Yummy yummy .... I hope ....

So this where we're having the rehearsal dinner .... I sure hope my outfit is snazzy enough and that I know which fork to use ..... You got from the outside in, right???

Accepting My Age ..... kind of ,,,,

By the time I'd grown up, I naturally supposed that I'd be grown up.

--Eve Babitz

So last weekend was amazing. Incredibly refreshing, rejuvenating, and not to mention just plain fun. I mean, it was a four-day weekend ... spent on the beach. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday=BEACH. Beyond amazing.

I've developed a strange habit where I don't like to sit still on the beach (to be perfectly honest, I don't really like to sit still anywhere). I've gotten so used to just walking along the beach, drinking in the sights and sounds, when I go with Chris, that I can't imagine doing anything else while I'm there. Emily spread out her towel, lotioned up, and the just laid there. Like she had passed out. Not moving, except to make sure she was cooked evenly on both sides. Just there. I tried that for about five minutes. Couldn't do it. Brutal fail. So I announced what direction I would be heading if she need me, and I went. With no cell phone, no book, no mp3 player. It was me, the birds, God, the sand, and the sea. My gosh. There is something about nature--about water in particular--that boils my blood with a strange, maddening passion and energy. My mind snaps back and forth, processing at hundreds of miles per hour, it feels like. I see everything and nothing at all. Hear everything. My senses piqued. I desperately want to just melt into it, be a part of that glorious chaotic order. I don't leave the water when I'm walking. My feet are always wet, sometimes up to my knees. I'll do everything I can to stay in the water. It's very odd. When I was little, I wanted so desperately to be a mermaid (then I found out they were real, so I decided I would be the next Jodi Benson, the voice of the Little Mermiad .... ummm ... yeah no), and I think that's still in there, somewhere. Except the sea hates me. It lures me in, something in me aching for it, and then it turns me over and spits me out and tries to yank my top off. Yeah. Thanks. I love you too, rip currents ... or whatever you were. The one day I really dove in, Georgia came along. She and Emily, at my pleading, FINALLY budged from tanning and quickly jumped in. Now, I'll be totally honest here: I'm a wuss. No, seriously. I HATE cold water. And it was pretty cold. So while they're splashing away like dophlins, I'm easing myself in, slowly adjusting. Then the sea took care of that and pushed me over and under. I finally pop up, gasping for breath, and there are Georgia and Emily waaaaaaay out there, Emily plodding straight on ahead and Georgia giving me that confused pitying but almost amused look she throws at me so often. So I struggle to my feet and try again. Fail ... again .... and again .... each time I could have sworn I'd lost my swimsuit, but, nope, good ole Target top was a fighter, and thank goodness. We finally made it to a place where it wasn't too rough, and I continued paddling to keep up with my friends. So I'm finally comfy, safe, and happy .... then the jellyfish got me. Thank you jellies. You know that they don't have brains??? They're just floating gobs of goo with poisoned tentacles (best cure, proven by Mythbusters--vodka poured on and then brushing the sting). So yeah, I feel like I lived dangerously. ^_^







I spent that weekend at Georgia's in her amazing, big wealthy house that seems to have everything either super-sized or amazing (no, seriously, they have a spoon and fork that are four-feet long hanging on their kitchen wall ... no joke .... the TV's huge, the beds are AMAZING--like sleeping on a cloud where your body makes a dent you can't roll out of not that you want to anyways, and the pool's salt-water ... why I don't know but it is). Em and I got to hang out with Em's sister, Sarah, and Georgia's boyfriend, Matt, which was fun. Em, Georgia, and I went out to sushi--it would be violating the laws of nature for the three of us not to have sushi togther. I don't know if I can really describe the whole weekend on paper. It was more just a mood rather than events. Georgia and I caught up, which was really nice because we hadn't seen each other in a year. Emily was quiet most of the weekend. She's been quiet a lot lately. There are so many things rolling through her mind that's she's trying to sort out all at once and things just get more tangled and she feels worse rather than better. I wish I knew how to help.

