Little Boy Moments...

I woke up today and met Jenn at the bus stop to go to Hollywood Studios with her and Alexandra before work. Going to the parks before work really helps boost morale for the day. I end my day not thinking that I haven't done anything with my day but work and also just puts me in a general better mood. We ride some of the rides I hadn't got on yet while snacking on Kit Kats and York pepperint patties that Alexandra brought.

Then I parted ways with them and went to work. Work was swell, because I got to be bathroom buddies (that sounds a little wrong, but simply means we had the same bathrooms all day). We danced at and after the parade with our choreographed dances to the songs, and at the closing song too.

Each day, I have a little boy of the day moment. For instance, the little british boy who lost his parents and the one who spilt hot chocolate on me. On little boy (s) of the day moment including me going up to these little boys crying in a stroller and giving them stickers. Afterwards, the mother says "thank you, but I don't need you to mother my children." I apologize, dumbfounded, and hand her a sticker, say "have a magical day," and walk away. But today's involved me sweeping by a kid in a stroller. Then, he says "here" and hands me his trash. Yeah, he's done with his Caprisun so he just gives it to me. I smile, thank him so much, and give him a sticker. But really I'm thinking...Really? This is what my life's become? Another recent one involved me getting whistled at. A little kid, not rudely or meanly, whistles, snaps his fingers, and points to some candy he dropped for me to clean it up. Again...really?

Never Came Home More Happy, Yet

So I got up and went to work. It was raining today. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to work the streets because that would mean eight hours of squeeging concrete and benches out in the rain, not to mention the insufferable cold that would follow. But honestly, there was just a dred amongst that haunted me the whole day anyways. Call it a case of the Mondays...on Saturday, because of having tose two days off and returning to work the next day. However, surely enough I got to work and had to be in the streets. Not awesome.

After work, I make plans with Savannah, Miss Scarlett, to go to dinner. We try and get a group together of ou co-workers but it ended up being a small group. We talk about her suspicions about her crazy roommate soaking her clothes, after Miss Scarlett's cooking of breakfast apperantly woke her up. This has yet to be confirmed, but it still it's hard to explain how her side of her room her clset, exclusively, including her (she mde a strong point of this, sweetheart that she is) $300 pair of Uggs. Poor thing. But I try and make it a fun night for her, so we end up joking and dancing the night away at Cici's and talking about a wide variety of subjects. We had a grand 'ol time.

She wanted to head Downtown afterwards, but I informed her that I had plans and couldn't attend. I was meeting up with Alexandra at Jenn's place (orginally intended to be over here, but we ended up hanging out over there because Jenn's was pretty much empty and mine was full of young men on the prowl...). We ended up talking about Alexandra's day, our jobs, and then watching Hercules.

I walked Alexandra to the bus stop, because she lives in a different apartment complex and can't be over later than 1AM. However, thanks to the glorious bus system, we wait for a bus to come for what seems like forever. But forever in delightful company doesn't seem half as bad. She finally gets a bus home and I get home.

The couple, I suppose I'll call the two lovers that stay together over here, made fudge. Two huge logs of it. I can't remeber coming home and being more delighted about a massive mess being made in my short time down here. They made homemade chocolate fudge with chocolate syrup and white chocolate chips on the top. It was divine! I also ame home to my roommate watching the fifth Harry Potter. He's a little bit addicted.

I love taking a somewhat downer of a day, nd spinning it into something great!

So I don't wake, I prepare first thing in the morning; this is mostly a part two of my last entry because of my all nighter over at Alexandra's lovely abode. She took small periods of rest in between, while I did some blogging or watched I Love Lucy reruns. But I literally spent the whole night awake. We had some trouble with alarms going off so so did she for the most part.

We get ready to head out to Magic Kingdom. I can't remember the last time I was awake at this hour down here. But it defintely reminds me of how absolutely beautiful this place is down here. The sunrise brings illumination to the new day filled with endless magical oppertunities in the Happiest Place on Earth. The early dawn's sunlight still lingers in the 9AM air, brushing against the palm trees and glowing in the cloudless sky. The birds chirp and mobilitate around your feet and the sky above. I ride the bus back to my plae for a change of clothes and where she gets the first look at the dark and dank lair I spend my life in. Suprisingly enough, the place looked decent, still slightly dirty but doable.

We left and headed for the Magic Kingdom. We went on the Haunted Mansion, which she was a total scardy-cat through while I courageously braved through. We got, much inducing drama with my "wife," Just Married pins and pretended to be married. I was disappointed by the bit of cast members that didn't acknowledge our faux nuptuals, but I suppose more did than didn't. We went and saw Tiana togther and I experienced the creamy and cool delight that is Dole Whip while she enjoyed her fix of esperesso for the morning. We went around to Adventureland to catch up with her friend Jenn in the Tiki Room (which, for those of who you have ever expereienced it...I simply don't understand it and I would like very much for someone to explain at least the premise to me. Call me a simpleton, but the show just went way over my head).

Afterwards, it was about time Alexandra be getting to work. So when I left her, I had a fastpass for Pooh, a ride she had the great misfortune of missing out on with me. I went on that alone, in my own honey pot (something I enjoyed other than the strange stares I got from the guests waiting in line), and left the park. I went to Wal-Mart to go grocery shopping, which took me a good couple of hours and a day to eventually get there and home thanks to the brilliant bus system. I was gravely disappointed in the fact there was no palm leaves left...it's been so long!

When I get home, being on my Potter binge, I pop Chamber of Secrets into the DVD player. One of my roommates commented that he only saw the first film and wasn't really into it and he wondered if he should give this one a shot. I implored him to do so. So he watched it and absolutely loved it. I successfully converted a non-believer. I now know the purpose God has sent me on this program for.

Later that night, Alexandra, Jenn, Dayna, Tess (a new friend who works at my park in merchandise), and I head to dinner Downtown. We go T-Rex, the Rainforest Cafe-like resturant which Jenn was absolutely estatic about. Jenn is a huge Disney nut, and she's a fan of anything highly themed. So, naturally, everytime the "meteor shower" went off, she got extremely excited. I had the Paleozoic Chicken Sandwhich, an item I had gotten my last visit to Disney with my family about a half a year ago. It's shaved blackened chicken, lettuce, tomato, lemon aloli (which I suppose is a Florida tradition or something because they use it like Mayonnaise) all folded in bewteen two pieces of fried piza dough and potato chips. Okay, not the healthiest choice, but eaitng good is the last thing on my mind at the present.

When I get home, I don't go to bed for several hours. The insomnia gets the better of me and I'm up very late. Big surpirse.

Good Day

So today was a blast. I had plans with Alexandra to go to EPCOT with some friends of her’s from work who turned out to be simpy delightful to hang out with. We ended up creating “a family” of sorts. We met Princess Aurora and I had a friend, Kaitlin, that I went to high school with that I thought would be just perfect for the part.

But we started riding some of the rides, such as Ellen’s Energy Adventure which I am embarrassed to say I liked...long story. Anyways, after we knocked down a few of the attractions, we went to dine in China at the world exhibition. It was very good, and very expensive for what I got. I got General Tso’s dumplings in a tangy red Chinese Sauce which ended up tasting a lot like barbacue sauce. It was eleven bucks for simply that. So disappointed, I go search for dessert. The girls decide to get gelato, and they get me to pronounce the flavors and different creations they had at the stand. I choose to go to France for the delectible-looking pastries I saw last time. I got a chocolate crossiant, mostly due to an impossible sense of indecisiveness in a baked goods shop. Like really, what did I expect? Nicole, one of my new friends/family members, got a fantastic chocolate eclair that she was so gracious to share with me and Alexandra (or Alex for short, Al for super short, and X for even shorter) got something called Sarag- something. It looked divine, a creuler type confection laced with a plethora of chocolate chips and glazed with a light sugar coating. It was the suggestion of the bakery girl’s, who was from France...obviously, and her favorite she claims.

After that, she wanted to go watch Fantasmic, the finale show at Hollywood Studios. I have been wanting one of those Mickey Ice cream sandwiches for the longest time and I planned on getting one there. But when we got there (which is another story by itself, I shall tell it in the next paragraph...stay tuned), they girls decided to go to Ghirardelli and I immediately changed my mind.

Okay so how we got there. There is a boat that will take you from EPCOT to Hollywood Studios. Well we thought this would be a good idea. I remembered that you could also walk there, recalling the sidewalk outside the pond outside the park on my way to work once. Nicole asks the man how long the walk is, and he says it’s about a mile. They decided walking would be fine. However, it’s quite a hike, and not as clear cut as we might have liked it to be. There were a whole bunch of different paths extending from the boardwalk down there. So I ask fro directions from a man in a hotel as Liam. We find out the right way and Alexandra and I were jokingly bickering to each other. So Nicole and I take off running as a joke. However, Nicole abandons the joke, but I kept it going. I hate when I do that, when I take it too far. Anyways, they decide to take the boat. But I run the rest of the way there. I thought a little bit of exercise couldn’t hurt. So...technically, not an entirely long story, and it was a little boring and not very exciting, but still.

We go Downtown, and they decide to ditch out on Ghirardelli and get “something of substance.” What could be more substancial then the Heavenly God-send that is chocolate? But they wanted a burger or something for cheap. So we, of course, go to McDonald’s. I get the kid’s meal. Oh no, I’m regressing. I get a guniea pig I wasn’t to fond of, so I gave it to Alexandra. She gratefully cherished it. I was told that she had chocolate at her place. So naturally I went, after the rest of our family departed.

When we get to her apartment, her roommates have...a busy life. And that’s all I got to say about that. However, I end up spending the night on her floor, not in an abusive sort of way, but just because... Anyways, we stay up with all night, quite literally all night watching I Love Lucy (for which Alexandra has a love or kind of obsession for) and watch Moulin Rouge as we belt out the songs to each other, realizing only today that we are both theatre kids.

That’s the shrt version about just about everything that happened today. Although there is one last thing I’d like to commentate on, if I may (as if this is your blog and I’m asking you permission...)

