and i fell down the stairs.

imagine, i used to come here and write things about college and the dorm and the completely insane freshmen we all hated. it's like a different world. and then i started writing about how i hate my job but i never actually did anything about it. nothing like moving and starting over. nothing that would actually make any difference. and then my mom died and i stopped writing here. that was over two years ago and sometimes it seems like yesterday that i closed the door on this outlet. well closed it enough that only bitter ramblings and halfhearted updates slipped through.

what a mess. i'm not entirely certain what to do about it. i would like to have a place where i write about the exciting turns my life is taking, beyond the scope of my waistband. the problem is that i'm not actually doing anything exiciting. or anything at all. i want to start this business but i'm not ready. we want to build a house but we're not ready for that either. the waiting is sort of killing me. the in-betweens of existing just aren't big enough to live in.

and then i got a post card from a sweetheart at ithaca. we worked together at the koi shop and we were related by chosen family, cousins by friendship. she hasn't forgotten that time that i have been choosing not to remember and it kind of makes me think that not only do i suck but i am also blind. i've been thinking i have nothing to write about because i haven't had any experiences but in honesty i've insulated myself so thoroughly against experience that i wouldn't know what to do with a worthy story if one came pouring down my arms into the keyboard.

this is me attempting to at the very least document the nothing and what i make of it. god help me if i let it flounder again, delete delete delete.

i have another interview. at a museum. ha. only took three years. if i was anymore excited my head would implode.

i have a job interview. for an actual job. and i was the first one they called. because i rock. YES! (insert over-dramatic eric lasalle move here)

some poor summer kid thinks i'm stealing his money, or something. he hasn't kept any records but he's sure he's given us more deposits than what he has in his account. except he hasn't. i spent all morning printing out papers for him, he's coming in later. if we've made a mistake, we will rectify it. but you have to prove it to me. you have to say i made x deposit on y day and you have it entered incorrectly here. you can't just say gee i should have more money what did you do with it. i don't really want people to think i steal their money, or put it in the wrong place wantonly. this is not how i wanted to spend my afternoon before vacation, trying to convince some kid that indeed he has spent a shitload of money this summer.

i just cashed five cat piss saturated checks. i need a new life, stat.

if you ask me how much cash you can deposit before you get reported, i'm gonna report you. it's that simple mastermind.

why blog when you can repeatedly post weird referrals.

1 2.78% recipes pattipan squash
1 2.78% jcrew catalog eyeglasses august
1 2.78% hamburger joint in nh
1 2.78% i'm scared to death that jenny is gonna drop her fire baton and fry like one of them... buddhist mo
1 2.78% jamaican boyfriends
1 2.78% pronounce gallaudet
1 2.78% elvis' favorite flower
1 2.78% elvis jesus jumpers clothing
1 2.78% what does the following phrase mean elvis has left the building...
1 2.78% everything i need is right here in my hands
1 2.78% what does elvis has left the building mean
1 2.78% elvis has left the building mean
1 2.78% what is the answer to 'bubbles' question in sweet/chocolate quiz?
1 2.78% stockbroker sleepwalkers
1 2.78% her cock was bigger
1 2.78% scorch marks on plastic
1 2.78% what does - has left the building mean?
1 2.78% build ice luge stand michigan
1 2.78% elvis has left the building what does it mean
1 2.78% elvis has left the building start up sound
1 2.78% what did elvis use in his hair
1 2.78% and i'm left here on my own elvis
1 2.78% new glasses pics site:blogspot.com
1 2.78% elvis has just left the building!
1 2.78% when did the phase elvis has left the building come from
1 2.78% elvis has just left the building gay
1 2.78% elvis has left the building cd
1 2.78% rupinuni
1 2.78% worls beautiful buildings
1 2.78% elvis have just left the building

i just fielded a call complaining about our branch. some guy with no money in his account wanted to cash a big ass check from out of state. they call it karma.

today's keyword searches:

2 7.41% i like kids, but i can't eat a whole one. (how i love this one!)
2 7.41% elvis has left the building (obvious)
1 3.70% how much waste was in elvis when he died (why god, why?)
1 3.70% martha stewart curiosity cabinet (i'm building one, the august issue rocks!)
1 3.70% preparation h does not work anymore (good to know)
1 3.70% most northern starbucks (?)
1 3.70% dragballs (have fun!)
1 3.70% elvis has left (yup)
1 3.70% elvis used hair products (probably)
1 3.70% elvis has left the building audio (not on this page anyway)
1 3.70% koi are goldfish (NO THEY ARE NOT)
1 3.70% elvis cant leave the building (hehehe)
1 3.70% strangers licking me (sarah, this was you wasn't it?)
1 3.70% gringo's in bar harbor (tasty)
1 3.70% what hair products did elvis use (lard)
1 3.70% bangor august 17 elvis (first bob marley, now elvis?)
1 3.70% did elvis have diabetes (probably)
1 3.70% left the building what does it mean (huh?)
1 3.70% what does elvis has just left the building mean? (oh)
1 3.70% seattlekisa yonker (happy birthday jimmy smits)
1 3.70% ice luge kit (always a favorite)
1 3.70% geddy's hotel presque isle maine (really?)
1 3.70% apple ocean elvis (celebrity children?)
1 3.70% gallaudet pronounce (the irony)

an obviously cloven-hooved woman from new jersey shook her head at me when i waved her to a stop so a mother and child could cross the street. the babies must be made of rubber in jersey, that's all i can figure. it's been quite a week for incidents in tourist-ville. some gentleman (ahem) almost hit me with his cigarette while i took my lunch time walk. and we just watched a van from new york hit a truck not once, not twice, but three times while parallel parking. and then they got out. and looked at their van. and shed not a glance at the truck. nor it's owner. who was in the bank and watched his truck get hit three times. personally, since i know that people here have rifles in their trucks, i wouldn't upset the owner of a truck in maine. but maybe new yorkers travel armed too, what do i know?

this blog is quickly becoming the assholes on vacation chronicles. i really want to chalk "I live here DAMNIT" on my hood but it probably wouldn't help. i'll just seeth until october. and drool.