On the way back, I wasn't paying attention and Emily missed an exit, so our four-and-a-half-hour drive became seven hours long. Yup. It was easy enough to fix. I had told Em the directions, then told her I was going to read the new Ted Dekker book Jessie had lent me (The Lost Books series, if anyone's interested--great, fun reads). When I double checked the directions more than an hour later, I realized that we had been driving on the same high way for more than five miles, like the directions said .... so we turned around, drove nearly two hours in the right direction, and finally corrected our course. Poor Em felt horrible, and I was bottling stress for a little bit just because, despite my love of long car rides, I was ready to be back to school early in the evening to hang out with friends and relax. Yeah .... that didn't happen. But it's all good because we made it safe and sound and without any other complications.

But yeah, that was Pensecola. Woo-hoo!

School continues. Pottsie scared the bee-jeebers out of me Wednesday--told us that he was less than satsified with our midterms and was giving us 45 minutes to redeem ourselves: we would have to go to the library, research, and correct as many answers as we could AND list sources for our corrections. Oh joy. Randle caught us on our way out, grinned, and muttered, "Spank! Spank! Spank!" while pantamiming and laughing. For some strange reason, that made me feel better. At least someone could joke about it .... that and Randle's my favorite professor. The man's a bloody genius. Once at the library, I was ready to explode or cry or both. I answered about four questions, maybe five, I can't remember, I was so nervous and wallowing in the depths of despair. Turns out I got an 80 (before the new answers) and a A- on a paper, so all my worries were for naught. That feels nice. Other than that, like I said, school is school.

I finished my first sculpture. I'm calling it "The Thinker Revisited: 2000)



I am surrounded by marital bliss. Our first day in Pensecola, there were two weddings. On the same beach. At the same time. I was caught walking between them and would stand awkwardly, trying to see if either of the happy couples happened to be two people I knew from MC, and hoping that photographer didn't capture a pale, bikini-ed, red-headed phantom lurking around in the background. It was pleasant, but still put a strange pit in my stomach. I love weddings, but I can't quite get over the fact that kids my age are marrying ... or, stranger yet, that I'm of marrying age. Don't get me wrong: I can't wait to be married, it's just weird realizing that we're finally old enough to do that.

And another friend got married: Yay Sara!!!!
And another friend got engaged!!!!!!: CONGRATS JENNY!!!!!

Like I said: still can't wrap my mind around the fact that my friends--peers, fellow kid-adult-things, whatever we are--are getting hitched. Tying the knot. Binding themselves to another for life. Preparing for procreation . . . wow, I make marriage sound like fun, don't I? -.^ lol. I think it's fantastic .... I just can't really comprehend/believe that it's finally happening to my buddies. Like Jenny ...

I mean, really, Jenny's known me since we were born--she was always my big-sister kind of friend, best friend through all of middle school where we practically lived at each other's houses and were addicted to the ABC version of Roger's and Hammerstein's Cinderella starring Brandi and Whitney Houston .... and Catherine forced us to play "bride" (hmmmm) then shot us with a toy shot gun when we didn't go to sleep like she commanded ("Babies, I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to shoot you now" we couldn't even feign the terror through our laughter) or the time when Catherine called the Barbie police because Jenny's Barbie was prettier than hers ... and Jenny got me to take a shortcut to her friend's by climbing a fence and I got my dress caught ... hanging upside down ... yeah it happened folks ... I watched Jenny give her first cheerleading routines .... I also thought she was into witchcraft at one point because I saw she had a folder labeled "Good Witch"--turns out she was playing Glinda in her school's production of The Wizard of Oz. Whew. I could go on ... but I won't put you through that -.^ And now, she's getting married. I mean ... where did the time go?!?! When did my Barbie-buddy become eligible for marriage?? a woman even! When did I? Am I?

I talked to Julie today for the first time since I left for school. Julie's not much for long distance communication, and I've grown weary of chasing her down, but we still get along well, and, usually once or twice a semester, I decide to call her and see how's she's been, just to let her know that I've been thinking of her and keep the friendship alive ... or at least on life support or something. She says that her house has been overrun with presents and that she and Ryan have everything they've asked for, for the most part, save silverware: "We don't have a single piece of silverware," she said, laughing, "I guess we'll just have to eat with our fingers!" Even for Julie, the blushing bride-to-be, the reality of marriage hasn't really set in. She says that everything's coming together beautifully, and she's extremely excited, but she almost can't believe that it's really happening. She and Ryan will start moving into their little house next week. Wow. So exciting, and so strange. I'm getting really excited for her--like the silly, fun girly giggly explosive exciting. Who knows ... I may even cry at the wedding. Wow, that would be something, lol.

