02.14.2005

I’m bored. There are many things I could be doing, yet, I’m not. I just got a shitload of Buffy and Angel to watch from Timm. Yet, here I am, all not watching it. I have schoolwork I could do. Yes, class… the semester has commenced once again. I could do laundry, the bane of my existence. (Well, if I had quarters.) I could… I dunno, I’m sure there’s something I could do. That’s my point. There’s no need to be bored. So, here I am writing again. I feel like I’ve been neglecting Blog. Mostly because Blog was all like, “Hey, remember me? Jerk, I hate you!” So, I’m like, “Okay, okay, Blog… but I don’t have anything fun to tell you!”

Oh, Wait…

That’s kind of a lie. I have awesome plans for Valentine’s day. Which I totally ignore every other year. The only cool thing about V-Day is that it’s the two week reminder for everyone I know that my birthday is in exactly two weeks… which I never fail to point out. Making a big deal about my birthday is way cool. Pretty much any attention directed towards me is way cool. I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m starved for attention. And yes, shut up, I know it’s my own fault. Don’t even go there.

But Valentiney’s day… I’ll get back to that. How did I spend it last year? I don’t remember. How did I spend it the year before? Oh… I don’t remember. We could do this for the other twenty Valentine’s Days I’ve had throughout the rest of my life, but the answer will always be the same.

I’m not really bitter. And blah, blah, made up greeting card holiday… blah blah blah. You’ve heard it all before. Whatever. I’ve never spent a cutsie or romantic made up holiday (or not) with anyone. I haven’t done the dinner and flowers and candy and chocolate thing. Ever.

Me, not bitter. No. Because this year is so going to make up for all of it. This year will be the crowning achievement to all Valentine’s Days ever, across the world, until the end of eternity.

This February 14th is going to be a day to remember. And when I tell you what we're doing, man are you going to be so jealous of me. At this point you think I’m being sarcastic. Oh, I’ve built it up too much.

This is not sarcasm. This is really what I’m doing on February fourteenth.

I am taking a class field trip (yes, field trips in grad school) to the Virginia State Medical Examiner’s Office. We’re going to observe an autopsy.

And I get to see a freakin’ heart on Valentine’s day.

Take that, Valentine’s day. Take that.

I finally win.

Valentine’s day is going to rock.



I know, morbid. I love my humor.


End Blog.

As January Comes to a Close

It’s about that time again…

No, not football play offs or the superbowl, not the beginning of a new semester, not the days of never-ending snowfall. No, the end of January signifies something very different for me and forever will. All because of a day back in October of 1994. This January, my sister would have been 25.

January 29, 1980. Tracey Blackwell’s birthday.

October 8, 1994. The day she died.

That’s only 5,351 days of life. Not nearly enough in my book. Says so right here… *points* “Not nearly enough”.

When I was younger, I did the math and figured out the day I would become older than my older sister. I was in middle school, and don’t remember the day anymore, but what I do remember is how I didn’t feel any different. Another milestone passed and nothing happened. You turn 18, you don’t feel any different. You turn 21, everything’s the same. And now my dead sister would have been 25. Which really doesn't mean anything... but it makes me think.

Throughout high school when something happened to me that I deemed important, I’d think about how Tracey never got to experience whatever it was. No driver’s license, no first car, no prom, no graduation. I always wondered what she would have been like, how she would have grown up, what she wanted to do with her life. No college searches, no declaration of majors, no all nighters, no favorite professors, no parties, and again - no graduation. And as I head into my last semester of graduate school, and it grows closer to her birthday, I think about it all again. No grad school searches, no identity crisis, no career plans. Hell, who even knows what her future might have been like. Maybe she wouldn’t have wanted to go to grad school. Maybe her life would have been completely different from my own. Maybe what should be listed is - no first great love, no broken hearts, no husband, no kids of her own. And I guess that's the real tragedy. When you really think about it, the thing that matters most in life - is love.

So, these were the things I always thought about in regards to her death. How unfair it was, and what she was missing. How leukemia ruined everything. And how I still had no explanation as to why it all went down like it did. I struggled with it silently for a while. My family didn’t talk about it, and at the time I don’t think I would have been strong enough for that conversation anyway. Maybe I’m still not. I blamed God. Then I stopped believing in him altogether. Then I pretended to accept it.

