it's that time of year...

for the MARTINI THANKSGIVING EXTRAVAGANZA!

it's so hard to believe that it was seven (!) years ago, my freshman year at lehigh, that i was first invited to the martini household for thanksgiving. i remember sitting down to dinner and telling jeff and dianne the story of how in high school, some crazy montanan cut off the head of a deer i'd hit with my car. they immediately took me in as one of their own, quickly concluding that i was quirky enough to mesh with their mildly dysfunctional but loving family. thank god they did. it has now been seven years, and i look forward to thanksgiving every november. not only do i get to spend some quality dork-time with my bff (see below, on the right), but i get to feel like i'm home (away from home...) for a few relaxing days. i love it. and i love the martini fam.

i took these photos last year. kiffy (see left), n's little bro, doesn't seem to understand that we're getting married (sorry sarah). it's really the easiest way for me to officially become part of the family.






so as i make the long, bumper-to-bumper journey down to nj (bolt bus, free wifi...yeahh), i've been reflecting on this past year and all the things that i feel thankful for, you know, since it's the time of thanks and everything.

here is the list i've constructed. each statement is meant to be directed toward a special person in my life. to spice things up a bit, try and guess which one(s) is/are for you!!!

• thank you for taking me into your home, seven years in a row, and treating me as part of your family. you're amazing.
  
• thank you for putting up with my kitten even though he bites you. he'll grow out of it, i promise.
  
• thank you for making the trip from new york to boston just to see me.
  
• thank you for constantly reminding me about my neuropsych testing appointments because i have a terrible habit of forgetting to write things down.
  
• thank you for meeting me in vegas and being my beautiful, life-long blood sisters.
  
• thank you for pouring me stellas and entertaining my flirtations even though you're married. i really like your tattoos.
  
• thank you for being possibly the coolest person i know and rocking the half-marathon with me in style.
  
• thank you for loving my boot-dance, even though you tell me you hate it. i know you're secretly jealous of my moves.
  
• thank you for rescuing me after my bike crash, and for spending hours with me in the ER. i won't forget it.
  
• thank you for not judging me. we both know you probably should.
  
• thank you for fixing my bike even though i punched you in the face.
  
• thank you for flying all the way across the country just to come to my birthday party.
  
• thank you for paying my cell phone bill.
  
• thank you for coming to boston, smoking hookah with me, and reminiscing about our grandmother.
  
• thank you for letting me get us into trouble every time we go to the enormous room. you know how much i love trouble...
  
• thank you for that earth-shattering, toe-curling orgasm.
  
• thank you for never letting me win when we play darts. i know you know i like the challenge, despite how much i pout when i lose.
  
• thank you for the shots of jameson.
  
• thank you for understanding that i become a different person when i drink whiskey. thank you for also understanding that this person is aggressive and somewhat destructive.
  
• thank you for the dirty text messages.
  
• thank you for your love, the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket.
  
• thank you for editing my poetry without making fun of me.
  
• thank you for helping me see things like you do. thank you for inspiring me to write.
  
• thank you for being in boston. you made me love this city again.
  
• thank you for believing in me, encouraging me, and making me think that i actually may be able to swing this grad school thing.
  
  ...and of course
• thank you for reading my blog! it has been fun for me, i hope you're enjoying it. :)
  
  
  happy thanksgiving!
  xo

personal statement, version #792, 'somehow life goes on in a place so insane'

upon my first listening of the song 'whiskey bottle' by uncle tupelo, i knew i was meant to be a psychologist. i feel the lyrics perfectly capture the crux of my psychological existence.


uncle tupelo - whiskey bottle

persuaded, paraded, enebriated, and down
still aware of everything life carries on without
cause there's one too many faces with dollar sign smiles
got to find the shortest path to the bar... for a while

a long way from happiness
in a three-hour-away town
whiskey bottle over jesus
not forever, just for now
not forever, just for now

there's a trouble around, it's never far away
the same trouble's been around for a life and a day
i can't forget the sound, 'cause it's here to stay
the sound of people chasing money and money getting away

a long way from happiness
in a three-hour-away town
whiskey bottle over jesus
not forever, just for now
not forever, just for now

in between the dirt and disgust there must be
some air to breathe and something to believe
liquor and guns the sign says quite plain
somehow life goes on in a place so insane

a long way from happiness
in a three-hour-away town
whiskey bottle over jesus
not forever, just for now
not forever, just for now...

