If you're reading this, I'm thinking about you.
You're the ultimate.

Offshore drilling is not the answer, folks.
I promise you.

Watching Tyra.
Shaaaaaaaame. I know.
But it's "Sex Around the World."
We're SEXPLORING the globe.
I'm actually excited hahaha.

How long has it been since I used livejournal?

So long. Too long.

I feel like I've lost my ability to obsess. Which to me denotes a loss of innocence. Obsess over something, not someone.
3-6 Mafia are going to be on Craig Ferguson tonight. I find that humorous. That a man can spout the most entertaining philosophy in his book and be on the "Late Late Show" every evening interviewing "collar poppers." Oh, how I love him.
Though, he did have Liam Finn a couple months back.
If I'm ever rich and famous and pluuging films on the late night cable circuit, I will request Craig. And then I will go on his show and tell him how much I love him. And that whenever I was in Miami for my first semester of college, to get me through homesickness at night, I would wait for his show. And then in college I read and fell in love with his book and it opened up my mind to all the things I felt but didn't acknowledge and thoughts I didn't know I had. And that I thought "Saving Grace" was a cute movie. Although "Born Romantic" was rubbish.

How did my return to LJ end up as a rant touting the healing benefits of Craig Ferguson?

I miss my Grandma.
I miss Mike.
That death wasn't a reality.

I just nodded off in front of the computer and apparently when I did so "Kiss" (Prince) came on and I had a mini-dream where I was dancing around a pool in a terrycloth-jumpsuit-bathing-suit-cover-up-thing. Lots of 'bump-up' hip-move-steps involved. Hyphen love right there.
I am so damn hot...
...obviously.

I.
I...
Aaaayyyy...


There's nothing in this world that makes me happier than standing in a patch of sunlight and seeing the sky pitch black a few miles away. It's so tropical. It's so Florida. It's so home. I love our daily rain. What used to be a total buzz-kill is now a sacred ritual.

I'm listening to the new Crowded House single. I really hate nostalgia. I mean, it's a good song. But right after it, in my playlist, is "Into Temptation" and all I picture is 5 years ago, talking everyday with Ryan and a million summer afternoons spent at Mugs's house. With daily thunderstorms. I hate being like that with my music. It's one of the largest complaints that I have; not being able to listen to music that I obsessed over a year ago because all I do is remember things and wish I was there again. I'm trying to focus more on the here and now and a little bit of the future.

I wish some people would understand...understand that no one can change overnight. Over three years it probably should be possible. But overnight? Maybe I'll never change. But I have to. I'm on quite the little path of self destruction. That was a bit dramatic. I do nothing. At all. I wake up at noon and shower and go to work. That pretty much disgusts me.
Today I worked out. That's a step in the right direction.

"Instinct" I remember Walter totally jamming to this song in Mr. Payne's science class in 9th grade. I was so thrilled to find someone my age that liked anything by Crowded House. Obviously I'm still listening to Crowded House.

I read some MSN report the other day that people who spend time around animals have significantly lower stress levels than people who...don't. I can definitely see that being true. I'm so obsessive. If dog owners were parents I'd be the mother that didn't let her kid eat candy basically. I love my little Luquita mas linda...aka Luca. I should post pictures of her. Like this one.

bvhaflkdlkfaslkfansdfwifnanfaksf

I made a really big mess with my really big Chipotle burrito. I'm so tired that I'm half-heartedly considering letting the dogs out to lick the floor. That is beyong pathetic.
I painted my fingernails 'eggplant' and when I saw Juan's mom at the scholarship ceremony for Pablo, she goes "Eh, Te-Rre-sa, why deed joo do dat to your nailsss?"

My toes are the same color but with gold dots.

Why people do that, though? Would you ever do that to someone? "Eh, why did you wear THAT shirt?"

I like my eggplant nails. Eggplant. Used often in Italian cooking. I'm staying trueish to my roots. BAM!

Mangos with sal Klass.

"Vivir sin Aire"

Costa Rica

Sharing. Sharing. In large groups. Buzzing from strong beer and singing and dancing. And sharing.

"These are a few of my favorite things..."