And then I met J who sort of called me on it, and helped me sort through everything. She's got an amazing future as a psychologist.

Now, 10 years after her death, I’m finally getting closer to acceptance. I think.

And here’s why: I finally hit the weird selfish stage. Today I wasn’t thinking about all the things she missed out on, but all of the things I missed, not having her around. I mean, we were tight, when we were young. We told each other pretty much everything. And she was 13 months older than me. Meaning she had a heads up on everything that was coming my way. Just think of all the insights she would have had for me, the great advice, the help through all the coming of age drama. The friendship, the support, the years of memories.

I can only imagine what kind of a person I would have turned out to be with her influence to help shape me as we both grew up together. I feel like I would have been a better person. I feel as if I would have been more open and less cynical.

But we’ll never know.

Twenty-five. Tracey would have been twenty-five this year. A quarter of a century old. Yet, she missed a decade of it. More importantly, so did I. So did my family. And so did the rest of the world.

I miss you, Trace. But I love you more. And that's what's important.

Love.


End Blog.

Northwest Airlines

Dear M. Blackwell:

Northwest Airlines would like to take this opportunity to apologize for the delay of flight NW5717 on December 24. 2004.

Due to the severe weather conditions around our system, Northwest Airlines and its Airlink partners were forced to cancel or delay a large number of flights. As a result, many of our customers experienced significant flight disruptions and/or did not receive their luggage upon arrival at their destination.

We are very sorry for the problems that you experienced, and as a tangible gesture to ptove our commitment to customer service, I am doing the following for our valued customers.

Adding 5000 bonus miles to your WorldPerks account. You may visit our website at www.nwa.com/freqfly/ to verify these miles have been posted. Please allow 3 business days for the miles to appear.

Loyal customers are key to any company's success, and it is our goal to provide excellent service on every occasion. I hope you will give us an opportunity to restore your confidence and to welcome you on Northwest and out affiliate carriers in the near future.

Sincerely,
Lynn Pahl
Director
Customer Care and Sales Support


Why did they only apologize for flight NW5717? They didn't care about NW3437? Because that's where my bag was lost. Sure, they wouldn't tell me that they left my bag on the sidewalk at the Philly airport, but I know that's where it was. Otherwise, why did it take 2 whole days to get it back?

So, 5000 miles.

I gave them 3 business days. I didn't get free 5,000 miles yet. I currently have 14,658.

Not that I know how many miles gives me a free anything. Or that I really want to fly with them again. Seeing as how it's the second time they lost my bag. Whatever... we all know if they're the cheapest flight I'll use them again. I'm broke.

Interesting though, no?

Airplanes are amazing. They're little traveling sleep centers in the sky. Magic.

But I would have much rather had a free flight anywhere. Like Hawaii. For two. Think on that, Northwest. Think on that... maybe we can work out a compromise. Because the nonexistant 5,000 free miles are doing nothing for me. Nothing.

End Blog.

Drinking Quotes

Fun, fun weekend with my college girls. I miss PA, I miss knowing where things are and where the roads go, and I miss my girls. Badly.

Oh, and I broke my phone face plate, again. Stupid hard ground and the whole missing my pocket thing.


Quotes from January 7-9, 2005.
Annville, PA. The Styer Residence: Keep in mind most of these quotes occured during the Dice Game after a few rules had been established. You know, the good rules like - No Swearing, No using names or nicknames, No saying numbers, No using words that start with T, No using the word hate, No pointing, No touching the table, and worse... No asking questions... the penalty for rule breaking? Drinking.


