Kitty Power

Once Upon A Time (Perhaps Last Week)

Once upon a time (perhaps last week), I was crazily bent out of shape over some garbage. Then again, when am I not bent out of shape? I was a wreck in May, June, July, August...it's par for the course around here. So what I crossed out some text in my posts and it was hard to read or something? I could sum up all of that for you pretty easily: "blah blah I need to stop liking bad boys blah blah and while I'm at it, I need to stop being crazy blah blah it sucks to me blah blah I want a relationship...oh, wait I don't blah blah I like feeling sorry for myself blah blah I need to shut the fuck up because this whiny crap is really annoying blah blah." I blame it on those pesky hormones. This week, however, I think if I was any more chilled out, you'd swear I'm high on the regular. I'm not, natch. Strangely, getting tortured by a 4-year old and holing myself in a basement on DSL did wonders for my disposition.

Sunday, I made the Wes visit I've been putting off for about a month. We went there all guerilla style and I went to the office and gathered up my stuff. It was totally bittersweet -- downloading pics (though crackhead I am, I forgot most of what I wanted. Ugh...brains. So underrated Nevermind. I did get it.), straightening up, erasing my chalkboard, throwing things out, talking to P. Diddy (or for the cuteness factor) on the phone like I had done so much of the spring and summer. And then I gathered up this crap I had borrowed from a professor back in April that I had left sitting around in the office all summer (oops!) and trekked to PAC. I ran into a few people I knew, dropped in the mail box and I was done. I can't describe how it felt. I never have to go back. Never if I don't want to. I feel fucking amazing. Sunday felt better than graduation for my soul -- plus I didn't get choked up like a baby this time. Freedom is a beautiful thing. And the yearbook is getting shipped out in a little under 2 weeks. I should plan a viewing party since most of my friends are wack and didn't buy one. *ahem* The best part is that I've moved on so much mentally that I don't give a fuck if it's wack. Not that it will. And of course, I say that now but I'll be nitpicking on that bitch for the next 20 years. Watch.

It's nice to be settled for a change. Now my only pursuits are dancing to southern booty music for the cats ("Get low, get low, get low, get low"), mentally counting my money and thinking of the crazy adventures that are going to make the fall bananas. And being happy that I have friends in high places as well as mid-range fun ones. I've also reversed my position on what I did last week. Is it just me or is the crop shaping up nicely lately? I've changed my gallery age range, so that might have something to do with it. Something about the 23s and the 26s spicing up the playing field.

Finally...Celebration Time!

I am done. Finished. I have conquered the yearbook! And I didn't have a nervous breakdown! Woo hoo!

So, I didn't sleep at all last night and I'm considering not even trying because I want to be on the bus out of this place at 10:40. I'm going to be super zombie today in New York but who gives a fuck because I don't have to leave there again!

I actually like the book again. The beginning section's kinda touch and go because that's before I got the hang of PageMaker and when the Devil Mac was only beginning to show what it was capable of. But, the rest of it -- especially the senior section and my personal spin on Wes arts, politics and events -- I have to say is pretty awesome. A totally original design. I was really on when I came up with that.

I'm considering making one more trip back (yeah, I know...that blows. But, there's something to be said for coming here without the deadline stress on my mind) to clean up my office and finally send those pictures back to people. What I really want to just go around the room with a big trash bag and throw all this shit out. Goodbye graduating seniors list! Sayonara clubs! Ciao layout and proof guides! If I wasn't so exhausted and still having to print and package up all this shit for the mailman, I'd do it now.

This is pretty sweet though. If I wasn't going to feel like shit later on and didn't have my job interview bright early tomorrow morning, I'd go out tonight and booze it up and dance the likes of which NYC has never seen. I need to celebrate this shit. I don't think anyone could possibly comprehend what a fucking massive life-eating project this book has been. Especially since I've done about 90% of the work all alone when I could've been studying, working or just unwinding because as the most high strung person I (and I'm sure my friends also) know, when I don't get my destress time, I'm the biggest craziest bitch of the East no doubt. I won't go as far and say that the book ruined my spring semester, but pretty fucking close. But who cares? I made it through and only had to talk to the school shrink about it once -- but that doesn't even count since most of that time was spent talking about what a dick my housemate was. And I didn't even have a panic attack, so I'm ahead of my directorial episode sophomore year. *shudder* Now that was an episode. So, it's all good. My summer starts today. I'm so excited!

