Let Me Show You the World in My Eyes

Quarter-life crisis?

2008-09-22T10:42:00.000-07:00

At twenty-two-years-old, I think I am experiencing a quarter-life crisis. I feel like everyone is doing better than me and after changing my major three times, I still don't know what I want to do with my life. Then again, someone told me it sounds like I am trying to find the meaning of life. There is no definite meaning to life in a broad sense. It's different for everyone. I'm just trying to find my own calling. Although there are over six billion people on earth, we are all insignificant creatures. If we are so insignificant, doesn't it make sense for us to each pursue our own hopes and dreams? I think each human being is entitled to do so.

2008-07-12T01:22:00.000-07:00

Just before beginning this entry, I let out a big sigh.

I am so frustrated with the world right now. It seems so chaotic and downright depressing. I wonder if it has always been this way and we are just becoming more aware of the negatives. Or perhaps it is getting worse, a message repeatedly conveyed by the media. Either way, us Americans, who are used to being spoiled rotten, are hurting. I feel selfish complaining about my problems, but please just bear with me. The optimism in my last entry has gone missing. Can somebody please find it for me? I feel like I am in rat race when it comes to the job market - countless throngs of hungry people all aiming to get the same job and accompanying paycheck. I have been relentlessly searching for a job to replace one of the two I have now. Not many places seem to be hiring for the positions I am actually qualified for. When I do apply for one, I either do not get a response or I receive a brief template rejection explaining that my resume has many good qualities, but I am just not what they are looking for. At least the Ritz-Carlton sent me a letter via snailmail - neatly typed on fancy blue stationary. I am almost tempted to apply for any job as long as it pays more than what I am making now. School starts soon and a tuition awaits me. I refuse to get a loan unless I absolutely have to, which is why I am working two jobs this summer. Debt seems to be the source of many people's problems these days. Not everyone can get a scholarship or have well-off parents willing to dole out thousands of dollars each semester. Instead of life-long dreams, are all that is awaiting today's youth a future full of bills, night school, multiple jobs, and debts that seem to grow instead of decrease each payment? The carefully laid out four year plan turns into a ten year plan. It may or may not produce a diploma and an educated citizen ready to contribute something important to this world. Many will probably say to heck with it and settle for part-time "college student" jobs that turned into full-time careers because at the end of the day, it's good enough.

I am probably one of those on the ten year plan. Have you ever felt like the kid in class that is behind everyone because they're struggling for one reason or another? That's me. I feel awful because I should have graduated college this year like the rest of my high school senior class of '04. Meanwhile, I am still stuck in community college (which refuses to be called a "community" college when it really is one) in hopes of transferring to a university. What frustrates me the most is that the place I am in right now does not feel good enough for me. I want to get my bachelor's degree while I'm still in my twenties and be able to travel before I am eligible for a senior's discount. With tuition and the cost of everything else going up, it all seems just out of my reach while I am struggling to save money for my education.

I am trying to be optimistic. I am. It's just hard to stay positive when that optimism is constantly tested. Hopefully, I am not alone.

Opening a Time Capsule

2008-06-20T01:27:00.000-07:00

One of my friends from work recently started writing on Blogger. I completely forgot about my own blog, which I let accumulate two years-worth of internet dust. After several attempts of trying to access my account and then running through the Google stuff, I finally unlocked a piece of my history.

When I read my friend's blog and then skimmed over my old entries, I realized how much I miss writing down my thoughts. For months, I have felt very alone in wandering throughout a vast and tangled collection of emotions. I even lost myself for a while. Of course, I confided in family and friends, but I have been yearning to pour my heart out to something that would not judge me, give me unwanted advice, or confuse me when, instead, I desperately needed a clear head. Tonight, I realized that what I really needed was to start writing again... immediately. I put it off for such a long time. Why did I wait so long?!

It would take several entries to recap in detail what has happened to me in the last two years, but what I can write now is that I grew up... a lot. Back in 2006, I last wrote about my excitement in going to Europe again. There, I saw places I had only been able to imagine before. I explored Prague and thought I stepped into a fairy tale. I flip-flopped from rustic Buda to cosmopolitan Pest and back again before taking a romantic night cruise between them on the Danube River. My last trip that summer took me to war-torn Croatia, a mountainous and rocky country still rough around the edges from an old war that seems all-too recent. Was 2007 somewhere in the last two years? I cannot seem to remember much of it. I did press on as a bookseller like an engine running out of steam - burned out and struggling to move an inch farther. Even to this day, I still cannot detach myself from that place.

Ah, yes, now I remember what I did last year. Last summer, I visited Poland and fell in love for the first time. Let's put it this way: Girl meets boy, falls in love, goes back home, girl misses boy, gives up school for a semester and makes enough money for a second trip for the holidays. Girl has a wonderful time up until boy confesses he and girl's older cousin betrayed girl. Girl is devastated, but forgives boy. Girl goes home after ringing in 2008, comes to her senses, and dumps unworthy boy.

Needless to say, 2008 did not begin well, though it has improved by leaps and bounds. I learned many lessons in love and life. As I wrote above, I lost myself. I was blinded and utterly intoxicated by what I thought was love. When I did have a clear moment, an experience that feels like you just drank a glass of refreshing water, I did not know this person I became. Hopes and dreams that I spent a lifetime waiting for were about to disappear, all for a life with someone that was not worthy of me. After I released myself from this relationship, I became myself again and it feels GOOD. I have so much to look forward to. School is starting again in the fall. My first real love, journalism, has come back to me. Oh, and I am definitely going on another big trip next summer, maybe with some friends. It's going to be the best summer after this one.

I feel happy again because after a taking a slight (and rocky) detour, my life is heading in the right direction.

11 Days... and counting!

2006-05-13T00:29:00.000-07:00

For those of you that have traveled on an airplane, you know when they call for the first class flyers to board first? I think by the time I get the airport, I will be so thrilled that I am imagining myself trampling the Louis Vuitton-toting passengers just so I can be the first to get on the plane.

I still dont have a clue as to what I will be doing in Poland for two months. Im not concerned about that just yet, but I am a little concerned about these last two weeks leading up to my departure. The months since I got my tickets flew by so quickly (at one point I was sitting at my desk and suddenly, it dawned on me that I didnt remember where I put my tickets), and now time seems to be slowing down. The 24th cannot get here fast enough! I have a ton of preparations to make beforehand, including getting a haircut. I made an appointment at a local salon that is supposed to be one of the top twenty in the country. For what I am paying and with their reputation in mind, it better be a fantastic hair-do especially since I am getting it the day before I leave. I can see it now: Im stepping into the reception area of the terminal and the first thing my cousin laughingly sputters to his fiancée is, What the hell happened to her hair? I really do not expect it to be bad at all, however.

I've been trying to write this blog without sounding obnoxious in expressing my true feelings towards my trip to Europe. My coworkers keep asking me about when I am going, if I am excited, blah, blah, blah. I tell them what I know what they want to hear: that I AM excited, I can't wait to see my relatives, more blah, blah, blah since I also know that bragging just pisses people off. I think I will throw caution into the wind this time and just say: I'M GOING TO EUUUUUUROPE AND YOOOOOOOUUUU ARE NOOOOOOT!!

I

2006-04-06T01:01:00.000-07:00

... am counting 48 days to departure.

... want a new job.

... think drama queens suck.

... feel peaceful during the nighttime.

... should consider volunteering during my vacation in Europe.

... wish I remembered the name of my favorite Polish candy bar.

... need to think more positively.

2006-02-22T00:39:00.000-08:00

As I prepare to settle down in front of the screen and type all of my thoughts, I feel like I have the words I want to use in order to express myself. Then when I finally have my fingers resting on top of the keys, I hesitate. When I do type something, I stop and wonder if what I just wrote was good enough. I know I am not writing journal entries to please other people. Of course, they’re for me, yet when it comes to typing my inner thoughts, feelings, and emotions, many of the words that come to my mind are simply not good enough.

When I think about traveling and the adventure I am to embark on this summer, I can feel an indescribable excitement surging through me. Really, in order to know what I feel like, you have to be me. I also feel impatience and apprehension. It is impatience because, well, I want my vacation today or tomorrow; apprehension, because of my expectations and hopes for what I want this summer to be. My brother thinks I am silly and immature because my priorities are not his priorities. He ridicules me because I have a passion for exploration and learning about foreign cultures. On the other hand, I spent most of my life sheltering myself, literally scared of life and not experiencing it to the extent many other children were able to reach. In a way, traveling is my way of breaking free, to venture into other worlds and experience something that is soley my experience and nobody else’s. As children, people are able to roam free and learn about the world, playing with their peers without a care in the world. I never played sports, joined any clubs, or took part in activities which most kids were involved. I was most likely that little girl you saw at Disneyland hysterically wailing at the sight of Mickey Mouse or Goofy. Heck, I never got my picture taken with Santa Clause until I was thirteen-years-old. So while I am still young and free of many responsibilities, why shouldn’t I be able to enjoy what I love doing most? There is more to life than slaving through college and delving into a career that ties you down. I am sure that humans were not meant to spend eight hours every day in an office. Sure, I am using a cliché, but isn’t it true that many people spend their lives stuck in a job they absolutely detest while hoping that something better comes along?

2006-02-09T12:01:00.000-08:00

Don’t throw me off of the Zeppelin yet. If I’ve predicted the total of my next paycheck correctly, I should be able to buy my ticket to Europe tomorrow. Then, of course, I’ll be broke for a week until next Friday.

I would have had the money last week, but since I overdrew my checking account by forty dollars due to miscommunication, Bank of America decided to rip me off and charge me a $30 fee – five times. I got them to reverse two of them. I had to ask a manager to reverse the other three, though she refused because they refunded the first $60 as a “courtesy”. So I overdrew my account because I thought I had money on it. I made a mistake, and I admit that. Everyone makes mistakes, so why can’t they make an exception this one time? I would have understood if they refused after I did it multiple times and took advantage of leniency. From this entire episode, however, I have learned three lessons: one, Bank of America’s customer service sucks; two, use overdraft protection; and three, switch to another bank.

Anyway, I’m sitting here on the couch watching CNN recapping the Grammy Awards, and I would like to pose one of a few questions: Why the hell does Paul McCartney still have a music career? He’s an old grandfather with a waning voice and a following that is based on the fact that he is only one of two Beatles still alive. I know the Beatles “revolutionized” music, blah, blah, blah, blah, but I simply do not understand why Paul is acclaimed as a gifted solo artist.

Aside from the Beatles, The Rolling Stones is probably another band that is overrated. I was not able to tune into the Super Bowl (nor would I have wanted to), but judging from the clips and news coverage, the Stones’ performance was horrible. I think it’s about time that they each retired to their own English mansions and spare the world of sixty-year-old rockers with wrinkles bigger than their talent. Has anyone seen what Keith Richards looks like? I have the urge to inject him with a few thousand cc’s of botox myself. There are cancer survivors who have gone through intensive chemotherapy that look better than this guy.

