yes.

Genius words from Kevin, as stolen from (I am actually ashamed to admit) facebook:

I love the words menagerie, treat, cavalcade, tricked.

I choose quality over quantity in nearly every aspect of my life.

I hate Nickelback.

If you can't stand the madness, get out of my life.

Keep your laws off my body, and your religion out of my government and chances are we will get along fine.

I hate people that think they are famous/fabulous. You better be able to back that up. Don't get invited to VIP events? Not fabulous. Picture not in a magazine? Not famous. STOP ACTING LIKE IT.

If you want to be my friend, you can't wear sunglasses at night/in bars/clubs/etc.

This world needs more people of our caliber, Kiegs. Love you.

Shitstorm

Tag this along my string of bad luck experiences:

My car was broken into. While they did not steal anything of major importance (you know, the car itself), the burglars did make off with the entirety of my cd collection, my XM radio set (damnit!!!), my cell phone charger cord, and one travel size bottle of CVS brand lemon hand sanitizer. Yes, I am aware of how random that sounds. Bastards.

Also, my neighbors upstairs are having a problem with their AC unit, which is leaking through the ceiling and dripping onto my stairway/banister. Drip. Drip. Drip. And apparently there is nothing maintenance can do with this heat, claiming it is just one of those things everyone is dealing with. Mmmmhmm. Sure. Drip. Drip. I have soaked through 2 towels already in the past 2 hours. Drip. Drip.

Chalk all of this up to the fact that my car, Dorian (after Dorian Gray), is without doubt the victim and receipient of all of my bad karma.

Yet another reason why I do not, in general, enjoy birthdays.

Oh, and this is how I really feel:

LaTrelle: "BECAUSE I THINK MY HEAD IS GONNA EXPLODE ANY MINUTE IF ANY MORE SHIT HITS THE FAN TODAY!"
Ty: "Did you just say 'shit'?"
LaTrelle: "I did. I did! And I said 'damn' today too. And 'hell.' And 'bitch.' And 'dookie.' And you know what? I feel like sayin' more. Damn! Hell! Bitch! Shit! Dookie! DAMN! HELL! BITCH! SHIT! TITTYYYYYYYYYY!"

Mitchell

Awesomely Bad

A most exciting and adventurous day here in Indianapolis. Dragged my sad and exhausted ass to work at 8 am with my full "fuck you, Monday morning!" look, no makeup, and funky hair. Turns out today (unbeknownst to moi) our head boss lady was showing up. Great. So I spend 2 hours madly cleaning our store to make it presentable... yes I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor a la Cinderella. Hot. No really.

I was scheduled until one o'clock and had been planning my day around the marvelous nap that would occur at approx 1:42 when I got home. Then I look at the day's schedule and I've somehow been scheduled until 5... even though nobody bothered to a) get my permission to change my hours or b) tell me. Cool, I'm broke anyway, no big deal.

Did I mention that I hand-scrubbed the goddamn floor?

Ok, so we've had nothing but torrential downpours ever since last night. Our mall (the oh-so-classy Castleton Square mall) is under construction and apparently the roof has just been resealed above our store. Which has been super, really. For a week or so we were living under a giant clear plastic tent to protect us from falling 'debris' during the process. Which is not only asthetically pleasing and a great sales perk but also super-reassuring.

No worries, everything is finally finished - so we were told - and some random member of the construction crew stopped by early in the day to make sure that we weren't having any leak issues with the storms. Which I thought was kindof nice, considering.

1:30 pm arrives. My boss and the head boss lady have both skedaddled for some lunch and I am hanging out near the entrance of the store doing my usual Miss America impression ("Good afternoon, ladies! How are you?!? Let me know if you need anything today blah blah blah vomit vomit vomit") when suddenly directly above a giant table of jeans the rain starts to stream in from above in a small but forceful little stream.

I go into my best Action Sally mode and start whisking all of those god-forsaken pairs of denim and khaki jackets onto a nearby counter. You really should have seen it, I was, like, awesome about it. We're talking Speedy Mc-Lightening-bolt. Except within approx. 38 seconds of the initial rain intrusion the goddamn ceiling LITERALLY opens up with a hole a foot wide and suddenly I'm standing in the middle of Niagra Fucking Falls.

So the whole lot of us starts running around shouting orders and dragging racks of clothes away from the blast site and making frantic phone calls to mall maintenance, our bosses (still missing and not answering their cell phones), our bosses' bosses, Jesus, Superman, Hogwarts, and the entire X-Men brigade. We kick out all of our customers, which admittedly was fucking brilliant and wickedly satisfying and shut down the store. Everything was flooded and we basically looked like the refugees you see canoing down Main Street in their drowned towns after hurricanes and tornadoes and whatever.

We finally re-opened 4 hours later, post clean-up and damage control. Oh AND our entire bathroom also broke AND (it really does get better!) exploded unthinkable sewer-spit all over the corner of our stockroom.

It was really a splendid day at the ATL.

Just wanted to brag in case any of you were thinking about bitching about going back to work today or whatever.

I win.