God. He’s just...simply put, wonderful. I feel his presence all the time. I seriously believe he is like my best friend who is always there with me. I feel my heart swell up with love and appreciation for all this day has brought me and I thank him humbly for it. I never thought that God could be a companion, rather than simply creator and Father. But this is a different kind of friendship for me. A lot of the friendships I have consist of me being the caring, loving, supporting friend. The one people come to when they have troubles and I help them through it. But it’s nice for someone to do that for me. For someone to have this powerful and unconditional love for me, that always provides me with the care, love, and harmony I need to exist in day to day life. I’m constantly being amazed by the countless blessings he’s always bestowing upon me. I don’t know what more to say other than that God is...good.

I Guess It's Better than Being Edward Cullen

So my eating habits are of course on the declined, but honestly, who cares? I've kind of been starving ever since I lost a whole mess of weight way back when. I used to be a chubby and awkward child, a deadly combination. I lot a bunch of weight by doing it the right way, with diet and exercise. Now I feel like after all that, I deserve to indulge myself a little bit. And, if I gain a little bit of weight...well, I lost it before, I can do it again. By while down here, I'm going to live how I want.

Anyways, I essentially cooked last night's dinner all over again. Again, one of the most satisfying meals I have ever had the pleasure to consume.

In other news, and much to my pleasant surprise, I have begun striking up some conversation with my grandparents. I wrote me an email telling me that they had read the blog and I was, at first, mortified...considering some of the things I discuss here. Especially with a recent tad racy post, I was worried. But my grandfather sent me an extremely kind and accepting (and of course beautifully written...ah, to live in an age where good writing was a common courtesy. Not that I'm being snooty. I always partake in superficial conversation and the horrid mutilation to the English language known as texting). It was about this time that I realized that, although having grown up with my grandparents in my younger years and mostly through my teen years before I moved away from my hometown of Canton, Ohio to Tulsa, Oklahoma, I had never really gotten the chance to know them. I had never sat down and properly interrogated them about their lives. So I sent a reply asking that, first of all, in hopefully a series of delightful letters, he describe to me in detail how he and my grandmother met. When I get the reply, I get a small summarization of his whole life. It was incredibly fascinating! I felt as if I were moving through the lives of Forrest Gump or Benjamin Button. I was enthralled by his tale and I can't wait to hear more of the lessons his life here on Earth has taught him that he can pass on to me.

In other other news, my roommate commented, now that I have gotten over this sickness, that I looked ill. I feel perfectly fine...Quite well, in fact. That kind of depressed me. This was a couple of days ago. Tonight, that same roommate informed me of the person he said he was remind of by me: Jasper Hale from the Twilight series. I didn't know whether to be offended or receive the statement as a sort of compliment. So apparently, I look like a pale vampire. He said I also have the personality. So apparently, I'm, although a southern gentlemen, a socially awkward youngin' with self-control issues... Ah well.

Embarassingly enough to admit, I’ve started my latest Potter binge. I’ve started rereading the last book, and I rewatching the movies. I decided that was going to read the books in reverse order and watch the movies forward. There’s not particular reason for this but I just thought I should mention it.

God Bless My Awful Eating Habits and My Potty Mouth

So work was intensely boring as usual. So when I get home, I decide to make something of the night...or else what would I blog about, right?

I decided to make something new and hopefully delcious for dinner. I see the ground beef I randomly picked up at Wal-Mart the last time I went. I reach for it and start thinking. I'm going to need the medium saute pan for the beef. Problem is, my roomates, who are rather fond of home cooking, but not at all very talented at it, caught sausage on fire in the pan and now the bottom is lined with seared ash that looks simply disgsting and they've just left the dish there for the night and most likely for the rest of the week, or year.

So I'm scrubbing away, I mean really putting some elbow grease into it. I'm getting nowhere with it. I scrub and I scrub, but to no avail. I'm irevocably pissed off at them. I starting cursing profusely once I can't find any available dishes to cook with because, surprise, they haven't been done. I even say G D it (Goddamn it) and I apologize to God, who is seemingly by my side as my favorite tag along buddy, immediately. I don't have anything to even break the meat apart with. All that is in the drawer is a butter knife, which I fashioned into something to pick the meat apart with in the only dish I could get clean, a small saucepan. I don't even have a fork to eat things with when I've finished.

I've never really cooked ground beef before, sad as that is with all the cooking I have done. I figured it'd be very simple and so I took to it and suceeded. I made the whole tube, because I didn't know what else to do with it. Then, I made some rice. I split it up into two bowls. In the one bowl of rice, I added lemon juice, a heavy amount of pepper and some salt. It was scrumtous. I took out the torillas, which have, until this point, basically replaced my use of bread, and I loaded it up with the some of the beef and rice, with two dollops of sour creme. I wrap it up and put it on the paper plate, because God forbid I dirty any more dishes than need be. So with the other half of the rice, I put it on the plate and add some soy sauce (which by the way has to be the most satisfying side item ever created by man). I also, snack on all the other things in my cabinet as well, and an apple. My eating habits have become horrible. I eat, and I eat a lot, to no end. Just a little bit of everything here and there. Still, I've yet to notice any weight gain from this so I'm completely stoked.

Anyways, it was delicious and I loved it. Try it sometime...if you dare.

Here's the thing. I am a giant prude. End of story. Always have been, probably always will be.

Caution...we're about to get a tad racy.

Today, and mostly lately in general, I've been kind of a loner going through the motions: sitting by myself at breaks, going to and from work in silence and waking up minutes before I have to repeat the pattern again. Anyways, some co-workers call me over after they see me sitting alone. I, begrudingly, join them. I say begurdingly because I had quite liked being alone for a little bit, although I spend the whole day alone walking in circles with a broom and dust pan. So I go over there hoping for they best, thinking there must be some kind of conversation to have with them.

No. They are talking about sex. Intensely gross things and in detail. They're delivery of the scandalous things they were saying we're so very non-chalant. As if it were perfectly normal to, in front of several girls, and those girls surprisingly enough joining in, for these guys to be talking this way. Perhaps it is perfectly normal to about every other teenager and adult, but to me it's different.

I don't particularly know what I mean by this. I'm horribly ambiguous and terribly ddubious about my views and beliefs about sex and pretty much all topics about such things. I, having been raised with the Catholic sense of guilt, was taught that sex was a sacred bond clandestined only to be shared with those bonded through Holy Matrimony. But, as with many subjects in the Catholic faith, I found myself disagreeing and believing that if two people truly, truly love each other than I saw no reason why a relationship could not be consumated if they so choose. This all probably would have been much easier to deal with at this or any other age if more sexual oppertunities were presented to me. But if they had, I probably would have reacted in God awful awkwardness and confusion. Which I guess pretty much sums up the way I feel about this subject in two words.

Anyways, enough of that! I just thought it was funny that the minute I came over and talked to these people they start making me immediately uncomfortable in the easiest way possible. I kind of sat back and just took it all in, wide-eyed. They commented how "Aaron mus be sitting here wondering...What kind of people do I work with?!" To be honest, I wasn't judging them at all and I thought nothing less of them. I realize that I am the weird one on this. I mean everyone and their mother, my roomates, my co-workers, and everyone else in the world is comfortable with being completely slutty. So... C'est la vie, and I'll have to get used to it.

Best Way to End an Entry Is With an 80's Reference

To clarify before beginning, my roomates are very nice people. They just have some habits. For instance, they like to not do dishes. Normally, this wouldn't phase me, becaue of the tiny joy derived from cleaning incessantly. However, it's becoming a bit excessive.

There has been quite literally a mountain of dishes in the sink for some time now. I would usually do them when I get home, but I've started working pretty late and in the mornings I'm somehwat rushed to blog, eat, get ready for work, and leave for the bus. So I keep putting them off, hoping that they have enough sense to get around to doing them. I walk past them each an every day thinking that they'll do them. Next day...okay maybe eventually. No, it's been like that forever.

Then today, it was as if I lived in a bad sitcom. They all walked past the sink, adding more dishes all the while, and then walk away. One of my roomates, Evan, the saint, who is legitamitaely a good and decent person, said he is not doing them because he usually does them. To his defense, I have seen him do some before. And he's not the one making all the mess anyways. But after hearing this, one of my roomates was at the sink, he looked at the dishes, and walks away.

So I of course do them. I then team up with Evan to clean the rest of the apartment, but sadly enough I've become somewhat of their housewife. I clean their dishes, I take out their trash, and remind them of places they need to be. As great as that is, it's getting a little old.

Again, I generally like all of them, and they are good people, but they just have some habits. I'm not the kind of person to say anything about it either. So life will go on.

Works becoming monotonous, but inevitable. I've met some fun people at the parks. I rn into some Italians the other day and I was super excited because I was able to have small bits of onversation and give directions in Italian. Other than that...Dullness to the Max

Milk Duds are the Best Thing Since Sliced Bread Don'tcha Know

Today I did something I haven't done in a very long time. I went to a movie by myself. If you've never done so before, I suggest you give it a try. The first time I ever did, I went to see There Will Be Blood alone, mostly because I couldn't find anybody who wanted to watch a boring ol' indie movi with me at the time. But I had been wanting to see it for a real long time so I decided to just go alone. It was an incredibly relaxing experience. Being in a dark, somewhat quiet place taking a journey with the characters on the screen alone can be, for lack of better word, nice. Plus, there's no awkwardness of other humans being with you. You can react to what's on the screen in whichever ways you'd like without conforming to any social code.

I went early in the day, of course, because it's cheaper. I went to see Valentine's Day. It was pretty much what I expected it to be. Not amazingly funny, or profoundly deep on any level, but a feel good little romantic comedy. I'm a sucker for those. It was very much like He's Just Not That Into You, which I didn't like the first time I saw it, but grew to like it the more thought I gave the film. However, I'm going to stop myself while I'm ahead. This blog has already beome somewhat of a food critique and we don't need to dip into another medium for me to pick apart, although I am a huge movie buff and critic.

What I did expect, was to walk in and be heart broken over my ex (job that is, but we're going with the theme of it being a previous lover). Working at a movie theatre for three years has it's perks. Such as seeing pretty much every single movie that is released for free (it was so weird having to actually pay for a movie. I thought it would be much more painful to spend money on watching a movie, but oddly enough it wasn't that big of a deal. I feel so...normal). Also, and I though of this as I crossed the posters hanging in the halls, I loved getting the free posters, though towards the end the company I worked for got much more stingy with it's poster handouts. I missed covering my entire walls, and ceiling for that matter, with the face of some movie star or the working art for next summer's blockbuster. But I wasn't very much heartbroken. It was a different theatre and a different theatre chain mind you, but still I was expecting devastation. This heatre brought just the slightest form of nostalgia rather than pain. Which I suppose is a sign of improvement.