"I had to park in your spot because someone was in mine." (insert pirate growl here)

do you ever look at your stats and go "who the fuck?". i expect to get random visitors from hood searches and the like, or for specific things in bar harbor, but sometimes i see who's checking in and it just confounds me. and then i think of all the blogs i read that i hate but i read them anyway just so i can say to myself "what a dumb blog". and i really wonder if that's me to all these people. wouldn't that be depressing.

it isn't as though it matters who comes here. it's on the internet for chrissakes. it boggles the mind all the folks who have internet journals marked private. what's the point. if you're going to write something on the internet you have no reasonable expectation of privacy. i'll never understand it.

i put a banana in my desk trashcan, there was an accident...it wouldn't do to dwell on it, and now all i can think about is banana bread. the smell is driving me insane. banana nutty brown sugary goodness. speaking of brown sugary goodness, i saw a recipe for my mom's famous strawberries with sour cream and brown sugar. it's not so much a recipe as dip the strawberries in sour cream and then roll them in brown sugar. it's more instructions. instructions from the mouth of god. those are some yummy strawberries, if you've never had them that way you should try it. my mom actually stole it from my sister's swanky alma mater. the only good thing she ever got from that school, or so she said. and then i saw it somewhere and i can't for the life of me find it again. it only matters because they suggest spicing the sugar with cinnamon. i'm just now sure...strawberries and cinnamon? maybe if there were chocolate involved...even then i'm not so sure. so i'm wondering what you folks think...cinnamon and strawberries yay or nay?

go ahead, keep telling me to wake up...one of these days i'm gonna be armed.

and the first thing i heard when i got back..."THEY CALL IT A CROSSWALK NEW YORK!!!". it's good to be in baaah haabaah.

someone just gave me seven grand in hundreds that smell like my grandma. does that count as mutilated currency do you think?

this poor, sad, untended blog. every time i load it i look at the currently reading and i wince. not only did i finish devil in the white city sometime in 2005 i done sold it so long ago i can't remember what the price was. does it inspire me to update, not so much. i frequently re-read books, and read parts of two or three books in the same day and sometimes i don't read at all. i slog around the internet all day, chewing my nails till they bleed because i am so bored i don't even have the will to pick up a book and turn the pages. hi! how's your day?

i don't know what the deal with the blogging is. unlike sarah, i never wanted to be a writer. despite a few english teachers telling me i had talent when i was younger. even in college, while my grammar sucked sweaty goat balls, i got some compliments on my writing. but why pursue something you might be good at when you can flounder half-assedly at something else. like a history degree. and then you can go work at a bank and write about shoe shopping all day. and then maybe you can totally ignore that site until it's really just the worlds slowest instant messenger with the adorable sarah, who also seems to have given the daily blogging the heave ho.

so, we're all heaving. and hoing. atleast i don't feel alone. but there's another secret. while i've been totally neglecting this blog for no reason except that every time i load blogger to post i sit here impotent and cranky and then go look at shoes, i've been sort of kind of writing at this other site. a fat girl site. because darrin's dance grooves really was the last straw. so i'm torn. i started that site because there were some things that just didn't seem to fit here, and there are some things that don't really fit there. over there we talk about fat stuff, like numbers and sizes and cookies and unseemly things like menstrual cycles. the content, it's different and it's often boring and frustrating and emotionally loaded. and you know, here i talk about people yelling at the atm. or i used to...when i used to tell you guys stuff.

so i'm letting the secret out. it doesn't completely explain why i haven't been posting here. i have been funneling energy somewhere else but it sure as hell isn't for lack of trying to get posts up here. i'm not killing this blog. there's too much here i don't want to lose. i'm also signing up for a writing class. summer school. i'm thinking maybe journalism but it's cheap so i could do two. for now, unless i have a project to do or something, i'm putting up the detour signs, directing you to where i am now. with full warning that it is a fat girl blog. with fat girl links, and commenters and people who cheer over the loss of a few pounds. that's where my brain is now.

there will be updates here, but i'm not going to continue the pretense that this blog is going to jump back into life. even dostoyevsky finished a novel or two, verbose muthafuckah that he was. is it so bad to finish one thing to start another?

i'm a shoe-a-holic. i just added zappos to my favorites list. three pairs this week. it's definitely a problem, my apartment's not big enough. and you know, the only thing that i can think of is that kids in the hall sketch..."don't got shoes, just got feet". no more shoes until i make a social engagement to leave my house. it doesn't matter how cheap those chinese laundry heels were, you don't wear stillettos to wash dishes.

so i'm driving myself crazy with the shopping. i'm a need to cut the cord to the internet at work. and take a chaperone to marshalls with me. you know, it must be my mom saying hi, that woman loved to shop. and you know what else, the paul simon song 'the mother and child reunion' was on in the car this morning. i couldn't help smiling. hi mom!

it's flooding where my family lives. you reckon they'd call if there was an issue huh?