Way to go, Domestic Man. ~Nik

That’s so Methodist. ~Erin

I can drink tonight, I’m not on any medication. ~Kristin

I didn’t know that. ~J
He was your boyfriend for a while, why not? ~Nik
Obviously we didn’t talk. ~J (About Andy)

Evil Bitch! ~Nik
I think that’s a nickname. ~Erin

Would you like to open? ~Andy
Ohhh! Even with a poppy thing! ~Nik

My hands are tingly. ~Nik
My whole head is numb. ~J

Is nothing a number? ~Nik
It’s a place holder. ~J
I got a place holder. ~Kristin

If I could curse, you’d be so ashamed. ~Nik

No R Rule! ~Andy

CLUMSY! ~Nik
You’re a smurf! ~J

And you need to partake also because I saw the finger. ~Andy

S-P-L-E. ~Andy

Did you call him a kitchen? ~J

Nobody drinks in New Jersey. ~J
I’m sure there are. ~Andy

Don’t let me fall me. ~Nik

That’s my boob. ~Erin
No, that’s your side. ~Nik
That’s the side of my boob. ~Erin
*moves hand, pokes again*
That’s your side. ~Nik

How do they make an island bigger? ~Erin

What is she doing, getting a picture of his ass? *turns page* Yes. ~Erin

Hey, that’s from ago. ~Erin

She likes my ass. ~Andy (from the other room)

Who is that woman? She’s clearly naked. ~Nik
No, she’s wearing shorts. ~Erin
Khakis? ~Nik
Who is this? ~Erin *points, asking Kristin*
That’s a guy! ~Kristin

Look! I have boobs! ~Erin
You both do, my dress is all saggy. ~Nik

Well, I have no boobs, what’s your problem? Luckily the flowers are hiding that fact. ~Nik

Maybe if you drew them in with the cleavage… I’d pay attention to your personality sooner or later. ~Nik

Honey, would you like a straw? Because… wow, that’s impressive. ~Nik

But I technically hate my crutches and they can go to hell. ~Kristin

Not many people have garnished my backseat. ~Erin

Why are you rolling your eyes at me? ~Nik
That’s what I do. ~J

There’s nothing in Lancaster except one way streets and confusion. ~E

Wow, I don’t think those four screws were enough. What am I missing out on? …Don’t you wanna see how it works? Because, that’s a shame, really. …This might be easier with my glasses on. ~Nik

I’m really hot, I should take this shirt off. But let me take these 10 drinks first. ~Nik

Healthy alcohol? Then what’s this then? The Alcohol of Doom? ~Nik

That’s a whole in one! ~Erin (about the die in Nikki’s mouth)

Plus fuck. ~Kristin
How do you drink fuck? ~Nik

Did it come out? I have to drink. ~Erin

CALL HIM BACK! Call him back. I’m going to be sober. ~Nik

I’m just reminding everyone of the bean dip in the fridge. ~Kristin

You sip. ~Kristin
But you don’t get drunk that way. ~Erin
ALREADY THERE… MY FRIEND. ~Nik

But at least you get to curse twice. ~Nik
And you get to say comma. ~J

I’m reminding everyone there’s bean dip! ~Kristin

*Whispers in Erin’s ear* Why? Don’t tell anyone. ~Nik

What, you think I’m not tall enough? ~Nik
No, not stable enough. ~Andy (about Nikki getting out shot glasses)

I think she’s probably the only one who could vomit on me and I wouldn’t care. ~Nik (about J)

So… SO… SO tasty. ~Nik

If we have to call 911... ~Kristin
I know the number! ~Nik

Must… pee… soon. ~Nik

Aww… wish… curse… awww. ~Nik

Hank you! ~Nik
Elcome. ~Erin

I thought you were going to the bathroom. ~Sarah
No, I was putting bean dip in the fridge. ~Erin
Fridge… the anti-oven! ~Nik

But if I dance on your lap, I don’t have to do any work. ~Nik

Still… my… go. ~Nik

Qu’est-que-ce les cheesy poofs? ~Sarah

I’m on it, I’m on it! ~J

What am I asking him? ~Nik
What time is it? In Spanish. ~J
Was or ist es? ~Kristin
Que hora es!! Hang up! Que hora es!! ~Erin

I’ll take my shirt off if you want me to. ~Nik

That wasn’t even of your front face. ~Nik (about Sarah)

My face is pinker than my shirt. ~J

I’ve never heard of brushing teeth in the middle of drinking. ~J

Oh pooh. Shit… fuck… hello! ~Kristin

Should we wait for her? ~Sarah
Don’t roll! ~Nik (from the bathroom)

I’m going to pee. Nikki, do you need it before me? ~Kristin

It’s not like I sit in the shower and ask what might could I clean? ~Nik

Mine aren’t that perky but they are flexible. ~J

Do you want to wake up and find out you ate your pen? ~Sarah

Can’t my front and back say the same thing? ~Nik



End Blog.