I took with my only my duct-taped zune, my "wallet" (Altoid's tin), my ID (though I almost forgot it again), and a box of Milk Duds, my absolute favorite candy. I was excited to finally get to spend some time with myself, which is odd because I usually only ever get excited about hanging out with other people. Now, I find myself looking forward with the time I get to share with only me. It may be a little sad, but alone time is growing on me. Especially if I have Milk Duds to accompany me.

When the movie was over, I of course went to Ghirardelli to get my sample of chocolate square. I go every single time I head downtown. It wouldn't be the same if I didn't, although this time it almost cost me missing the bus. But it didn't and I got on the bus, got ready for work, and left.

Maybe Valentie's Day wasn't the best movie to see, especially alone. I was feeling a little lovesick afterwards. I thought about this the entire ride home. I'm not one to go out looking for a relationship down here so that I can fool around with someone down here for a couple of months, with no strings attached, and both understand that "we're just having fun." I hate that expression. I also hate that I take relationships way too seriously for my age. Here I am at eighteen, almost nineteen, and when I date someone I start looking way into the future. If I can't see myself marrying them, I freak out and start having doubts. The only way to relate this, is by saying that I am much in the same group as Ben Stiller in Along Came Polly. This should all probably be saved for another blog when I can elaborte more on it without losing the interest of all you bleaders.

Work was magnifceiently bring until I remembered that my brother's girlfriend was here for a jazz choir competion with some of my old former classmates and cast members from drama class. I met up with them, and they all greeted me with gracious hugs and love. I talked to them for a bit and my day was immediately brightened. However, I did have to work to midnight and no amount of brightness could shine through the black of night I would have to work through.

But I came home to cook some ramen, the way Courtney suggested I do it. You make the moodles, drain the water, add the seasoning, and add lemon juice and stir. It was, of course, delightful and totally scrumptous. I snacked on some other things and then went to watch 30 Rock and fall asleep on the couch. That's all folks.

The Honeymooners

I awoke this morning with loose plans about doing something with Dayna. I knew we both expressed interest in going to the Universal Citywalk and going to EPCOT but other than that, I just understood we were to meet. When we finlly got into contact, plans, as always when they are loosely based and not set in stone, which is always with me, had of course been changed. We are going to Animal Kingdom and then Citywalk in about two seconds...So I sprang out of bed and start getting ready. Fortunately, I have mastered the art of quick change and was able to do this in the very small amount of time that I had to do so.

Also, Alexandra, the friend I previously experienced Magic Kingdom with on Dayna and I's "Wedding Day," tagged along with us. Her prescence provides a sort of relaxed, fresh, and hip air to our journey. Much to my "wife's" annoyance, we giggled incesantly joking about such things as Disney, global warming, and other miscellaneous topics that popped into our brains at any given moment. The rides at Animal Kingdom porved to be just a little much for Dayna. She, apperantly, gets scared more easily than others, which I can't really commentate on because you would have to chase my with a knife to get an fearful response out of me.

Afterwards, we went to Universal Citywalk; a fine benefit to "marrying" a girl with a car. Oh! But before that, I was invited to a party! I was shocked. I rarely even get invited to parties at home, let alone when I'm in a new city all by myself. Teddy was hosting "una fiesta a mi (tu) casa," but we decided against going and went to Citywalk. But, sad as it is, it was a major ego boost. So we have to ask for directions, so I go into Lonestar and ask the hostess, thinking she'll roll her eyes or tear my head off when I ask, and she very kindly points me in the right direction.

When we get there, there are a lot of choices. One thing I didn't take into consideration when I was forcefully "married," was that the girl was just as bad (no, not just as bad...that's imposible!) at making decisions as I am. We go through some of the shops and browse for a good resturant. We were going to go to Jimmy Buffett's Maragraitaville, but the wait was taking forever, and we didn't really feel like waiting forever and a day. So we scoped out a place called the Latin Quarter, a Latin, obviously, resturant by day and salsa club by night. We wait for a few minutes for a table in the Universal gift shop having some fun with the various merchandise. Then, we go to eat.

The place as absolutely phenomenal! However, I took quite literally forever, to pick a meal. My friends actually got a taste of how horribly indecisive I can get. So after half a day, I decided on a four cheese chicken pasta: Penne pasta with a chimmichurri sauce (a spicy olive oil, and garlic mixture) combined with a four cheese sauce, tender chicken slices, and chewy chorizo. It was incredible. Dayna ordered an appetizer, that was a mound of melted cheese that seemed to have been blowtorched to delicious perfection, with bacon bits and other goodness inside. For dessert, Aexandra and I got TCBY soft serve, although we were throughly stuffed from an amazing dinner, and Dayna got Tres Leches, a wedding cake-like dessert, from the resturant to go.

When we finally went home with leftovers form dinner, (thank God, because I wanted that dish to last forever in my mouth) we were pretty tired. When I got home, I pretty much fell right into my noisey, flat mattress and went straight to sleep. It's nice to be tired from having fun for a change.

It's Gonna Be a Bright, Bright, Bright, Bright Sunshine-y Day

If I were to describe this day in one word I believe the proper word would be: bright. Everything is illuminated as I walk down the sunkissed and partly shaded sidewalk, as I ride the slow and lesiurely (a thing thought by me to be impossible in a driver) bus ride, or simply look out the translucent windows surrounding me. It's, needless to say, a beautiful day with the birds chirping and all.

Today is not only payday, which is always exciting to begin with, not that I ever spend any money anyways unless the small rush for chocolate occurs, but, also, it's my first day off in a very long while. I sleep in a little (again, sad that I find 10AM sleeping in nowadays), then I decided to get busy. I head to the post office to send some postcards and then walk over to the plaza close by. I get Taco Bell because I've been craving it ever since I saw that TV for that big box, I knew I had found my match...a classic American love story.

So I started a new book, regrettably. I say this, because I'm not ready to part with Liz. I felt like she was on my side, along with me on this journey. Unfortunately, this relationship is getting weird. I had a dream about her a couple nights ago and it involved...a wedding. I'm not sure if it was ours or her wedding to (spoiler alert) a guy she meets in the book. If it was ours, I think I remember telling her at some point that I was happy fo her and she should marry him. In any case, we were like best friends and this all took place at Hollywood Studios, for example the wedding was to be held in the animation courtyard for those of you who are familiar with the geography of the park. We went around running to all the rides and shows, and watched them. This sucks, because I would relly just love to meet her. But now, I'm that creepy stalker fan in the back who has a crush on a writer because of a book she wrote. I'm pretty sure if I ever did get the chance to meet her, I would be incredibly awkward and end up not saying much, just like I did with Tiana, and, for the most part, every human being I've come into contact with here. Heavy sigh.

So I had to run back to the other plaza to the bus stop if I was going to make it on time. I was wearing my Chucks, which have been beaten to death and are quite literally hanging by a thread. I love my shoes. Not in a girly obsessive way, but just in the way that I see them as...pals? That's not the right word, but it's like I'e been through so much with them and I don't want to part with them. For instance, I've had these Converses since Freshman year in high school. I can remember how upset I was when my mom would throw out my shoes because of how incredible ratty they get, like my dark beige puma's...my first love. Anyways, I see the bus coming up as I'm still a ways from the stop, but on the right path. Thankfully, the kind driver stops and picks me up. I thank him as Liam because I feel like, when I'm screwing up or alone or being awkward, if I'm foreign people may be charmed rather than uncomfortable.

I decide to go to Wal-Mart after that. I wanted to go to Magic Kingdom to get some of the legendary pineapple whip and meet Tiana again. But I didn't want to go meet her alone, that's a little creepy stalkerish and I'm already doing bady enough on that front with someone else. A true stalker should only have one subject....(wow...gross, Aaron) But I decide against it. When I get to Wal-Mart, I of course head straight for the Palm Leaves. Everytime I go for them, there's always just the amount I need. One, or if I'm with someone there's two left. It's like a sign from God. Anyways, I spend the rest of my time there browsing the isles for food. I'm pretty much set on groceries so I'm pretty much just leisure shopping now. I pick up some fruits, including some I've never tried before such as papaya, kiwi, and honeydew (actually I have tried honeydew...mmm), because my eating habits are slowly becoming terrible. Also, I want something a little international. So I went don that isle. I didn't get anything too crazy. I got what's called a Yorkie, a british candy bar and an latin Aero bar, which consists of millions of little chocolate balls that come together to make one bar. Both are made by Nestle so I didn't think I could go too wrong with them. Also, I got peeps. I. Love. Peeps. I'm quite certain that they are amy favorite candy, ever. And frozen, they are other worldly!

After Wal-Mart there's free dinner at my apartment complex. It's pizza and snacks but still. I call up Amanda and she confirms she's going and I meet up with her and pretty much talk her ear off the entire night. I think I may have talked more than her, which believe me is an extremely hard thing to do. After the dinner, we decided to go EPCOT to watch Illuminations, the fireworks display at the end of the night, which were absolutely amazing as we scarfed down a funnel cake we split between us.

I came home to watch some 30 Rock and eat my Palm Leaves. Good day.

A vow, a Break, and, of course, Chocolate

Today was my first taste of a short shift. It was six hours. It's amazing how shaving two hours off a shift of a day of this job can make the day seem like it's moving at lightspeed. I still start at two, but I get off at 8ish.

During the coarse of my shift, I'm scheduled the same bathrooms as Savannah, the darling gem of the South whom I have affectionatly nickednamed Scarlett/ Miss Scarlett (or Tennessese...haven't decided). But at the beginning of our shift, the parade was on. We stood and watched and danced. Afterwards, there's this extremely catchy song named "Celebrate You" comes on. We start walking around dancing and singing along to that. We decide that we need to construct some distinct choreography to go along with the song so we can dance to it when it comes on. Plans are made. The rest of the day involves us going from restroom store room to restroom store room singing kareoke Disney songs. Everything from "Part of Your World" to "I'll Make a Man Outta You." We had a grand ol' time.