I went to the library last week because it'd been novelas since I'd last read a book. They had big posters of Vonnegut everywhere which made me smile because I like Vonnegut. Then today I found out that he died a few weeks ago. How did I miss that? For more than two weeks? So now I'm a bit sad. I remember reading "Triage" in Harp's class and thinking I was the only one that enjoyed it. Not that I analyzed it correctly or anything. In fact, I sucked at that. Also, reading "Breakfast of Champions inside my math book during class in 9th grade. Just like they do with comic books in all of the 80's movies.

Michael Chiarello was talking about Pecorino cheese and how he prefers it over Parmeggiano because it's goat milk, and his family is from Calabria (Southern Italy) where goat milk cheeses are typically used more than cow milk cheeses. Then on yesterday's "Easy Entertaining" he was talking about his method for making stuffed eggplants. "I absolutely love the eggplant and this recipe has been in my family for decades. The eggplant is a highly esteemed vegetable in Sicily, where my family is from."

It's quite possible that his mother is Calabrian and his father della Sicilia. I just wish he would clarify. Also, not that it's any of my business. Like my family doesn't have their own heritage-themed identity crisis.

It is 1:38. I should be getting ready to go to St. Pete. Instead, I'm sitting at my computer in a towel talking about Michael Chiarello.

Also...the changed the narrator of the "Tuesday Morning" commercials from the black lady with the deep, wise, amused, extremely distinct voice. To some little old country lady. Definitely took away the mystery.

I want an herb garden. Fresh basil motivates me. To do...that.

Oh how I despair for the world.
I wish I could facilitate change. The unfortunate part is that no one seems to care. If someone wants to talk political with me, they get me on a roll and when they see that I'm good and fired up, their apathy takes over and they laugh and tell me it's so funny/endearing/amusing.
"What's funny about it? This is your world to create and you seemingly don't care?"
"Well, it's just that there are people like you who do care and politics just don't interest me."

hfdaskjfsdlkjfds POLITICS are everything. Global warming. Poverty. Africa. AIDs. Health care. War. Clean water. Genocide.

How can you fucking not be interested??? How do you fucking turn a blind eye to this because the politics "bore" you? This rand does not stem from a specific incident. This is a million and a half of them that equal our deteriorating world condition.

Ignorance IS bliss. Apathy is a mass murderer.

I had been starting to really hate rap music until I moved to Miami. And then I started to appreciate it. Because...I mean people down there are really...people in rap songs exist in Miami. I'm not being racist, I don't mean black people. I just mean...people who live lives like the ones in the songs. I remember driving to "Santa's Enchanted Forest" in the 79 degree weather listening to "Make It Rain." I don't know how to articulate what I mean. I don't identify with rap. I just feel like it makes sense. I can't WAIT to go back to Miami this summer. The grass is always greener, right? hdasjkhfadsklhfsdjhdfkhas I miss it so much. I'm so stupid. FIU is the prettiest school ever.dlkfhdsafjdslkjfdskljfdskjfdslkjfkldsajf.

I got my hair cut so that I would look like a Rio De Janeiro Beach Goddess. It's actually looking slightly more suburban than that but whatever. I'm still hot.

I wish I had a lot of money. And I would waste it all on traveling. Flights are so expensive.
Amsterdam: $1,200
Morocco: $1,000
Argentina: $800
Costa Rica: $500

I remember when I flew to Costa Rica two years ago my round trip ticket was only $240. That's like 3 days pay as a server.

Anyway...I'm decorating my bedroom in a Moroccan theme. I was thinking Mediterranean but I've got years to do that. I should be a little more edgy. How sad am I? Moroccan decorating is edgy for me. Sad. Sad.

