Live blogging from the train, Part Deux.

The actual train ride was tolerable. Though, as I responded to student journal entries, I found myself getting slightly train sick. No biggie though. And there was the old dude rocking the Foxy Lady hat who swapped stories with the train conductor regarding their stints in rehab/jail. Sort of gave me more respect for the conductor for if it wasn't for witnessing this interaction,  I'd think he lacked personality.

Anyway. I got off at Back Bay and MIRACULOUSLY turned myself in the RIGHT direction to get to Northeastern.  Background information: I lived in Boston for five years (2002-2007), I went to Northeastern for undergrad, and I've walked these streets COUNTLESS times. Yet, somehow, for the last year as I've been attending grad school back at NEU  (alumni tuition discount, holla), I've managed to get myself lost. Literally,  lost every single time I have class. Two weeks ago, I managed to get myself lost for a good 45 minutes,  exploring parts of Boston I didn't know existed, and showing up fashionably late for a meeting.  Mind you,  the walk from Back Bay is literally a straight shot mile (or less). I feel like I should take this time to explain that I haven't always been this brain dead. Honestly,  I was quite smart until I started taking so many classes in conjunction with working and then all of a sudden my steel trap became a lint trap.

So, as I was saying,  I managed to  NOT get lost and for once had the opportunity to revel in my surroundings. Though,  perhaps I always revel and that's why I'm usually lost?! ANYWAY.  Revelling had me taking in above average looking guys playing a round of basketball.  I think I need to start hanging out at the courts, in addition to coffee shops, laundromats (find my missing sock!), book stores, and record stores, as a means to meet the fellas. I mean, I totally rocked at hoops back in the 4th grade. Killed it. I started a coffee shop scope last Sunday which went relatively well. Though,  I need to brainstorm pick-up lines....Can I go up to a barista and say: "You see that guy over there? You know the one pretending to do a report on his laptop?  Yeah, that one.  A. Do you think we'd look totally cute together? ! And B. Can you send him a frapuccino and say it's from me? Subtle like though.  Know what I mean?"

Whoa. Back to the night at hand. So, I was like, wicked stoked, that I managed to get to Northeastern with time to spare. Usually,  I'm crashing in five minutes late all Kramer-like. Ah, yes, people have actually commented on this. Unfortunately,  I got too jazzed too soon because once I got to Northeastern I found myself getting lost in the same building that A. I had class in two weeks prior and B. That I had class in for four years during undergrad aka MY BRAIN IS FRIED. Thankfully,  I did manage to make  it to class with three minutes to spare and was congratulated by my friend who was completely surprised by my non-Kramer-crash entrance. I was proud.

Class. Ah. What can I say. We did skits. I talked about my cat. Another classmate referred to "reflections" as being pointless which was awesome because A. It's true and B. It's basically the basis of this entire course/masters program. So many reflections. I am reflected OUT. I may be one of the few females out there who is officially sick of talking about her feelings.  F feelings.  Reflections, be gone!

Tonight is a really big night for me because not only did I manage to avoid the Kramer-crash, but I also ran out of class BEFORE it was over!!! I'm beyond proud. Basically,  I live an hour away and depend on the commuter rail. For the last year of classes,  I've stayed until the very last minute,  often resulting in missing the early train and having to wait around for another hour. It's my last semester,  and as you've noticed, I'm not exactly getting any smarter, and at this point,  I value sleep (what I can muster of it), so I ran out. Literally,  ran out. I felt rude,  but mainly, I felt inspired by myself for looking out for myself!!! And I made that early train with just three minutes to spare! !! Let it be known, however: running in a pencil skirt really shortens one's stride. I mean, I still made good time because I got mad sprinting skillz, but pencil skirts; flattering,  yes. Good for splits and sprints (and peeing), no.

Live blogging from the train station.

The station:

I'm sitting on a bench.  People decide to come and sit right next to me. I had to slide over.

There was all this space where they could be sitting.

The platform:

All of a sudden the horrific,  distinct sound hits my ears. Some herb is cutting his nails. I turn around.  Just a foot away,  a man naturally, in flip flops,  is trimming his fingernails as if it's the most natural thing in the world. 

Overheard:

Conversation about Lucy who is a B and is only tolerable because she gives b jobs. She doesn't even make the chicken right. Nobody wants the house special anymore.

Weird voice.