Also, I've decided to join the human race again, I decided to, rather than sitting in a corner alone brooding, to sit with all the other Custodians while on breaks. I found out, amazingly enough, that I can actual hold a conversation. If I try.

So here's my vow: To love life, relentelssly and unconditionally. To never give up on the sure optimism that each new day brings. This is a necessity for happiness. Life's not about bitching constantly about how horrible something is. And when they say "Life gives you good and bad...it's what you make of it"...they're wrong. Things happen, and maybe you don't always have control over them and the effect they have over you. But understanding this, and knowing that Life is sometimes beyond your control can be more empowering than thinking you can somehow control the uncertainity that Life constantly presents to each and every one of us. If one can switch to this change of mindset, the outcome can be far better than being stuck in a endless rut of self-pity and woe. The challange is actually turning to this mindset, which is something I've yet to do.

I get off at eight and I suggested to Savannah that we go out for ice cream at Ghirardelli after work. She agrees and we head Downtown with Natasha, an extremely lax, warm co-worker. Kevin (No! Not O G Kev, though I do see him very often. We exchange plesantries and I consider baking him cookies or something), another co-worker, and a new friend named Dan, Savannah's southern gentleman, meet up with us and we walk around talking about our day, our job, and having an all around good time. However, almost everything is closed down, so we kinda just stand around conversing. We run into a drunken woman who asked us what the time was and why everything was closed saying that it was only like 9 or ten o clock. Savannah, sweet as a Georgia peach, tells her that it's eleven and that's pretty much when eveything closes down and comments that "it's okay, when you're drunk you kinda forget about time." The lady replies "yeah whatever, thanks white pants (she was wearing white pants, but still...really?)." O diss...except not.

So we go proceed to go home, and I ride home in the trunk of Savannah's PT Crusier, so that this other girl, one of Savannah's roomates, wouldn't have to. This girl is a character preformer and she earlier mentioned that her job has indeed made her very creepy because when she see's very small children she wants to go hug them. Ah, Disney...

I like being social. I like having little moments like this with people. I just crave more of it. Call me greedy, but I'm goin in for more.

Yet Another Late Night Dash

I've been kind of a bum lately. I'm slacking on my blogging duties and I'm dressing in hobo-like apperal almost constantly. Perhaps this is a direct result of my demanding work schedule, but it's also a lack of caring a general depression. I go to work everday in Pajama pants and my work shirt under my crappy work jacket. Sometimes taking a shower, or holding off until that night. Also, meals aren't really meals any more. They consist of me snacking on the various types of snack foods I have and devouring potato chips with sour creme until I feel like I am about to...protein. You may think this would lead to some serious weight gain, and you should be right. However, I'm shrinking. Perhaps it's because this is the only "meal" that i usually eat during the day and my job requires that I walk miles on end relentlessly for eight hours.

Also, my personality is gross. I wake up thinking about going to work and just dreading. It's not that my job is stressful or hard by any stretch of the imagination and I don't hate it. But I do hate how it somewhat consumes my life. So the mere mindset of that kind of gets you down every now and then. Though, this is all probably just the beginning of some rut that eventually will pass.

So work is work, as I continue to bum out. When I get off, I feel like chocolate. I want palm leaves, but I'm too disappointed by my last visit to muster up the energy to meet the want. So I decide to go to chocolate Heaven...Downtown.

Now, Downtown closes at around 11PM. I got off at 945 and I get home at 1030. It was a dash; a dash for love, desire, and passion (...chocolate. In case you were wondering). I have three minutes to get inside change and get down to catch the bus. But when I want something done...it gets done. I mean, it's chocolate. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

In this process, I feel a surge of independance and freedom. I keep endlessly debating with myself the whole way through. I want cookie dough and potato chips, too. I say to myself, no. But then I ask myself "Who the hell says I can't have cookie dough, potato chips, and chocolate?" It begins a frenzy. I ask myself that question about everything. I pick my clothes and I feel a little leary about going Downtown in pajama pants and a hoodie and I'm like "Who the hell says I can't?" "Who the hell says I can't have some crackers too?" "Who the hell says I can't not wear socks?" I'm a rebel...with a cause: chocolate.

I get to Downtown at about 1055. I have five minutes to close. I'm going to Goofy's Candy Company, which is on the complete other side of the bus stop. I begin to run. I'm coming up on Ghirardelli. I want it so passionately, but think it's unwise to stop in for the complimentary sample of lucious, smooth caramel in a decadent square of milk chocolate... "Who the hell says I can't?" So I go. I get it. I get out. I keep running to Goofy's. I make it! Just at the last second.

Of course, the hard part is making a decision about what I want. Now, making a decision is hard enough for me to make when it's not about chocolatey goodness... so this is brutal! There's marshmallow, pretzels, candy apple, and so many other things to drench in the velvety chocolate. I end up choosing the "fudge cookie": an giant pair of Oreo cookies stuffed with peanut butter fudge, dipped in Midnight black dark chocolate, rolled in soft bits of Reese's cups, and drizzled with white chocolate. AH! Bliss!

I return home. Energized and full of love, chocolate (wait aren't they the same thing), and the spirit of a strong, independant man. God yes!

He's Leavin'! On that Mid-Night Train to Wal-Mart!

This repetitive schedule of getting home around 11, going to bed at midnight or later (much...much later), getting up at like 10 or 11AM just to eat a quick bowl of ramen before I go off to work for eight to ten hours and go home to repeat it is becoming a little tiresome. I feel empty, going through the motions kind of deal.

I think of this as I go to work. When I arrive at work, it's the easiest it's been since I've arrived. No real responsibilities, just panning and brooming around. I get off and then I deicide to shake things up a little (it's sad that I find what I did actually exciting).

The late night bus to Wal-Mart (that sounds like a Tina Turner song...) is tonight and I decide to hop on it for some decadent palm leaves. When I get off the bus home, I realize I left my ID on the bus that is just about to leave. I hurry back to it and it leaves right in front of me. I have to wait until it comes back around again which is a good hour. I can't wait in my apartment or change there because you need your ID to get into the apartment complex, nor can you get on another bus. So I lie on that bench, hating my life, and the bus finally comes back. I get on and tell the bus driver I lost it. It's not on the bus, he suggests I call the office at another apartment comple to see if someone had turned it in. Surely enough, it had. So now I have to wait for a bus there. Once I get there, I get my ID and decide, to Hell with it, and I'm going to Wal-Mart in my costume...I had a jacket on covering most of it anyways.

I have to wait forever in the bitter cold and it's about 12:30 before a bus finally comes. I get on it and I go. When I arrive, there is are no more palm leaves! I can't believe it! I end up settling for these...the sign said turnovers, but I didn't believe it. It was a tube of fried dough filled with cream cheese and covered in a layer of powdered sugar. It was good, but it wasn't the same. I did however eat one, and then return for another one. I don't get another bus home until 145. I guess maybe this is a sign I should live life more mildly. Wow...really sad.

Feeling a Bit Lighter

So I get up, and I know that I have to work tonight from 4PM to 2AM. I don't know if it's worth going out and then coming back just to leave. But I decide to go ahed and give myself the raincheck I deserved. So I head out to the mexican resturant where I had my Heaven-sent enchiladas, for lunch.

I get on the bus to get there, and it doesn't go to the location I need to go on Sundays, apperantly... good to know. By the way, I fear for my life everytime I get on one of these buses. I'm certain that one of them is bound to wreck with the way they drive. So I take the bus to the nearest apartmenet complex. I don't know if I really want to walk the entire way there or pick somewhere closer. But this was a raincheck I had to hold myself to, so I did.

So I hike my way out to the place. When I get there, I get a table...for one. God, I really can't make a decision to save my life. I went there with the intention of getting a salad since it might be good to eat something healthy for once while down here. But it hard to decide when those awesome enchiladas are staring at you on the other side of the menu, along with several other delicious looking entrees. After about an hour, much to the waiter's probable annoyance, I finally choose the salad.

The Santa Fe chopped salad. It's scrumdidiliumptous. It has mesquite grilled chicken breast, chopped tomatoes, burnt (in a good way), crips bacon, cumbles of rich bleu cheese and fire roasted corn salsa. I couldn't even make a clear decision about the dressing I wanted, so I told him to bring all of them. I ended up choosing the apple chipotle vinagarette. It was spicy and sweet, with the added touch of fruit...as you proabably guessed. As I was eating I was finishing up EAT PRAY LOVE. Heavy sigh...I'm not ready to part with Liz yet.

So I've finished my meal and I'm ready for the check. Now, I had completely forgotten it was Valentine's Day until the waiter gave me the check and said "Happy Valentine's Day." Courtney had told my before, but I completely forgot. Then I realized how alone I was. On the long road home, I was accompanied by a long slew of text messages wishing me the same thing. Sad news, here I am walking home alone, after eating alone, going home...alone. But I was okay with that. I've never had someone on Valentine's anyways so it's nothing I'm not used to.

I get home and I go to work. But nothing there is important. But what is important, is that I ate the palm leaves that had been sitting on my counter for days. I toasted it first and realized it was the only true way to eat them.

I guess today was okay. Better than last.

Disappointed

Today was a full day of...nothing.

It began with me sitting in a conference room for eight hours, starting at the ungodly hour of 630AM. It was some more basic training. It was pretty much the worst thing I've ever experienced, but I didn't care because I had the night off. And by God, I was going to do somehing with it!

Also, I was being extremely good at being social. I talked the whole time with the new friend I made, Savannah...the embellishment of the heart and southern hospitality from her home state of Tennsesse, twang and all. In fact, I was talking to everyone in the room at some points. We were all laughing and having a good time, in light of our rediculously disgusting, never ending line of meetings.

The whole time, I had been feeling a little ill. This is mostly having to work 2Pm 2 11PM or 2AM every night in the cold and the rain. My nose was embaraasingly dripping ocsionally. But I wasn't feeling to shabby. Finally, we were released at four or five.

I drove home with Savannah and some of my new comrades. The enitre ride home, Ray, an African-American cosmetology major, was screaming at cars with his windw rolled down in the middle of rush hour traffic, and later we all took turns. Savannah drove, and she spiratically honked her horn at people. Surprisingly enough, probably because everyone here is on vacation, layed along and waved, danced, or honked back with a smile.