Anyways, can't think of much else to say. Like I said, school, continues. Work continues. I sleep, I eat, I play. Nothing too thrilling. I have a new movie quote that describes my existence. From "Almost Famous" : "Dude, I'm always home. I'm uncool."
Amen, brother. Amen.

Well, this is Pete the Petey, over and out.
You stay classy, San Diego.

Bring Me That Horizon

Vacation used to be a luxury, however, in today's world, it has become a necessity.
--Unknown

Miami Beach is where neon goes to die.
--Lenny Bruce

So I'm heading to my favorite town on the East Coast this week, and gosh, am I thrilled. The last time I dropped in to visit my old roomie and enjoy catching some rays, swimming in the gulf (and hunting hermit crabs, avoiding jellies, and finding a wild sting ray YAY!!!) was Labor Day weekend '07. Wow. It's been too long. It's sad that this might be my last trip . It's definitely the last of my college career. I have ten weeks left of college. That's it. Count em. Ten. Weeeeeeiiiiiird. I've spent my entire life from the age of five trying to get to this place, and now I'm here and I have no clue what to do with my life. So many of my friends are looking into grad school--I don't really have the time or the money, sadly, but I'm not too beat up about it ... that is, until people look at me like I'm nuts. It's all good, though. Bizarre, exciting and kind of sad and scary all at once.

Speaking of "scary" and "bizarre," if you haven't already, watch Cloverfield. Hoooooooly crap! Loved it. It brought me back to my childhood love of the old "Godzilla" movies, but on a totally different level. Loved how it was told from the cilivians' perspectives instead of that omnicient POV that movies usually take (you know, you see everything and, at some point or another, learn everything). The fact that it had no music whatsoever just added to the realism of it. If you check out any fan sites, you find out all the little tricks, messages, and treats the creators hid in there, which makes it even more fun. I do wish that they'd explain a little more about the monster, somewhere, because I sure didn't get the impression that it was a confused, lost infant like the designers claim. Confused, eh, maybe ... lost ... in a way--I mean, I doubt it knew where/what Central Park or the Empire State Building were, but it sure as crap found them! Personally, I think it found a large, easy food source and then was shocked when said food source bit back (well, tried to) ... kind of like a chimp and a termite mound. But hey, the producers, designers, writers, and directors say otherwise, so .... who am I to talk? And, yes, mom I am talking about a fictional creature as if it really exists and New York has really been trampled -.^

It's funny reading old blog entries--Christmas two years ago, I claimed that FL had all of my closest friends who had "stuck with me through thick and thin." I can only say that about Matty, now. Weird how things and people change. Now, it's my friends at MC that I miss so much when I'm gone, people who showed me, believe it or not, what a healthy friendship is like where the work and involvement is 50/50 not 90/10. We may not agree on everything or have the same standards, but we accept and pursue one another as if that didn't matter. It's nice being accepted, really accepted, by people you're own age who are on, for the most part, the same page, and will have silly or deep conversations. I get to go hunting for that all over again once I move home. Change is good. It's not always easy, but it can usually be turned into a good thing one way or another ... at least in my experience ... I guess. We'll have to see.

Oh yes, and Dr. Potts, I looked up "analyzation"--you know, the word I used yesterday that you said wasn't real--Well ... it is. Booyah!

Hmmm ... random ... but in a google search for costumes, I think I just found a diamond in the rough. Maybe nobody's excited except my nerdy-self but hey, superheroes are always entertaining.

I wish I had something horribly profound to say, but I don't. I usually don't, honestly. I'm only twenty-one, and there's very little profound in the life of a young twenty-something. We think we are, but, more likely than not, we aren't. Oh the arrogance of youth. -.^

This is Pete, over and out.
You stay classy, San Diego

In-Between Seasons

Discovery consists of seeing what everybody has seen and thinking what nobody has thought.
--Albert Szent-Gyorgy

So, I'm trying this site out. Just maybe.
I've found so many lovely people on here from the dear ole homeland, that I figured, why not?
So here I be.