Okay, so I’m brutal and there are probably people out there that claim my taste in music is questionable. I do like techno, world, and new age among other genres. My reasons for not liking the above mentioned bands are most likely the same reason why people don’t like what I like. I’m all open for criticism.

A New Home

2006-01-30T00:07:00.000-08:00

I am moving again, and after packing just one box of books, I look at the rest of my room full of crap to realize how much I hate moving. I was lucky last time because my parents moved from Montana to Nevada while I was still in Poland. Being on the other side of the world is an awesome excuse, isn't it?

In fact, I have moved at least five times in twenty years while most people spend most of their childhood and adolescence in the same house. On average, that's every four years that I have moved. I know I should not complain because I am sure there are families out there that have to relocate every few months, but five times to pack up your life and move is still hard. It's not because of the emotional attachment. It's the packing, loading, and unpacking that is a pain in the ass. I can't believe I have accumulated this much stuff, and I am not the kind of person who holds on to things unless it's really sentimental or I still need it. I should probably go through my things again, though I am nowhere near as bad as some people

Yesterday, I helped my mom bag clothes she intends on giving to Goodwill. The result was a mountain of seven trash bags full of apparel that could probably clothe all of Africa. Her closet was noticeably more organized; on the other hand, she still had twice as many clothes as me. My philosophy is that if I have forgotten about it and don't miss it, it might as well go in the "give away" pile.

I may have lied a little about the emotional attachment part. When I was fifteen, my parents, brother, and I moved to Montana from California. I missed California purely because of the fact that everything was so familiar and it was the only place where I grew up. It was also the first time I lived so far away from both of my sisters.

Suddenly, life thrust me into a place that had completely different people, surroundings, weather, and lifestyle. Looking back on it, I don't miss much about Montana aside from my best friend (who still lives there). It's been only a year and a half and I've forgotten most of my classmates. I absolutely did not fit in because a lot of people in my class grew up with each other.Together, they experienced those times that make life memorable - the first day of school, the first night away from home, the first point in their lives where the opposite sex was not a source of cooties. I am sure I was not the only one to be the outsider, though it certainly felt like I was alone. The exceptional few people, however, I probably will not forget because they were the only ones that ever bothered to be friendly with "that snob from California".

Being negative never amounted to anything. But I'm admitting my hypocrisy in saying that I am dreading this move. I just want the packing/unpacking done already so we can all settle in to accustom ourselves to the new house.

Maybe I should get rid of everything and buy new stuff. Ah, only in a perfect world.

My Favorite Poem

2006-01-21T01:15:00.000-08:00

"The Highwayman"

by Alfred Noyes

The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.

He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin;
He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle--
His rapier hilt a-twinkle--
His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred,
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--
Bess, the landlord's daughter--
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim, the ostler listened--his face was white and peaked--
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter--
The landlord's black-eyed daughter;
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast,
Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight
(O sweet black waves in the moonlight!),
And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon.
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor,
The redcoat troops came marching--
Marching--marching--
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side;
There was Death at every window,
And Hell at one dark window,
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest!
They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,
"Look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."

She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness,
and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest;
Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast.
She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again,
For the road lay bare in the moonlight,
Blank and bare in the moonlight,
And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.

Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear;
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.

Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight--
Her musket shattered the moonlight--
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death.

He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood!
Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat
When they shot him down in the highway,
Down like a dog in the highway,
And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,
The highwayman comes riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred,
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--
Bess, the landlord's daughter--
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

2006-01-04T00:08:00.000-08:00

Today was yet another busy day at work. People were rude, everyone was overloaded with projects that had to be done, and we were short two booksellers. I'd have to say that this past week alone has been more difficult than the weeks before Christmas. Don't people have jobs and schools to go to instead of pestering us retail people?

I finally have tomorrow and Thursday off to sit on my ass and do absolutely nothing. I earned it, considering that I work my ass off for a job that does not pay me enough to work that hard. If I manage to get dressed, I'll probably go to the movies or use one of my gift cards at the mall. Maybe if I'm ambitious enough, I'll go pay for my classes tomorrow instead of Thursday.

*Sigh*

I can't wait for summer to come.

Another year

2006-01-01T23:35:00.000-08:00

I rang in the new year by lying in bed in the dark while listening to the fireworks going off outside. I honestly did not feel like celebrating. I was not invited to a party, nor did I want to watch the ball drop in Times Square. The same thing happened last year and the years before that, only with a new number attached at the end.

I'm not trying to be cynical. I've just been so bored with life lately, that nothing really impresses or excites me anymore. When I am alone at work and performing a task on "auto-pilot", I find myself deep in thought of being somewhere else. I suppose if I am bored, then I must be boring because even after I've tried to socialize, I still find myself alone most of the time when I am not at work or school. I sometimes wonder if people really do take my sarcastic remarks and playful teasing as spiteful, bitchy, and mean. Certain people just don't know how to handle that, and they end up thinking of me as a person that should be avoided. In all honesty, no matter how outspoken I can be, I still am a shy person. It's often difficult for me to approach people first, and I usually have to consciously push myself to be the initiator. I wait for people to approach me first, and when they don't it becomes just another missed opportunity.

I begin to think that maybe I am the only person who really knows the real me. I know all my faults, weaknesses, and strong points, and you know, I accept myself for who I am. I procrastinate; I am realistic, yet I can't help but also be idealistic; I am a perfectionist to a point, I like things to go my way (but I am willing to compromise), I often see the negative aspects first before the positive ones, and I strive for the approval of my peers. At the same time, I try to be myself as much as possible. I have hypochondriac tendencies, though I insist it's a result of an extremely vivid imagination. I get jealous. I tend to dwell on things I cannot have, and feel bitter towards the people who do have what I want. I would rather avoid confrontation even though I know that when I do confront my problems, I'll feel better afterwards. I have a passion for expanding my horizons. Not a day goes by that I do not think of Europe, exotic locales, and adventures I could be having right now instead of sitting in front of this computer screen. I think ahead and prefer to have a plan instead of just "winging it". I am not a naive person. I have survived hardships that most people my age should not have experienced in the first place. Because of these hardships, I believe that I am a stronger person, and I accept obstacles as they come.

I keep waiting for something better to come along to improve my life. If I wait too long, my life will pass before me and I'll regret not doing something when I could have.

Myspace Fun

2005-12-27T03:47:00.000-08:00

I really should be sleeping considering that in the morning, my sister will be dragging my lazy butt to the gym. Then again, I never really liked doing things I "have" to do. I'll go to the gym - only because I have an inkling of desire to go.

Anyway, the real reason why I decided to post an entry at 2 AM is to rant and let my opinion be known. Those who know me personally know that I never pass up the opportunity to be brutally honest. People probably won't and don't like me for it, but some of those people also preach "honesty is the best policy". They just don't like it when the policy kicks them in the arse.

My sister, Justyna, and I were browsing myspace profiles last night laughing at all the funny things people put on their pages. A girl decided to set her display name to "Black Vomit", while a person we've known for years displays his age as 21 when he is really only 18. As I browsed some more tonight as a way to fend off boredom and get some more laughs, I've come to realize even more how superficial and shallow people can be - especially teenage girls.

If one checks out a typical profile that belongs to a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl, the pages are consistent visually and content-wise. The page is decked out in powder blue, baby pink, or some other pastel color with glittering cutesy graphics splashed everywhere. She is pictured with his dozens upon dozens of friends, and then you see the ones where she is barely clothed and positioned in a provacative pose.

Funny...

These are the same type of girls who cry that they are being stalked by some middled-aged pervent who won't leave them alone. HELLO! Is it just me, or do the above mentioned soft porn photos scream, "Come and get me, baby, I'm yours!"

I'm all for freedom of speech and expression. On the other hand, where the heck are these girls' parents? Teenage girls don't know better. Many are naive and don't think anything bad will happen to them from some innocent fun on an internet website. My parents never had much trouble with me on this issue since I have enough sense and learning experience from mistakes other people have made. I know I'm not perfect, but I know where the line between safety and danger lies.

Another observation I have made is the fact that these young girls look much older than their real age. Heck, I thought a seventeen-year-old was thirty before I read what her real age was. Just today, I helped a girl find a book in the juvenile section. She must have been twelve or thirteen years old, but she could have passed for a college student. WTF? I thought Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister were for people who were in their late teens to twenties, not for preteen princesses who "think" they're too old to shop at Limited Too.

Kids and teenagers always want to be an adult already so they can have the freedom to do whatever they want to do. What they don't realize is that the older you are, the more responsibility and maturity is required of you. Sure, you can do what you want - freedom comes with a price though. Even at nineteen, I still have a lot of growing up to do, and I struggle with the realization that I am not a little kid anymore.

In the end, I don't care what those girls decide to do. The only thing I am concerned with is when they whine about getting unwanted attention from much older men and other consequences of "just having some fun".

Christmas Eve!

2005-12-25T00:06:00.000-08:00

It was a great Christmas Eve this year. My mom and sister made tons of tasty food, we watched "A Christmas Story" together, and we were all happy with the gifts we received. The most exciting one was the one my dad got for my mom. He got her a new silver Jetta. It was hysterical watching her find the key in a small bag of wrapped chocolates! She took the silver piece (which was the only one among gold-wrapped chocolate balls) out and peeled off the foil to find the key, saying, "This isn't a key! Is it?" She couldn't believe it... even when we went outside to the driveway where she got in the car and took it for a spin.

As for me, I got a digital camera, a new mouse for my laptop, earrings, and $130 worth of gift cards.

"No Ticket"

2005-12-21T23:01:00.000-08:00

Grrrr...

Why do plane tickets have to be so expensive nowadays? I feel like I'm on a race to get the cheapest ticket possible before they hike the price up again.

I'm going to Poland the day after finals end for spring semester, and I'm anxious to buy the ticket already. The problem is that I don't have the money right now. I just paid off my credit card, and my savings is nowhere near where I want it to be. Hopefully, I can buy a ticket before February. The cheapest I have been able to find is around $1,200, and that's only if I leave on the 19th of May and buy it now. Nevermind how much it is going to be in the beginning of June.

Bah!

Random Thoughts...*cough* Rants...

It's annoying when you're playing music in iTunes and you open up a person's mypsace profile only to hear some whiny emo song blaring out of their player and blending with your own music. (Yeah, I know I have a video in my blog on myspace, but I give fair warning in the subject.)

My room feels like a walk-in closet. I either have too much crap or too little storage space. It looks fine when it's clean and organized, but as soon as I throw something on the bed or desk, the entire room looks cluttered again.