And it took me an entire hour to drive home when it usually takes 25 min or less. So I had that going for me, which was nice.

haha. I know. Don't even fucking say it... "Somebody's got a case of the Mondays!"

Nuggets of Brilliance

Must also share the two best pick-up lines of the summer, both encountered within 24 hours of each other:

1. delivered to me by a man of less than 4 feet: "Do you have any room on your lap?"

2. Chona: "Hey Ben, you want some of this... [dramatic pause]... steak sauce?"

In the spirit of Letterman, in no particular order

1. give me a few drinks and I think I'm the greatest dancer since Paula Abdul.
2. I am not Paula Abdul.
3. Lying awake having just realized that I was filmed during my latest boogey session at this weekend's wedding reception... dear god it is not going to be flattering, I promise you.
4. interesting observation noted during today's post-wedding brunch (aka Group Hangover Meal #1): "You know, everyone was dancing with their drinks in hand last night. I mean usually you put your drink on the table or something and go back and forth from the dance floor... but everybody was dancing with alcohol in their hands last night! I have never seen that in my life!"
5. things get super exciting when you are double-fisting bottles of beer because they have threatened last call and you're working your "Ice Ice Baby" magic with the mother-of-the-bride.
6. I am going straight to hell and cannot believe I have not yet been wrathfully smited. (smited? spelling?) I am not the person to sit next to during a wedding if you are looking for reverence, appropriateness, or romantic/emotional Hallmark moments.
7. Home Shopping Network. Jewelry special: rings.
8. Drove all the way home with the wedding gift still in the trunk of my car. damnit.
9. Going back to topics #1-3, I think I may have recreated The Carlton Dance last night... and by that I mean drunkenly attempted Fresh Prince tribute choreography that probably most closely resembled an epileptic fit. Sweet Lord please do not let that be what the videographer captured.
10. went home to celebrate mama's birthday, Mitchell Mexican Fiesta style, complete with pinata and mariachi singers. Desperately wanted to take pinata into the backyard and blow it up with several rounds of ammunition, execution style... because that's just the Mitchell way. why be satisfied with a blindfold and a baseball bat??

Death at a Funeral

Martha: "Simon?"

Simon: "Simon!"

Martha: "Simon?"

Simon: "Simon!"

Martha: "Si?"

Simon: ".... Mon!"

greatest film in years.

prepare yourself, the Brits are back.

Oh grasses of sleep, bitterly sweet grasses of oblivion...

Find myself awake, having tossed aside efforts at sleep since waking at 4:30. Made myself a cheese and pickle sandwich, an old favorite that harkens back to junior high packed lunches and reminds me of the Jenny Joseph poem that has unfortunately spawned an entire sub-culture of tacky red and purple hat societies.

I fear what will become of me should old age grasp me in its tethers. Frailty, loneliness, and helpless dependence upon others have never been appealing, not now and least of all in the potential twilight of my life. I see how the elderly are regarded, neglected, and scorned... what chance have we - the eager young generations stomping in our stalls - of changing anything by the time we hit the social security years?

The ripple effect, I remind myself... small acts of kindness and the ability to gradually cause hope and change.

I disappoint myself with my lack of service these past few months. There is so much to be done, so much I could do. Even if in tiny increments.

I have never liked birthdays. Mine quickly approaches and perhaps is the reason for this uprising wave of anxiety. It seems as though birthdays are inevitably a disappointment... the one day dedicated supposedly to the glorification of nothing less than one's own existence is bound to fall short of expectation. I find I prefer smaller celebrations, intimate circles to surround and hold each other dearly in a shared and cherished faith in one another, a love made sacred by virtue of mistakes and forgivenesses and the acknowledgment of truth and human ineptitude. We are all failures, ultimately, in some form or another, and therefore beautifully united.

Which reminds me, I have a letter to mail.

_________________________________

My soul is dark - Oh! quickly string
The harp I yet can brook to hear,
And let thy gentle fingers fling
Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear.
If in this heart a hope be dear,
That sound shall charm it forth again:
If in these eyes there lurk a tear,
'Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain.

But bid the strain be wild and deep,
Nor let thy notes of joy be first:
I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,
Or else this heavy heart will burst,
for it hath been by sorrow nursed,
And ached in sleepless silence long;
And now 'tis doomed to know the worst,
And break at once - or yield to song.

Lord Byron

worth 1000 words?

my weekend:

1. Wanker Sisters

[yes, she is sporting the 'Tom Selleck tribute' mustache and sequined anatomical bodysuit... hot.]

2. First ever White Castle experience. I hope never to return. Ever.

page 723

splendid accomplishments today:

1. read Harry Potter, one sitting, as intended. wasn't asleep anyway so figured, 'why the hell not?' and started it at one in the morning. finished by 7 and off to work by 8.
2. at work by 8.
3. cried while reading Harry Potter... a lot.
4. work
5. eye doctor appointment in Kokomo for fresh contacts and a new best friend... we talked for an hour and 15 minutes... it's hot outside... we do that.
6. approved for speeding ticket deferral program. massive relief.
7. continued reign in the Land of Awesome.

mmmmmm...

rare confession: today I love my life.

the kind of day you wish you could splice and put on some sort of glass mircroscope plate and look at in the future as if to say, yeah... that's how it was... and it was great.

home and content and feeling accomplished and happy and proud to be myself and giddy with the knowledge of unconditional love and beyond that the joy of being so damn happy with people like my brother and my friends... and yes, I spent over 4 hours in the kitchen and wore an apron and heels and created a beautiful evening event and dinner to be reckoned with... and it was good.

really.

a good day.