Does this happen to anyone else: you haven't talked to someone in at least 36 minutes,  and then, bam! A person is there. You're stirring your cappuccino and you look up and there's that person.  Of course, you have to say hi because it's the polite thing to do, but it's like you've forgotten to how to speak in your normal voice.  Thus, you say "hello" in a sketchy deep man's voice even though you're real voice is semi-high. Then, in your head you're like, what the heck was that? And next thing you know you're apologizing for speaking in such a crazy voice.

Also, I don't really like cappuccinos, yet I'm sitting here with a large.

Additionally,  lately when I order salads and request honey mustard dressing,  I end up legit getting straight up mustard.  While I definitely see the similarities,  they're not the same.

Gonna go drink more of this disgusting cappuccino. ..

Yoga.

I'm always looking for ways to enhance the life and yoga seemed like a good option. God knows I could work on that whole relaxing thing.  And it's been going pretty well, that was, until this week. I went on Monday. I wasn't in the mood to go, but I went anyways. I was running late, so I had to drive instead of walk. I enjoy the great outdoors, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. Being all in a rush, I ended up parking in a tow zone.  Naturally, it's impossible to focus on my Ujjayi breath when I'm thinking about my car getting towed. And the incense...oh, the incense. Scent is my strongest sense which oftentimes works against me. There are a lot of things in life you just don't want to smell. Have you ever wondered why the smiley face is often missing a nose? Most likely because it wouldn't be smiling if it smelled its surroundings. Anyhoo, the incense was something fierce and something yucky when it hit my nostrils. So, I'm all "relax, or else" but literally can't because ya know my car is about to get towed and the smell is literally killing me. To top it all off, the instructor had the WORST New England accent ever.  No offense to accents or anything, we've all got them, but ya know, if you have a strong one, don't become a news anchor or yoga teacher.  Downward facing dog is something else and something not pretty when it becomes "downwahd facin dahg". Brutal.

The Black Keys and CitiCards.

Ummm....I've been feeling really uninspired lately---work, school, blah blah blah. Life, man, But, I just had a most enjoyable discussion with a dude from CitiCards. I know, you're thinking, how is this possible? But remarkably, I tend to have top notch convos with these ladies and gents from various states, countries and continents.  Today's man was coming at me from India.  Before I get into why he's awesome, I should probably start with the background information, which is kind of lame.  Lame in the sense, that I bought second row tickets to the Black Keys and was super excited to go, but reality has sunk in.  Reality being that I have to work at 7am on Monday and can't take a day off from teaching yet, and that it is not just a regular work day, but it is a work day plus grad school day aka death day, so late night fun the day before, not really an option.  Run-on sentence, long winded action, shocker.  Let's move on. Short story long, being all responsible and shiz, I offered up my ticket to one of my bro and sis-in-law's friends.  Of course, since I bought the ticket there is all this hoopla about needing my card to enter the venue.  So, I had to call and talk to CitiCards for a good long while tonight. The lovely man from India asked me what concert I was missing.  Upon hearing that it was the Black Keys, he started singing one of their songs to me which was nothing short of amazing.  We then spent the next few minutes talking about how he saw GNR the last time they went to India.  I told him I was totally jealous, he chuckled, more singing happened, followed by more chats, and finally, our goodbyes.  Now, as much as I'm sad that I cannot attend this Sunday's show on account of life happening, I am quite jazzed that I got to engage in some Black Keys/GNR singing with this lovely man.

The end.

WHOA. So, post-thought. I'm in the middle of chatting with my friend about how the guy at her bodega complimented her choice of kimchi, saying it "had good color". Duh, I need more bodegas and telemarketers in my life. This is what my life is missing!!! More talks with randoms. Though, there is that man at the park who wears wife beaters who I talk to that now wants to go on a lunch date and I don't feel good about that. So, on an after-post-thought, maybe I'm totally off with this....

Dentistry and Dating Oneself.

Well, if dating isn't the thing that's gonna kill me, passing in the halls of the junior high surely will.  True story, fourth graders are currently clocking in at my height.  I got body checked by a sixth grader today.  Don't even get me started as to what happens at the high school.  The only way to tell me apart from a student is the lovely school id that hangs around my neck.  It matches all of my outfits-the lovely maroon color (sarcasm here).  Where kids are not good for knocking me over, they are good for the ego.  A girl turned to me, practically in awe and said: "I love your dress. It's so pretty. You always look so pretty. How do you do it?" Girl, I want to put you in my pocket and carry you around with me all damn day.  That's the kind of talk I should be talking to myself, but I, like way too many of us, am way too my hard on myself.  For goodness sake, when I found out I had cavities I spent a good solid four minutes apologizing to the dentist.  I brush, I swear! Today I got those two cavities filled. Nothing like dentistry to get you questioning how you are able to breathe.  I had all this shiz in my mouth and my face had gone completely numb and I was sitting there trying to figure out how to breathe through my nose.  Forget yoga people, dentistry is the ultimate way to gain breath focus. Also, if I'm sitting there wondering how to breathe through my nose, does this therefore insinuate that I'm generally breathing through my mouth?! Certainly NOT attractive! As good ol' Mary Poppins would say. "Close your mouth, Michael. You are not a codfish."

