University of Georgia Health Center

This may seem like an odd place to love. It is generally thought of as pain, poking, and prodding and awkward Q and As and I have experienced all of these during my time at UGA health center. They are doing their job of course, so I can't really complain too much. I went recently for some blood tests..my least favorite test due to the fact that my veins are deep and thin. The crook of my usually becomes like an expert seamstress' pin cushion and afterwards resembled a heroine addicts' arm. As I entered the lab at UGA a young girl was fully laid out on one of the chairs, barely able to drink her OJ, and laid comforted only by the blanket on top of her, despite the fact that it was 65 degrees in the lab. Fantastic. I anticipated passing out, slamming my head on the hard tile floor, because I NEVER done that before. Vicky, my nurse, said good morning and before I knew it had taken 3 tubes of my blood. I gushed about how amazing she was! As I left the lab another nurse shouted a "Thanks for the compliments! We love to hear them and hate that people dread seeing us!" Not only did someone make my day a little less painless, but I was able to do the same in return.

* Note: I am writing about the health center because I have been so impressed with it. In undergrad we used to call the practitioner there Dr. Death. Last time I was there I was sent to the hospital because the doctors were too busy on break to take a last minute appointment.

Midnight Movie Maddness

Tonight..this morning really..I stood in a lengthy line, Fandango ticket in hand, and waited with what seemed like the majority of the Athen's summer population for the midnight showing of Harry Potter. I downed two cups of coffee at 10 my defense mechanism against the possibilty of constant and contagious yawns throughout the movie. There were a few hardcore fans that dressed as wizards and I almost felt guilty for even considering wearing pajama bottoms. It wasn't like previous midnight shows that I have been to. This crowd fell almost silent as they sat down, eagerly waiting for the movie to begin. The only noise that I could distinctly hear was the sound of beer bottles being pulled from backpacks and being twisted open and eventually clinking against other empties. What a clever idea. In the past I have only sneaked in 007 water bottles and even ventured as far as a Scotch bottle...(think before doing this one). I was beginning to feel like I have lost my game. No costume. No book bag filled with goodies. I obviously have not thought this one through.

The movie itself was good or at least as a good as an adaptation could be. I am easily taken away in the land of possibility and I start thinking about how wonderful it would be to have powers. The simplest chore, such as cleaning an apartment can be completed with a wave of a wand. I can magically go to places that I wish I could be, like to Jill and give her that much deserved hug (though I know tears would start to fall without even being close to stopping), or to Carly and tell her that everything will work out, or to Jacqui so that I can discuss openly my situations in which she always provides appropriate advice after analyzing every word of every text. I would be able to concoct potions that go beyond by bar bottles of gin and vodka that produce an effect other than drunken admiration, slurring of words, liquid courage and bad luck. I wish I could see into the future and try to curb any unwanted life collisions. Could my temptation to use my power for evil be tamed? I suppose it doesn't matter because this is just the remnant thoughts of my imagination, but when has imagination ever been bad?

Reflection

It has been brought to my attention that I need to start writing more posts by more than one person. When asked why I stopped I wasn't exactly certain. I know I started this blog as a joke it was a bunch of ridiculous things that I was particularly fond of that day. Then I stopped briefly in December mostly due to the fact that I U-turned from loving most things to hating everything...well hate I suppose is a strong word but I developed a distaste for most things. A few weeks of this behavior and soon became disgusted with myself. That wasn't me even on my more sarcastic days. There are so many things in this world that I am lucky to experience and have in my life. I made it a point to write about anything that seemed to help me bring myself out of this high school, emo-like, rough patch. They always say write letters to express how you are actually feeling. Well my fingers have become more attuned to typing rather than gripping a pen, hence excessive blog entries. After December I was able to fully throw myself in my surrounding and I fell in love with a place I never thought I would. The more natural this place became I less I wrote. Perhaps I didn't need to reflect on what made me happy because I was already there. Since May I've done some pretty amazing, dumb, awkward, spiteful, and worthwhile things. While I no longer feel the need to constantly remind myself that life is good (nay fantastic) reflection is always important for growth. So I continue to write, despite the fact that some may think it is narcissistic. This is a tool to learn when I need to let go, keep in touch with loved ones, and provide stories. If it makes people laugh at me, smile or even feel nostalgic then it has done its purpose.