Even though I have never watched the show "24", I love the remixed version of the theme song.

I am Magdalena

2005-11-15T22:53:00.000-08:00

Ever since I began my educational career in preschool, I was known as Maggie to everyone – my teachers, friends, and pretty much anyone who would look at my real first name with a perplexed expression. Only my family members called me Magda or some endearing variation of it whether it was Madzia or Magdusia, etc. Since I started college in September, I have been trying to get everyone to call me either Magda or Magdalena. I suppose it’s because I am in the phase of my where I am creating an adult identity and attempting to find myself in a mass of confusion. “Maggie” just sounds so juvenile, overly playful, or a name you would give to a small yippy dog. If I think Maggie is a playful name, then you must assume that by going by Magda, I want to be taken as a serious person. That is absolutely not the case. I feel more comfortable with Magdalena. It is the name my parents gave me when I was born, it suits my personality, and after all, I am Polish, so why shouldn’t I go by a Polish name?

It has been tough trying to get people to call me by what I prefer being called. School is not a problem since I introduced myself as Magdalena from the beginning. Work is a different story. Some people make an honest effort to call me Magda or Magdalena. Others take it as some kind of joke and assume that I will forget about it and go back to being Maggie again. I understand that many of my coworkers and managers have known me as Maggie for almost a year, and it’s difficult to call a person something else when they get so used to the original name. Ultimately, is it really that much to ask for when I want to be called by my real name?

2005-11-10T00:27:00.000-08:00

In a few words, I am so frustrated with myself. I keep spending money on overpriced coffee at Starbucks, and charge purchases on my credit card without even thinking twice about it. If I don’t change something, I’ll probably end up being a full-blown coffee addict with a large credit debt by next year.

Not only that, but I have been neglecting my studies lately, my eating habits are less than healthy, and I am absolutely loathing my job. My priorities are fucked up. I keep telling myself I am going to do something; then, as usual, the procrastinator/slacker side of my kicks and the thought is shoved aside. I am nineteen-years-old for goodness sake. Although I may think I have taken responsibility of my life, I can hardly prove it with my latest behavior.

Firstly, I need to stop spending money on Starbucks. I don’t have to give it up completely, but my intake needs a severe cutback. As humiliated as I am to admit it, I buy two coffees a day even though after the first one, I promise myself I won’t get another one later. I’ve tried to leave all my money and cards at home, yet I somehow seem to get my hands on one when a nice coworker offers to buy. Bah.

Secondly, if school is to become a top priority, I have to actually study and do homework and balance it with recreational time and work. Ever since I took a promotion, the seven days of the week are spent either at work, at school, or on Tuesdays and Thursdays, both in the same day. A lot of people can juggle both school and full-time work with ease. I just started school, and I have not been doing so well with the whole balance thing. I am seriously considering taking a demotion next semester. I have discovered that I am not putting my heart into figuring out what I want to do for the rest of my life. In order to do that, I think I need to step back, focus on school, and enjoy my youth at a pace I can manage.

Sure, I work well under pressure, but the stress at the store is just not worth it. One might say, “Yeah, welcome to the Real World.” To be honest, the “Real World” sucks for a lot of people, but it does not have to suck for me. I am in control of my life and I want to mold it into something I will be proud of in the end. I only get one chance. I don’t want to blow it.

2005-10-05T01:05:00.000-07:00

I don't know if it's the sleepiness talking, but I've been contemplating how much people don't slow down enough to enjoy life.

A perfect example is when I am driving to and from places. I love the time I spend in my car listening to my favorite music and being able to be alone for fifteen or so minutes to just reflect upon a few thoughts. I'm driving exactly the speed limit and watching the road like I am supposed to when I look up at my rear view mirror to see some jerk tailgating me. What honestly makes this person think I am going to speed up just to satisfy the fact that they're rush or merely do not have the patience to abide by the traffic laws? I do not drive like a granny as you might think. I actually acknowledge the fact the laws are in place so I don't end up on the side of the road with my head split open and brain dangling out my window. If I am supposed to be somewhere, I usually leave my house early so I will not be stressed out trying to make it on time. Common sense? Apparently not for some people.

I often find myself breaking my own rules to not get stressed out over the little things. I constantly reassure myself that it's okay. The world will not stop turning and life will go on. Some people are so busy doing things just to survive that they forget that life is just too short. Yes, I know, it's a cliche, but it's so true.

I watched a video in my anthropology class about a woman who grew up in the Amazon and then went to live in the United States. Some of the things she said I can definitely relate to. Like her, I feel like I am trapped inside a box forced to go through a monotonous routine. I go to school four days out of the week, I work thirty-five hours in seven days, and when I do have free time, I am at home probably wondering at one moment or another what my goals are in life. I hate this trapped feeling.

I want to get out into the world and live. Living is not just physically functioning. It's feeling, seeing, smelling, touching, tasting, experiencing, learning, and discovering. I am so envious of people who are able to enjoy life this way.

Growing up

2005-09-26T22:42:00.000-07:00

I am another year older and hopefully a little wiser. Nineteen means that this is my last year as a teenager before entering my twenties and then thirties beyond that. I’ve been alive for almost twenty years, but I still have so much to learn.

I finally started college this month with four classes that include anthropology, Spanish, math, and art appreciation. It’s been only three weeks; however, I already find myself changing a bit every day. I used to be embarrassed showing off what reflects my personality since I really don’t like drawing a lot of attention to myself (I hate it when people stare at me). One example is if I’m playing my favorite music in my car with the volume up and my windows down. I used to turn down the volume at traffic lights so people would not turn and give me strange looks for the type of music I’m listening to. I don’t listen to rap, punk, or the typical genres of music you would hear on a radio station. Lately, I find myself listening to Arab techno, a fusion of traditional Middle Eastern music and modern club beats. How many people do you see rolling down the street with drums and almost indecipherable Arabic blaring out of the windows? Not many – unless you’re stuck in a Cairo gridlock.

I realize that I am caring less and less about what people think of me when I speak my mind or bring out my personality. It’s ironic because all my life I always wanted to be different from everyone else, but I did not want to get the attention a person who deviates from the norm receives.

As I mentioned in my previous entry, I am going to travel by myself in Europe next year. I am excited and curious to see what I’ll discover during my travels – both about myself and the world. For most of my life I have been sheltered and protected every step of the way by my parents. I’ve depended on them for everything: shelter, food, transportation, etc. The transition into adulthood still proves to be a confusing and difficult one. During high school they would make it seem like going to college was a shift that would be quick and maybe a little painless. To me it’s an ongoing process. Hitting eighteen does not instantly make somebody an adult. I’m still growing and learning so much about the world that, to be honest, is hard to deal with. Sure, I still live with my parents, but that does not mean I need to put off real responsibilities until I move out. I can start learning to take care of myself while I am lucky enough to be in this point of my life. The only way to learn, at least for me, is to actually go out and see if I can survive a week or two out of my comfort zone by myself. I expect that a lot of people will ask why I have to go across the world to do this when I can take a road trip somewhere in my own country. I don’t think I would learn as much if I went to New York City or Boston. They are different places, but the same lifestyle and ideas would still be there. I got a small taste of a different way of life and perspective on the world when I collectively spent six months in Poland. I want to explore more and see how well I can manage while living in a completely foreign environment.

Whether or not it is dangerous is a completely different subject. I can just as well get kidnapped, murdered, or mugged here in Vegas. In one aspect, it would be more of a danger to me in the long run if I did not go to Europe. If I never learned how to take care of myself until I moved out, say at twenty-seven, it would be even more difficult to cope with at that age. This experience could potentially make me a much better person and help my journey into adulthood.

I would be lying if I said that I was not afraid. Though it is exhilarating to think of this adventure, I am absolutely terrified at the prospect of traveling by myself in a foreign country. I will totally depend on myself, and I would not be able to shove problems away for someone else to solve.

BS aside, I just want to have this experience. I don’t have binding responsibilities holding me back. I go to school during the fall and spring, and I can take an extended leave of absence from work if I desired. I have eight months to save money, and if I am wise in my planning, I should be able to eat and rest in decent places.

Now if only my parents would stop rolling their eyes.

My Great European Vacation

2005-09-19T10:45:00.000-07:00

My first two summers in Europe were mostly spent in Poland , and when I did go somewhere, I was under the strict supervision of my cousins or a tour guide. I've decided that I am going to Europe again next summer, and when I do go, I'm traveling by myself. I can't depend on the willingness and schedules of my cousins to see places. I am nineteen-years-old, and I think that in order for me to be more independent, I have to actually take the initiative to do what I want regardless of whether or not my parents think it's safe, etc. I'm going to be living on my own sometime, and what better time to learn than when I am young, obligation-free, and have the time and money? I know I have already made the decision not have kids, but what happens when I get a real career? I won't be able to just fly halfway across the world (hopefully it will be part of my job. Haha!) and have fun.

Therefore, I'm saving what money I can and spending two months in 2006 seeing things I have not seen in my entire life. The first stop, of course, will be Prague. I don't remember what first sparked my obsession with the Czech capital, but I suppose it has something to do with the creepy Medievel look.

It's funny how I get a lot of my ideas at work because next destination idea was an epiphany. I suddenly found myself yesterday thinking back to when I got a connecting flight from Copenhagen to Poland, and the view from the window was clear enough to see the many islands of Denmark. It was astoundingly beautiful. I wish I had taken pictures because I cannot find any on the internet that resemble exactly what I remember. I can only imagine how pretty Denmark is on the ground. I always want to go to the places not many people would think of going, and that's one of the many reasons why I want to go to Denmark. A lot of Americans classify the countries of Scandinavia as one big polar wasteland (I did too) but that's not true. I meant to do some research on my break yesterday, but as usual, I zoned out in the back room.

I would be lying if I said that I am not scared at being this ambitious and going somewhere out of my comfort zone. My mother gets paranoid that something will happen to me, and honestly, so do I. I suppose if I survived venturing out in Rome by myself, I can survive a few train rides and hostel stays.

So.... does anyone want to come with me?

(More destinations to come soon....)

A Few Brief Thoughts

2005-06-05T21:47:00.000-07:00

I'm still thinking about my next blog topic/rant. Here are responses to a couple of today's headlines:

Octogenarian Nabbed in Prostitution Ring - LINDENWOLD, N.J. - "Police made a surprising discovery when they busted the alleged madam of a prostitution ring called "August Playmates": The woman running the show was an 80-year-old grandmother."

I really do not know what to make of this. It's funny. Who would have suspected an eighty-year-old granny of pimping out prostitutes? At the same time it's unfortunate considering the woman ran this business to "subsidize her Social Security checks". Social Security isn't what it used to be. Senior citizens cannot live off it alone, which forces them to turn to other options to make ends meet. I can't even imagine what it will be like for me in fifty years when I retire. I might as well start saving now - as if I do not have enough things to save for.

