About Me
- Name: Carrie
- Location: Denver, CO, United States
Unemployed and loving it! Every great ride has to come to and end and I need to figure out what to do when I get off this Ferris Wheel.
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A playground for my inner Ralph Wiggum.
Wednesday, March 24
"Ow, my face is on fire!"
Who are you and what have you done with my self? I need some answers. There have been some interesting goings on in the life of one Caroline Davis lately and it has me wondering if I am just being dramatic or if things really have gone bizzaro! My immediate impulse is to begin a list... but wait! I think that this post heralds something different, something... new. I shall make a pie chart, NO! a flow chart, yes... and it will be the greatest flow chart THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN!!! MWAAHAHAHAH!! AAHAHA..HA haha...ha. Whoa, that was weak. Maybe a flow chart isn't the best idea, I think I'll just stick with the list, it really has worked well for me in the past... good old list.
Exhibit A:90% of the people I know who were always single, well pretty much single if you don't count the um, "friendships" (wink wink nudge nudge) that many of them engaged in, are now in deep committed relationships. Looking back, just a little over a year ago, NONE of my girlfriends had a serious boyfriend. Now I can only think of two who aren't currently attached. I don't know what this really has to do with anything in particular, but it does strike me as odd that everyone seems to be finding somebody. Maybe its just another clue that yes, I am getting old.
Exhibit B: Last weekend my sister and I had the opportunity to be models. If that isn't a sign that the end times are coming, I don't know what is. Granted, it was just for one day, for a hair show, and we didn't get paid... but I still felt extremely weird doing all that glamorous* model stuff.
*By "glamorous" I actually mean "shitty" seeing as how being a model just means that you have to wear tons of make up, wear a tacky costume, get your hair dyed a freakish color (see next exhibit), and spend hours sitting around starving in a cold room with other models(who are used to starving) while you wait to go on stage.
Exhibit C: For my modeling debut in the aforementioned hair show, the flaming diva of a hairdresser, excuse me, Hair Colour Design Expert , decided that he was going to transform me into a redhead with some brown low-lights. I was excited to try something new, but I was still a bit scared to let go of my blonde locks. I should have been fucking terrified. The end result was a hair color that made me look as though I was the ill-fated love child of Ronald McDonald and Elvira. My hair was flaming red with blackish brown streaks. I will admit that my first impression was that I liked it, but I soon became less thrilled when the reality of the hair set in. I just don't know if I'm cut out to be a hip, edgy redhead. I feel as though I need to join a Goth rock group or get some facial piercings in order to pull off this hair color. So far people's reactions to my hair have been very positive (with the exception of my father who let out a terrified shriek, not unlike that of Homer Simpson, when he first saw my hair) and that has really helped me not want to burst into tears as much when I see myself in the mirror.
Exhibit D: An intangible, unexplainable, unidentifiable feeling that my life has changed in some way that makes me feel... odd. Ever since I got back from Mexico I feel like something is different, as if while I was gone the planets shifted ever so slightly; just enough to cause the area around Indianapolis, IN to feel really... wacky. Maybe it is because of Exhibits A through C, but I really think something else is going on that I just can't put my finger on. Hmmm.... another blog post with a long list of boring things about my life with no real conclusion or coherency whatsoever... at least some things never change.
Kick your own ass if you miss the next intriguing episode:
"Ch-Ch-Changes" or "Girl Gone Wild?"
Who are you and what have you done with my self? I need some answers. There have been some interesting goings on in the life of one Caroline Davis lately and it has me wondering if I am just being dramatic or if things really have gone bizzaro! My immediate impulse is to begin a list... but wait! I think that this post heralds something different, something... new. I shall make a pie chart, NO! a flow chart, yes... and it will be the greatest flow chart THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN!!! MWAAHAHAHAH!! AAHAHA..HA haha...ha. Whoa, that was weak. Maybe a flow chart isn't the best idea, I think I'll just stick with the list, it really has worked well for me in the past... good old list.
Exhibit A:90% of the people I know who were always single, well pretty much single if you don't count the um, "friendships" (wink wink nudge nudge) that many of them engaged in, are now in deep committed relationships. Looking back, just a little over a year ago, NONE of my girlfriends had a serious boyfriend. Now I can only think of two who aren't currently attached. I don't know what this really has to do with anything in particular, but it does strike me as odd that everyone seems to be finding somebody. Maybe its just another clue that yes, I am getting old.
Exhibit B: Last weekend my sister and I had the opportunity to be models. If that isn't a sign that the end times are coming, I don't know what is. Granted, it was just for one day, for a hair show, and we didn't get paid... but I still felt extremely weird doing all that glamorous* model stuff.
