PSA: I'm Friggin' TIRED!

“I’ll do it tomorrow” is such a popular phrase in my world. Whether it’s to practice for class, hang out with some friends or go out somewhere, tomorrow always seems like the better day. I'll be the first to admit that I have a streak of laziness but I'm tired of making excuses as to why I'm not the typical 25 year old running around downtown.

I just don't have the energy. I don't feel well.

That's the way it is. Don't question me, call me names or make me feel like a hermit loser. I'm not antisocial (I actually love being with my friends), I just simply don't have the energy. I'm tired, my joints hurt, my jaw hurts and I don't want to move!

In a related note, that's also exactly why I don't like to make plans. For those who I'm in touch with regularly, you'll often hear "we'll see how I feel." It's not a scapegoat. Sometimes I really do just feel.like.crap.

I love you.

Wake Up, You're Dead

This blog, I fear, has been brewing for a long time and although I'm not yet sure of how I'm going to write it, I'm sure once I get into my groove I'll be almost impossible to stop.

While discovering that tragic events have caused me to want to be closer to those I care about, I'm now finding that I'm losing even more faith in people than I already have. When did people become so evil and vile and inconsiderate? I know I'm too young to walk around lecturing, "back in my day..." but at the same time, when I was growing up I was able to play outside by myself in the neighborhood, ride my bike to elementary school, or play in the street without fear of speeding cars or disgusting kidnappers. Not to say bad things didn't happen, but it's not like today. I wouldn't let my child out of my sight this day in age.

How can people be so horrible?

I've been interested in the Jaycee Dugard case ever since she was found alive 18 years after her kidnapping. I'm interested in how her captors brainwashed her into living in their backyard in tents without trying to escape, I'm interested in what pleasure her captors got out of snatching her and keeping her as their pet. When I got home from work yesterday, the October 26, 2009 issue of People Magazine was on the dining room table with her face on it. The pictures were taken October 11, 2009. Jaycee's smiling at age 29.

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Jaycee and her two daughters, fathered by her captor, are now adjusting to a new life and as curious as I may be, I hope they get to do it in privacy. And I can't stress this enough: This needs to be a movie.

As I kept turning the pages of the magazine it only got more disturbing. A 16 year old girl, her 18 year old best friend and both of her parents were killed by her 20 year old boyfriend (whom she met online) when he got a little jealous over a text message. The article focuses mainly on how the teens were into this horrorcore lifestyle and that was probably partially to blame. He bludgeoned them to death and then remained living in the house with the corpses on the floor for 3 days. The article I read was in People Magazine, but you can read up on her story here.

That article kind of reminded me of another disturbing incident which happened in Europe in 2003 that I read about in the waiting room of a doctors office. A sick boy in England pretended to be a whole slew of different people in an internet chatroom to plot his own murder with an innocent chatter. It's very intricate, complicated, confusing and nothing less than interesting, and it can be read here. Again, a movie, please!

Anyway, I'm losing faith in people in general. There are some really disturbed people out there and it only gets worse with time. It kind of makes me want to lock myself in my house because lord knows when a friend will get upset because I forgot to put them on my top friends list on Myspace and they stab me to death.

Silly Dream: Let This Be A Lesson To Ya

I'm a huge fan of dreaming. I do it every night and I remember most of the details of every one. I also dream in color, so whoever said people don't dream in color is a moron. Moving on.

I don't share most of my dreams, there would be too many and they usually make more sense in our heads than they do when we try and verbalize them. This one, however, is a true gem. Feast your eyes:

I found a way to get Ryan Buell in Ft. Lauderdale, more specifically, my house. The details of how I did this are the part I can't remember, but I'm going to assume that I somehow used Alan as an excuse, as he's a skeptic and Ryan hunts ghosts. Friggen perfect, because now I can turn on my charm and get a few dates, or at least a run in the sack. The only problem? I failed to remove the hand-made mobile dangling from my bedroom ceiling that boldly displayed "Alicia <3 Ryan." (note: said mobile does NOT exist, there is no Ryan merch anywhere in my room unless you count his face on my desktop, cell phone and that dumb face-in-a-hole picture I created for fun located on my Facebook).
How could I have not taken that down?! Of course it ruined me, Ryan now knows that I'm a super fan (not to be confused with Sarafan) and he was angry! Before I knew it, he was kanoodling with another girl! Fury!

Moral of the story: Take down your Backstreet Boys, Hanson, Michael Phelps, Zac Efron, Michael Bublé (you get the point) pictures, posters and pathetic-grams because you never know when they'll end up in your bedroom. That goes for you, Allison.

Adventures of A&A: Kryptonite

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."