Two Charged in Aruba Missing Teen Case - ORANJESTAD, Aruba - "Two men were charged Sunday in connection with the disappearance last week of an Alabama teenager who was visiting the island with classmates to celebrate their high school graduation, Aruba's attorney general said. Authorities on the Dutch Caribbean island also requested a special diving team from the FBI because of rough currents in some areas, said Attorney General Caren Janssen."

Apparently people last saw the girl leaving a bar with locals guys in the middle of the night. Do people not use common sense anymore? Going someplace in the dark with strangers is practically begging to be kidnapped, raped, killed, etc. I doubt this girl is still alive.

________________

Anyway, I stayed up until one or two o' clock in the morning today tapping away on my keyboard. I was actually coming up with some pretty good ideas - not for a story, but for a travelogue I want to start. I first considered becoming a travel writer back in 2003 on my first trip to Poland. As usual, I put off making an amateur effort until last night when I decided to type up some notes on places I visited. I honestly did not write enough in my journal these past two summers, which I regret because most of what I know is coming from memory. Too bad I can't go back to Europe until next summer. Bah!

2005-06-04T21:06:00.000-07:00

Working at a bookstore has made me more conscious about how much the media has an influence on people. I always knew that, but I never really took the time to actually reflect on it. Take Oprah for instance. Almost twenty years after she first hit the airwaves, Oprah Winfrey is a multi-millionaire who graces the television screens of women around the world. Watching her show is like watching the circus. Fans give her a shrieking standing ovation for five minutes while she coyly tries to quiet them down, and then she gives a spiel about what is ahead on the hour long show. Whether it is a makeover, making one lucky person’s dream come true, or a celebrity interview, audience members, as well as American women between the ages of 18 and 100, tune in with utter fascination at what the female mogul has in store.

You’re probably asking what my point is. There is no doubt that this woman is a cult leader. The title possesses a negative connotation, but it’s true. Oprah spotlights a book on her show, and for the next few weeks, books fly off the shelves faster than water over Niagara Falls. She encourages viewers to buy the book, and those people make the trip to the store to buy the title regardless of whether or not they looked it over. They buy the book because Oprah told them to buy it and that apparently means it’s good. The woman is smart; there is no doubt about that. She knows how to make money, and who doesn’t admire such a skill? Hell, I would love to be in her shoes. I just can’t help but be annoyed with her smug attitude and the lame silliness she displays to get a few laughs. She laughs, everyone laughs. She cries, everyone cries. I highly doubt that woman is humble in real life. People tell Oprah she is great, wonderful, etc. every day. Once somebody becomes wealthy and/or gains a little power people kiss their ass and it goes to their head.

If more people read my blog, chances are that someone would probably send an opposing message to say that Oprah has changed so many lives in a positive way, blah blah, blah. Yeah, and so do many other people around the world who do not get the recognition they deserve. She is just one of millions who just happens to get a whole lot more publicity. Oprah deserves no more respect or special treatment than the average person working for the Peace Corp. Why should she?

Speaks for itself

2005-05-29T20:00:00.000-07:00

2005-05-21T20:26:00.000-07:00

It's past eight o' clock in the evening and it's only dropped down to 92 degrees outside. I think the high for today was 103 degrees. I can't believe how hot it gets here; then again, it is the desert. What else can you expect? Last night my mom and I were walking out of Wal-Mart around this time and you could literally feel the heat still rising out of the asphalt. Even at night you can fry an egg on the street!

Anyway, I haven't felt really inspired to do much of anything, let alone write a blog entry. My day-to-day life is pretty much one boring cycle. I wake up, go to work, come home, and spend my evenings alone in my room. I need a hobby, or at least a social life. I came to the realization a long time ago that I absolutely do not know how to make friends. Some people know how to make friends naturally, others find it more natural to spend time alone. I obviously fit into the later, though there are times where I just really need to have some human contact. I know I often say that I could live by myself on a desert island. Thinking about it, I would eventually go nuts living inside my own head all the time. I like to have my thoughts heard. I like being opinionated and letting people know it. The problem is, sometimes it sounds right in my head, but then it comes out completely different. People often misunderstand and take it the wrong way. Then again, there probably isn't anything wrong with me. I probably have a lot to learn from life.Speaking of life, at the moment, it is pretty much left on hold. I feel like a string marionet waiting for the curtains to open. I have some plans with my sister that I hope will happen; there's just a lot of waiting involved, and I absolutely hate waiting - waiting, and uncertainty. I feel more secure and at peace when I know that something is going to happen the way I planned. Otherwise, I have to have a back up plan and all this other crap in case my original plans don't go through. I just want things settled already. If it's not going to happen I want to know now so I still have time to do something else.

Tax Day

2005-04-15T07:48:00.000-07:00

I am proud to say that I had my taxes done over a month ago, and my return has since been deposited in my account to be spent immediately. I swear I don't know what I do with my money. A CD and book here, a pair of pants there, and suddenly my account balance dwindles. Thanks to the state of Montana, I just got my tax return from them too. Oh, and the lovely people at B&N deposited my pay last night.

I promised myself I wouldn't buy anymore books at work, but as usual, I found one that "I cannot live without". It was Unforgettable Places to See Before You Die - the photography is gorgeous. I was sitting in the store last night after finishing my shift, my eyes practically melting at the pictures as I flipped through the pages. When I was buying it, I was telling my coworker that my parents would scold me if they found out that I was spending my money on another book. (As if I haven't bought enough). Then I turn around to find my dad standing directly behind me. I don't know how long he was standing there for, but it doesn't matter since I was obviously buying a book. "Yeah, Brandy, this is my dad," I told my coworker. My dad didn't scold me, though I was expecting him to since I've been coming home lately with magazines, spending $15 - $20 each time. They have the pope on them! It's a good investment... Right?

Condemnations of the Day

2005-04-12T23:40:00.000-07:00

On rich people:

Since when does an abundance of money entitle a person to think that they are better than everyone else? Go ahead and flaunt your stupid LV bags, your gaudy "bling", your fancy cars, and nice clothes. Just don't you dare treat me as if I am lower than you are. Today, my mom was trying to get into a right lane after accidentally going the wrong way in a construction zone. Some asshole in a sleek white car doesn't have the courtesy to let the poor woman in and zooms past her - the giant hummer behind closely following. What the fuck? That pissed me off to no end, and I went off. I swore that I do not want to be rich. I am sticking to my word. I don't want that green filth to rot my heart into an empty core. All I want out of life is to be happy, healthy, and able to fulfill my dreams. I may not have an expensive car or a beautiful sprawling home, but you know what? At least when I work hard enough to be able to go on that vacation to Fiji or buy a new car, I will enjoy it more than those who go through life with a silver spoon in their mouths. To that guy who almost gave my mom a heart attack, have fun in hell. You don’t deserve my pity.

On moms who drag their screaming brats to the store:

There I was blissfully browsing through the junior section of Kohl's when I hear this deafening wailing coming just a few feet away from me. I look up and see a poor kid sitting in a shopping car, crying and moaning his head off while his oblivious mother continues with her shopping. Why can't you just put the kid out of his misery and go home? Or at least calm them down so the rest of us will be able to shop in peace? I came across at least three other children in the store like that. It may be the fact that I don't have the tolerance or patience to have kids, but I was once one of those little brats myself and I absolutely hated shopping. My mom was one of those who spent four or five hours in one store. To the mother who was in the dressing room with her son begging for mercy - your husband was right. You were taking too damn long.

Bragging

2005-04-10T07:26:00.000-07:00

I would just like to rub it in that I met Eric Bana yesterday at work. Too bad I can't remember some of it considering I was telling myself not to make myself look like an idiot. LOL.

4 Things

2005-04-04T09:20:00.000-07:00

Name 4 books on your bookshelf:
- Italia
- Rome Then and Now
- Auschwitz
- The Motorcycle Diaries

Name 4 DVDs in your collection:
- Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
- The Motorcycle Diaries
- Die Another Day
- Resident Evil

Name 4 things on your walls:
- Italy calendar
- A collage of things that describe me
- Carnival mask from Venice
- Ceramic church angel

Name 4 things in your closet:
- Clothes
- Shoes
- Linens
- Storage containers

Name 4 songs in your music collection (playlist or other):
- "Ten" - Monika Brodka
- "Parle-Moi" - Nadiya
- "Cells" - The Servant
- "Give Me the Power" - Voodoo & Serano

Name 4 real life stores you shop at regularly:
- The Limited
- Express
- Victoria's Secret
- Hollister

Name 4 animals that you've come face-to-face with in real life:
- Cat
- Dog
- Snake
- Anything at the zoo

Name 4 things in your wallet/purse:
- Oakley sunglasses
- Lip Venom
- Cash
- Debit card

A brief update

2005-04-03T12:12:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was quite an amusing day and no, I am not talking about the pope's death. That part was depressing and extremely sad. We not only lost a great man, but an unforgettable leader I am sure many of us will miss. John Paul II was one of the many reasons why I am proud to be Polish. I really wish he was still with us. The only thing we can do now is remember him and look forward to choosing a new pope. History is in the making.

Now, the reason why yesterday was amusing was because it was my oldest sister's wedding day. The photographer was forty-five minutes late - Dorota was getting so irritated because the wedding party was supposed to have a photo session an hour before the ceremony. Everything did come together and the entire day was absolutely beautiful. Both my brother-in-law and father were getting all choked up. At the reception, my brother and his best friend were just pounding down the beers (a result of an open bar). When everyone was out on the dance floor or just chilling out, my brother was nowhere to be found. Somebody later found him in a bathroom hurling his guts out. Oh, and you guys should have seen my dad dancing... to "Baby got back". Oh. My. God. My other sister and I thought we were going to die from hysterical laughter. We have never seen my dad dance like that.

Anyway, tonight we're on our way back to Vegas. I was expecting to spend at least another day here, but my dad has some stuff to take care of, tomorrow, of course. Bah.

More details to come later...

Grrr... I cannot type with acrylic nails.

Reporting in from Cali

2005-03-28T00:15:00.000-08:00

I have no better excuse for not writing a decent entry in a month other than I have been too lazy or busy with other things. At least I am honest, right?

Anyway, I have been doing something related to the wedding almost every day since I have been in California. Justyna and I had major shopping and preparing to do for the bridal shower. We spent so much money on it - even though she paid for the majority of the expenses. It didn't go too bad, but I would have changed some things now that I look back on it.

The week ahead is only going to get busier, I must say. I have to get a tan, a manicure, pedicure, and I am sure I am leaving something out. I feel like a subject on one of those make-over shows, except I have to pay for everything myself. I did get a haircut and finally bought a pair of shoes, so at least I have half of my list checked off. I can't wait until I go back to work. I'll be all California-ized, minus the fake boobs and liposuction (I already have boobs, just for the record).