Jesus: Ten Million, Satan: Two

a great weekend:
1. the lake is practically bath-water. mmmm. delicious.

2. beer. 'lots of beer.'

3. golf scramble and the kick-ass spread to follow.

4. Bill Clinton impersonations from a man I can only remember calling 'Father O'Brien.'

5. Feeling like Granny Allison on the boat during 'Truth or Dare' and 'Never Have I Ever.'

6. Losing 'Never Have I Ever', like pronto.

7. Elise and I in matching dresses. Unplanned as usual but unsurprising nonetheless. And yes, we looked fabulous.

8. Wedding Crashers.

9. XM radio (woooo Janis Joplin - 'Sixties on Six!')

10. World's greatest purchase: beach hats for everyone.

11. Navigating the boat home in the rain, circa midnight, because nobody else knew where 'home' actually was.

12. Von Shritchell splendor.

to-MAY-to, to-MAH-to

At home after a dinner to-do with the parents and friends. Psych is playing in the background somewhere upstairs. My mother is analyzing her latest knitting project. My brother is at the lake with the girls and Drew is hanging out at a friend's house and probably participating in what I can only hope is a handful of worthy high school summer mischief.

So here I am and my mind is locked upon one specific subject: tomatoes.... several of which took starring roles in what was truly a lovely evening meal. For the record, tomatoes are probably my favorite local summer harvest. Vivid scarlet clusters explode from every novice gardener's plot for the entirety of our few delicious months of midwestern summer splendor. And damnit they make for real good eatin'... and fryin', especially the green ones.

Confession: I love anything I can salt, just can't help myself. Especially grapefruit. Mmmm. Why the hell you would put sugar on such a magnificent product, I simply cannot say. I'm sure my arteries are as stiff as steel piping. And I hate ketchup. It's nasty, goopy, and proven to contain rats and rodents and flies and spiders. Let's face it, the ketchup factory is where sub-par tomatoes go to die. Ewww and what could be more disgusting than people who use it as gravy-substitute to drown the likes of peas and cooked carrots? Disgusting. Grow up and just hold your nose like civilized people.

Regardless, have been pondering the old debate over the classificaion of tomatoes as fruit or vegatable. In terms of straight-up-now-tell-me* scientific fact, they are the ripened ovaries of a tomato plant and therefore a fruit. However, because they are used as a sauce base and usually spiced and salted, this is a difficult concept for the likes of elementary school children grasping the why's and wherefore's of life, the one-fish-two-fish-red-fish-blue-fish curriculum that arranges itself in a neat grid of time tables and shoeboxes and stone soup and sunflower seedlings growing in styrofoam cups. And paper mache - that was always the start of an awesome project.

At any rate, I have concluded that tomatoes are the drag queens of the fruit world. And that is precisely why I love them the most.

*Paula Abdul reference... because that was my first cd ever. And she's awesome. Especially in that terrific music video where she dances with a cartoon cat. (opposites attract?) That was totally slammin', like, seriously.

night thoughts

a sleepless night has avenged itself upon me yet again. so interesting this wave of elusive unconsciousness wreathed in dreams that we willingly succumb to so meekly each night... and how we can long for it when time, circumstance, fear, or emotion prevents us from falling into the beguiling snares of Queen Mab.

alas, such is the nature of things.
_________________________________________

Nothing is Lost

Deep in our sub-conscious, we are told
Lie all our memories, lie all the notes
Of all the music we have ever heard
And all the phrases those we loved have spoken,
Sorrows and losses time has since consoled,
Family jokes, out-moded anecdotes
Each sentimental souvenir and token
Everything seen, experienced, each word
Addressed to us in infancy, before
Before we could even know or understand
The implications of our wonderland.
There they all are, the legendary lies
The birthday treats, the sights, the sounds, the tears
Forgotten debris of forgotten years
Waiting to be recalled, waiting to rise
Before our world dissolves before our eyes
Waiting for some small intimate reminder,
A word, a tune, a known familiar scent
An echo from the past when, innocent
We looked upon the present with delight
And doubted not the future would be kinder
And never knew the loneliness of night.

- Noel Coward

vraiment

riding the wave of contentment that only the liberation of an evening with a dear friend can provide. so good just to... talk. (thanks, reef). reminds me of just how much work there is to do, for I have promises to keep...

and miles to go before I sleep...
and miles to go before I sleep...

___________________________________

Seeker of Truth

seeker of truth

follow no path
all paths lead where

truth is here

e e cummings

Apocalypse Now

It's the end of an era.

RIP Wall Street Journal.