It's the Holiday Season... So HoopDeeDoo...

Vacation for the holidays. A time for family. And in order to make it happen, lots of traveling must occur. And apparently, mostly by me.

If I put time and energy into this post I would give you a breakdown of total time I spent traveling to somewhere and the mileage involved. I’m not putting that much effort into it. Forget it. That sounds like math.


But I will give you this:

3 hour drive from DC to Philly.

Flight number 1: delayed

Layover

Flight number 2: delayed, making the layover way too long. I’m sorry Memphis, you’re not that exciting.

Lost baggage, complete with a long ass line to stand in to say, “Hey, you lost my bag. It’s small and black and has wheels; it looks like every other bag you lost. Deliver it to this address.”

Rental car: Even though I had a reservation for an economy sized car, they didn’t have any. I was given a minivan at the economy rate. I still don’t know if that’s good or bad news, because… ew, minivan.

A very merry Christmas time, indeed… without my luggage. It arrived 2 days after I did. But, I did get to not travel anywhere for 2 whole days.

Then, more travel.

Drive to Dallas/Ft. Worth airport to pick up my sister: 2.5 hours one way, 5 total driving hours.

Then, the drive from Longview to Hondo. This is a 7.5 hour drive, not including pit stops for food and other necessities. Like gas. And… you know…

Stayed in Hondo for (wait, I’m really going to do the math…) 39 hours and 48 minutes. Then, I turned my little minivan around and drove the 7.5 hours back. (It takes 8 when you make the stops and you’re by yourself.) The good news is that I didn’t get lost.

And now, I sit here, waiting for my laundry to finish so I can pack and continue the trip with flights 3 and 4 tomorrow morning. This time I hope to not have to hang out in the Memphis airport for 5 hours. Because, really… boring.

And a few days later, I shall make the 3 hour drive from Philly to DC again and end the trip where I started.

In 10 days I have never spent so much cumulative time in a car/plane/airport in my life. I’ve just crammed 3 different trips into one huge vacation. It’s insanity. And not recommended for those of you who have not trained for years to sit on your ass and do nothing, while still not falling asleep. Seriously, leave it to the pros like me.

Parts of the trip that you may or may not read further about at a later time:
- Everyone hates my driving but me
- The weirdness of the announcement
- Animatronic Charles at the Dr Pepper Museum in Waco, TX
- Conflict of music interests between the Blackwell sisters
- Cows and Dogs
- Handguns and Bullets
- The shear number of times I did laundry and packed my suitcase
- Internet withdrawal in the middle of nowhere, TX
- The damn chiming clock (die!)
- Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper, who knew?
- How Sarah McLachlan and I made up, for now
- The Frostee and it’s impossible thickness
- My anticipation over the taped AMC episodes I missed

And, of course, whatever events occur with the trip back to Philly, whatever ends up going down on New Year’s Eve and day… and the drive home.

But now it’s time to fold my clothes and pack them all away, again.

Wit may return to my writing once I get home… however… I make no promises, and blame central time for everything.

Blog End.

My Love For Charles Alderton

Carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup and/or sugar, caramel color, phosphoric acid, artificial and natural flavors, sodium benzoate (preservative), caffeine.

These eight (or nine) things in combination make the most perfectly delicious and refreshing soft drink in the world. And if I drink seven and a half of them a day, I could totally get my daily supply of carbs. Who needs nutrition anyway? I’m nearly positive one can run on sugar and caffeine for days.

I’m an addict. Sure, it seems harmless. A simple pleasure… but try to talk to me at noon if I haven’t had had my morning soda. I’ll be going through caffeine withdrawal symptoms. Headache, crankiness, paranoia. And I mean extreme and unreasonable suspicion that you’ve stolen my liquidy goodness. Because why haven’t I had it yet? It’s NOON.