Just short thoughts

2005-03-15T23:36:00.000-08:00

Okay, I have lost almost all brain function since I'm so damn tired, but I want to post something so all you're getting are my usual short thoughts (extra short tonight)...

Why do nail polishes have to have metallic coloring in them? I just want a solid color! I'm attempting to develop an original story plot. I need to get back to that. I said I would not spend money - I tried, I tried so hard, but I have to go shopping tomorrow to buy some shoes for my bridesmaids dress. Bah. I don't care if my sister does not like the style or color. I want something I can wear again.

2005-02-24T19:35:00.000-08:00

I've been spending way too much time on the computer lately - a result of having three days off, which is one day too many if you ask me. My brain is fried (ever feel as if your brain is totally detached from the rest of your body?). I'm bored. *Yawn.* Since yesterday, I have been surfing the internet off and on, aimlessly visiting sites that I've seen a thousand times already in the span of a few hours.

I desperately need and want to change my situation. I'm sick of my job. I am waiting to go to school. My days are spent at home while in the back of my mind, I know that they should be spent on something worthwhile: a hobby or God-forbid, perhaps a social life.

I want to get back into writing. Three years on the school newspaper staff seriously burned me out and pushed me near the edge of even loathing my craft, my passion. Writing was all I ever did. It was my consolation through turbulent times, a channel where I could express my thoughts and creativity.

I wrote fanfiction and often played around with original stories. I don't remember ever finishing one though. By the time I got half-way or three-quarters through with a story, writer's block reared it's ugly head and I eventually abandoned the project from frustration. Another reason why I stopped writing was because I was often disappointed with my own work. I felt so insecure about showing it to other people, because when I did let somebody else read it, the only comment I received was the same one: "It's good." What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is it good because it's actually crap and you don't want to be honest with me, or is it because it's average and just another version of the same over-used idea?

They say that an artist is his own worst critic. It's certainly the case with me. My work, according to me, was never good enough in comparison with others. To this day I am afraid of writing because I remember my dreams of gaining recognition for my stories - a dream I shared with millions of other writers. I asked myself, "Why do I deserve to stand out above others? I am no different from the next writer."

You see, while many people spend their lives trying to be normal, I always wanted (and still want to be) different from everyone else. I don't want to be part of the crowd. What's the point? I want to stand out. I want to be the colorful one in a mass of gray. To this day I respect myself because I am different.

I am an introvert-extrovert. I like to have my opinion heard loud and clear regardless if I am asked for one. I have enough respect for myself to the point where I will not and cannot let anyone make me think I am a less of a person than they are.

I believe that life is what you make it. I often catch myself wishing that I was rich only to remember that I should be thankful for what I do have. When I was fourteen my sister, Justyna, told me over a shared plate of cheesecake, that life throws challenges at you and you're a better person because of them. In my eighteen years, I have experienced so much and I thank whatever entity out there that I have been able to successfully pull myself through. People often tell me that I seem older than my years. Not because of my physical appearance, but because of the way I carry myself.

I am not naive like other teenagers are. I think of the consequences before I act (perhaps too much). I don't think I ever found myself in the many situations teenagers face because I made the choice not to do the things that led to those predicaments. I never went to keggers. I never cared if the "cool" people talked about me behind my back - I don't think they ever wasted time talking about me because I never did anything to get their attention. High school was basically just a place where I spent seven hours learning. I did not let it integrate with my life outside those walls aside from the routine homework.

I am a loner by nature, though I also like to have the company of others (but not too often). As messed up as it sounds, I think I would be able to find sanity in being stranded on a deserted island (though by all means, send Hugh Jackman and David Beckham to keep me company).

I am in love with the idea of leading a nomadic life. I can see myself spending a month in romantic Italy, the next in obscure Malta. I hope there is a job for me out there that involves this kind of traveling. You would not even have to pay me. Just pay for my hotel room, food, and transport, and you have one happy Polish girl.

I am the definition of indecisiveness. It has it's good and bad points. I am open-minded because of it. I see both sides of an argument and like to remain neutral; however, if you put me in a grocery store and had me choose between something as trivial as havarti and swiss cheese, it would take me at least ten minutes to come to a carefully thought out conclusion. Hell, I remember spending twenty minutes at the Coach factory in Carlsbad trying to pick out a purse. I eventually walked out of the store with a pink $44 bag. I kept thinking, "Rip-off, rip-off, rip-off...", but impulse rudely gave it the shaft to the back of my mind.

I am a picky person. I admit that I do have high standards when it comes to certain subjects. I know that the golden years of my life will be spent on a hammock in front of my beach-front shack in Fiji. I know what my ideal man is like right down to the last detail - he must be well-dressed, have brown or black hair, good hygeine, expressive eyes, a sexy accent... shall I go on?

I am articulate. When I am not nervous, I know what I want to say and how to say it. I know what I want out of life (at least I think I do).

I am idealistic and optimistic, but realistic at the same time. Strange, I know. World peace can never be achieved, though we can surely make one hell of an attempt to do it. Not all people are bad - they only make bad choices. When I have a bad day, I constantly tell myself, "Today may have been shitty, but tomorrow is a new day. I have another chance."

I like to rant and complain... a lot. I know it's not going to make the situation any better; then again, it's better out than in, I say.

I would rather listen than talk. My friends like to come to me to vent, and then I offer them my advice and thoughts on whatever they are upset about. It's typical of me as a Virgo to tear apart a subject to analyze it and find exactly why it is the way it is. Am I a psychotherapist in the making?

I could probably go on forever, but now that I have listened to Jimi Hendrix's best hits two times over, I think it's time that I leave you with some last short thoughts:

It's only 7:30, but I think I am ready to go to sleep. Too much time on the computer, dammit. I really should study for my driver's license. Nevada is making me take a written test before I can get one. If I had a choice, I would keep driving with my Montana one. Dad wants to move to Arizona now. I love you dad. I respect you as my father, but... get real.

2005-02-20T20:16:00.000-08:00

I'm currently half-way through a giant ceramic mug of Earl Grey tea, and sleep seems like a thousand miles away.

Tomorrow is finally my Friday at work, which reminds me that I need to get new shoes. My current ones finally decided to retire when I was walking across the front lawn (which has been replaced by little white and rusty red rocks), stumbled, and bent my left shoe out of shape. It was only a matter of time before they would break considering how much use I get out of them. Besides, I got a size bigger than I should have gotten - I forgot that leather stretched.

Anyway, I'm ready for another vacation. I wish I could go somewhere this summer, but I can't since I have to start school. Originally, I was planning on going to Brazil next month, though as soon as I realized that I have to wait to get a visa, I decided to go next year. I knew I would be cutting it close with having to get a new passport, plane ticket, and the visa. What I didn't understand is why the Brazilian consulate insisted that I buy my ticket to prove that I was planning on going. What the hell? What if they denied my visa application (highly unlikely, but still a possibility)? That would be wasting $1,000 of my money. Plus, the arrogant bastards wanted $100 just to process the application because of a reciprocation made especially for Americans; Brazilian citizens have to pay to get a visa, so they decided to slap a fee on theirs. I never went through this kind of trouble when I went to Europe. I wish it could be like the old days where you could just get up and go somewhere.

There is always next year and the rest of my life, I keep telling myself. Thus far, I seem to be going to Brazil, Italy, Poland, Spain and Fiji in 2006. I know. Good luck. Maybe I should go with the most realistic one. Justyna and I want to go to Italy together after stopping in Spain to visit a friend of hers. On the other hand, Fiji sounds awfully tempting with your cliché palm trees, white beaches, and turquoise water. Hehe. I could see myself now, sprawled out on a forgotten beach watching the rhythmic waves rolling in and out. An umbrella drink served by my Polynesian butler would definitely complete the picture!

Okay, you can stop gagging now. I'm going to make myself another mug of tea (because the remaining 1/4 is now a gross cool temperature). Before I go, I'm leaving some of my short thoughts. I remembered to include them now...

The Return of the Bunny Suicides is the sickest and most hilarious book I have seen in a long time. I highly recommend the one where a Harry Potter book crushes him - my supervisor and I were laughing to the point of being a public distraction. I want to see Constantine, but my stupid brother won't go with me to see it. I really should start reading one of the six or seven books I bought from work.

2005-02-15T18:40:00.000-08:00

Yep, I went out and spent more money. I took my mom out to lunch and bought a DVD, two CDs, and also perfume to replace the one I ran out of. You're probably wondering whatever happened to "saving money". All that went out the door as soon as I decided not to go to Europe this summer. I am finally getting my priorities straight and starting college this summer.I know it doesn't make sense. How am I saving money when I am spending it on CDs, DVDs, and clothes? Don't get me wrong - I still have money and plan on making more to get myself and education!

Hopefully, between now and then I can find a better job to replace the dead-end one I have right now at the bookstore. Sure, they're giving me more hours and decided to finally put me in a different area of the store besides the cash registers. It does not satisfy me. Selfish, maybe. Vain, perhaps. I just don't want to be one of those unhappy with their job.

Besides work, I am slowly getting my crap together for Dorota's wedding in April. I bought part of her and her fiance's gift, I have my bridesmaid's dress in my closet, I made an appointment for alterations, and I am sort of shopping around for a pair of shoes. Oh, and I also found the haircut I want!

Anyway, I'm going to cut this thing short. Maybe I'll add something later.(That means you'll see a new entry in... a few weeks.)

2005-02-11T22:01:00.000-08:00

Wait, nevermind. I suppose I can manage to churn out a biting sarcastic remarks. I keep meaning to post something every day when I am online, but you know me, I like to put things off for another day. Conveniently, I decide to... *insert long sleepy-trying-to-think-pause here* update this blog on a night where 1. I am already supposed to be in bed to get enough sleep for tomorrow - I get to wake up at five AM. Whoopee. 2. I am exhausted and delirious from a mere few hours of sleep.

My flight last night arrived in Las Vegas almost forty minutes after the original landing time. There was something about a delayed departure that made us wait for the plane, plus it took forever for the passengers on my flight to put their crap away and sit their arses down. What part of "Please take a seat and clear the aisle for other passengers so we prepare for departure" do they not understand? The stupidity of humans - an elusive mystery I will never understand. I swear that the brains of some of my fellow human beings have failed to evolve. Pity.

Anyway, enough of my bitching. I should really stop cursing. The inside of my head sounds like the thousand echoes of a trucker.

Great... it's already 10:12. I really do have to get to sleep. I need it... desperately.

Tired

2005-02-11T21:58:00.001-08:00

I wanted to write a blog tonight. Considering that I am still awake on less than four hours of sleep, I don't see it happening. Fcuk it.