I wanted to get together with all of them later to hang, nd I had mentioned it to Savannah earlier. However, I wasn't really sure how to get something together without being awkward. So I just gave up and went home. When I got there, I was a littl tired from getting up so early, so I decided to take a little power nap and then go out and have dinner at the mexican place by myself.

When I wake up, about an hour or two later, I am totally and utterly sick. My nose is running like no other and my eyes are blood red (I dredded another run in with my nemesis, the pink eye). I think I may have a fever but I not sure. I'm not particularyl sure what ou are supposed to do when your sick so, to get cured, what does a newly on his own, technology savvy teen living in the twenty-first century do...consult with his mother? No! He simply Googles it.

So I Google these home remedies and I preform them immediately. I'm boiling water to steam my face in, with my nasal and eye droppings spewing into the bowl, and gargling salt water like I had just been infected with some deadly virus. A hot, wet towel rarely left my face. In a few hours, I was feeling perfecty fine. Gotta love Google! It was getting a little late, not too late for any place to get cold, but I was still feeling like it wasn't worth going out. If I was going to go out, I wanted to be able to enjoy it without feeling in the slightest sense miserable. So I stay home.

My roomates, thankfully enough, didn't come home until late so I was able to steam my face a few more times. But they brought company and I was a wee bit hungry but I couldn't go out looking the way I did. So I stayed in my bed the rest of the night...diappointed.

I was lucky

Amazing By: Aerosmith Lyrics

I kept the right ones out
And let the wrong ones in
Had an angel of mercy to see me through all my sins
There were times in my life
When I was goin' insane
Tryin' to walk through
The pain
When I lost my grip
And I hit the floor
Yeah,I thought I could leave but couldn't get out the door
I was so sick and tired
Of livin' a lie
I was wishin that I
Would die

[Chorus:]
It's Amazing
With the blink of an eye you finally see the light
It's Amazing
When the moment arrives that you know you'll be alright
It's Amazing
And I'm sayin' a prayer for the desperate hearts tonight

That one last shot's a Permanent Vacation
And how high can you fly with broken wings?
Life's a journey not a destination
And I just can't tell just what tomorrow brings

You have to learn to crawl
Before you learn to walk
But I just couldn't listen to all that righteous talk, oh yeah
I was out on the street,
Just tryin' to survive
Scratchin' to stay
Alive
[Chorus]

Desperate hearts, desperate hearts

Heavy Sigh

I have a problem, but I'll get to that later.

Today I awoke early to go with some friends to Animal Kingdom. It's a super cool park with a lot of neat things to do. I went with some of Amanda's roomates and Teddy, who came only at the last second.

The entire time, I was being entirely lame. I talk and joke at some points in the trip, but otherwise, I was just being awkward. That's what I am: extremely awkward. I can't help it. As we ride the roller coasters, I sit there smiling, sometimes, and my pictures they take on the ride are always calm and not dramatic like everyone else is. I don't ever go crazy against my overbearingly calm state of mind. This kind of state of mind is highly susceptible to depression, which is what of course comes next.

I feel heavy the rest of the day. I left early to get to Wal-Mart before the last bus comes. Even that bright building of joy and happiness couldn't drag me out of this deepness. I go home and drop my stuff off and head to Cici's to drown my sorrows in pizza and chocolate with Liz, my not literal, literary friend. So I sit there and then I go home.

There's only so many times you can go places alone before yuo start to feel like a loser. Meeting people here is so complicated. It's like speed-dating... friendship... You'll talk to someone for like five minutes on the bus and if you don't there number, you're never going to see them again. Which makes things difficult and a little awkward. For women, it may seem like your getting picked up asking for a number so quickly in your breif relationship. For men, it's kind of the same thing, because if they're gay, than it's like your asking for a date. If they're straight, they came to Disney assuming that every guy other than them that comes here is gay, so it's like you're trying to pick them up. This is all probably me just overthinking the situation, but that's what I do.

I'm completely neurotic. I would love to be more social, I would love to have more friends here. I want to be more outgoing and do exciting things with exciting people. Liz finds a way, even while at rock bottom, to maintain relationships with people all over the world. I can't even talk to someone. I just silently read my book and listen to my zune, brooding in the corner. I would change if I could. It's impossibly frustrating; to know who would like to be and be completely unable to become that thing because of your true nature. I want to have all the lovliness of being alone, but in the company with friends. In the beginning, I thought 'Well, I'm going to see the peole I work with more than the people I live with or are friends with so I'll wait until then.' Except I landed the most solitary job here. It's only been two weeks here, and I have a few friends...but none I'm getting really close to, or spending that much time with; this is especially difficult, because even if you're lucky enough to find people you really bond with, you rarely have the same days off. It's just sad.

So there I was, collapsed on my staircase dwelling on these things, because I'm too awfully pathetic to get up and do anything. And...nothing. No revelation, no silver lining...No resolution.

Today, in the Words of Dane Cook, Was a Blasty Blast

Today was awesome, to say the least. It started with me getting up...obviously. When I did, I caught up on some more TV and then headed off to Magic Kingdom with Dayna, loveable Harry Potter nerd extraordinaire. While on Main Street, we took a picture with the Mayor. He asked us if we were on our honeymoon and we replied "oh...well...uh..n-" and he kinda told us we were anyways. So there we were. Wedded on Main Street...kinda. We met up with some of her friends, who proved to be truly wonderful, and we had a blast. We ran around Magic Kingdom rampid fist pumping (Jersey Shore reference) on the roller coasters, joking about our Disney made family lives (Alexandra, one of her friends, and soon to be mine if only it can be made Facebook official, since that is the only true way to tell if a friendship exists or not of course, was also "married" to a street preformer at Hollywood Studios), and last, but certainly not least, took pictures with Tiana and Naveen!

Tiana and Naveen are, of course, from the marvelous new Disney film The Princess and the Frog. We waited a long time to get to see them and words could not describe how exctied I was to actually see them! I had been looking for them everywhere around Disney World and I finally pinpointed them. So as I go to meet them, Tiana takes me by the hand and greets me. She asks where I'm from and I say Tulsa and Naveen mistkes me for salsa. We share a good laugh over it and I tell him that wasn't quite the city's name but that I was a big fan of the food itself. He then thinks it over and says "Tulsa, Nebraska?" I smile and tell him "close, but not so much (deep inside I'm really saying "haha shut your face," because I am completely smitten with Princess Tiana)." Tiana replies "Well we do know one thing, you like food." I exclaim in agreeance and we proceed to take a picture. It was awesome, except for the fact that Dayna's camera was dying and I didn't have mine, so she took a picture with her phone. So when she sends it to me, the piture is considerably smaller. But at least I have something.

Later that night, we go to an event at one of the apartment complexes for Mardi Gras. We have some scrumptous food. They were serving red beans and rice, jambalaya, fried chicken, and some kind of delciousity that could have been bread pudding of something...but it was amazing. Also, they had some sweet (sweet as in the food, you youngsters...) cornbread that was simply divine. Then Princess Tiana and Prince Naveen a make guest apperance at the party. Excited, Dayna and I scurry along to meet them. I still don't have my camera, but I am not one to miss up a perfect oppertunity to chat with Tiana! So Dayna takes a pictue of me with them, with my phone, and gives it to me. It doesn't save. So I don't really have a good picture with them, but I got sixteen weeks to go and get one. I love those those kids...

So then we go to Downtown Disney. Dayna has to make a shirt and I go with her. I decide I want to make one too. I was going to make one to reflect my life here. So i picked the emblem with Dory from Finding Nemo that said "Just Keep Swimming" and at the top said "3 words" then the three words listed at the bottom are: God Ramen Liam. However, they won't let you put God on there... or prayer..or anything religious affliated. So I decided against it. But, sirs and madams, I decided tonight...was the night! I went to Ghirardelli and I got the chocolte dipped waffle cone with coffee flavored ice creme. It. Was. Heavenly. Total and sheer bliss! And, to top it all off: they accept Disney gift cards, which I am in posession of thanks to my mother at Christmas. Later on, walking around in an eternal high that the soul derives from the precious chocolate consumed, we walk around and go to another candy shop. We see a place where you an make your own chocolte confections. I simply can't resist.

As you know, I've been desperately craving one of those rice krispies with chocolate on them. But there was too many delcious otions to settle for that. I eventually, after much deliberation, chose the marshallow. I'm a huge sucker for marshmallow in any form. But this way, was delightful beyond imagining. First, I had the four marshmallows dipped in dark chocolate. Then rolled into Reese's cups, and then drizzled with white chocolate. O. My. Bama. It was so good. After that, we ran into one of Dayna's fun roomates that I had already met previously. We shared some laughs with her then went back to the bus stop where we met some new Cha-cha addicted friends TJ and Kelsey. Unfortunately, we did not get their numbers so we'll probably never see them again.

Then I come home, after parting ways with Dayna, and I got to lean the mess of my roomates. Then, I discover one of them has replace my two liter (that someone had drunk out of) with a new one. Roomate comradery...nothing better. A day of love, chocolate, and Tiana. Who could ask for anything more?

Home

Finally getting a little homesick. But not too bad.

I miss the simple things. My room where the halls are decked with millions of movie posters.Sebastian, my 2004 Chrysler Sebring, and his familiar scent, and loveable grill. My family, my friends and so on.

I miss going on adventures with my friends. Once, a group of my friends dressed as the Mystery Gang from Scooby Doo. We went around random locations and acted like them and had another friend act like he was stealing something. We would bust in and stop him. I'd ask where the Scooby Snacks where (me being Shaggy) and we'd leave in a hurry. Yes, I am aware I'm cool.

I even miss television. Granted, I only religously watched three shows: 30 Rock, the Office and Glee. 30 Rock because basically I love Tina Fey and everybody loves the Office. Glee is currently off the air, but when I looked online for my other shows, i have miss three or four episodes of those shows. I have some serious catching up to do.

Work was same old. I worked from 2 to 11PM. I hd some pizza at break. If you've wasted time on reading this...I apologize.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

There are two types of little boys in this world. There’s the one who spills hot chocolate on you and there’s the one who is lost and can’t find his parents. Just keep this in mind.