Living Alone

For the last four years of my life I have lived with some amazing people in amazingly close quarters. I was used to taking the five minute showers, being afraid of getting a glass of water in the middle of the night because Jill popped out of some cramped space just to scare me, and those early morning interrogations morning afters. The fridge was always cramped with four people's different pallets and the living room was always cluttered with various papers and textbooks. I didn't mind this and I still don't. I cried when my roommate of four years moved to the room right next to me at 34 Chambers. We had the perfect sleep schedule: South Park, 30 minute sleep timer, rain sound machine, bed. I was afraid to live by myself. My accident prone disability was surely going to be the end of me. At first I missed waking up in the middle of the night and not having someone downstairs watching The X-Files or someone up early in the morning making oatmeal, however, after a few months I got used to it. I love it. When it was taken away from me for 1o days it was interesting...to put it nicely.

I love my family and it is not just because we share the same blood and we have to love each other. I love them, but they were infiltrating my apartment. My mom took her typical cleaning lady role. (I am just thankful that she didn't remove the fridge and stove to clean behind them, though she did clean the stove.) My father took over my laptop and checked his e-mail laughing at the photos and youtube clips that his friends sent him. My sister (who was a dream the entire time) casually checked her e-mail to see which Balenciaga shoes my cousin was going to buy for the wedding. (I chose to wear flip flops cause thats how I roll..)

My bed was only occupied once and I was happy to have the company. After a day long drinking binge on my birthday my sister tucked us into my bed and we watched Sex and the City and called the SJP slut and bitch for being a dirty cheater. We are not fans of infidelity.

While my family was in town I had to be prepared to come home not to a peaceful apartment but a chaotic one. I one day I stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped, and opened the door to to find a strange man. This never happens when I am alone, though it would be convenient. My father called someone to fix the air conditioner, which I am grateful for, but he forgot to tell me what time he was going to be in my apartment. This left a wet, half-naked, drippy me lost and confused at the situation.

I opened my junk drawer at my desk, which is usually scattered with staples, paper clips, stamps and miscellaneous papers, and found a oddly organized drawer. I opened my kitchen cabinet and found my Jell-o boxes neatly stacked in alphabetical order, flavor side out. I now have 40 extra rolls of toilet paper I do not need and a weeks worth of leftovers that resembles the Taste of Athens event: pita and hummus from The Grit, duck pasta from Last Resort, Caramel cake from Last Resort, tater tots from Clocked...the list continues.

This is the second day I have had my apartment to myself and it is oddly quiet...wonderfully, oddly quiet. I fell asleep on the couch and did laundry at my own pace. I no longer am afraid to take a shower and my cabinet and drawers have gone back to being cluttered. I miss my family but I know they will be back soon. Hopefully Carly and Aaron make their roadtrip down.

I really shouldn't complain. I have air and food and I learned 2 very important lessons.

1. Sarcasm is completely lost on my parents. This is an issue since everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcastic and snarky. I learned this the hard way when I attempted to break some pre-wedding tension and failed multiple times. I would make a crack and wait for the laughs and was shocked when I met the cold gaze of my parents...ahem..awkward awkward. Thankfully my sister was in the background gasping for air as she engaged in deep laughter heaves. I guess my role as comic relief during the shower/wedding etc. is not going to go so well. I blame the economy.

2. I am going to elope if I ever choose to enter "holy matrimony"

Allie goes to Alabama

So at this point I believe that I no longer have to say that this post will be an extension of things that I love. (This may require a list)

1. People watching at airports. Generally, I dispise airports. The long lines. The constant orange threat warning. The inevitbale hurt toe because someone was running with their wheely suitcase to catch a flight and thinks that bulldozing people is an acceptable behavior. There are only two things that I enjoy at airports, arriving early enough to sit at the bar and get a little buzz going to dispel those pre-flight jitters and people watching. This isn't just watching the suits rush by, the the flight attendents chat it up as they head to their next gate for their next destination, this is watching the people reunite with the ones that they love. The airport gift shops do not make bank of those ATLANTA sweatshirts, or those peach key rings. They make their money off of the flowers. The people who are soon to be reunited with their loved ones, whether it be family or signficant others, tote around flowers and handmade "Welcome Home" signs. They jump up and down, start to cry, scream, run for a hug and swirl their loved ones around the in the air. The sheer anticpation of waiting for someone's head to pop up over the ledge of the escalator is as if every nerve in your body is ready to explode....

