My Mumbling Thoughts

Voodoo has tagged me and I must list five strange things about myself in no particular order. I'm sure I can easily come up with more than five, but you've got to limit yourself right?

Now then...

1. I'm a complete OCD clean freak but my car is the only place where I let myself go. It's always full of trash and occasionally I'll have to kill the random bug of the week. I also make sure that people have been immunized in the past 90 days before they brave being a passenger.

2. When I was younger I couldn't sleep with any mirrors in my bedroom. I was afraid of the Bloody Mary stories and believed she would come into my room through the mirrors and kill me while I slept.

3. I eat tomatoe and ketchup sandwiches, and they have to be cut down the middle. Not diagonally, not from side to side, or with the crust cut off. Just top to bottom otherwise I won't eat it.

4. I like to think that I'm psychic. I'm not.

5. I only eat the red and orange gummi bears.

I'm tagging anyone who would like to tell us five random, strange things about themselves. Go ahead. Share with the rest of us.

Posted by Sam at 08:59 AM | Permalink

Today is the first day of work that I've spent sitting at my desk. The rest of the time I have been in the lab hanging out with my extended family. I would probably be in there today also but they had to attend some kind of meeting/conference thing, therefore I was forced to sit here.

Around 10:30am though I thought I just might shoot myself. I was so bored, the internet went down, and I was becoming ancy.

I've been in a bit of a funk also for the past week or so and am refusing to properly deal with it. I know where the problem is stemming from but I'm not sure how to get down the roots. Instead I grab an ink pen, push my chair out and crawl under my desk.

Yes. Crawl under my desk.

You see, the ink pen is my excuse. If somebody were to walk in and find me down on the floor, I could just say that I dropped my pen and had to bend down to get it. Fabulous, right? Okay, so maybe it's a little weird but it's nice at the same time.

At my old job when I had to enter data all fucking day I would regularly do this. I didn't like my job and was painfully aware that I needed a serious change for myself. On the floor, under the desk, is where I could get away and did most of my best thinking. On the plus side, I also had a door and was able to shut that as well.

I propped myself up against the desk walls and shut my eyes. I could hear the construction workers down the hall who have been making noise for the past three weeks. It's nothing but men shouting orders at each other, hammering, drilling, reminding the poor sod who has to grab lunch not to forget cheese on Ted's burger, carrying ladders, and running wires all over the place. I can hear the hum of my computer too and soon become comfortable where most people would never be found.

The construction noises fade out and before I know it the only thing that I can hear are my own thoughts that have been stabbing me every chance they can get.

What are you going to do?

You're an awful person. You knew it would never work. He doesn't want you to and you can't stop.

What happens now?

I can't keep on making false promises.

It's best if you quit the cycle and separate for a while. None of this is fair on either one of us.

I don't want to separate. We're too good together.

I should call. Swallow your goddamn fear and call.

What's he thinking though?

Call and find out.

Perhaps another e-mail would be best?

Coward.

The thoughts continue and I open my eyes. I'm no closer to an answer than I was before. I suppose there really isn't an answer. I unfold my legs and get back in my chair. Thirty minutes have passed by without anybody stopping by. The in-between week of Christmas and New Years is always a quiet one. Well, aside from the construction workers.

The internet is back up and I check my e-mail for the hundreth time. Nothing new. No response. Not even any junk mail. I stand up and walk over towards the window. It's a wet and gloomy day but feels fitting at the same time. We haven't really had much crap weather recently and I find some comfort in the grey skies.

I go back to my desk, grab Mini, put on my jacket and head downstairs. I can't sit anymore. I go out to the side of the building, pull out a fag and start smoking.

If I didn't have a strict rule about crying in public I would have broke down right there in the rain.

Posted by Sam at 08:57 AM | Permalink

I remember exactly where I was this time last year. I was lying on my couch in the apartment we used to live in waiting impatiently for December 26th to arrive. I was either daydreaming to myself about everything that I wanted to do, mentally piecing my outfits together that I wanted to wear, or most of the time I was on the phone with Mendy and we would imagine every single possible situation that might happen to us while we were there.