personal statement, version #387: the essence of psychology

there's a room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall of the room with a picture on the wall...............

a failure to maintain a desired pace

there has been a lag, i know.

i've been desperately and furiously attempting to write my personal statement for my graduate school applications.

and this really means a lot to me. grad school, psychology, research, a career...you know. sometimes it feels like it means everything.

i'll be wrapped around your finger.

thank you

to everyone who made my 25th my favorite birthday.

i think it's gonna be a good year.

one year wiser

last night amid celebratory drinks, my mind was bursting with philosophical thoughts associated with the movie dark city. this has happened before, and typically involves mildly inarticulate rantings that unsuccessfully elucidate the limitations of human consciousness and nature vs. nurture...blah blah blah. anyway. after sobering up and sifting through my musings, i actually came to some important realizations about the movie (and LIFE) that i naturally feel the need to disclose (in addition to the obvious, which is that jennifer connelly picks amazing roles: dark city, a beautiful mind, and labyrinth...this woman is so cool!).

to begin, the division and containment of the parasitic alien entity into dead human bodies is BRILLIANT. i love how all the embodied aliens chant together like little lemmings. i think it's such a perfect, literal display of the alien's attempt to separate its amorphous form into individuals by taking over the bodies, but its inability to rid itself of the congenital solidarity of the collective consciousness and consequently, its failure to actually realize and obtain distinctive self-awareness in each human body.

this concept is totally reflected in the "experiments" as well, because in general, the human subjects are treated as one system. the alien forms move around pieces within the system, exchanging memories and manipulating experiences until none of the subjects are really separate entities anymore; everyone is each other, everyone has shared memories and contrived, injected pasts within the contained universe that the aliens have created. it's completely ironic (and perfectly fitting) because if they really wanted to figure out the nature of the human soul, these aliens should have been studying a person as one, honing in on a singular being rather than a muddy mass of cognizance...but because they just can't grasp that idea (because of their collective nature), they insist on using this whole-system, synthesis-focused approach that doesn't really get them anywhere. HOWEVER, because their subjects are human, their self-containment prevents them from catching on to what the aliens are doing to them. so, they continue to live and trust in their memories and believe they are enclosed, individual beings.

blind, egocentric faith.

this, my friends, is precisely the difference between the humans and the aliens. the "soul," if you will. the one notion that the aliens, despite their exhaustive efforts, could never understand because they just weren't wired to look at existence in that way. it's sad, actually. i feel for them.

these are the things i contemplate now that i'm 25.

eeek!

GRE tomorrow morning. wish me luck...

i'm terrible at halloween

memorable costumes,

ages 2, 3, and 4: since it was always cold in montana, my parents insisted on finding a costume that could fit OVER my winter coat. consequently, halloween evoked my earliest experiences of humiliation. i remember being a fat little bumble bee and a fat little penguin. ugh. i hated my parents for that.

age 5: i was batman. people kept calling me batgirl and i very vehemently corrected them ("no, i'm batMAN"). this was by far my best costume ever.

ages 10, 11, 12, and 13: vampire. every year. loved every second.

ages 14, 15, and 16: devil. every year. loved every second.

age 17: scarecrow. i'm still not sure why i thought this was a good idea. the costume was bulky and plaid and i stuffed myself with straw. this was quite possibly the least sexiest display i could've come up with, and it was right during that time when all the rest of my peers had figured out that halloween is really just an excuse to look slutty. shameful.

age 19: slutty fireman. ridiculous. seriously, the costume involved galoshes over red fishnets. i guess i still didn't fully understand the concept of 'sexy-ing it up'. also, that year i attended a couples party where you were supposed to match your date. my date was spongebob squarepants. yes, i know, this made no sense at all.