I'm in the library. Again. I'm always in the library, it seems, sitting at a computer screen looking, apparently, like an all-knowing goddess of knowledge for all of the computer-fixing, how-do-I-find-it, what-do-I-do questions I receive. It's amazing the power a desk position can give you. The honest to goodness truth is that I barely know any more than the rest of you guys. But you wouldn't know that because I'm sitting behind a desk. I've decided that perhaps, if I am ever a brilliant author whom young college and high school student study and sweat over, I will introduce (or more likely re-introduce) the desk as a symbol of position, power, and dominance .... kind of like an alter in Greek temples. *Sits tall and serene* "Yes, come my children, my little freshies, and I shall impart to you the wisdom and mysteries of the MC library. Reserves are to your left, and no, it won't print if you hit that button. Try this one instead. Ah yes, perfect." *heavenly chorus*

Yeah, I'm going overboard. Sorry. I just escaped a mid-term for my literary theory class, so my brain is totally fried and little nutso. The test wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but then, again, we didn't know what to expect except that all of the theorists, their theories, Eudora Welty's The Golden Apples, and a play by Tennesse Williams would be on there. Funny, but dear Pottsie forgot all about Welty and Williams. It was all fine by me though. I call Dr. Potts "Pottsie" with the utmost respect; it's just that last fall Dr. Randle in one of the most amazing classes I have ever experienced dubbed the Faulkner-obsessed prof that, and it's stuck .... for me at least. Now that the mid-term's over, though, I would gladly discuss any of the theories for you: Care for some New Criticism? Or perhaps its evil twin Deconstructionism? Oh do try some Gender Theory it's one of my favorites, and, while you're at it, sprinkle on some Psychoanalysis. It's a classic. So yeah. Lit theory--I'm your girl. I get the feeling that I have too much fun in the class. I hope I'm not irritating. It's just interesting stuff and most of the group is tight-lipped and I'm usually not when it comes to literature. I talk too much, darn it.

Outside it simply reeks of mulch ... which smells like nasty horse manure (yes, there is a good kind of horse manure smell, but this is NOT it). When I first caught a whiff of it, I thought I had stepped in a pile of dog mess. Nope. Just the whole environment smells like Phoebe Buffay's Smelly Cat took a collosal dump the size of my campus. It's been two days and it still reeks. I love earthy smells, but this is not one of them. I love the smell of damp grass and dirt after it rains. Wet mulch is in a category all its own. Lord willing the scent doesn't stick to anything else.

Ryno has taken it upon himself, as someone has every semester, to educate me. In a way it's remotely flattering because he bestows this knowledge believing that I am capable of absorbing it without my brain exploding. So far, it's been entertaining but not damaging or, honestly, educational. And, despite Ryno's efforts and arguements, I've come to the conclusion that all alcohol tastes like Robitesen Cough Syrup. If you can't taste it, then it bubbles and burns like eating pop rocks. Not my favorite. Last weekend, I joined Em and Ryno for movie and drink night at Carrie's. They drank Rum Runners, and I sipped on a Coke. That night, Ryno finally realized that when I say "I can taste alcohol in anything and I hate it" I'm not kidding. Today, we came up with an side joke: "Cheese." Jim and Ryno are going to have a buttload of fun using that to play with people's heads.

I still can't get used to everyone growing up and getting married. It's so strange to me. Not bad, necessarily, just strange. I keep talking about "the wedding," and people keep thinking it's mine. No, not yet, not for a while. "The Wedding" is Ryan and Julie's in twenty four days. Wow. In twenty-four days Julie will have a new last name and be a married woman. In twenty-four days, Ryan will be a married man--yes a man, as hard as that is to believe--with a career around the corner and a ring on his finger. How strange is that? I've known these kids for years, Ryan all his life, and now they're not kids anymore. Or they are and they think they aren't. Which is it??

I can't wait for the leaves to change colors. Life keeps on spinning, churning, growing, and it's a beautiful chaos.