Christmas was no longer The Major Event that was taking place at the end of the year. Oh no. Now we were consumed with New Years and London. New Years in London.

It quickly became an obsession for both of us. That's all we would talk about, every time we went shopping it was for things we would need while we were in London, and we created an itinerary for all of the tourist-y things we wanted to do. Every single day that we would be there we had a plan for it and it would be perfect. Beautiful. Amazing. Nothing and nobody would get in our way. That's all that was on our brain around the clock. We ate, slept, and breathed nothing but London.

It all felt a little anitclimactic. I mean, here the both of us were easily getting our hopes up and blinded by our own thoughts and predictions. We didn't really sit down and truly consider the fact that there might be a tiny possibility that things may not work out exactly as we had planned. Anything less than our perfect scenarios was unacceptable and immediately tossed aside.

Of course everything else is history. Once we finally arrived and stepped off of the plane into Heathrow Airport we began the life altering experience that would stick with us for the rest of eternity. Everything did magically happen exactly as we had planned it for two months. It was one of those rare moments when you can't remember how everything happened or how you made it to this place where everything is perfect, but you're filled with happiness up to your eyeballs and you really don't care about how it happened or how you got there so long as it never ends.

Never ends.

This year I'm stranded in America with no plans of leaving anytime soon. Or anytime soon enough. I didn't know that something small like experiencing cold weather every day would be such a strong reminder for me. All I can keep on imagining everytime I step outside is all of us walking around in the cold weather. Me with my red pea coat, Mendy with her scarves, and Ash showing us the way to so many different places. It only takes half a second and before I know it, my mind is right back in the middle of London. I don't even have to concentrate hard so that my mind can focus on the memories. They're all easily pulled up from my mind in a split second. The people, the cars, the noises, and smells. I can see my breath clearly and listen to all of the different accents that swarm around me. I remember how the sunlight hit all of the buildings and standing out on Ash's balcony smoking my fags and taking in all of my surroundings. All of the small intricate details that some people may not pick up on are all cemented in my memories. How does one forget so easily something that was so huge?

I had to force myself to quit re-living the days when we were there after we got back. It was far past the point of being unhealthy and I wasn't happy in the present. For six months I drowned myself in memories, tears, and frustration. Every single lyric in every sad song that played I could relate to. All I could keep on telling myself was that I wasn't happy unless I was in London, and that was crazy. The depression ate me alive, corrupted my mind, and I had turned into some strange person that I didn't recognize. How could I have let myself get to this point? The point where I wasn't simply happy with what I already had? I wasn't some sad, self-absorbed, fumbling, crazy, manic-depressed, whining, annoying chump.

Eventually I managed to get myself on a track that didn't leave me running in circles like a small mouse. Things seemed to be working out for a change and I was convinced that this would be a piece of cake, a walk in the park, smooth sailing. I had a plan and as long as I stuck to that plan, I would be able to have it all. Everything was positive, I was optimistic, and things seemed to be on the bright side.

So far, so good.

That is until something small and random that comes from nowhere hits me straight in the face that immediately brings all of those fresh memories up to the surface.

Things like walking in the cold weather with my red pea coat for instance.

It's not as easy to shake the images that fill my brain. They reel in my mind all day like a movie and I'm finding it difficult to concentrate on simple tasks that I do all the time. It is distracting. With New Years looming just around the corner a lot of people are asking me if I'll be going back to London to visit for a little bit. I have to do the polite, "nope, not this year. We'll be sitting it out." They normally don't understand that answer and have this very quizical look on their face. To everyone I am known as the "London Girl," and for me to not be visiting during the holidays doesn't quite fit.

"Not this year? Oh, how come? I thought your boyfriend lives over there? Are you two not together anymore? Tell me you're still going for college."

And then I must explain that yes, we're still together, I simply can't afford it and I'm saving my cash for college. The so called "responsible" thing.