A New Day

Blah at the last post. No sleep + frustration = cranky Candicissima.

I'm experimenting with this strange and new concept: work first, procrastinate later. I'll let you know how it goes. I figure I started off the day with ATWT, so the least I can do is actually do some work in a nice timely manner.

In other news, the last proof came this morning. Somebody up there loves me today.

Aurgh

I can't believe I've been up here 5 days. I don't think I've really accomplished much until now besides taking the proofs out of the envelope, glancing at them, throwing them on the desk, forgetting about them while I surfed the net, looking at them and marking them up for 5 minutes, then putting them back on the desk, downloading mp3s and going to the mall. My only consolation is that I haven't spent a lot of money for a change.

I've also decided I hate the book...or rather, all the proof corrections I've done before. It sucks. Shit's not lined up, it looks bad, I'm just annoyed. Am I going to stop the printing process to do it over? No. Especially since the publishers can't get their shit together long enough to not lose my shit. I think a good 45% of the stuff I've sent has been either lost in their possession or corrupted by this devil Mac. I've gotten a headache by trying to do a whole bunch of shit, so I can go home later today. And I don't think that's happening. *sigh*

To add joy onto my shit mood, I think there's one proof they forgot to send. You know what that means? No? Well, let me tell you: one more trip back here. Fuck. In retrospect, what the hell was I thinking when I signed up for this? Oh yeah, I remember: I need a project to distract me from putting my attentions away towards Hawaii and I like publishing type stuff, so how bad can it be? Famous last words. I'm a notoriously bad judge of workloads and I don't handle stress well, so I definitely should've known better.

Ah well. Too late to complain about it now. I can cap off my horrendous demoralizing year with a book that didn't kill me no matter how rough patches were. This project parallels my Wes experience of soul-crushing despair, exhilarating successes, mind-numbing banality and precious jewels strewn among the waste. At the end, it'll just be done and I earned it -- though my effort throughout varied and it shows. As I did various times for the past four years, this is an occasion to suck it up and deal because the sooner I stop fucking around, the sooner I can walk away. Perhaps after a nap though.

Status

Every original piece of the book has been laid out and sent to the printer. *whew* This has been a hellish past 7 months. Naturally, it's not over. I have about another 3 or days of proof correcting to do (which means one more trip to Middletown), but the hardest part is over. I have worked like a dog on this for way too long and I've been very unhappy that it's eaten a good third of my summer too. I feel good though. I'm going home, where tonight in honor of this accomplishment I'm going to have a big strong drink...or six. Goodbye, Middletown! Hello, The City That Never Sleeps!

Odds and Ends

Friendster's becoming a bit unbearable. A Wes person is always only a friend of a friend away. Still, I have run into people I actually like and are in NYC, adding to my offline hanging out list. Nothing wrong with that.

I woke up this morning suffocating and feeling like I was being burned alive, but more importantly thinking that I need more friends my age. 22 is a strange age to be, mostly because it's BLOWN so far. In retrospect, I enjoyed the hell out 21 because that age gives you license and an excuse to go stupid wild -- though the freedom cliche had the least do with why that year was a very good one. At 22, I'm finally out of school (for the time being) for the first time in like 18 years, kicking this independence thing up a notch, and trying (but failing miserably so far) to be a genuine Adult. The last thing I need is to be patronized or be viewed like that bouncy little puppy because I don't do puppy. Kittenish perhaps but only in moderation. 22 is "you better be marching towards responsibility, punk, and liking it." I don't know if that has anything to do with hanging out with "older" folks really, but the inevitable "just wait a few years and you'll understand" shit even from folks who have me by a year or two boils my freaking blood. I'm insecure about being young party favor as strange as that sounds. I dunno. There is no real conclusion or points to this argument. That was just on my mind.