I woke up at around 9 or 10AM, which is pathetic considering I used to get up t noon earliest before this trip, and decided to stay in bed awake until around 11. Once I get up, I’m rather hungry. So I go and pretty much devour what little I have left of the groceries I had. I now have about five crackers and a can of cooking spray. I had work at two, and I spend about an hour on the computer. I go to work.

It is as if every time I have a good day, a day of good thinking and introspection, the next day is doomed to be full of angst and woe. I spent the rest of the day thinking about how everything I’m finding here turns out to be a contradiction. I was starting to find that being alone makes you grow as a person. You can start handling your life the way you want to, especially for someone like me who has spent his entire life bending his life to the comfort and consideration of others. But I certainly miss human interaction though. Sure, I love the alone time and spending time with myself, but too much of it proves just how lonely I really am. It gets to a point where I feel like a sociopathic loner incapable of having successful human interaction. I used to skip meals thinking food was unimportant and I didn’t really have much of an appetite. Now I’m always stark, ravenously hungry. But being on my own also puts me in charge of my own financial situation. I’m broke. But, I’m the kind of person who likes to know that he has money so I have a very different definition of the word poor. So I’d like to eat my weight in the food here, but I’m holding back due to my monetary duties to myself. I can’t keep a solid period of happiness and until I do that I won’t be done here.

While at work, two small children interacted with me two very different ways. One boy, aiming for the trash can, but not having the arms to reach it, tried to throw away his hot chocolate. He misses and spills it on my sterling white pants. However, he is dressed as Woody (My favorite Disney character, I think, and the one I have dressed up as for Halloween all the time when I was a kid) so he was immediately forgiven. I gave him a Woody sticker and sent him on his merry way. The other kid approached me saying he had lost his parents. He’s no ordinary little boy; he’s a British little boy. I’m excited to say the least. I talk to him the entire way to find his parent’s, talking him down by conversing and joking about Disney films and talking about all the places he’s been, such as Disneyland Paris. We eventually found his parent’s and they were rather nonchalant about it, which was somewhat disappointing. But I went on with work after them, brooding over the negative thoughts of the day.

Then I realized, those two little boys epitomize my life. The boy who spilt on me…his name was Persistence and the small British boy’s name was Memory. Persistence is what my life is here, particularly today. Although life may spill hot chocolate on you sometimes, you have to forgive and forget and move on, taking into account the beauty of the situation. Memory, on the other hand, is the past. He reminds me of who I used to be, what I loved about myself, and who I can continue to be while I am changing. Memory is a lovely mirror of self-reflection. Persistence is a mirror of hopefulness of the future. So, to me, these are the two types of little boys that define my life as of now.

Work was rather boring, especially since I worked 2 to 11PM, and the negative energy wasn’t helping. The reason I worked so late was because there was a convention. In my section, of course, they were serving desserts. One that particularly caught my eye, and does so every time I see one, was the Mickey Mouse-shaped rice krispy treats covered in chocolate. I’ve wanted one for a long time, and there was a whole tray sitting there the whole night. I’m sure they don’t taste near as good as the rice krispy experiences I’ve shared at Kelsey’s house (a treat I eagerly anticipate when I arrive home, get cooking Mrs. C!), but they’re still appealing. But at the end of the night, I did end up getting some of the fruit (pineapple, melon, cantaloupe, and strawberry on a skewer). Also, I got these sweet balls. Some were chocolate with orange zest, and the other tasted like the leftover milk after eating cinnamon toast crunch. So my day got a little better right then and there. Once again, my mental well-being saved by a sweet dessert.

Get Ready for Me, Love, Cause I'm a Comer

Today was a day of self cleansing. I got to sleep in...I cannot begin to tell you how inexplicably sad it is that I can deem 10AM as sleeping in. Really, Aaron? That's the best you can do. So I haven't eaten anything of substance in about...o...since I got here and I was definetely needing some more introspection. So I get up, take a shower and decided to go to Cici's, the cheap and delictable buffet of pizza, desserts, and salad.

So Liz, my literary friend, and I head off to the place. I get a slice of spinach, a few slices of the barbeque, and, my favorite, the Macaroni and cheese pizza. Not to mention the almost whole plate of chocolate brownies and of course my diet coke. So I sit in the booth all alone and start reading with Vampire Weekend's "Mansard Roof" playing in the background. I made sure to sit by a window so I can look outside. It's a beautiul day. I go back for more (duh...) and I get about half the tray of brownies there and some more of the usual slices of pizza. Going to Cici's was one of the best ideas I've had while being down here. I had only been like dying of starvation each and every day, and was sure I was going to drop about fifty pounds while here. But I'm pretty damn sure I just put that fifty pounds back on this pizza binge. After I finish with my second, I, of course, go and take the rest of the brownies on the buffet. Also, I decided to try the dessert pizza they have. It was amazing. Warm and buttery apple filling with the zing of cinnamon crumbles baked in.

As I sit there, I get a sense of...revelation. As much as I bitch about my job, lack of life, and starvation, I really have no right to complain. Here I am in this beautiful city (I mean come on, a Heron was walking along side me on my way here) for an extended period of time and getting paid to work in a place where you can go home with fireworks going off behind you. Also, look at where I am now. I find myself taking the scenic route while walking (which is astounding in itself) to exciting adventures with myself. I'm being on my own, I'm thinking of ways to improve myself, and...I'm changing..and for the better.

There is one thing most that most fulfills this sense of change: God. I can feel the once short and thin bond growing between us. I feel more connected with Him than I ever have. I feel His prescece constantly, especially when alone. It's almost as if He is sitting there in the booth beside me as I eat alone, walking beside me when I'm traveling around the gorgeous land He created. But, for me, it's a companionship. I see Him as not only you know...creator of the universe...but my friend. Someone I'd slap five with. I hope that's not blasphemous.

After this filling, probably weeks worth of food filling, meal I go to Wal-Mart. I get a Palm Leaves and shaving creme and head to the register. The old lady behind the counter said "Ooooo! Looks like someone's having a party toight." Poor senile old woman, slaving away at the world's largest chain of supermarkets hath made her mad. I smile, then say a silent prayer for her as I leave.

I go home, and start to do landry for the first time since I've been here. It was fun for me, because I acted like Neil Patrick Harris in DR. HORRIBLE'S SING ALONG BLOG, since the laundry room is laundromat style, singing the song "Laundry Day" to some random Latina girl dong her laundry as well. She looked over at me the minute I sang to myself "Wanna say...Love your hair.." and I shifted my head down as quickly as possible. I return to home and get ready for work.

The sad part about my job, is that I don't find myself doing much thinking at all while preforming my daily tasks. I kind of smile my way through it and help guest when I need to. Thankfully, nothing when haywire today and I survived the night, although I did have to handle my first "protein spill," which is what they equate throw-up. To me, "Protein spill" sounds worse than any other synomym for throw-up. I'd prefer vomit, chuncks, or even spewage rather than protien spill. Most everybody I talk to about this says they don't apporve either because they think of protien shake. I just think of eating it as a source of protein and soon enough I have my own protien spill. Also, I had to work until 2 AM...starting at 5PM. Not the most fun thing to do especially when it's like freezing outside (wait a second! Aren't I in Orlando?!) and all I'm wearing is T-shirt.

I get a ride home from a co-worker in her kind of cool, old, beat up Mercedes Benz. When I get home, they place is completely dark and everyone is asleep. There's spaghetti with meat sauce on the stove and I scarf some down. Then, I devour my palm leaves because I saved them for when I got home so I would have something to come home to. It's kind of like the reason I'm fighting this war is so that I come home to a delicious, chocolately baked good. In any case, this place is slowly starting to feel like home. Maybe not the people quite yet, but maybe I'll come around (I've decided I'm the one with the problem because they all are living in harmony). But the constant mess I get to clean up for them, the darkness of the rooms all the time, and the very little amount of food I have stocked are all reminders that this is my new domain. This is the Ashram where I am to change my inner being, to relate it in EAT PRAY LOVE terms.

So here I am, in the dark, at 3AM and I'm just wondering...what's tomorrow got for me?

Infuriation

It's hard to write about what you did for the day when you pretty much slept, went to work all day, and come home. Except, a few things happened in between. For instace, there is a trace of a biological clock being created. I'm waking up at around 730 or so even when I don't have to. But, me being the paranoid worrywart that I am, I awake with my heart pounding through my chest thinking that I'm going to be late for work. My adventure with O G Kev truly tramatized me.

On the bus ride to work, I think of one thing. My friends. I'm almost constatly reminded of them. I'm always craing some of Courtney's, the cooking goddess, food and also Vinh's spaghetti. I almost constantly wear the jacket my dear friend Kelsey made for me, which bears my favorite number, 86, on it. My favorite band (I think...there are so many of them) U2, reminds me of Kim and Jesse, who, to me, are the definition of love. Texting any long conversation with anyone somewhat reminds me of consoling my friend Laura, whom I love dearly. And sometimes I can catch the scent of incense that oddly smells of my friend Amber's house. Ect... But these small reminders of home are comforting, but tie me down somewhat. They anchor me to who I was before this journey and are somewhat of a definition of who I used to be. I almost relied my happiness on friends. I surrounded myself with them constantly so that I wouldn't have to confront the daily problems and wants in my own life. I want so desperatlely to be a part of other's lives that sometimes I sacifice my own. But I don't want to completely forget about them. So I have decided that they are a mobile anchor. Something I can carry with me, that doesn't hinder me but helps and supports me; they give me the oppertunity to stop and slow down, when I choose. I love them all.

Work was fine...Until the end. At the beginning of my shift I go up to someone because, thanks to my expert training,I have no idea where I'm supposed to go or do. They tell me and even draw out on a map specifically where I need to go. Relieved, I go about my work, happy as a clam as I help guests go places and pin trade with all the Disney fanatics that will pounce on you if you're wearing a lanyard with Disney Pins on it. It's funny and a tad rediculous. So at the end of my shift, I finish my trash run in my area rather quickly. So, for about another half an hour, I wander around not knowing what to do since the Custodial trailer is locked and no one is around. Meanwhile, the walkie/radio/phone thingy they gave me, that they never taught me how to use, is beeping incessantly with alerts. What the hell is an alert and what do I do about it? These questions infuriate me to no end.

