Ohhh, Betsey

This is my sister: attractive, intelligent (graduated from Holy Cross & then proceeded to get her Master's from Middlebury), funny, and one of my best friends. However, our ideas of organization differ quite greatly i.e. her way of cleaning up is quickly kicking things under her bed or dresser and stuffing items into any drawer that still has space. This is the same girl who did not even make her bed before going back to Spain (she was home for 2 weeks around Christmas and spends the rest of the year in Madrid). I often feel bad for Allison, my stepsister, who has to share a room with this beast..and I of course mean beast in the nicest terms possible. Now that I am home and I am known as the organized child (I somehow find satisfaction in being organized), my mom decided to offer to pay me to clean out Betsey's room. Now, I knew that it was going to be a project, but after just cleaning under her bed and 1/2 her closet and I already had 2 garbage bags full, I realized just how big of a process this was going to be. Here are some of the things I came across:

• 2 pairs of cow patterned slippers: 1 with just black and white spots & 1 with the full body and head complete with a cowbell
• several pairs of overalls (she was quite the avid wearer back in her day)
• my richard simmons shirt mixed in a bag filled with 2 hideous old shirts, an empty tampon box, multiple receipts, & a black shield of some sorts
• cabbage patch doll mangled in her blue velvet gym suit in the bottom corner of her closet
• tags from every piece of new clothing she must have bought along with the annoying little plastic thingies that are impossible to pick up off a flat surface
• a tampon in seriously every bag & drawer
• Timberland boots that were bought for her URI trip back in m 7th grade ... with no laces in either shoe
• Many over-sized sweatpants and sweatshirts
• HEINOUS sweaters from such places as the Weathervane circa her 8th and 9th grade years
• random plastic bags from stores that were clearly necessary to keep around all these years
• clothing in every crevice possible
• blackmail-type photos of both herself and myself from many a-year ago
• terrible army green straight-legged cargo pants
• nail polish (she never wears any)
• 3 screwdrivers & a hammer
• thread & a thimble for all those times she sews
• an EL basketball all-stars t-shirt that clearly cannot be hers as she once "took the ball in" from the baseline by simply walking...no pass, not even a dribble... and that story would be cute if she hadn't been in middle school at the time it occurred.
• my senior picture carelessly stored away in the bottom of a suitcase removed from her closet (*tear) and yet another in her top drawer mixed in with her socks & underwear... apparently she got 2
• 3 inhalers (she had to use mine when she was home because she couldn't find hers)
• an entire collection of pictures, magazine articles, and collectibles revolving around none other than THE Leonardo DiCaprio circa Titanic era
• a fine key chain collection
• 3 nearly full boxes of envelopes - a consequence most likely due to her not being able to find any when she needed them and therefore had to buy more
• More cow-themed accessories than you would ever like to own or could even imagine be owned by any individual (scarves, bandannas, cards, pictures, socks, pens to name a few)
• a Dannon yogurt still full in her backpack that she used while attending Holy Cross... about 2 years ago (it's at this point that I questioned if I should take a couple shots of vodka and then proceed to wear latex gloves because that is just nasty)
• 5 keys, 2 of which are exactly the same (my missing key?)

I don't no whether to commend her on being able to survive in this lifestyle of hers or to be severely concerned. I've never seen a girl more prepared with tampons, gum (trident, wrigley's doublemint, winterfresh, big red, orbit, juicy fruit), & sugar packets. 3 bags of salvation army clothing, 9 (NINE!) garbage bags, and multiple sneezing attacks later, her room is complete. Books are on her bookshelf (go figure), her dresser is organized by type of clothing, you can actually open her closet and she even has access to clothing and shoes that still fit her! She will be able to find things in her desk for probably the first time in her life.

About 2 hours into my organizing, I couldn't believe the things I was finding and the state her room was in, so I decided to have a little fun and document it just to show her ridiculousness. Those pictures will surely follow :)

Being Yourself

So here's to being who you want to be.
and dressing how you want to dress.
and blasting your music.
and dancing along.
and not being afraid to laugh at yourself.
and trying something new.
and falling in love.
and making new friends.
and being ridiculous.
and going crazy.
and dancing in the rain.
Here's to being yourself.

The Deer Chronicles

Having been a vegetarian for nearly 3 years, I really don't dislike too many animals. My family all knows I hate K.C., the cat who is just old and mean, but I can at least deal with him. What I can't deal with, however, is the sight of deer. It brings back one of the most traumatic events of my life and I honestly despise that animal. Now if you didn't know, I happened to kill a deer a couple of years ago. I was driving the 2.5 miles on the deserted road from my mom's house to my dad's house one night. I had pretty much just gotten onto the road and was singing along to Evanescence's song with the lyrics "And these wounds won't seem to heal...this pain is just too real"... I had probably just hit 45 mph when 2 deer ran out in front of my beloved Mazda. The first one escaped its death but the second one...well, let's just say it wasn't so lucky. Upon seeing the 2nd deer fly through the air off to the right somewhere I was slamming on my brakes and pulled to the side of the road screaming and hyperventilating and of course crying hysterically. Once I got a semi-hold of myself where I could at least talk, I called my dad where he probably could only understand "hit" and "deer" because I definitely didn't have a grip on things at all. As I waited there on the side of the road with the deer somewhere behind me (I couldn't bare to glance at the damaged deer) and the first deer that led the second one to its death (yeah, that's right, it was that first deer's fault) was lurking somewhere in the woods probably about to attack me, I thought maybe I should check out how bad Mazda is looking. So I peer up from my shrunken state over the steering wheel and all I see is this white puff of deer hair sticking straight out of my hood. I immediately began screaming and hyperventilating again...I probably should have used my inhaler. That night I couldn't fall asleep because every time I closed my eyes I just saw the deer giving me its last glance as I pounded the shit out of it a split second later. I found out a couple months later that the police officer had to shoot the poor deer since it was nearing its death anyways. I feel as though I am probably scarred for life as it is 3 years later now and I still scream as if I may have just hit a young child.