In other news, it's time to start weaning myself away from blogging. I'm feeling anxious that my Boys Superpost is getting pushed onto the next page because I want comments on it but it hasn't really happened yet like I want. I've got just a teeny bit of an obsessive personality. If you couldn't tell already.

I need a digital camera (or at least a way to post my semester's worth of cool pics from this pesky Mac). I'm seriously considering housing the yearbook camera. She and I were inseperable for a while there. I can work her like a pro. We have a deep bond and she's made it clear that she feels she belongs in NYC with me and not hanging out in a drawer in Middletown. And that the thought of me palming some other spanking new bitch isn't something that makes her happy. We're in negotiation.

ETA: A little sad (for him) but hilarious.

*sigh*

*sigh* I fell off the motivation train.

I started off so well today. I woke up from this really bizarre dream involving a prof and stuff I'd rather not talking about with the thought in my head, "it's sure a nice Thursday. FUCK! It's Thursday? 12:30pm on Thursday! I have 32 pages to lay out before 7! Ack!" I didn't know I could shower and run up a hill so fast.

I was such a good girl until about 3:30 when I got hungry. Corrected my proofs and finally finished correcting this other set of 16 before running off to the "deli" for a sandwich and assorted other teeth rotting things. Almost an hour later, I'm still working on the sandwich and just snapped out of the blog surfing procrastination. I suck. But, at least I'm not melting today. Have to give myself props where I can.

Oy

The temperature sign on the bank we drove past said 99 degrees F. I'm suffocating.

NYC Bound

I'm off to NYC through the weekend. The book is driving me mad, the weather up here sucks, plus I've run out of clean clothes. Eek!

My dear KT asked why I don't just force myself to stay up here until I'm done being that there's only 30something pages -- minus proofing and administrative shit standing between me and completion. Because being up here sucks and I just don't want to. If you spent any time in Middletown, you'd totally understand. Besides, in 3 weeks, I have laid out by myself a grand total of 64 pages, proofed 96, and alternately starved and went without sleep for a book I'm not even getting paid for. I'll skip town whenever I want.

Grr

I'm so irritated and sleep-deprived that I had succumbed to cursing out an inanimate object. Then again, it's thinking...I swear, the office computer knows how to wait for the time when I'm feeling remotely confident and secure in the work going according to plan before it starts fucking with me. Even the publisher rep who deals with this stuff all the time wanted to throw it out the window. After 2 hours of hardly getting anywhere, he said: "when this is over, we'll have to go out and get a big drink." Word.

English Major Hell

Currently driving me insane:

In a piece of the book that's been at the printers for a while, there's this line that says "blah blah pleasure to be amongst you." Isn't that wrong? Shouldn't it be "among?" It's been eating at me all week. Where's a freaking grammar reference guide when a kid really needs one?

Refreshed

Ah...feel a lot of better. Mmmm...cherry pie for breakfast. The kid in me is thrilled.

I think the problem with the book thing is that the hassles are outweighing the pros about now. I graduated almost 3 weeks ago yet here I am, still working on this. I'm working alone which sucks my invisible nuts and there's so many little tasks that make up this work. I'm Stressed! majorly on the regular and being up here never fails to make me feel trapped. Doing this ruined my senior year and spring semester in ways that I can't even comprehend right now because I'm still caught up in everything. On the pro side, this really is my book. For all intents and purposes, it's Candice and Friends 2003 with guest appearances by other members of my class. Heh. That's been pretty fun. I've definitely thrown some questionable stuff in there just to mess with people, omitted folks because I could and put others in just so I can have a visual reference to jog a story down the road. This book is my baby. I feel it's an appropriate metaphor since I've sacrificed a lot to help this fucker grow and develop and no one'll be happier than me in September/October when it can go out and stand on its own...or something. And I have a feeling having this project behind me is gonna help a lot on the job front...a girl can dream, eh?