From there nothing good happens. I continue to explain to them my current situation with as little details as possible and move on with my day knowing even more that we'll really be sitting it out.

Really be sitting it out. I won't be there.

I had no idea this would be something that made my insides crumble. I don't want to be sad and depressed about the fact that I'm not going over to visit for the New Year. It sucks, sure, but it shouldn't be effecting me this much. I should be able to do simple things like eat. I find it hard to eat, yes. Getting out of bed every morning has become more than just a struggle. It's an every day obsticle for me. I find myself falling further and further behind. I don't care about work and disappear every chance that I can get and take hour long breaks. I come in late, leave early, and have a general crappy attitude for the most part. My memory has been shot to hell (*at least with everything that deals with the present day) and I'm just a useless human being.

Oh, I know that I probably sound like a big huge baby. "Waa, waa, waa! Poor Sammi can't go to England. Boo-fucking-hoo." I'm just in a whiney mood I guess. Whiney and annoying. Although I can honestly say that I was in no way prepared or expecting this to happen. How was I supposed to know that I'd be so goddamned depressed about this? I thought I had dealt with it weeks ago when I sat down with my bank account and noticed quite easily that it just wasn't going to happen. Not unless I won the lottery or discovered that I had a very rich uncle that passed away and left me his fortune. It was an unpleasant surprise for sure.

It does become exhausting after some point. Putting every ounce of energy that you can muster up into this one dream that isn't coming to you fast enough. You try to find the loop holes, jump through millions of hoops, and deal with the hurdles and yet there still isn't anything that you can grasp on to. Your patience begins to lower while your frustration bar rises, and ever so slightly, even though you'd never admit to yourself let alone another person, you lose a little hope that it may ever happen.

I just feel so fake. Around everybody I try so hard to stay in the holiday spirit and act like how I normally would if the circumstances were different. If I was different. I just want to shrink away for a little while though. Take a trip any place where the people don't know my name, I have no personal attachment, and I can forget just for a short while that I am London Girl. Some place with sunshine, ocean waves, and cold drinks. The cliché definition of paradise.

Or, would it be so bad if I took the rest of the year off and hibernated in my room? That right there is enough of paradise for me.

Posted by Sam at 09:00 AM | Permalink

On Friday after I drove Mel and myself back home from a long week, I did my nightly ritual of changing into my jammies and flopped on the couch. Traffic was extra nasty for a Friday and I was looking forward to lying around and not doing anything all night.

I wasn't even still for two seconds before Mel entered the room with the phone in her hand.

Mel: "Here. Talk to Momma. She wants you to go to the spa and take her massage for her."

Me: "What? No! That's for her."

Mel: "Dude, she's running late and doesn't want the money to go to waste."

Last year for Christmas, Mel and I got Momma this nice package deal at the nearby Tranquility Spa. It's on a small little corner that is very nice, out of the way, and away from society a bit. We thought Momma would love it since she's constantly on the go and never takes time out for herself. Almost a year later she finally decides that she wants to go.

The coupon included an hour and a half full body massage, pedicure, manicure, and facial. Since they were really booked, they decided to split her sessions up. Instead of having a full day at the spa, she would make two separate appointments; one for her massage and the other day for her mani, pedi, and facial. Momma actually preferred this since she hates sitting around all day and would be able to treat herself on two different occasions instead of having it all in one go.

She made her appointment for Friday at 5:00pm. She planned on leaving at 4:15. I told her this was a crap idea.

Me: "Momma, Friday traffic blows. You need to leave at 3:30. I'm telling you this from pure experience. You'll never make it in forty-five minutes."

Momma: "I got directions. I'll just shoot down 66."

Me: "66? No. No, no, no, no. 66 is Satan's Road, didn't I tell you? It takes at least an hour on a regular work day, let alone a Friday. And with all of the late time Christmas shoppers. Leave at 3:30. You'll be better off, I promise."

I tell her this and yet she is still convinced that she can make it in forty-five minutes. The stubborn mule.