*By "glamorous" I actually mean "shitty" seeing as how being a model just means that you have to wear tons of make up, wear a tacky costume, get your hair dyed a freakish color (see next exhibit), and spend hours sitting around starving in a cold room with other models(who are used to starving) while you wait to go on stage.
Exhibit C: For my modeling debut in the aforementioned hair show, the flaming diva of a hairdresser, excuse me, Hair Colour Design Expert , decided that he was going to transform me into a redhead with some brown low-lights. I was excited to try something new, but I was still a bit scared to let go of my blonde locks. I should have been fucking terrified. The end result was a hair color that made me look as though I was the ill-fated love child of Ronald McDonald and Elvira. My hair was flaming red with blackish brown streaks. I will admit that my first impression was that I liked it, but I soon became less thrilled when the reality of the hair set in. I just don't know if I'm cut out to be a hip, edgy redhead. I feel as though I need to join a Goth rock group or get some facial piercings in order to pull off this hair color. So far people's reactions to my hair have been very positive (with the exception of my father who let out a terrified shriek, not unlike that of Homer Simpson, when he first saw my hair) and that has really helped me not want to burst into tears as much when I see myself in the mirror.
Exhibit D: An intangible, unexplainable, unidentifiable feeling that my life has changed in some way that makes me feel... odd. Ever since I got back from Mexico I feel like something is different, as if while I was gone the planets shifted ever so slightly; just enough to cause the area around Indianapolis, IN to feel really... wacky. Maybe it is because of Exhibits A through C, but I really think something else is going on that I just can't put my finger on. Hmmm.... another blog post with a long list of boring things about my life with no real conclusion or coherency whatsoever... at least some things never change.
Kick your own ass if you miss the next intriguing episode:
"Ch-Ch-Changes" or "Girl Gone Wild?"
Tuesday, March 9
"This is my sandbox. I'm not allowed to go in the deep end."
Since it does seem standard policy to at some point in time use song lyrics in your blog, I figured this would be the perfect opportunity.
In a perfect world this blog would have a soundtrack provided by The Cure, Tears for Fears, The Smiths, and various other 80's mope-rock groups, its impossible but just try to use your imagination.
I need to enjoy all of the happiness in my life but I just can't ignore that unhappy aftertaste.
What's goin' on? Music always helps... lets explore... no lists, I promise. Put on One Hot Minute Ralph, track 2 please.
"My friends are so depressed
I feel the question
of your loneliness
Confide... 'cause I'll be on your side
You know I will, you know I will...
My friends are so distressed
And standing on
the brink of emptiness
No words... I know of to express
this emptiness."
That particular song (definitely not considered mope rock though) has been continuously running through my head for the past couple of weeks. Not the whole song, just those two verses. Those words really ring true for me, as they remind me of my life when I was going through different stages of the grieving process for my old college existence. I have currently progressed to stage 9 3/4, somewhere between "Familial Reconstruction" and "Toilet Paper Wars-> The Struggle for Success" *(see explanation below) but I can still relate to other recent graduates I know who are currently in stages 2-4: "Loneliness and Boredom", "I Am a Loser", and "What Happened to My Tolerance?"
These lyrics don't just apply to those of us moping our way through our post-graduate years, but also have significance to some of my friends who are really going through some tough times. They are faced with problems I don't know how to solve and tough decisions that no one should ever have to make. It is all very strange to me, because even though I have been in their exact situations before, I still don't know what the answer is. For example (back of course to the after-college doldrums) my friend called me crying one day saying that she hated her situation, her face, her body, her apartment, her life away from Bloomington, her sister, everything. All I could think of was to tell her that I knew exactly how she felt, that I'd been there for a while when I first moved home, and that things would get better eventually. I felt like crap giving her that weak-ass response, but I really couldn't remember what made me get past those early stages of grief and into stages 6 and 7: "I'm 17 Again Acceptance" and "Hey, Free Food, That's Kind of Cool", where things didn't seem quite as bleak and I cried a lot less.
It seems somewhat hypocritical, but its just hard for me to be completely happy when people that I care about are not. How can I expect other people to suck it up and enjoy their lives, when I can't enjoy my own? It's a vicious cycle. Uh oh... I feel myself slipping back into stage 8: "Questioning One's Life Choices and Aspirations (if any) Mixed With Some Mild Self Loathing", that one's a real bitch. I should probably just follow my own pathetic advise and just wait for things to get better.
You know, when I think about it I do have some pretty good things going for me (Mexican vacation with good friend, my amazing physics tutor at the Jewish Academic Center, ; ) I'm not Martha Stewart) and I really shouldn't let other people's sadness bring me down, or I'll never actually be a help to them. Did I actually come to a conclusion? Wow, fantastic. I'm feeling better already. Lets ditch the mope rock Ralph, put on some Stones! ..."You can't always get what you want... but if you try sometimes, you just might find... you get what you need."