I'm in a serious diva song mood today. Since the shower, I've been internally jamming to Club 69, "I Look Good." "They love me, they hate me/But they all say, I look good." Sing it, girl! All I need now is to hear "Frank Sinatra" and it would be the perfect day. I have to go home today! Thinking about those songs has me in a serious house mood. I think I'll go to a big club for a switch this weekend. I've been wanting to tackle Centro-Fly for a min, though trying to go to a known tourist trap on a weekend night is asking for my head to explode. Ah well. We'll see how it all plays out later.

*sigh*

Last night was one of those weird nights where it takes so long to get stuff done that it felt almost unproductive. I spent most of it awake sitting here at the desk -- minus the two hours when my exhausted ass was passed in the fetal position on a couch in one of the rooms across the hall. I'm shit tired, my head hurts and I've apparently lost all ability to spell. And it's still fucking raining. Ugh.

I'm going home today regardless. I need a shower and maybe some coffee, then I'll do what I can before running out of town.

Random Snatches of Thoughts on A Thursday Morning

Motherfucker! It's raining!...Jesus, was that country music they had on in Neon? This town goes to hell when Wes kids are gone...Did I really come all the way over here when Marco's is so much closer to my office? Hungry people make no sense. I need to stop starving myself so I can get my brains back...Oh shit, I've got a cup of coffee. I mean business today!..."A-T-L nigga, Shawty/Pimpin's how I put it down/Grindin' hard everyday, Chevys ride through ya town/23's on the truck, Ask me if I give a fuck"...Hmm...that's pretty cheap for one bedroom in Clinton Hill...No email? That's wack. Maybe I'll write some...They really must've stood Christina on a box to make her anywhere near Justin's height and her hair looks like horrible Halloween wig...helloo, Mr. Timberlake! He might be a little on the skinny side (I see more rib cage than washboard), but that's damned fine. I need to go back to NYC post haste...Hmm...that's a little expensive for my poor ass, but definitely cute. I can find something close enough at H&M, I'm sure...Okay, I need to stop bullshitting for real.

Yo ho ho, and a Bottle of Rum...

Did my last post come up 3 times or is this office Mac just possessed like I always imagined it was? (ETA: Yeah, it was actually there multiple times. That was an accident from last night. I deleted it but forgot to republish. Oops. Blogger is so complicated sometimes. Well, not really. I just forgot.)

So, last night...I didn't do any work. I did go hang with P. Diddy for the first time since the night before Graduation when he saved my ass by finding someone with an extra cap and gown. (Oh, I never told that story? I'll get around to it. Typical Candice. Believe me.) He and a couple of other people I like -- a few of whom are making the NYC exodus in a few months -- sat around, drank, talked gossip, and all that good stuff. I was wonderfully happy at 1am (in my defense, we started about 9) when I trotted back to my friends' place and watched a bit of a movie before going to bed.

I even dragged my carcass out of bed at 7:15 -- a major feat for me, definitely. Today is super work day. I have two empty sigs (sets of 16 pages), one that is 4 pages from being done and two to edit and print standing between me and tomorrow when I get the fuck out of Middletown...at least until the proofs come back. I'm so close to being gone for good, I can almost see it. Though, it is somewhat comforting to know that a good chunk of my class is up here in limbo before heading to NYC or wherever. Damn school has us and won't let go! At least we can party like it's Senior Week for a little while longer. I should take some more pictures. Who'd know the difference?

Escape

I have been liberated from Middletown.

I did about 60 pages to cover for what was lost and set the next deadline for the 16th and escaped. I haven't had time off in who knows when. Winter break, spring break, and the days since graduation have been totally consumed with this freaking book. I need a break, so I'm back in NYC. I've been strolling around for just under a day and I'm feeling so much better already. I'm planning on sticking around for a week or so, watching soaps, listening to music, sitting around the house like shlub all day, shopping, dancing up an storm for my nights, seeing friends, generally chilling the fuck out. All work and no play makes Candicissima stupendously miserable.