I'm going to bed!

2005-02-11T21:58:00.000-08:00

I wanted to write a blog tonight. Considering that I am still awake on less than four hours of sleep, I don't see it happening. Fcuk it.

I'm going to bed!

I thought I was lucky

2005-01-26T17:39:00.000-08:00

While everyone in my family and at work was getting sick I was amazed that I was not among them. I am normally one of the first to get sick. My luck just ran out. Yesterday, I woke up feeling a sore throat coming on. I just thought I could beat it by drinking a lot of water and taking sore throat drops. Nope. This morning I woke up with a full-fledged sore throat - it got worse as the day at work dragged on. As of this moment, I totally feel like shit. My throat hurts every time I swallow, my nose is backed up like a Los Angeles freeway, and the area around my eyes and nose ache. It's probably a sinus infection... fuck. I am so relieved that I have tomorrow off.

Bah. I hate being sick. It royally sucks.

So....

2005-01-25T14:01:00.000-08:00

I am sitting here waiting for my mom to finally get ready to go out. Since waking up around nine this morning, we were planning to go shopping around the Las Vegas Strip, but because my dad had the car, we had to wait. Then dad came home and went to pick up my brother. Meanwhile, my mom is just now taking a shower - I have been ready for the past forty minutes. Bah. I'm bored. Oh, yeah, I have to make a deposit for my account. Speaking of banks, Wells Fargo and Best Buy are really irritating the living fuck out of me. A few months ago, in October, I bought a DVD at Best Buy and they offered me a free issue of Entertainment Weekly. I said yes, and they asked for my check card, which I stupidly let them use to complete the transaction. The problem was that I only had about a dollar in the account that I planned to close anyway.While I was at work a few days ago my dad called to inform me about the transaction. I have negative fifty in my Wells Fargo account (didn't close it as planned - procrastinating again). Twenty-four for a "subscription" that I never authorized, and the rest a fee for overdrawing. Jesus fucking Christ. I had to spend my lunch that day trying to get the idiots at the bank and the magazine to reverse the charges. Wells Fargo sent me a letter yesterday screaming for me to pay the fee. It's not my fault. Entertainment Weekly was supposed to reverse the charges. Apparently, the idiots are taking their sweet time giving me back my nonexistent "money". I'm glad I got a new account with Bank of America. At least they are competent people who will cooperate with me.

Don't even get me started about work. It fucking blows. They keep sticking me at cashwrap to deal with the psychotic customers. Some old guy yesterday made a scene when I asked for his photo ID with his credit card. He accused me of calling him a liar and a thief in a tone that the entire store could hear. (Checking ID with a credit card transaction is store policy as well as for his benefit). Even after I called for my manager, he impatiently barked at me to call her again while she was on her way. My manager knew I would never call a customer a liar or a thief. The bastard said he didn't have a photo ID because he was an alcoholic - they took his license away. In the meantime, his wife has stormed out of the store in humiliation while stunned customers looked on. Two ladies even stayed to defend me and say that I only asked for his ID. "She was insinuating that I was a thief!" the old guy continued to shriek as I just checked his signature with the credit card. My manager let it go. He wanted to file a complaint, sue us, and God knows what the hell else. As soon as he walked out of the store, I burst into laughter. That had to be the most amusement I ever had while at work. The rest of the day dragged on; by the time I went home, I was grumpy, tired, and hungry.

Needless to say, I really needed today off.

Valentine's Day sucks

2005-01-17T22:37:00.000-08:00

Almost immediately after Christmas, Valentine's Day gifts were already appearing throughout the store. I find myself curiously studying the pink and red-colored objects wondering about the people who would receive them from their loved ones. Then I begin to envy those people and mentally growl something about Valentine's Day being a total sham.

I told myself a few days ago that I would stop getting frustrated over not dating. (I also promised myself I would not drink coffee and stop procrastinating - haha!) I just think it's not fair how a lot of people have boyfriends/girlfriends and fail to realize what they have with them. They are totally undeserving.

Meanwhile, I am stuck out in the cold wondering what the hell I am doing wrong. Most of the frustration I feel is the fact that I do not attract attention from guys. Am I just not noticing it, or am I really that invisible? As shallow as it might sound, I look at myself in the mirror and wonder if it's my hair, the numerous freckles, my nose, my teeth, my makeup, or my eyebrows among dozens of other things. I don't have low self-esteem, if that's what you think I have. I consider myself to be attractive both physically and personality-wise. The only thing I stress about is whether or not I am attractive to other people. I'm not looking for sympathy or ego boosters. I cannot help but analyze things like this over and over until I drive myself half crazy. I get nervous and shy around guys I am attracted to, I never make eye-contact, and ultimately I look like a damn fool.

Even though I subconsciously know that dating can be a drag, I still want to know what it's like to experience what so many others talk about. I am a virgin (I said I want to date - I would like to clarify that I am not eager to lose that yet), I have never been out on a date, and embarrasingly enough, I've never been kissed. Drew Barrymore in that one movie reminds me of myself - though I thank whatever divinity out there that I am nowhere near her character on the geek scale.

What upsets me the most is that I get ignored or blown off, and when it comes to friends as well. Just this past summer in Poland I met up with a guy I exchanged a few e-mails with on a Polish website (like myspace) in my town. I was not expecting to date him or anything; however, I was looking forward to having a friend, someone to hang out with. We walked around and talked for a mere hour before he took me home (he said he was going to watch a Euro 2004 match with his brother). I thought it went well. We seemed to get along just fine. Afterwards, I sent him an e-mail with my phone number so he and I could hang out later. He never answered my e-mails. When I tried to send him an instant message twice he ignored me. What the hell did I say or do? I wanted to know why he wasn't answering me, the fucking jerk. I dwelled on it for a few days, then eventually forgot about it. I don't exactly know what the rules for friends are in Poland, but in the United States, some people have enough balls to just tell the person that they really don't want to hang out with them.

I really should stop letting myself get frustrated over all of this. If I am meant to fall in love (or have a better social life too) I suppose it will come naturally. The question is... when?

Insanity

2005-01-17T21:09:00.000-08:00

I had one hellish eight hour experience at work today. I came in this morning expecting to have a nice calm Monday. It was not until I gazed ahead at the long line of people (and kids) in front of my cash register that I remembered that it's Martin Luther King Day. Everyone was having a three day weekend. Good for them, bad for me since I barely had a second to breathe during my shift. The person who organized the schedule obviously did not remember that the 17th of January this year was a holiday, nor did they anticipate the onslaught of people that flooded the store.

What surprised me the most was that I was in an inexplicable and delightfully good mood after I got home from the bookstore. I even willingly gave my brother ten dollars when he asked me to pay him back for late fees on my Hollywood rental card. What the fuck is wrong with me? It must have been the coffee I promised myself I would not have for another month. I could not resist...dammit. It might have also been the fact that I have a refreshing nine hours of sleep last night. I passed out at ten o'clock and heavily slumbered until my alarm clock blared at seven o'clock.

Tomorrow I have the day off, and I am already wondering what I can spend my money on. All I ever do anymore on my free days is go shopping with my mom. Maybe I should go to bank and make a deposit so I won't be tempted to blow the cash I am supposed to be saving anyway. The good news is that I will have over one thousand with my next paycheck - that's a plane ticket to Italy right there (if I am lucky enough to find a discounted price).

That reminds me, I do have a valid reason for spending money. I have to buy some stationary so I can write a nice long letter to Paulina. I promised her that I would write to her, but thus far, I either keep forgetting (most used excuse .1) or haven't had the time because of work (most used excuse number .2). She must think I don't like her or something. My aunt sent me a short note with a tour catalogue she got me saying that Paulina has not received anything from me yet. I felt horrible after reading that. I don't like abandoning friends, and that's probably what she thinks I am doing.

Oh, yes, how interesting it must be to read about the miniscule details of my boring life. I am sure you are more than sick of reading my rambling - although telling by this blog's statistics nobody is reading anyway. Ha.

Thoughts of the day: Why do some people get defensive when I have to check their ID before they use their credit cards? I need a new job. I can't wait until I take time off in March/April.

Burned

2005-01-11T18:43:00.000-08:00

Remember that figurative saying that explains that once you've been burned, you'll never forget to make the same mistake again? Well, that type of incident happened this morning... literally.

I was making myself oatmeal in a mug. A mug? Yes, in a mug. It was one of those small instant packages, and it really did not make sense to heat it in a bowl. So I put it in the microwave for about a minute and a half, and I reach in to take it out when my hand gets fucking seared by the handle. I almost dropped the damn thing before letting out a silent yelp (my mom was still sleeping in the next room), which was of course accompanied by a few curses. I know exactly what you are thinking: "What an idiot!" Even after being up for two hours my brain refused to work properly - I did not think twice about grabbing a thick ceramic mug that had been heated in the microwave for ninety seconds.

The expression "Ouch!" is sorely understated. I spent the rest of the morning trying to quell the throbbing pain in my right hand and fingers. I felt like sawing it all off at the wrist when the thick layer of ointment I slathered on decided it would take its sweet time to kick in. My mom told me to take an aspirin; instead, I begged her for some morphine. Twenty minutes later, I was in the shower holding my hand to avoid having the burns come in contact with the hot water. Needless to say, as soon as I stepped out, I had a newfound sense of appreciation for those who do not have two arms.

I swear, these kind of things only happen to me. Two days ago I accidentally locked my stuff at work with somebody else's lock. That somebody else happened to be the supervisor I absolutely loathe. My register also came up exactly twenty-five dollars short in cash. I KNOW I did not give anybody more change than I should have given them because I always count back change. I have no idea where the hell that money is. Then my paycheck didn't come on time because of "a computer error". What's going to happen tomorrow? Knowing my luck it will most likely be something embarrasing like tripping over myself or running into a glass door at full speed (the last one hurts... a lot).

In light of these recent (and unintentional) screw-ups I said to hell with being cheap and saving every cent. I wanted to do something for myself; therefore, I decided to refine my feminine talent: shopping. I bought myself an expensive pair of jeans, a sweater, and three CDs (Bryan Adams, Velvet Revolver, and Duran Duran) as well as took my mom out to lunch. I felt incredibly satisfied when I got home... and then realized that I have to go to work again tomorrow at 7 AM. Then I have Thursday off, which irritates me even more because I really would like to have my two days consecutively. Bah!

Thinking (yes, I do that)

2005-01-05T22:52:00.000-08:00

Waking up at 5 AM sucks. It really does. I absolutely hate dragging my ass out of bed while it's still dark outside to wander through the freezing house. And meanwhile, the rest of my family is nestled in their nice warm beds. Hell, waking up at 7 AM was sleeping in compared to my work schedule now.