Now I'm laying on the couch, in my jammies, already washed my face and she's arguing with me while she sits in traffic.

Momma: "Samantha, I've already called them and told them I'm going to be late, but I'm going to be really late. I won't make it in time. I'd much prefer it if you went and the money didn't go to waste."

Me: "Why don't you just re-schedule?"

Momma: "Because you have to re-schedule twenty-four hours in advance. Will you please just go in my place?"

Me: "What did I tell you, huh? Didn't I warn you about the traffic, Momma?"

Momma: "Now's not the time to argue with me Samantha Leigh. Go and get the damn massage."

All of this arguing was starting to make me tense, but I was so frustrated that she stayed at work instead of telling people that she was leaving early. Ordinarily I'm not one to turn down a massage, but it was her birthday present dammit and I wanted her to enjoy it for fuck's sake.

Me: "Fine. I'm going."

I quickly got dressed again, slipped on some ratty shoes and drove down to the Tranquility Spa. I walked inside. Celine Dion was singing Christmas songs in the background and all of their Christmas decorations were a blinding silver/white/sparkling color. I felt out of place, looked like shit and stepped up to the front counter.

Desk Lady: "Hi, ma'am. Welcome to the Tranquility Spa. May I help you?"

Me: "Um, well, see the thing is, my mom was supposed to be here, but she's stuck in traffic and this is really her birthday present but she couldn't re-schedule twenty-four hours in advance, but she got caught up with work, so she asked me to sit in her place, if any of that makes sense."

DL: "What is your mother's name?"

Me: "Lois."

DL: "Okay, not a problem. Lori is going to be taking care of you. Your mother does know that when she gets here we won't be able to do anything for her, right?"

Me: "Oh yeah, no worries. She just doesn't want it to go to waste."

DL: "Of course. Here, I'll take your jacket and scarf for you."

After she hung up my jacket, she showed me into a back room that was a bit darker and had jungle birds over the speakers.

I had entered the forest or something.

DL: "Would you like something to drink?"

Me: "Oh, no thanks."

DL: "If you could just sit here for a moment and fill out a quick survey. I'll tell Lori that you're here and then we can get started."

I sat in a wicker chair and tried to sit back without feeling like I would fall backwards. She handed me the clipboard and I began filling everything out.

The questions were standard I guess. They just wanted to know if I had any kind of back pains, or if there was a particular area that I would like them to focus on. Then they wanted to know if I was epileptic, had heart problems, got cold quickly, or allergic to iodine. I was beginning to get a little scared. What exactly were they going to do to me?

It was a quick survey though and before I knew it, my masseuse, Lori, came and introduced herself.

Lori: "So is this your first massage?"

Me: "Well, my first proper one at a spa, yeah."

Lori: "Is there anything that you're having troubles with? Your back, shoulders, or neck area?"

Me: "Actually, it just so happens I've got a bit of a pinch in my neck. Traffic was a bit more hellish for me today for some reason."

Lori: "Do you sit at a computer all day?"

Me: "Sadly, yes."

Lori: "Alrighty. Well go ahead and strip down and hop under the covers face down. If you want you can leave your underwear on, but some people prefer to take everything off. I'll give you a few minutes"

Whoa. That was a first. I had only known this lady for three minutes and already I was taking off my clothes. Of course I know that people have to take their clothes off in order to get a full body massage, it was just really strange having somebody I had just met saying the words and have it be completely normal.

It was a race for me to take off my clothes. On one hand I just wanted to get under the covers because it was cold and I'm really paranoid about being video taped everywhere I go that requires me to change, and also because I'd hate for Lori to walk in and only be halfway finished getting undressed. When I took off my socks however, I realized it had been a couple of days since I last shaved my legs and I felt kind of bad about it. Whenever I get a pedicure, I always make sure my legs are shaved. This, however, I was caught completely off gaurd and unprepared.

After I stripped down to my underwear (I wasn't as comfortable as some of her other clients), I slid under the blankets where it was already nice and toasty. You have to love those electric blankets. I laid on my belly and placed my face into that little head holder. Then it was quiet.