Here's to some minor debauchery and major relaxation...at least until next week when I go back to finish everything off.

Aurgh!

The grand total of damage is creeping past 50 pages. That stupid Mac just ate what I've spent all night doing. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? It's official...I really am never getting out of here.

Please Excuse Exploding Head

Holy fucking christ...the stupid computer just ate 25 pages of layout. Somebody up there must really hate me...

My life...

My life consists of cursing a G4, night owl behavior, too many pics, cold pizza, soda, and tired eyes from eyeing a monitor for upwards of 12 hours a day. Am I compressing all my college years into a freaking week or something? Geez...

Natch, me being me, that "I'll be out of here by Friday" turned into "Monday, I'm leaving, I guess." I WILL finish this book because shit, I'm just sick of being here and I want something to show for this extra week of torture for posterity. It definitely sucks though. No doubt about that.

Bottoming Out

I don't feel especially head in the clouds this week. The book is just...annoying. I suppose this can be blamed on -- besides the obvious: taking this freaking project on -- not planning ahead as I should've. Then again, when was I supposed to do that? I guess while I wasn't working in between feeling depressed and cheering up. Umm...not really.

Adding to my fun is this month's stroll down memory lane being "All Ex, All The Time." I need to get over it already. It's been 6 months. I hate it when I'm suddenly blindsided (again) with the bitterness that as he's frolicking in the tropics with his jailbait rebound (though being that they've been together since we've broken up, she's not technically. A rebound, that is. She is indeed barely, if even, 18.), I'm pining, alone, and miserable more often than not. I can't even take any consolation in having walked away from him because though I felt like I was heading to some sort of breakdown with the combination of him being so ridiculously far and all the general crap going on here, the last thing I am is satisfied. I can't even imagine thinking of simply finding a replacement. The whole episode has turned me so far off to the concept of relationships, being emotionally open, or just being out there. But, I want to. The stupid episode from earlier in the semester was my tentative reentry into the dating world -- besides my January fit of debauchery, but that's a totally different story for a real site post perhaps. The thing with that kid was that I could never be sure if I really liked him. I even I confused myself on that matter. I just loved the attention and having someone crazy over me for a change and the fact he was shit hot and the grapevine fallout was like a constant ego boost didn't hurt. But then, wackness. I totally let my ego get too wrapped up in him because when everything went sour and stupid, I lashed out in a big way. I was mad pissed off that I was going to be cast aside it was with someone that isn't really that cute and besides that, has been passed around more times than a dollar bill. (Why yes, I am a bitch. Thanks for asking.) Seeing them near constantly and him still sniffing around like a pathetic dog was like salt in my wounds.

Aurgh...I need to stop dwelling. I won't see them again -- if I'm lucky -- besides reunions. Though she is moving to NYC. I do actually know how to avoid Wes people, but fate might bring us together out of spite. The ex and I have most of the continent plus a chunk of the Pacific between us. Deep in my heart, I know he's not worth the angst. He's immature and full of macho bullshit which is why I broke up with him in the first place. I went to Iowa for him. I've been tortured enough. It's time for more work and less drama. Once I go back to NYC, I have a clean slate. I always thrive at home.

Life Quiz

Live life to the fullest, you say. At your heart you are a hedonist with a great imagination and verve for life. Be careful of using this enthusiasm as an excuse to ignore the unpleasant. Your selective focus could cause blindness.

About 36 more hours...

About 36 more hours until I'm supposed to be out of Middletown for good yet around 60 more pages to layout. *sigh* Am I ever going to make it out of this place?

*grumble, grumble*

Stupid comments not working...*grumble, grumble*

Tonight is one of those nights where I was hit with a wave of inspiration. That in itself is a good thing, but the yearbook office Mac never is. *sigh* I think I've laid out only about 8 pages in 6 hours. That's fucking weak. And I have only about 80 to go before Friday. Kill...me...now.