us aren't even professionals. We should be taken out by those who actually know what they're talking about, whoever that may be...
  

• Giving up is not an option.

• Phish is an okay band.

• Politics are hilarious. This continual rivalry between Hilary and Obama is a hoot, and I hope they eat each other alive. That's not saying I want McCain to win...

• Marriage is just something people do. The first couple weddings seem like, oh, wow, this is a big deal. What great fun! But after about the 8th one within a year, you just sort of yawn and think, "Okay, so how long will this honeymoon last?"
  

• Organizing your closet by colors is the best way to do it.
  

• Global warming is quite the fad nowadays. I guess "greenhouse effect" didn't sound as cool, so they had to switch up the terms to make people take action. (Whoops, no irony/pun intended there.) Let's not forget this also allows the government to create taxes, letting people think they're helping this world by sticking more money in politicians' big, fat pockets. Hmmmm... I won't comment any further.
  

• After reading autobiographies on Patti Boyd and Rita Marley, I'm determined to never become the wife of a famous musician. What a headache...

That's all I can think of, off the top of my head. I'm sure there's some stuff down at the bottom somewhere...

The following may be too graphic for those who may not like to discuss crap.

Today I wondered what it must be like to be a brand new human being, just a day or two old, and taking your first poop.

I mean, it's gotta scare you out of your mind. Here you are, trying to adjust to your new surroundings, no longer in the comforts of your mother's uterus (womb, whatever), and there's this warm, squishy, wormy thing coming out of the lower part of your body. What's going on?!? you must wonder. What IS that?? And when do I stop pushing?!

Then, you continue on, day after day. Pooping. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it doesn't. Why isn't it consistent? you ask yourself. How come on some days it feels like a little Winchester cigar coming out of my butt, and other days it feels as though a mudslide is about to overtake California? Am I sick, am I dying? Do the cigars mean good luck? Why do my mommy or daddy wipe it away from my butt every time I do this? Am I doing something wrong? Should it be a different color? But even when it is a different color, they still wipe it all away. Then it comes back. Day after day. Sometimes even hour after hour.


Seriously. It's gotta freak a kid out that first week.