I finally figure out how to talk on the damn thing after another custodian calls me and asks me to do my trash run. I tell them I already have and they inform me that I need to do it again because some trash cans, clear on the other side of the park, are full. Apperantly I had been doing the wrong section the entire day. So not only do I have to do that trash run, but it hasn't been done all day. So they rush a few people to help me out, because God forbid we be like four minutes over on payroll. The managers come up to me and I inform them of the situation. After they talk to me, I feel kind of like a dumbass, that can't do a simple janitor's job. They told me that this was the second time (yesterdy there was a mix up with the bathrooms. they told me two restrooms I had to take care of and apperantly there were three others I was supposed to be doing as well) that I misread their information and it was important for me to get the right information. So, pretty sure they hate me now, I go home thoroughly bruised.

When I arrive home, I immediately make my mind's medicine...Ramen. I cook it the normal way and then I decide I need to do something with those eggs before the expire in a week. I attempt to hard-boil them with the assistance of my cooking guru Courtney. However, after following her instrutions (I think), I fail. The shells begin to crack so I assume their done. I take them out, and check one to see if it's edible. Apperantly, eggs are not incredible or edible, much to the contrary of their popular commercials. The yolk is a golden gel inside the perfectly fine egg whites. I put them in boiling water longer and check them. No dice, it's the same. Now I'm sure this wasn't Courtney's fault. How could a kid who can barely preform a janitor's duties, possibly follow instructions to boil an egg? In any case, obviously egg's and I were not meant to be on this trip together.

So I go almost instantly to bed. Infuriated...which is not good. For it is said that one should never go to bed angry. If only I had that choice.

Ears Earned? Check.

I had work at 1145. At least I thought I did. No I did. Wait...did I? Yes. I couldn't remember exactly. I was fairly certain. But it was getting late (sad that I was beginning to think 7AM is late... I really am changing), so I decided I had to get up and get on the computer and make sure. The computer takes forever to boot up which upsets me because I can feel myself becoming more and more awake the longer it takes; probably because of my long history of violence and short temper with technology. I fear I may not be able to go back to sleep. So I find that I was right and I work at 1145. Fantastic... so I go back to sleep, by the grace of God, and get some much needed R&R before work.

I do much of my thinking on the bus. Today I was thinking about my reaccuring dream about my alterntive reality of Harry Potter. The way it works, is that I live in the world of Harry Potter. But it exists in everday life. Things translate differently in this world. Like wands are screwdrivers or drumsticks, and the people in my life play the characters of Harry Potter. For instance, when I see someone far away I see the Harry Potter character, and as they come closer to me. Like, I see Ron, but as he walks towards me he becomes Vinh, my best guy friend in real life and I see Molly Weasley but it's really my Aunt Robin. Anyways, I was thinking about how much better my life would be if it were real (in case you can't tell...I'm a huge Harry Potter freak. I think Hogwarts is real...I just didn't get a letter...yeah).

Work was work. It was actually was my first day without a trainer. I've "earned my ears" so that's...good.It was fun to walk around and help guests, but the bathroom proved to still be unglamorous. I actually broke down during my lunch break and bought a piece of pizza. I was really trying to conserve money...but ah well. It was two dollars and it was huge. So I figured I was okay... It was delicous though. I enjoyed it throughly.

When I get home, I snack on crackers and such. I make plans for the raincheck trip to Wendy's with Dayna. She comes by and picks me up and we add Wal-Mart to the itenerary so I can introduce her to Palm Leaves, my Floridian esacape pastry. I don't know how she feels about it yet, but I hope she loves them as I do. We went to Wendy's and had my long awaited Frosty. It wasn't all that amazing, but satisfying enough. We talk for a while. And I go home.

Today was...

Today was... Today I had work at 10. Which would hve been really plesant if I didn't have to get up at 630 to pay O G Kev. So I did, and he thanked me and I went back to sleep, which is a miracle in itself because I have rarely been able to do that. So I get up and go to work.

Work may perhaps be a bad environment for me. No, it probably is. It' not that it's a bad job, or I absolutely hate it, but it makes me think; which is the most dangerous thing to do...give me time to think. I overthink things constantly and dwell upon things for too long. But these thoughts at work eventually lead to a series of meltdowns in which I beat myself up and question everything I do. For instance, I start thinking why I ever came down here? And why I'm allowing myself to wake up and be a janitor every day? And why I'm such a loser? And why I'm totally unsocial? I never come up with any answers, but always end up on the verge of tears. But I have to maintain myself in the prescence of the thousands of human beings that surround me my whole shift. But anyways, work ends. It always ends, and I need to keep that in mind for future meltdowns.

So I get home. And My day immediately gets better, because I call the numbr on my pay card. It's my first pay day. I was expecting like twenty dollars from the little work I did my first week. Here I get one-hundered and thirteen dollars. So I'm thinking "bitchin'!" not remebering that next week they take out double rent. So we'll see what my financial future has in store for me. When I get changed, I go out of my bedroom to find my roomies in conversation.

My roomates have to be from another planet. Or perhaps I am the one from another planet and I'm only now realizing that I don't fit in with my own species. Literally, all they do is chase every avaliable, and unavailable, girl around here and when they're not, they're talking to each other. And they try to include me in it and I always reply as awkwardly as possible, unintentionally. When one of them approach me telling me about the new girl they've slept with and I usually reply "yeah...you go...dude?..." I wouldn't have much of an issue with this if they all didn't talk about the girlfriends they're screwing over. One of my roomates has a pattern: he talks about a sex story with his girlfriend and then a sex story about some girl he met only hours before.

All this occurs while I'm cooking, if you can call it that. On my first trip to Wal-Mart, I got a thing of eggs, thinking there was a lot of options for eggs. However, the cookware here can hardly fry an egg properly. I thought the problem might have been no cooking spray so I went and got some. That wasn't it, because I tried again and I got the same egg slog I got the first time. Then I thought of an omlette. So I try and I end up with what seems to be the forgotten love-child of and omlette and scrambled eggs. It was a lump of cooked eggs. So I cook some ramen, not knowing what to do with my orphan eggs. I prepare it the usual way, except I decide the broth is too good to just pour out so I keep some in the bowl. Then I decide to rip up the eggs and mix it in the ramen soup. I add salt and pepper and a dash of garlic powder. I have created the world's oddest, but suprisingly delicious bowl of...stuff.

Afterwards, I make plans to go out for Frosties (from Wendy's) with Dayna, my Potter pal. I've been craving a forsty lately. So I wait, and I wait some more... For a few hours. One of my roomates has a girl over, suprise surprise. So I'm in my bedroom waiting for them to retire to their bedroom. So I start taking a nap. I wake up a few minutes later and Dayna says she's done with what she ways doing now and asks if I'm still up to it. I say yes, and go back to...resting my eyes, thinking she'll be a while. I sleep through her being here. I felt terrible and I apologized to her when I saw the five or so missed calls from her.

Today was average (How's that for suspense?).

The Contemporary Saints of Today: A Cabbie and My Computer Programming Roomate

I had to work at 630AM today. So you already know bad things are coming. I did not get up, as you may have very well guessed. I mean I did wake up...at 610. I was completely frazzled. The sight of me, scurrying around my room with my heart beating a million miles a minute, pulse ringing in my ear, and me encanting profanities and hopeful pleas to God, is truly an amusing thing to behold. So once I race out the door with most of what I needed, I check the bus schedule. There's one that comes at 615 to get me there by 645, but I really don't want to be late and it's already 615 and it's not there yet. In distress, I start...almost running in circles with frantic pacing. I see the cab, well, technically, the minivan with the work taxi magnetized to it. I go to him in deseration, and as Liam, and ask him how fast he can get me to Hollywood Studios. He claims ten minutes. I'm sold. But guess what I don't have. A wallet, and by wallet I mean the beat up, aquamarine blue-bordered Altoids tin holding my cards and money and everything. So I dash back to the apartment. But guess what I don't have...a key. I pound on the door with great fevor several times, the whole while pleading with my roomates to get up and open the door silently to myself. This is at 6 in the morning, mind you. So my saintly roomate, shout out to the unexplicably kind Evan (a computer programmer), opens the door rubbing his eyes. I thank him strongly. "No problem," he says confused and also as if he's going to faint from sleepiness. So I get upstairs and guess what I can't find? My wall-tin. Why? Because it's been in my pocket the whole time. I don't even have the time to be frustrated. I run back out the door.

So I get into the cab-van, and buckle up (good thing). The guy rips out of the place, much to my appreciation. He introduced himself saying that "they" called him O G; odd, because later he reveled his name to be Kevin. O G Kev drove like a madman and almost recked us about three or twelve times, knowing I was in a hurry. I wasn't complaining, in fact I was thanking God for giving me the worst cab driver ever.

We arrive at Hollywood Studios at 630 exactly. Amazed by: a) his timing and b) the fare ($20!), I pull out the tin. Guess what I don't have. Money. Granted, I had eight dollars in it, and I had left some leftover cash back at the apartment. I told him. He was shocked...no, mortified. I asked if I could pay him back some other time...no, pleaded. He took the eight dollars and got my contact inforomation. It was entirely too kind of him to not haul my sorry ass back where it belonged. I was so fortunate. Sorry, God. I meant to thank you for the best cab driver ever. I get out of the vehicle, after apologizing what had to be like a million times, and run off to work.

Now let me tell you about this run. I'm wearing cheapish cardboard dress shoes with sock that go about half way up the bottom of my foot because I picked a pair in a hurry. So as I run, the back of the shoe is tearing at the back of my heel/ankle (but they're Dr. Scholl's so I guess I'm gellin' as the blood trickles down my Achelies Heel). It sucks, but I just pretend it's not happening. Because if I don't act like I feel it, it's not real... I have the naviety of a two year old you'll soon realize. I actually clock in at 634, an amazing feat in my mind.

Work was fine, but a little boring. However, the shoes continue to rub up against the gash in my ankle and bloo seeps through the little amount of sock that is there. We actually sat around a lot of the time in the break room. I spent this time contemplating my humiliation and having a great time beating myself up with the audio of soap operas blaring in the background. I start thinking of the numerous ways in which to punish myself, and there was me again to back me up. "Ugh, we've been through this already. I thought you already discovered me, stupid...I mean...beautiful person... Okay, to reiterate, forgive yourself. Look, you were late and nothing happened. So you in debt to a cabbie. So what? He'll come around, what's he going to do? Refuse your money and punch you in the face? No. Calmarsi, ragazzo pazzo!...Be Te Dub, I love you. Catch ya later."