I don't know if it is the Novocaine or what, but I am feeling much (well, slightly) better about life today.  I came to realize that the only person I should be dating right now is myself.  That sounds totally weird, but it is true.  I need to focus on being kinder to myself and re-realizing what makes me happy.  So far, I know that music makes me happy.  In my low times, I have found myself turning to the obvious choices: 80s power ballads, Sinatra, Coltrane, a little indie rock, and lots of hip hop.  People are often surprised by my KILLAH persona, but here's the thing: much of the hip hop music/culture epitomizes something that I desire to encompass; that being seriously not giving a damn.  Everyone thinks Kanye West is a total dickward, and perhaps this is true, but you know what, he does not care! He does not care! It's a beautiful thing. My brother once turned to me and said, "Do you think Jay Z cares if some b turns him down?!" Certainly not, for he is "onto the next one"! The Ying Yang Twins are also quite wise: "You fine, but I ain't gonna sweat you."  And there is of course Bone Crusher who "ain't never scared, what! East side!" as well as the ever energetic Lil Jon: "Don't start no shit, it won't be no shit." And  Lil Wayne "talks to himself because he's his own consultant." Aka trust yourself, peeps! I could go on and on...It's all really great advice. REALLY.

Besides listening to music and solo dance parties, I also really enjoy talking to random people. Lately I have been chatting up a 60 year-old man in the park, and not gonna lie, we've become sort of bffs.

When it does come to dating a real dude again however, I wonder where I will meet him.  I have observed many an attractive fella driving by in a car.  Now, I have no qualms about holla-rin' at dudes as they walk by for there is not the matter of the window blockage.  But how does one literally get a message across through a vehicle...Any thoughts on this matter?!

Additionally, I am super broke right now. Mo' money, mo' problems though, so all good, right. With that said, I don't want to spend money on cat litter, and am wondering if it is a good idea to dig up dirt from a nearby park and throw it in Cheddar's box?! Probably not???

And now, in honor of being true to oneself and going full speed ahead, here's some Kanye. Good people, before he became totally egotistic, he got his jaw wired shut and drank an Ensure for dessert.  Not only do I relate to Mr. West right now because I am coming into my own as he once did, but also because I will too be drinking an Ensure for dessert (on account of the numb face).

Be good to yourself.

Killah K Weighs in on Dating.

So, here are my thoughts on dating: it is the worst. There are a lot of terrible and unfortunate ways to die and I'm not entirely convinced that dating won't be the death of me.

June had me headed to New York.  A certain dude knew I was coming and I was excited to see him.  Once I arrived, said dude was "too tired" to hang out....for the entire weekend.  This came after months of him pulling the Houdini act followed by the inevitable resurfacing to tell me how much he likes me.  And I was dumb enough to fall for it.  So, I'm in NY, the first two nights staying with friend and her fiance; the fiance whose name is of course the same as the dude who just blew me off. Again. To make matters worse, of course my friend and I saw Heathers the musical and watched Heathers the movie, aka this was a funny, campy movie except now that is real life and is about everyone dying in a school and hey, I work in a school, and this is depressing.  My parents had gotten me a hotel stay for my birthday and so my last night in NY I watched A Long Way Down, a film adapted by a book by Nick Hornby which I enjoy, but of course, is about suicide and also, a bit depressing. Oh, and I cried relentlessly on fancy sheets.  Good thing about this trip is I became officially over New York, finally.