I wondered how weird I must look, laying on this bed, no clothes, with my face down to the floor in the face holder. Then I felt like a dork.

After a couple of minutes, Lori entered the room and told me to relax in one of those relaxing-masseuse-tones. She dimmed the lights even more which didn't help me relax at all. All I kept on thinking was, "what the hell did I get myself into?"

She started down on the lower part of my legs and lathered them with lotion. There wasn't any talking after she had began. Just myself, in the dark, listening to the ocean and seagulls over the speakers. And all of the thoughts that were blazing through my head at warp speed.

Some of the random thoughts during my massage session:

"I wonder if anybody has farted while she was giving them a massage?"

"What would happen if there was a fire right now?"

"Do people fall asleep? And more importantly, did they drool after they fell asleep?"

"Goddammit I'm so pissed at Momma. She's the one who should be laying here."

"This isn't awkward. This isn't awkward. Just relax. Jesus, would you fucking relax already? You're at a goddamn spa."

"This is going to make great blogging material."

"Haven't I already heard these seagulls? Is my CD on repeat?"

All of these random thoughts kept on running through my mind while she was giving me a massage. That is until she moved up onto my neck and shoulders. I don't know what happened, but the moment she started working in that area, my mind zoned out and I enjoyed the spectacular work that her hands were doing. I was in heaven and really enjoying myself.

After she was finished with my backside, she asked me to flip over on my back and move my head down so that it was resting on the table.

What the hell was the going to do to me while I was on my back? (Dirrty thoughts to yourself, please.)

I hesitated for a moment and then scooched down the table on my stomach before I turned over.

It was then that she gave my head a full on massage that was different but good at the same time. She also did the front part of my legs, my arms, and feet. All in all, very lovely.

Once everything was finished, she told me that I could take my time getting ready and left the room. I didn't want to move. The bed was warm, my muscles were pudding, and I just wanted to fall asleep and have happy dreams about rainbows and unicorns.

I got back into my clothes, tried to fix my hair, and grabbed some mints that were sitting on a small table.

When I opened the door, Lori was standing there with a small cup of water.

Lori: "Here you go. You have to drink plenty of water two days after to flush all of the minerals out of your system."

Minerals? I didn't want to know.

Me: "Thanks."

I saw Momma sitting in the wicker chair that I had sat in a little while ago and tapped her on the shoulder.

Me: "Glad you could finally make it."

Momma: "Hey, dear. I'm sorry that I was late. Really. I was cussing myself in the car. You wouldn't believe how much I was looking forward to that massage."

Me: "Good. Perhaps next time you'll listen to me instead of trying to fight traffic?"

Momma: "Oh hush. Yes, I'll leave earlier."

I took a card from Lori with her information on it and then Momma and I left for home. I was feeling really good but also like I needed a shower. I had some kind of spa lotion on me from head to toe and it left me feeling greasy. I didn't shower when I got home though. I simply fell asleep feeling completely relaxed with the seagulls and ocean waves in my ears.

Posted by Sam at 09:01 AM | Permalink

Why is it whenever I'm feeling like crap Mel always says something completely random with a straight face that makes me want to laugh for ten minutes? We were sitting in the car when she told me out of the blue...

"Ian told me today that he sneezed, coughed, and farted at the same time. It gave him a headache."

I recieved my CD from Tim today which was very exciting. This music revolution rules. The song "Fuck her gently" from Tenacious D is hilarious and kept me laughing for forever it seems. And the fact that he wrote his note to me and the song tracks on sticky notes was creative and precious. Thank you, sir.

Just for everyone's information, this is my 100th post. I think everyone should buy a round of drinks for me. Not a round of drinks on me. For Me.

Raise your glass. Here's to 100 and many more.

Posted by Sam at 09:02 AM | Permalink

So two of my daily reads are starting something fantastic. It is a musical revolution that I am apart of and want to share with the four people who read my random gibberish.