I suppose with training to stay full time at the bookstore comes some sacrifices - sacrifices which I constantly question as I stand in front of the mirror each morning looking deathly pale and bearing an impressive resemblance to a zombie from Resident Evil (a good movie, by the way). Also keep in mind that I really don't get any benefits; oh yeah, don't forget that mind-blowing wage of $6.75 per hour (note the sarcasm).

Then again, money is money. Even though I have decided not to go to Brazil (I won't be able to get my new passport and visa in time for March), I'm still saving the majority of each paycheck for yet another escapade to Europe in the summer. My sister wants me to go to Spain with her to visit a friend, and I want to invade *cough* grace Italy with one of my friends. Ah, the trouble I could get myself into. *Insert evil smirk and devil horns here.*

The only thing I am worried about (I am the eternal worrier) is whether or not we would have enough to money to survive in bella Italia. It's unbelievably expensive with rooms at even the cheapest hotels being around 100 Euros a night. Jesus, I thought about $5,000 would do for a minimum of a two week vacay, but I guess not. We would have to be sleeping underneath bridges, in tents, or with a family I would beg to take us in. I guess one of my New Years resolution should be to find a rich guy! (No, I'm not that shallow... but a little $$$ would be nice!)

Another option I've thought about is staying outside the major cities. I am very sure that it would be at least a few Euros (if that) cheaper, plus we would be seeing more than just the extremely touristy areas. The only problem would be transportation in getting to and from where we want to go, blah, blah, etc. etc. Somebody help... please?

With that tiny plea, I leave you a few final thoughts before I bury myself underneath my bed covers:

Why did my brother leave a crushed Pepsi can on the bathroom counter? Americans do not dress as well as Europeans. Are Crest white strips really safe? They make my teeth so sensitive to the point where it feels like I have no enamel and cavities are having a field day. My homemade coffee tastes better than Starbucks (you know it's good).

2004-12-28T19:32:00.000-08:00

As crazy as it sounds (yes, I know, everything I say is crazy), but staying at home on my second day off has actually made me miss work. I spent the majority of the day wandering around the house as the rain poured down outside - ironic how everyone thinks that it does not rain in Vegas. Oh yes, it does.

At one point, I went to the gym with my brother because I knew that my dad would pester me if I didn't go. I honestly was not in the mood considering I got my lovely period on Christmas and have been forced to book it to the bathroom every half hour in hopes that I wouldn't leak. I am sure you wanted to hear that.

Bah! I cannot think of anything worthwhile to write about. I want to. I really do. Look for that entry another day. I'll leave you with my usual list of thoughts...

I'm wired on my third cup of tea. I need to clean up my room, or get rid of some of my crap - I have nowhere to put certain things. I'm glad I bought that Depeche Mode album that I have wanted for so long. I really don't want to get up at 5 AM tomorrow. Movie tickets are overpriced. Meet the Fockers was better than I expected!

2004-12-15T23:12:00.000-08:00

Nothing significant has happened since my last blog entry - although I certainly hope that next time when something big does happen, it won't be a car accident.

Christmas is inching closer and closer, yet it does not feel like a holiday season. I have no reason to celebrate anything, and watching the shoppers rushing through the stores with their long gift lists, I am so grateful that I am not in their position. The four of us, being my parents, brother, and I, are only exchanging small gifts. Nothing big or expensive, but I honestly don't care. There are better and more important things that my mom should spend money on (like our monthly rent). My sister and her fiance were supposed to come to Las Vegas for New Year's. As usual, plans changed and they are not coming after all because of the plane ticket prices and the road traffic. Dorota called earlier this evening and told me that she is coming at the end of January to attend a show on the Strip, so I suppose I will be seeing my sister again. Justyna is so busy with her new job that she barely has time to breathe let alone visit us in Las Vegas.

More visitors are guaranteed, however. In the spring, Marek and Klaudia are flying from Poland for Dorota's wedding on the second of April. They also want to stay here a while to check out the sights and have some fun. Speaking of weddings, they got engaged two days ago, so it looks like I will be going to another wedding in the near future. It's also another good reason why I should go to Europe. Haha!

I am so happy for them (Marek and Klaudia). It's hard to believe that they have known each other less than a year and act as if they had known each other for much longer. Watching them together always made me so jealous that I have never experienced anything near their relationship. A part of me wishes for a boyfriend - the other part says I should be patient and let it happen when it happens. I wonder when that is going to be.

Several short thoughts: I'm drained and proud of myself. This green tea I am drinking got cold extremely fast. I want to buy a new CD. I still smell like chlorine even though I took a long shower. No more Starbucks coffee - it's too bloody expensive. I dread going to work tomorrow. Why does my hair take so long to dry? Sleep!

Things that annoy me at work

2004-12-11T23:49:00.000-08:00

1. Watching a hideously obese person walking out of Starbucks with a venti caramel frappucino topped with a shit-load of whip cream and caramel syrup before sitting their ass down in their car.

2. My hands are obviously full with the scanner and product and customer sounds off their phone number for their discount like somebody pressed the fast-forward button. Number one, do you fucking expect me to memorize your phone number when I moved here six weeks ago and still can’t remember my own? Two, do you think I can possibly manage juggling a scanner, your damn book, and type in the numbers at the same time?

3. People stand in line and come up to me asking for a gift card when a rack with the sign “GIFT CARDS” written in giant letters was standing directly in front of them the whole time.

4. I am in the middle of ringing up people’s things and they try swiping their debit or credit card through the machine. I’m not done yet, dammit!

5. My fellow employees and I stand outside the store doors before opening time waiting for a manager to let us in. Everyday, at least one customers charges through the circle and goes to the door, yanking on it like hell. So it will open for you and we’re standing out here for nothing?

6. Old people stand there and tell me they will be using their credit card when I just asked them if they were going to use their store discount card.

7. People who buy two or three hundred dollars worth of media and come back a few days later saying that they “changed their mind” and want to do a return.

8. I constantly walk back and forth through the store and nobody asks me for help. However, as soon as you go on I go on break or lunch and am on my way to the employee break room, I have customers coming at me from all sides with questions.

9. I am organizing the greeting card table. It is obvious that I am neatly stacking the cards and here comes this middle-aged lady that looks at a set of cards before putting it in the wrong pile. What. The. Fuck?

10. It’s the first transaction of the day and a customer buys a newspaper for fifty cents. They give you a hundred dollar bill and you only have about a hundred or so dollars in your register.

11. A lady came up to the head cashier and asked, "Do you have any gift cards without that guy's face on it?" The guy you are talking about, ma'am, is Shakespeare, only the greatest playwrite of all time.

12. Sometimes the volunteer gift wrappers do not get there early enough in the morning, so when an customer asks if we do gift wrapping, I have to do it. I am standing there are the table carefully wrapping the books like a pro and lady impatiently tells me that she has to go pick up her grandson in fifteen minutes. She wants me to wrap three sets of books and there is no one else there to help me. So you want me to do a shitty job, miss? No problem!

13. Today a couple and their kids gave me three gift cards to load. I write down the amount they want, and I am almost about to hit enter on the third card when they change their minds because they want ones that are "kid themed". Great. What a time to tell me NOW.

14. Another incident today was when some woman in her late fifties/early sixties came up to me and hurriedly mumbled that she did not need a gift receipt. Okay. So then I do the transaction and give her the bag when she asks where the gift receipt is. I said that she told me she did not want any. At this point, I am trying not stare at her ugly brown tar-crusted teeth that looked like they've been abused by years of smoking. She's annoyed with me, glaring at me like I am some kind of idiot, but is it really my fault that she mumbled in a noisy area of the store? I ended up having the head cashier cancel the transaction, I did a return on all the items, and gave the woman her damn gift receipt.

15. People rush up to me when I am in the middle of the store (holding something in each hand, of course) and fling a list of books at me asking where they are or if we have them. How the hell should I know? I'm not a psychic. Go to customer service! They've got the computer!

16. Shoppers lose all thought process and expect us to do the thinking for them. Not only that, but many choose to treat us booksellers as if we're uneducated dirt. They don't know us, therefore, they choose to patronize us. If it were not for the few that treated us with the respect everyone deserves, it would be extremely difficult working in an environment like the one I work in right now. At the moment, however, I think I have turned into the Christmas Grinch!

Typical luck

2004-12-06T21:45:00.000-08:00

You know, waking up this morning, I thought today was going to be a good day. My mom and I were planning on checking out a Polish store (I met a Polish woman yesterday at work; she recommended the store) then going to the gym. I also wanted to go exchange a pair of pants mom bought me at Ross for a smaller size before heading to Starbucks for my favorite grande iced sugar-free hazelnut latte with soy milk. But you know my luck.

Around noon, I was sitting in front of the television, ready and dressed with my hair freshly washed as my eyes intently watching a soap opera like I was hooked on crack. Actually, I wasn't that intr-holy shit! Does my dad really have to burst in on me like that! I almost had a heart attack! Okay, as I was saying, I wasn't that interested. I was halfway down the road towards boredom as the actors doled out the typical cheesy lines. My mom was sitting on the couch next the one I was sitting on when the phone rang. She got up, made her way into the kitchen, and as soon as I heard her shriek, "WHAT?!" in English with her heavy Polish accent, I knew something was wrong.

It turns out that my dad got in a car accident. He was stopped at a red light when some idiot didn't stop fast enough and rear-ended him. It pushed dad's Nissan Maxima into the truck in front of him and you know what the ironic part is? His was the only car that had to be towed from the scene of the accident. The other cars involved, including the one that read-ended my dad, drove away with barely a dent on their bumpers. The Nissan is currently parked on our driveway with the trunk and front pushed as if it were a giant abused coke can. My dad got out of it okay. Nothing major. He went to the hospital later and the doctors diagnosed him with strained neck muscles. My mom seems to be doing worse than he, however. She's been moping all day and groaning about the the $3,000 from her 401K that she gave my dad to fix the car. Another ironic point is the fact that the car was ready to be sold off and my dad was driving it to be smog-checked and registered at the DMV. So not only did my dad get a $1,000 ticket for no registration and no proof of insurance, but the car is only good for scrap metal and $3,000 have gone down the drain.

My dad is self-employed, making just enough money for the month to month bills with his car repair "business" he wandered into after he got laid off in 2001. You have no idea how many people have refused to give him work, preferring some snot-nosed recent college graduate instead. He's only fifty-three for Christ sake. They make him sound like a geriatric who can't make it up the stairs without clutching his heart.

Meanwhile, my mom has been sitting at the home for the past three months (since moving here) waiting until the employment agency would set her up with a job. The hospitals in the area have all given her the usual, "We have your application. Our manager will call you." The agency never calls her back and she usually has to call herself just to get an update. She got a job, apparently, but she's waiting until "they" send the confirmation for a computer class she took to get the job.