"I like to see people reunited, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone." Jonathan Safran Foer

2. New family. While my sister's future sister and brother in law are not my family they seem like. They welcome us into their home which was brightly colored and resembled rainbow row in Charleston. There was comfort there as they showed us around their house and their little oasis of a back yard. Zoe Zoe Face, being only 8 months old, motored around the rooms in those wheely things that I am not exactly sure what is is actually called (seeing this was the first baby I have been around in well...ever). Pogo the puppy was well behaved as well as she gently played with Zoe Zoe and gave her ki ki ki kisses. The spread for dinner was amazing but not as amazing as the ease at which we all fell into place. There was discussion on weddings, family experiences and just about everything. Sarcasam was understood and appreciated here.

3. Motherhood. Again, nothing that have personally experienced, thank god, but I still love it. (well not pregnant bellies they scare the bajesus out of me for some reason). It did not bother be the slightest that Zoe Zoe Face screamed and cried before she exhausted herself into a deep sleep. Her mom gently brushed her face and smoothed away the tears with her hands. Zoe Zoe just wanted to be touched, to feel safe as she drifted into the unknown. This kind of relationship does not end with carseats. My sister has come down with some freak stomache virus. I woke up to her sitting, collapsed from exhaustion on the bathroom floor. I knocked on my parent's hotel room and whispered to my mom "Mom...Kate is sick." Like an Olympian runner my mother, still in a half sleep I'm sure, popped up from bed and rushed into our room without heistation or time for questions. Once my sister was back in bed my mom crawled into bed with her, put a wash cloth on her forehead, and rubbed her back to soothe my sister to sleep. The same technique for the 8 month old worked for the 28 year old. They ended up taking her to the hospital to get her some medicine and IV fluid. While I was not invited to go I know my mom was sitting with my sister the whole night, forgoing her own sleeping pattern. All hospitals are freezing of course so my sister shivered as she attempted to fight off the stomache cramps and the urge to purge. My mom, being the amazing mother that she is, took her socks off from her own feet and slipped them on my sister. I always complain about her worrying too much, but that is just a mom trait. Thanks mom! Happy Mother's Day.

Surprises!!!

Today's Surprises:

1. New neighbor
2. Kate is getting married this September/October...uhhh really?

Minus the Bear

Someone I loved gave me their CD. I used to lay on my bed in Dayton and play it over and over again and stare at the old, glow-in-the-dark stars that were barely sticking my the cracked ceiling. The summer month that I lived in Rome I would listen to Minus the Bear as I crawled in the smaller than twin size bed and have the warm breeze from the loud city creep in. It is only appropriate since they sing about the romance of the Mediterranean. Minus the Bear is the type of music that you listen to before bed in order to have that great dream worth remembering in the morning.

I haven't had a decent night of sleep since Friday night. Why is it at night right before you lay your head on the pillow that all those thoughts that you tossed aside during the day slither in? The cure of course is music..

Pachuca Sunrise
Midnight on a beach in the Mediterranean
and I miss you
Even here, taking it all in
The sand's silver carries the moon on it's shoulders
Is it possible to put this night to tune and give it to you?

Don't cry I'll bring this home to you
If I can make this night light enough to move
Don't cry I'll bring this home to you

Cargo ships move by, tracing on the horizon line
There's a luster from the city lights on the waves that kiss our feet
And we're thinking of going in
The time's getting thin

Don't cry I'll bring this home to you
If I can make this night light enough to move
Don't cry I'll bring this home to you

This is a city for not sleeping, the clocks are set by feel
At this moment from where i sit, nothing here seems real


Absinthe Party At The Fly Honey Warehouse
Hey, lets cross the sea
and get some culture.
Red wine with every meal
and absinthe after dinner.
We'd look good side by side
walking back to the hotel.

We've got to get something
to eat and to drink yeah,
and find a place to stay
that's not far off the main way-
we've got to plan our day;
Rodan and the Orsay.

and find a way to cram it all in
before we drink hard again.

Let's get a bottle and drink alone tonight

'This light looks good on you,'
morning came early.
Sitting on a park bench
that's older than my country.
Two star hotel
near St. Germain.
Two star hotel
where the stars don't mean anything


I wish I was back sitting on the steps at the St. Peter's square watching people slow dance by the fountain as the sun sunk down...who wants to go?