Here's how it works:

Bloggers send their address (that would be your home address) to Melissa and PK who will then send it to another fellow blogger who will make you a mixed CD full of their favorite songs and what have you. If they want they can get really creative and even send you a note on cute stationary. (PK is known for this and I think it's adorable.)

They then take the finished mixed CD (and note if they decided to write one), put it in an envelope and send it to you. You should receive it within 5 business days and then you rock out to some new music that you may or may not already be jamming to.

Fabulous, no?

Melissa has already sent me my first name. I've already been compiling songs that I think he might like, making sure there's a variety, a little something from each decade perhaps, and a good shuffle of bands from around the globe. I want it to flow nicely and I'm discovering that this is turning out to be a little challenging for me. There are so many great bands that I want to share, and each of these great bands have so many great songs and I'm afraid that one CD may not be enough to hold everything that I might want to send.

That's okay though. There are plenty of other times I can share each single.

I have been thinking though, and their idea is so great that I want to sort of/kinda do the same thing only not really.

Here's the thing, about two months ago, I received a very BIG box of blank CDs. When I say BIG box, I mean that I could fit inside nicely and have room to move around comfortably. From the top to the bottom there is nothing but blank CDs. They have been sitting in my office for over TWO MONTHS. I've asked around to see if anybody knows who they belong to, made a flyer and put it up so that the owner could come and claim all of these CDs, and yet still nobody has come to pick them up.

So my policy downstairs is if you don't come and claim your shit within a month or two, I start putting up different ads for people to come and take it if they want it. It's as simple as that. Obviously they weren't so important that they needed them right away and it's not like I haven't tried to find out who they belong to. I'm not a storage closet though and I can't keep big boxes like that hanging around. It's a serious eye sore.

I've already given out a couple of them, but it hasn't even created a small dent in the pile I've got going on. But then I thought of what PK and Melissa are doing and wondered if anybody out there in the blogosphere would like me to send them a mixed CD? You don't have to send one back to me (unless you absolutely want to. I'm not one to turn a mixed CD down), but I figured I could kill two birds with one stone and others would get what I consider to be fabulous music.

Everybody at work is getting a mixed CD from me (whether they want it or not) and I did want to send some tunes to some of my favorite daily reads, but I wasn't sure if they would think it was weird or not. I can understand how some people may not want to give out their home address to somebody who could live in a cave for all they know, but it never hurts to ask. I used to be weird about giving out my address too, but I figured that if somebody I gave my address to took time out of their life to randomly turn up on my door step, I'd probably drive them to the nearest ABC store so they could but us some liquor and then we'd go talk about how their flight was.

Ash has already recieved plenty of CDs from me and it never feels like enough. Sadly I didn't even think about creating a mixed CD for him (even though he has done so for me a couple of times and we listen to the exact same bands anyway so it wouldn't be anything new to him) and I already shipped out his very big box of Christmas joy yesterday. I'm sure he wouldn't mind another one though.

Right. So that is it. Anybody who wants me to make them a mixed CD so they can expand their musical horizon and be apart of this kick ass music revolution, send me an e-mail with your address and I'll be more than happy to do so. And of course if you want to get into the regular CD sending hop on over to PK and Melissa's website. They're the ones who I nicked the idea from.

Posted by Sam at 09:04 AM | Permalink

Today the power went out.

So much fun!

I love it whenever the power goes out and I'm at work. It's so random and if it's out for long enough then usually they send people home, because what good are you sitting in the dark playing with matches? Not a whole lot, right? It also provides a very legitimate excuse for people to not do any work. Nothing can get accomplished without any electricity, therefore I must sit here and talk with my colleagues. We don't spend enough time together as it is.

But it's also really funny, because just as everything goes dark, you immediately find out who hasn't been saving any of their work. All that you hear from cubicles and offices is...

"Shit!"

"Fuck!"

"Goddammit motherfucking son of a bitch!"

That must really suck.

Posted by Sam at 09:06 AM | Permalink