Don't get me wrong. I'm being optimistic. I call only laugh at this entire situation because things like this seem to happen to my family in waves. No matter how much we try, life seems to serve us shit on a silver platter. We have had more than our share of bad things. When will we get our share of good things?

Several short thoughts: Can I get malaria pills over the counter? I hate Bush. My hair looks horrible when I curl it outwards. I hate pop corn kernels when their shells get stuck in my gums. Never buy Asian-made cars; they're flimsy pieces of crap. I finally took four rolls of film to be developed. Las Vegas people can't drive... at all.

They say traveling broadens your horizons...

2004-12-04T18:45:00.000-08:00

Some people call my interest in traveling an obsession. I call it a passion, realizing how much the subject is a part of what I think every day. I have found myself telling my coworkers about my experiences abroad, browsing through the travel section of the bookstore, or planning my next escapade to God knows where. If somebody asked me why I love it so much, I probably could not answer them. There is no clear explanation - at least in my case. It seems like each time I think back to Europe or envision myself wandering in some other country, my lips effortlessly curl into a warm smile. Why do I like it? I just do. Take a painting for example. You don't know why your eyes are drawn to it. It could be the color, the mood, the figures (or lack of figures), the brush strokes, and a variety of other things. With traveling, it could be the adrenaline you feel as soon as you leave those airport doors, the new language, the culture, or the history. It changes the way you think and feel about the world - including your tolerance.

So, yes, you are probably thinking, "Okay, what is Maggie scheming about this time?". One question: Hong Kong or Brazil? Dorota is going to Hong Kong in January on a business trip for two weeks, and Justyna is buying a ticket to go along with her. As soon as my oldest sister called me up and told my about it, all I could think was, "I wanna go too!" Then again, I also want to fly to Brazil for two weeks in February to visit a friend. The problem is that I can only afford to go to one or the other. The downside for Hong Kong is that if Dorota's trip was canceled, that would be basically wasting several hundred bucks of my own hard earned money. With Brazil, I would be going to a warm country with beaches and of course, Carnival at the end of February. Party central. And the beach sounds so good right now with it being thirty degrees fahrenheit outside. I wanna pack my bikini and just go already!

P.S. A few short thoughts: work sucks; my feet hurt; shoppers are mean; Starbucks coffee has WAY too much sugar; I should be getting my ass ready for the gym in about... five seconds.

The holidays are here

2004-11-25T23:30:00.000-08:00

I finally started my job at a bookstore last Monday, and it feels so nice to have something to do instead of hanging out at home all day. I felt like I was in jail for a month with no purpose, no money, and no car. The last thing still irritates me the most. Here, you need to drive everywhere unless you are only going to the park. I'm limited to a giant neighborhood with identical houses and a long walk from the nearest store. In Europe I became accustomed to being able to step out the door and walk everywhere (actually having cash to spend is good too… very good). Four months seems like a relatively short time, but it is amazing how quickly you can get used to a different way of life. I never minded Suburban America until I had the chance to live somewhere else.

On the other hand, I suppose I shouldn't complain; I honestly do not have an excuse to complain anymore. Living in the Las Vegas area definitely does not compare to Montana. That state coined the phrase "middle of nowhere". Up there are temperatures cold enough to snow as early as October and as late as May. The weather itself is unpredictable and frankly, Billings, Montana is not exactly an entertainment capital. Some of the main forms of entertainment include going to the small shopping mall, seeing a movie at a theatre that is long overdue for remodeling, and of course, the ever so popular kegger (yeah, I know, it’s popular everywhere, but that is all young people up there seem to do). I remember the many times when my friend, Sylvia, and I drove around town looking for some excitement, maybe even a place where we can just chill out and talk (besides our houses). The only decent place to hang out was a coffee shop (needless to say, those places were already crowded). Now reflecting back on those days I am so grateful for the fact that I do not live there anymore. Almost everyday here in a sun-drenched day – it may be a bit cold in the winter, but the sun is still shining. I guess you can say that the sun is still shining in my own life. Moving here is a chance to start a fresh life in the real world my teachers and guidance counselors routinely lectured us about.

Anyway, today, Thanksgiving, officially kicks off the holiday season. That means that for the next month or so, we get to eat, eat, and eat some more. Oh joy. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother’s cooking and I never pass up the chance to enjoy it. Nonetheless, it just seems to be part of the quintessential American life that people around this time of year think they have an excuse to gorge themselves with food. Then, on January 2nd, gyms and fitness clubs across the U.S. are flooded with an onslaught of new enrollees determined to follow their New Year’s resolution of getting into shape. A few weeks will go by and as if on cue, the gym traffic reduces back to its usual relaxed flow of customers.

I started early. While the turkey was safe and sound in the oven, I went with my mom, brother, and older sister to the Las Vegas Athletic Club in Green Valley. The facility is awesome. No, it is downright impressive and equipped with almost everything you can possibly think of for your workout. Some salsa dancing lessons on Monday, cardio in front of a gigantic wall of television screens on Tuesday, swim laps on Wednesday, pick up a gorgeous fitness trainer on Thursday (I can dream, can’t I?), and wrap up the week on Friday with Pilates and thirty laps around the indoor track. Let’s just say that you can try something new almost everyday that you go to the gym.

I’m planning on going tomorrow, but I am not quite sure how much energy I will have left after meeting forces with holiday shoppers for eight hours. Yup, tomorrow is Black Friday, a hellish nightmare for every single major retailer. I can already see the lines winding around the store and old ladies fighting for the last set of holiday cards on sale. It’s ironic how that last one could end the shopping season on Christmas Eve as well as begin it. Please wish me luck!

As for that turkey I mentioned earlier, I’m sure the four of us will be eating left-over meat for the next week. Dinner in general was simple with the rest of the meal consisting of mashed potatoes, cooked cauliflower, coleslaw, and homemade gravy and cranberry sauce. During the transition from dinner to dessert, Michael brought out the bottle of Smirnoff vodka that had been hiding in the freezer for the past three weeks. Naturally my mom started to complain that her two youngest kids were turning into alcoholics when my brother poured some vodka into his Pepsi, and I had a shot mixed with pineapple juice. Then I had to open my mouth in an attempt to justify my desire to have a celebratory shot with the “responsible” drinking I had done over the summer. You could say I blew it.

The first time I had ever officially gotten hammered was at a wedding reception I went to with my cousin and his girlfriend in Poland. I would have had a mother of a hangover if it was not for the load of food I ate. I learned that was a good way to prevent a hangover the morning after. I only got stuffed because 1. You should never pass up a chance to take in the full experience of a Polish wedding; 2. The food was not only free, but delicious! I omitted mentioning any details of that birthday party in July. I regretted setting foot there the second I woke up the next morning with a pounding head and a stomach that felt as if someone had detonated a bomb in it. I still blame it on the bastards who ran the eight-hour long bash and served no food except for pretzel sticks. Drinking on an empty stomach is bad – very bad.

I brought up the worst case possible in trying to salvage that good girl image in my mother’s eyes. I had no real reason to get drunk that one night in Fumone other than, “I’m in Italy. Why the hell not?!” Then again, the wine was good. Even after drinking a bottle and a half of the local label, I deliberated pouring myself another glass when the ladies I had been sitting in the restaurant with took the wine out of my reach. I knew in the sea of drunken thoughts drifting through my mind that it was for the best.So there I sat the table struggling to stick my fork in the last course and cursing under my breath when the prongs would not make contact with the salad. I can still remember the judgmental looks the old stiffs in my tour group were giving me as I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I swear I did not do anything more than widely grin and laugh [hysterically] in the presence of my three equally spirited friends (though they appeared nowhere near me on the drunk scale). Most of the people on the trip thought that I was going to have one hell of a hangover the next day. I surprised them all when I bounded into the dining room in the morning looking a bit tired, but healthy nonetheless. I never told anyone, but I was not so sure about that last part when my stomach began to feel sick on the bus ride to Rome. Thank God the ache went away as soon as we got on the metro.

My parents and cynical sister remain unconvinced. I keep emphasizing that at least in the midst of my drunken stupors, I had some sense left not to do something foolish like have sex with a guy, get into a driver’s seat, or the other dangerous things people tend to do when they drink too much. I do not intend to make drinking alcohol a regular habit. On the occasion it’s fine, but I have no idea how the hell people could get plastered, put themselves through a suicidal hangover, and go out the next night to repeat it all for fun. My experiences with alcohol are limited to a few times, but you cannot say that I have learning nothing from them.

With that in mind, I hope everyone has a safe holiday season. Use your heads, and not just to shovel food into!

There is something evil there...

2004-10-24T13:30:00.000-07:00

And no, I'm not talking about myself. :pI saw The Grudge today with my sister, Dorota, and her fiance, Rich. Damn. And I thought The Ring was scary. I was sitting in the theatre jumping in my seat, looking through slits between my fingers, and almost screaming along with everyone else. That movie and the images in it are just plain creepy; the lady's face - her eyes especially - and the croak-like sound that she makes everytime she makes an appearance. I used to make that sound out of boredom sometimes while inadvertenly annoying my mother. I swear that I will never do it again. Okay, maybe I'm not going to swear, but imagining that sound and the woman in the movie makes the hair on my skin stand up.

We came home when it was barely 9:30 PM and I had the desire to stay outside instead of inside. I sat downstairs for forty-five minutes before bolting up the dark staircase and into my room where I immediately found the remote to the lights. Needless to say, I turned them on as bright as possible, closed the blinds, and switched on both the desk lamp and computer. The closet still needs to be closed - you will understand if you have seen the movie or have yet to see it.

Hey! So what if I'm a chicken?! At least I saw the movie, dammit! Some people won't watch those kinds of films at all! It gives me a rush getting the crap scared out of me even if I do go home and stay up late into the night with all the lights on.

So, yes, I'm sitting here at 1 AM listening to techno to keep me company. My bangs keep getting in my eyes. Whoever designs hair clips should seriously be fired. I try pinning my hair back only to have the pin come loose because they're always too flimsy to hold thick hair. I suppose the struggle is worth the sweet hair cut I got last week. I used to have hair going down my back and now, minus six or seven inches, the longest layer I have goes down to my clavicle. I haven't had it this short since I was a freshman in high school. It feels weird not having anything going down my back. It almost feels bare! No warmth either!

Going back to techno, I took my first gaze at the pictures my friends took at a party I went to back in July. Paulina gave me a disk with almost 300 pictures and, well, looking at the first pictures of myself instantly put me off looking at the rest. To be blunt, I was fucking smashed! On one pictures you can definitely tell I was there because of the funny glint in my eye (and stupid smile)! May God forbid anyone from getting their claws on those pictures - it's the motherload of blackmail material! I'm almost tempted to salvage the good stuff on the disk and deleting the party pics. What do I need them for anyway?