July had me trying to "date around" as the good people say.  It's healthy, they're telling me.  Well, I went on a few dates with one guy, a postdoc at the age of 28; how the hell does that happen?! Also, why did I keep falling for musicians and now literally every guy is trying to be or is a professor? Two professions to cross of my list, for sure.  Anyway.  He was actually pretty great but I was still too sad over the NY Numbnuts that I couldn't handle it.  Then, I met this other dude.  He was too embarrassed to meet me in person, having "met" me online, so he just wanted to come over my apartment.  Well, I figured if I didn't die, it'd be a story anyway. And I did ask him straight out: "Are you going to kill me", which he replied, "No, probably not." But seriously, not a good idea, people. Don't have random strangers come over your apartment.  Thankfully though, he did not kill me! Score! Well, this guy and I talked literally for an hour and a half.  He had some good values, I didn't mind him, but it was an hour and a half.  Two days later I received a paragraph text saying he is absolutely into me and asking if I felt the same way.  He spent the next month and a half texting me and asking me to cuddle which creeped me out.  I finally told him to stop and he agreed but not before asking if we could have a "physical" relationship.  After I said no, literally two seconds later, he said he wants to be friends at least, that I'm cool.  The next night he texted me at 11:30 pm, asking what I'm up to.  Seriously, people?! Seriously??

Then there was the week where I went out with both a Jay and a JJ.  It was becoming confusing to keep these dudes straight at this point.  Summer is supposed to be a relaxing time, but it felt like I took on a new full-time, NON-PAYING, terrible job with weird hours.  So much, "wanna get a drink at ten pm?" happening.  Honestly, no I'd rather be in bed, or at least doing something summery like throwing water balloons than meeting with you over a drink at 10pm, but sure, let's do it! JJ was actually pretty cool but he had three kids; one of whom happened because of Osama Bin Laden, I was informed five minutes into the date.  He needed some comfort from the terror of 911 and so ran into the arms of an ex and whoop, baby number one.  WHAT?! The worst/best part about the night is that I bowled a 27. Literally, a 27.

Not all was lost-or so I thought.  I did meet one guy that I actually liked and who made me forget about NY Numb-nuts.  This guy has a crazy ex who messaged me that I am a "hore" all day,  I kept texting back that truly I am not, and also, that is not how you spell whore.  But I looked past the bad spelling incident and tried to give him a try.  Unfortunately, I was a bit spent from my dating whirlwind, which includes more guys than have been mentioned, and was maxed out aka a huge bucket of nerves and dreadfully in my head.  Can he really like me? Is he gonna disappear? Does he have secret children? I was starting to become crazy too. At one point he was stressed and told me to "not take it personally".  In my experience, when a guy tells you to not take something personally, it usually means trouble is ahead.  Warning signs! Because the phrase "don't take it personally" makes me think: well then, how the hell am I supposed to take it?! Recently, this dude fell off for four or so days.  I felt the Houdini coming on.  I went on Tinder.  I'll swipe some dudes to the left, that'll make me feel better. Plus, I should probably see what is out there considering I am about to never hear from this guy again.  Well, don't you know that Don't Take It Personally is on Tinder again, how convenient! And of course, this is where I become Crazy Killah and feel completely rejected, and send out a string of insane text messages even though I am way better than the way I am acting.  Finally, my inbox is flooded with comments about how I am being cruel and how we aren't compatible anyway.  He is allergic to cats, afterall.  Here is a serious question: is every guy allergic to cats?! Seriously! IS EVERY GUY ALLERGIC TO CATS?! Speaking of being a cat lady; yo, cats can be total dicks, like guys.  Cheddar Cat has chewed up my blinds and my legs, but you know what he hasn't done? He has not told me he will call and then not called, and he has not disappeared (except for that one time where he went missing in the basement)!!!!!!!

When it boils down to it, I am not looking for someone to see EVERY SINGLE DAY or to buy me fancy dinners or to have constant heart-to-hearts with.  I just would like to meet a guy who can handle calling or texting me back and who, if he ever wants to stop seeing me, WILL TELL ME. Instead, there are the Houdini's and the claims that "I really like you, but we are not compatible" aka you're telling me a bunch of crap, but thanks.  Compatibility is a bunch of BS.  Well, maybe it isn't, but it has become a lame excuse for "this is too hard right now, but here is a buzzword that will get you off my back".

What especially kills me, is that every experience that turns south, has me second guessing myself and acting in a way that is not me.  This is something that the Killah needs to work on.  I should be very resilient by now-having been accused of grand larceny, having bowled a 27, having had bits of my heart chipped off since grade 3 or so, but I pretty much just feel like crap after all this.  Usually, this is the point where I will start "working on myself".  There was a long while where I worked so hard on myself that I became intimidated by me---who the hell can handle dating this totally fit, totally smart, totally awesome chic?! Well, it appeared that no one could.  But ya know what people, it's lonely at the top, and as the great and wise Frank would say: that's life.

And this is the portion of my life where I start listening to this song nonstop on repeat.