Don't miss the next heart pumping thrill ride of an episode:
"10 Things I Hate About Me" or "Even (Urban) Cowgirls Get the Blues"
Oops! I just realized I forgot to explain *Toilet Paper Wars* and their significance in my life. From an Anthropological standpoint, toilet paper war could be seen as a struggle for dominance in an environment where two young adults, forced to cohabitate in the home of their parents, must share a bathroom. The battle begins when one of the two young adults leaves nothing but a meager scrap of paper on the roll, for the unsuspecting sister to encounter. The innocent human is then helplessly stranded and the feeble cries for help go unheard. This forces the unfortunate one to either drip dry of find some other less desirable means of wiping, causing much anger and resentment. The unfortunate victim then counter attacks by leaving the empty role on the spindle, knowing fully that the other will have expected them to have gotten a replacement roll, thus setting the perfect trap. Both parties will feign innocence, but in reality they are both thinking "I'll be damned if I'm gonna replace that toilet paper! She was the one who finished it off and I had to wipe with a Q-tip!" The war can rage on for days, usually only stopped when the mother will cause a cease fire by replacing the roll herself. In that case both sides are usually satisfied because no one technically surrendered. That's it we've got issues.
The horror....The horror...
Since it does seem standard policy to at some point in time use song lyrics in your blog, I figured this would be the perfect opportunity.
In a perfect world this blog would have a soundtrack provided by The Cure, Tears for Fears, The Smiths, and various other 80's mope-rock groups, its impossible but just try to use your imagination.
I need to enjoy all of the happiness in my life but I just can't ignore that unhappy aftertaste.
What's goin' on? Music always helps... lets explore... no lists, I promise. Put on One Hot Minute Ralph, track 2 please.
"My friends are so depressed
I feel the question
of your loneliness
Confide... 'cause I'll be on your side
You know I will, you know I will...
My friends are so distressed
And standing on
the brink of emptiness
No words... I know of to express
this emptiness."
That particular song (definitely not considered mope rock though) has been continuously running through my head for the past couple of weeks. Not the whole song, just those two verses. Those words really ring true for me, as they remind me of my life when I was going through different stages of the grieving process for my old college existence. I have currently progressed to stage 9 3/4, somewhere between "Familial Reconstruction" and "Toilet Paper Wars-> The Struggle for Success" *(see explanation below) but I can still relate to other recent graduates I know who are currently in stages 2-4: "Loneliness and Boredom", "I Am a Loser", and "What Happened to My Tolerance?"
These lyrics don't just apply to those of us moping our way through our post-graduate years, but also have significance to some of my friends who are really going through some tough times. They are faced with problems I don't know how to solve and tough decisions that no one should ever have to make. It is all very strange to me, because even though I have been in their exact situations before, I still don't know what the answer is. For example (back of course to the after-college doldrums) my friend called me crying one day saying that she hated her situation, her face, her body, her apartment, her life away from Bloomington, her sister, everything. All I could think of was to tell her that I knew exactly how she felt, that I'd been there for a while when I first moved home, and that things would get better eventually. I felt like crap giving her that weak-ass response, but I really couldn't remember what made me get past those early stages of grief and into stages 6 and 7: "I'm 17 Again Acceptance" and "Hey, Free Food, That's Kind of Cool", where things didn't seem quite as bleak and I cried a lot less.
It seems somewhat hypocritical, but its just hard for me to be completely happy when people that I care about are not. How can I expect other people to suck it up and enjoy their lives, when I can't enjoy my own? It's a vicious cycle. Uh oh... I feel myself slipping back into stage 8: "Questioning One's Life Choices and Aspirations (if any) Mixed With Some Mild Self Loathing", that one's a real bitch. I should probably just follow my own pathetic advise and just wait for things to get better.
You know, when I think about it I do have some pretty good things going for me (Mexican vacation with good friend, my amazing physics tutor at the Jewish Academic Center, ; ) I'm not Martha Stewart) and I really shouldn't let other people's sadness bring me down, or I'll never actually be a help to them. Did I actually come to a conclusion? Wow, fantastic. I'm feeling better already. Lets ditch the mope rock Ralph, put on some Stones! ..."You can't always get what you want... but if you try sometimes, you just might find... you get what you need."