I praise the genius that is Charles Alderton. I worship at his feet. I adore him every time I pick up a frosty can and pop the top, hearing that crisp release of pressure and satisfying scrape of aluminum past aluminum. Because the first taste, that first swallow, when you’re completely parched and in need of thirst quenching… that is the best part.

The pure brilliance of the drink is that it’s good cold, it’s good warm, it’s good carbonated, it’s good flat, it’s good alone, it’s good mixed with… other things… In other words, it’s the best beverage ever created.

Charles Alderton, Mastermind. Inventor. Genius extraordinaire.

Pavlov would be proud. My mouth is watering as I write this. So, I’m cutting this praise short and venturing into the kitchen for my pop. Because, it’s almost noon, and well past time for indulgence in my favorite simple pleasure.

Oh, how I love you, Dr Pepper.

Please recycle.

Blog End.

Wisdom To Go [Stirred Not Shaken]

Profound. That is what I am.

Deep, with great perception, understanding, and knowledge. In other words, drunk.

It’s quite amazing. And legal. And sometimes I don’t know why. Other than the fact that prohibition sucked and everyone found a way around the rules. Just the act of prohibiting something makes you want it more. No wonder it didn’t stick. The golden jewel, just out of reach, the brass ring. Like the carrot in front of the tortoise, coaxing it along towards something unknown. Maybe something that’s not necessarily good for it. Like the trail of Reese’s Pieces that trapped ET in Elliot’s custody. He was totally kidnapped. Am I the only one that sees that? Just like alcohol leads some people into trouble. The great equalizer.

With the exception of me, tonight. I’m totally smart right now, and no one is around to witness it. I should use this time productively. I should study for my last final. I should learn finite math. I should cure cancer. I should… well, I’m not quite sure what to do with profoundly smart. And I’m not so sure I really do productive well. As we can see, from the creation of blog at 2am while drunk… when there are finals looming in the near future.

Productive is really not my forte. I’m more like the Queen of Slackerdom or Princess of Procrastination. It works for me. It agrees with me. It agrees with alcohol on Thursday night. This from the girl who didn’t drink on Thirsty Thursday with the rest of the college campus. Right now I can say there would be three people that would be amazingly proud of how much I’ve grown since then. I won’t name them. They know who they are.

But back to the thought I was originally trying to have… alcohol, legal at 21. As if 21 somehow makes you magically responsible. Or able to hold your liquor. Or maybe just able to conduct a stream of consciousness while under the influence. But I don’t think age matters much. I know 23 year olds who are way more responsible and apparently older and wiser than their years. I also know people who are quite opposite. They're more fun. And I think how you act under the influence of alcohol is all about the company you keep.

The sad drunk, the angry drunk, the violent drunk, the horny drunk, the funny drunk, the foolish drunk, the fall-down-drunk drunk, the to-hell-with-responsibility-I-can-blame-it-on-alcohol drunk, the giggly drunk, the depressed drunk… the rambling drunk… did I have a point? Other than “look, I know adjectives“?

We want what we can’t have. Lots. Alcohol makes that worse. Trust me. And sometimes, walking toward the light leads you to the promise land of granted wishes. And once we’ve obtained what we’ve wanted, it’s not at shiny as it appeared in the showroom window. We want what we can’t have, we don’t want it anymore once we finally get it, and we don’t realize what we have - until it’s gone. Lather, Rinse, Repeat. The circle of life... it moves us all.

My advice: Get over it. Satisfaction is never guaranteed, no matter what’s written on the packaging. Learn to want less, expect less… and sometimes you’re pleasantly surprised. Things cannot be both “new” and “improved”. Once you improve upon something, it’s no longer new. It’s just not.

So, be a slacker. Be selfish. Make yourself happy. Drink on a Thursday night after finals.

Or don’t. Because, as I’m sure you’ve noticed before, people who are drinking are always recruiting others. But who wouldn’t want to join the fun after the first drunken “I love you” slips from someone’s lips? Most of the time, I’m that kind of drunk. I’m the one who loves everyone, who touches everyone, and who thinks that every conversation is intimate, personal, and secretive. And slightly humorous if not mostly hilarious. I think I should apply that drunken philosophy to the rest of my sober life.

Spell checker rocks my world. I think it was invented for clumsy drunken fingers at 2am.

Blog End.