Two years later, after many deer sightings and slammed brakes and inhaler-provoked moments, I was once again driving from my mom's house to my dad's house somewhere around the hours of midnight and 1am. I once again had just gotten to about 45 mph when I slam on my brakes because at the same exact spot I hit that deer, there are 3 deer standing around, like a fucking memorial service. One actually jumps the stone wall and runs off but the other 2 just stare me down. I come to a complete stop and then begin to crawl on by at about 2 mph all the while expecting one of them to come charging at me. I begin to whimper because I am pretty much a basketcase when it comes to deer. Then of course a car comes up behind me flashing its pretty little lights into all my mirrors blinding me and having absolutely no idea what I had once again just been through - the scream, the racing heart, the tears, the I HATE DEER frustration...

Anyways, I'm hoping, perhaps, just maybe, in the near future, I might be able to maintain my composure upon the sight of that ugly, horrid four-legged, look-at-the-lights-coming-at-you-and-don't-bother-moving animal.

The Office

I've never had to really prepare myself for a job interview. Every summer I'd go around to every restaurant that was possibly hiring filling out an application and if they called, great, then I had a job for those 2-3 months. I've never actually had to worry about what to wear or what I was going to say. Today, however, clad in my black pants, collared shirt, sweater, and black stilettos, I arrived to my job interview at the same office building that just so happens to be my dad's old office building where my brother, sister, & I would spastically run around asking my dad for 35 cents so we could get yet another soda out of the old fashioned soda machine. The same office that my young dad took his diaper-wearing child (aka me circa 1987) for a relaxing day of work one Saturday only to be stuck dealing with the mess I decided to leave when my diaper didn't quite work out. Anywho, hair straightened (and probably nearly fried), lip gloss on, and palms sweaty, I headed in having absolutely no idea what to expect. Trying to act as professional as my 20 (and 8 months) year old self can be, I made my way to the office and was dismayed to find that the old soda machine no longer existed. Nonetheless I met my interviewers and sat down to find that I was not going to be asked the less than 5 questions I was hoping for or that I am perhaps used to, but to be answering lengthy questions with lengthy replies that actually involved formulating sentences and paragraphs all while trying to subconsciously tell myself not to say "um" or "uh" and to avoid my habit of connecting every phrase with "and" so as to make one gigantic run-on sentence.

• Tell me about yourself and why you decided to apply.
• It says that you have experience working in a dr's office, please explain.
• What is your greatest strength?
• What is your biggest weakness?
• Describe yourself and how you are as a team player.
• What type of people do you find you don't like?
• In dealing with patients over the phone at the dr's office, what bothered you the most? And how did you react to it?
• Describe your typical day in the office and what duties you had.
• What type of computer experience do you have?
• In the dr's office, did they have a scheduling program and how did it work?
• Describe a situation in which you had to multitask and prioritize.
• How do you keep yourself organized?
• What do you do with tasks that you don't like to do?

Just a glimpse of what those 45 minutes were filled with. AND THEN, they decided to whip out a script they had kept hidden the entire time like a teacher announcing a pop quiz in which I had to call one of my interviewers who briefly returned to his office and remind him of his appointment. Now, I would have been happier if my interviewer's last name wasn't Ciszewski. Those sz's always throw me off not to mention should the C be pronounced like a K or like an S?! By turn of luck, I actually pronounced it right (I know, go me).

I am actually really hoping for this job but I won't find out for 10 days since they have to make sure I'm not a serial killer or anything of the such. Until then, I'll continue my tv dates and starbucks dates with my bestest.

Friends & Football

A true friend is one that will get up at 5am in order to pick up her other friend at 6am to make it to L&M by 7am in forecasted freezing rain and icy roads, sit in the waiting room for 60+ minutes and eat hospital food, just so said friend, who is perhaps a little nervous, can get an mri. Love you JeJeBoo

On another note, I am very upset that the Patriots lost to the Colts (and Peyton Manning...rar)who acquired the new record of completing the biggest comeback in a championship game. Fabulous. On the other hand, I still have daaaaaaaaa bears to cheer on... but they're not as awesome as the Pats (sorry Linds).

Still Christmas

We are officially the last house in the neighborhood with christmas lights still up. As pretty as they are and as much as I absolutely love Christmas, they've gotta go. I'm somewhat embarrassed to be that family. The past couple of nights I've almost been tempted to just not turn on our outdoor lights since they're all connected. And yet, I don't think my mom and stepdad are all that bothered by it. It'll probably be February before we finally take them down. Then again, I don't know why I'm surprised - my mom never took down the fake mini-tree we put up in our living room at all last year. Christmas all year round here! Candles still in the window, lights still all lit up outside, christmas tree in the living room, garland on the stair railing, christmas decor all over the house... Yep, we're that family.

Time on My Hands

I've decided to take on this blogging thing. With taking time off from school I figure I'll have plenty of time to write down the randomness that occurs in my life - although things that piss me off will probably take priority. I've gotten the feeling that a lot of people think I just kind of go with the flow of life. On the contrary (and as my family and close friends all know) I have a lot to say. I'm not guaranteeing anything profound, though. So take a gander :)