So work ends, and I get off the bus. I need to go to Wal-mart to get his money. Why? Because Wal-Mart is a magical gift from the Heavens, sent to give me the very air of joy(and heartache, poverty, and pain to small business owners, whom I send my sincerest condolances and apologizes). I text the cabbie to find out what ardous back alley meeting is going to have to go down in order to get this over and done with. He tells me no worries and that he'll be there same time tomorrow. Which, unfortunately, means I have to wake up at 630 to pay him even though I have work at 10 for once. But I guess that's karma. I suppose the world is just.

I wander around the store since I'm there, and I decide to give myself a treat since I've only been dying to have one since I got here. And what better place to get one, then at Wal-Mart. As I cross the bakery section, I see palm leaves and I get one. No, not the leaes from a tree, but a baked good. It's like a heart-shaped (I know, I don't get it either) crossiant with chocolate icing. Due to the name, I figure it's probably a Floridian delicacy. Probably not, but I'm not one to pass up an excuse to get a delicious-looking baked good (It's awesome. It will be a regular staple in my diet. Special trips will be made). My depreived sweet-tooth has been limited to a single roll of sugar cookie dough and put in exile otherwise and I will have no more of it.

After the store, I help a girl take her groceries back to her apartment and then go to Amanda's to chat for a bit with her and her roomates. I was illin' for some Frosty action from Wendy's, but I rememebered I had my palm leaves at home. Pause. I just overheard my roomates talking about how they're not big fans of the TV show Friends, but they love Frasier. I knew there was some deep underlying cause for not connecting with them.

So I've decided that no matter how horribly shitty a day can start, you can always turn it around. Because now I'm in a good mood and ready for tomorrow. Thanks to baked goods, random life blunders, and the everyday saints that God placed on the Earth.

Liam, Liz, and Life

I awoke at 635AM to get to work by 8. What awaits me? Cleaning bathrooms for about eight hours straight. I'm not going to respond postively or negatively about this, just state it as a fact. I didnt know what to do. I got to thinking about why I ever did this in the first place, and I was on the verge of breaking down (I'm a total spazz when it comes to my over reactive emotions). But let's fastforward a bit shall we, because this day does have a happy ending.

I get home at a loss of what I'm going to do with myself. During my meltdown, I thought of the serious Ramen that was going to go down once I got home. But I really wanted to go to some resturant that was new and delicious. Problem was, I didn't really have anyone to go with. I mean, I could have asked people to go, but I wasn't in the mood to drag anyone else into my misery, although I hear it does like company. So I decide the hell with it! I'm going alone.

So I did something I've never done before, but have always wanted to. Go to dinner by myself. The problem is...I'm probably the worst person to take to dinner without a plan. So, I take Liz with me. I couldn't fathom what sitting there in silence with nothing to do would have done to my soul and image; you know, because I have such a high reputation to uphold here... Anyways, so I take off, as Liam, with my copy of EAT PRAY LOVE. I head past Downtown (because Downtown is kind of a place where after you go a few times, it gets old real fast, with the exception of Ghirardelli of course), to the next stop the bus takes after. The location is a quaint little plaza with many resturants and shops. I wander up and down looking at my options. I'm horribly indecisive, as all close to me well understand. I actually take the time to walk way down the busy street to discover even more options. I'm in eating options hell.

As I walk, the most amazing thing happens. There's something uniquely...freeing? No...relaxing? Yes, and no...contented, about wandering around a city by yourself. As I walk, I don't know how to describe it, but it was as if I was breathing for the first time in my life. I could feel the air in my lungs fill and exhale. I'm smiling the whole time due to some odd, random giddy senstion of speninding the time to get to know myself, much like being on a first date. I was listening to my zune, and it kept giving me old, classic, feel-good, pump through you classic rock like Kiss, Poison, and Bruce Springsteen, as if comanding me to have a good time. So I'm rockin' out in these empty parking lots I'm crossing through, and I get to the other side of the...city. I look at some of my options and they're rather boring. So I head all the way back to the plaza. The invirgoation of classic rock and walking against traffic at night (on the sidewalk of course, I'm not that cool) sweeps through me as I dance down the busy route.

When I get close to the plaza, a slower song comes on, though oddly enough, classic rock. It's the song "Amazing" by Aerosmith. I start thinking of all the struggles and tripumphs I have while down here and I slowly step onto the plaza. The plaza is line with lots of small little fountains. Now I'm not one to pass up a corny movie montage moment so I kind of start running along with this song down the plaza, pass the fountains. As I come up to the main one, the one that has like a programed show in it, the song builds up to this cresendo and then pauses and starts again. The fountain, perfectly timed, stops and starts again with the music. Beautiful! I feel a sense of self, also a sense of God. And as I listen to the lyrics of this song, it's basically my theme song for this trip. No, it completely and utterly is.

So now I'm totally elatedand ready to eat. There was an Indian cuisine place that I thought would be a perfect backdrop to my reading of Liz's travels through India and I'd love to try something new. I walk in and the place is absolutely empty, tho it smelled (odd to the untrained, non-foodie, not that I've earned my status as a foodie yet, nose) kind of wonderful. A beautiful Indian woman greets me and I ask for a menu and survey it. It's rather costly, and I doubt they give discounts. Also, I'm in the mood for Mexican (particularly chips and salsa, my favorite food) and there's convientantly a resturant right across from it. So after I go there, I realize I had left my book at the Indian place so I travel (it's definitely a trip) back and then back again.

Okay so once I get there, I sit down. Again, my horrible indecisiveness gets the better of me...But hey, it's not my fault...there menu's too big. So I scan over the menu. It takes me forever to decide. Literally...I think the waitress was starting to get a little cheesed off. I was thinking of getting a kid's meal, which I often do and am constantly ridiculed for by my friends. The truth is two-fold. I do so because: a) I'm a jew (partialy literally, and in the racist sense) b) I have a rather small stomach ever since I lost a bunch of weight due to my bulemia, crack, pilates, and self-induced vomitting...I jest... it was diet and excercise. After the waitress comes again, I decide to just pick.

Dinner was scrum-diddily-umptous! First off, the salsa was some kind of black veggie salsa that was sweet and peppery. They're Splenda (how dare you use any other type of artificial sweetner!) was particularly swell as well. Now for dinner, I had Chicken Mole Enchiladas which are filled with garlic, onion, and savory, with salsa chicken covered in melted jack cheeses and the whole thing topped with a chipotle cream sauce. The sides were corn tomatillo that was sweet and spongy, and mouth-watering red rice. Also, there were refried beans, but taken to a whole new level by adding tiny, small crumbles of blue cheese to the top. Seriously, in the words of Julie Powell on braised cucumbers, "a fucking revelation!" (Since when did this become a food critic's blog...I'm so pretencious, and unrightfully so, when it comes to food and I'm not even good at being it).

Now, if you've never gone to dinner by yourself I challange and encourage you to do so. It's incredible, at least for me. I found a serenity within myself even in the noisiest resturant I think I've ever been in. It's also fun (when I took a break from my very enjoyable reading I did so) to people watch, though I was mostly doing this just to be sure I wasn't being humilated. Of course I was, but for some reason I didn't care. I got the random sniggers, and the occasional person informing their table that I, the one they were pointing directly at, was eating alone. But I didn't care. I was in a delightful mood, with good food and a good book, God, and me as company.

I left with another whole meal of leftovers in a take home box, scoring tomorrows dinner. I get on the bus and keep reading in a brooding type manner. When I arrive home I have the sheer satisfaction to get to clean my roomate's huge mess. This isn't a bad thing. I have a cleaning problem. I love doing it. Yesterday at Amanda's, I had the most powerful urge to do her sinkful of dishes. At all my friend's homes, I request or insist I do the dishes because out of the weird easure I get from it. So hopefully this will win over my roomies and I make out with a good time of cleaning while listening to "Dancing in the Dark" by Bruce Springsteen (and yes I left the lights off to add...hey, Shut up! Don't judge...)

It was raining all day too, as I walked around the park cleaning. But thanks to Liam, Liz, and...Life, I made out pretty good. Listen here world...Don't send around a cloud to rain on my parade.

If I were Snow White, I'd Bond with Only One Dwarf: Sleepy.

So with a shot of caffine (Diet Dr. Pepper), I muster up the energy to make a post tonight before I head off to bed. I'm so dreadfully tired, and not for any particular reason. Today was...uneventful. I woke up at 830, hoping to get to go to Animal Kingdom today. I've wanted to go for a long time. It's raining, again. Normally, I'd be perfectly okay with this, with my love of Seattle-esque weather (I've always wanted to visit the hazy city) and all, but it's putting a stoper in some of my loosely based plans. So I meander around the apartment for a while as I contemplate on how to spend my day. Amanda invites me to go to Hollywood Studios and I go.

As we walk around the park, I become more and more tired. We ride some fairly fun rides, and have some fun on that part. But after a few hours, we leave. When we get to her apartment with her crazy, delightful, and full of life Puerto Rican roomates. We have Digorno (Just to be clear, it was not delivery, it as Digorno) pizza, which I had not experienced it's sheer awesomeness until a few weeks before I left for here. That pie is delizioso. So we start playing war, the card game. We declared each other winners in the end...we're pretty hardcore. Then we all went downtown. I was so excited for one thing and one thing only...Ghiradelli!

I don't think I can properly xplain to you my relationship ith chocolate. I don't think I've ever loved anything the way I love it. Just the simple, elegant, and sweet aroma of it's captivating awe can draw me away from anything. I go to Ghiradelli each time I venture out to Downtown, and I can solemly swear that it makes my day each and everytime.

As we hop on the bus home, I hear the foreign accents around the bus. I deserately want to raise my children in a different country. A place where they can learn a different language than English, or at least have a more attractive accent. This is impossible in the cultureless melting pot that is the American public. I can hardly stand the idea of my son being just another white boy leading a normal existance without cultural well-roundedness.

It's been breif, but it's been real. I'm extraordinarily tired, and it feels as tho my mind is literally melting inside of my skull. More to come, my bleaders, more to come...(I am such an ellipses whore)... ... ... ...