I came to a sad realization. (Cancel or Allow?)
I have no common sense.
Not like "Haha, Theresa is an airhead sometimes."
But like cripplingly oblivious.
I got Windows Vista on my computer. It's nothing amazing. It wiped out pretty much everything on my computer.
Hmm.
A week ago my mom gave me $75 in iTunes gift cards. I have $2 remaining.
Oh, wait though. Wait, wait, wait. Doesn't iTunes tell you to back up your purchased music? Ha, I never do that. That's silly. Perhaps that's why I'm lamenting the $73 worth of songs that are now drifiting lazily through m y memory and lingering on my iPod which I am refusing to recharge until I find my wall-adapter (yeah, it's old school from when they gave you the adapter with the iPod) or I somehow magically recover my music. All 1,500 songs. I know that's not a lot to some people. But that was my entire collection. Plus, a wasted $75 gift card.
I could cry. I'd really like to cry right now.
Fuuuuck you Bill Gates. Steve Jobs is hotter anyway.

I'm definitely listening to David Bowie.
How have I managed to reach this point in my life without becoming a fan?
Can I call myself a fan when I've listened to "Ziggy Stardust...Mars" nonstop?

I spent the night in Orlando on Saturday with Nezz and we went to Brit's house and that was lovely. Favorite people. And Sunday I went to Prich's apartment with Juan and watched the Superbowl. I fucking hate football. I mean if I'm at a game it's more than tolerable. Fun, even. But fucking hell...on TV? I never realized it until Sunday night though. I remember watching the Superbowl in 9th grade and being really happy that the Bucs won. I guess that's just that weird sense of comradeship that I feel if I'm in anyway connected to something/someone. "The Tampa Bay Bucs??!! I love Tampa because that's where Busch Gardens is!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOO! Go Bucs!"

I even stayed up late, by myself to watch that game. And then I wrote about it the next day in Gifted, for my calendar. Stupid Mr. Harper. That's when he was cool. Or when I actually did my work. Oh yeah...there are two sides to every story.

I hate college.

I just wrote to Charlie Dean, Mel Martinez, and Bill Nelson asking where I need to start to push an elimiation of the electoral college. I hope they write back. They better write back. If you have an opinion on this, be it agree or disagree...write your senator. Get involved! :)

Am I super-late with my new obsession?
BEIRUT! BEIRUT! BEIRUT!

Not the place......

Rufus Wainwright meets Neutral Milk Hotel meets Ukranian Gypsies.
No joke.

This is what happens when you drop out of school and travel across Eastern Europe. And Mom says it's not a good idea. Pfft. An education is worthy price for music that shakes the heart.
It's seriously almost 6 o'clock in the morning.

Goodbyes suck.

sonofabitch

Last night I had the best dream ever. No, seriously, honestly the best dream of my life, besides maybe the one at the fair, where I rescued Mugs from the ride with a lasso type contraption and there was the naked guy running around. But this dream was soooooooooooo wonderful I never wanted to wake up. And when I did wake up, I was so upset.

I was, apparently some type of secret agent. And so was this guy I was in love with and he was in love with me except we had never done anything about it. Well, we were on a mission and something came up and he saved my life and we both thought that he was about to die, like he sacrificed his well being for my own. By the way, he wasn't faceless, he very much had a face, and a very handsome one at that but it was like a mix of people. Like it was part Juan, and a few celebrities mixed in but you just couldn't tell who. I just knew. And anyway well he didn't die! He lived and he escaped from our mission in the middle of a crowd of people and police and helicopters flying over head, he was like dangling from the helicopter and he came down, (dressed all in black, v. sexy) and came straight to me and we hugged and kissed and it was all soooo passionate and I was so happy!

And then we went on to do more missions (not neccessarily together) and I kept getting put in really dangerous situations and this one time I hadn't realized that anything had happened to me, but I guess I was close to dying and I ran into headquarters because that's what they were telling me to do and they used a defibulator on me, but not just for a second, but like they held it on me and it shocked me a lot, and then the chief gave me an injection in the back. And then I woke up.

I know it sounds like such a weird ending, but I was so pissed. I wanted to go back to sleep and do more missions and marry my spy boyfriend who I'm sure would have ended up being super manly and super sensitive to all my needs and we would have had beautiful babies and blah blah blah. Oh and a house built with love.

Obviously my subconcioused tapped into the major plot-line of the new James Bond film but STILL.

Maybe I should be a secret agent. Maybe that's my calling.

Boys suck!

Not mine, not right now anyway.
But other boys suck.

Bastards.