Allie: i just bought jewrag a sugarfree apple pie
Alicia: LMAO
Alicia: god damn he's so fucking cute
Alicia: i wanna eat 'em
Allie: hahaha
Alicia: i love them all
Alicia: good job, allison
Alicia: you unleashed your secret weapon and have now discovered my weakness
Allie: muaahhhahahaha
Allie: egggsellent

*cue evil theme music*

Movie Review: Paranormal Activity

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So this post is going to be fairly sort and sweet because I don't really have much to say on the subject.

Last night I saw Paranormal Activity and of course as a huge horror/thiller buff, I liked it regardless. I'm hopelessly biased. However, for all the hype it's gotten, I expected more. The idea of the story is genius: take a Blair Witch type of shoot to document a woman being tormented by a demon. The acting was good, I've seen better, but good. It was fairly easy to determine that this was, indeed, scripted. I also noticed (at least with the copy I had watched) that they didn't roll any credits as to solidify the fact that it was a real documentary - nice touch!

In all, great idea and although it won't be original, I predict a better version of this story (or a similar one) will be shot and released which I patiently await!

I'm Alive

It's always been said that flight is the safest form of travel. Statistically, this may be so, however soaring through the sky in a 200,000 lb airbus leaves me less than assured. I've always had recurring dreams of plane crashes: planes blowing up, planes plummeting, all sorts of scenarios and locations but all with one thing in common - I'm never on the plane. In my dreams I'm always witnessing the tragic event from a distance (not necessarily a safe one) and I'm always okay at the end. I chalk the dreams up to having a fear of the unknown. I don't understand how these heavy pieces of metal can stay up in the air without coming down. Hello, Newton and gravity.

I've also always been a great traveler in spite of these somber dreams, but I'm noticing as I get older, the less of an ideal traveler I become. I've started a tradition of kissing my hand and placing my kiss on the left side of the plane as I enter making sure to protect the flight (ha). I also make sure to say hello to the captains and to thank them as I exit - they're very special chauffeurs.

Needless to say, upon departing New York on the 21st, I lugged my Orange County Choppers duffle bag (mental note: invest in a duffle bag that has wheels) onto the airbus, somehow mustered up the strength to get it into the overhead compartment and took my seat in aisle 8 at the window. Not long after, a nice older gentleman took his seat in the aisle and we celebrated the empty chair between us as the plane doors closed and we backed out to take off.

I'm used to flying at night, so being able to wear sunglasses on the plane was like a special treat and I bounced my head happily as I stared out the window and lip synched to the XM Country station. Before long, the captain announced that we would soon be starting our descent and would be landing at FLL in 35 minutes. It was then that the plane started lowering into the clouds and I glanced out there curiously like a small child on her first flight.

What's the worst thing that could happen to a nervous flyer? Turbulence. I take a deep breath and continue back-seat driving. I noted the color of the clouds which were dark and  that alone gave me the indication that we were flying through rain clouds. Fine, okay. Suddenly, the plane drops. Even through my earbuds I can hear the screams of the other passengers. Simultaneously my fellow flyers and I all grabbed for whatever we could to keep us in our seats. Did you know that the first thing people instinctively try to hold is the ceiling? Neither did I until Tuesday. The plane regains control of its surroundings and we continue our descent.

I turn up the volume a little more on the XM radio. Could there be a better time for irony? Kenny Chesney, "I'm Alive" featuring Dave Matthews began to play. I laugh out loud and put my head back on the chair. Again, the plane drops and screams of horror drown out the soothing sounds of the lullaby. Although this felt like a terrifying roller coaster, there were no tracks. This time my arms went behind me and I grabbed the back of my own seat, meeting the hands of the gentleman behind me who also latched onto the back of my seat. I look up waiting for the oxygen masks to fall down. Yes, we dropped far. No, I'm not over-exaggerating.  "Flight attendants, please take your seats..." the captain ordered nervously.

THAT'S IT! As the captains regained control of their plane, I grabbed my sweater, buried my face in it and leaned toward the window so my aisle-mate wouldn't witness me cry like an 8 year old. The tears flowed as Kenny and Dave finished their song. I tried not to sniffle loudly and I stealthily let the tears roll onto my sweater. Thank goodness for those sunglasses. I made sight of the runway and muttered, "thank goodness" as the wheels gently touched down. There were some claps and laughs and "thank you Jesus'" throughout the plane.

The gentleman beside me in the aisle turned to me and asked with a smile, "feel better?"
"You heard me?!" I asked embarrassed. He still smiled and shook his head yes. "I'm not a good flyer" I said as I sniffled, no longer caring how loud I was as he already knew of my panic-session. He helped me get my bag down and I waited my turn to exit the plane.

I thanked the captains.

Adventures of A&A: Sleep on Sex

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."

Allie: ps my sheets are clean
Alicia: hahahaaaaaaaaaaaa
Alicia: that did cross my mind earlier
Allie: hahahahaha