Don't miss the next heart pumping thrill ride of an episode:
"10 Things I Hate About Me" or "Even (Urban) Cowgirls Get the Blues"
Oops! I just realized I forgot to explain *Toilet Paper Wars* and their significance in my life. From an Anthropological standpoint, toilet paper war could be seen as a struggle for dominance in an environment where two young adults, forced to cohabitate in the home of their parents, must share a bathroom. The battle begins when one of the two young adults leaves nothing but a meager scrap of paper on the roll, for the unsuspecting sister to encounter. The innocent human is then helplessly stranded and the feeble cries for help go unheard. This forces the unfortunate one to either drip dry of find some other less desirable means of wiping, causing much anger and resentment. The unfortunate victim then counter attacks by leaving the empty role on the spindle, knowing fully that the other will have expected them to have gotten a replacement roll, thus setting the perfect trap. Both parties will feign innocence, but in reality they are both thinking "I'll be damned if I'm gonna replace that toilet paper! She was the one who finished it off and I had to wipe with a Q-tip!" The war can rage on for days, usually only stopped when the mother will cause a cease fire by replacing the roll herself. In that case both sides are usually satisfied because no one technically surrendered. That's it we've got issues.
The horror....The horror...
Tuesday, March 2
"Oh boy, sleep! That's where I'm a Viking!"
I owe a sincere apology to my blog, my laundry, and various other aspects of my life. I have neglected them all recently due to my addiction to sleep which I am trying very hard to overcome. I have left my blog in a very sorry state--> only occasionally responding to comments and leaving nothing to read but a long and sappy post about my mommy. Please forgive me. My laundry has also been abandoned for so long that all I have left are those ugly granny panties that seem to grow extra yards of fabric as the day goes on (leaving me prone to ridicule and severe wedgies) and mismatched old socks. I also find myself choosing to stay in bed and finish the crazy dream I'm having rather than call my friends, go to the grocery, work out, be a productive member of society, etc. Last week I was sleeping until at least 3:00pm everyday. I probably would have slept later but I had to leave for work at 5:00pm. How did it come to this and why have I been feeling the need to sleep all the time? Hmmm... I feel a list coming on... yes... wait... almost... oh... oh yeah... there it is!
Just the facts ma'am:
a) The most basic explanation for my sleeping habits could be that my suck ass work schedule has created the need for me to keep the same hours that usually only drug addicts and people with mood disorders keep. I work until 2:30am, get home at 3:00am, and I don't go to sleep until about 4:30am. Technically, I should be able to wake up at around 11:30am, but I seem to require more than the recommended 6-8 hours of sleep that a typical human should get.
B. Another very likely explanation for this could be that I don't really get any sleep on my days off from work, due to my desire to cram a weeks worth of socializing, cleaning, pet care (poor kitty), and errand running into two days, thus creating the need to catch up on my sleep the rest of the week.
5.) I also find that spending my days off in b-town greatly increases this need to sleep my life away. This is due to the fact that those two days consist solely of binge drinking and debauchery of the best kind; lots of it. The drunken revelry with distant friends is wonderful and the debauchery is fantastic, ; ) but I am left with little or no time for sleep.
(8j) I don't like to wake up if I am in the middle of a dream. I'm weird. I also have a hard time getting up if I have been woken up by someone. This seemingly innocent person will generally attempt to wake me up out of my blessed slumber 4-7 minutes before my alarm is supposed to go off. This is a very sensitive and crucial time. Its right when it would be pointless to go back to sleep but you still feel angry that you were robbed of those precious minutes. This situation creates some sort of a mental rebellion that causes me to sleep until 3:30pm, much later than my alarm was originally set for.
{q.} When I don't spend my days off in b-town I also find myself lacking sleep because I'm laden with family obligations, visits with non b-town friends, or (on good days) fun times with the Shipdizzle. For example: Thurs 02/26/04: Meet work friends at Don Pablos for margaritas. I run late so friends tell server that its my birthday. A large sombrero and much embarrassment follow. Got really trashed.
Fri 02/27/04: Kris comes to visit. Drag him with me to mall to buy pink shirt for mom (see 02/28/04) and b-day present for younger cousin. Eat at restaurant where male server a takes a fancy to Kris. Again. Go to parent's friend's house to hang with sister, Barney, and others. Got kind of trashed. Stayed up really late... studying physics, yeah.
Sat 02/28/04: Wake up at 10:00am to go to wedding shower. Everyone is supposed to wear pink. Everything at the shower is pink. Pink champagne punch does not cure hangover; induces nausea. Nausea returns when I catch myself saying "aaawwww" when bride-to-be receives pink spatula to go with the pink mixing bowls and pink apron received earlier. Pink Pepto Bismol is nowhere to be found. Leave shower with mom and sister to meet aunt and cousins for Greek food downtown. Three pink clad ladies wander downtown looking for seemingly nonexistent eatery. See sign for restaurant but dismayed when we walk in and find strange store selling ceramic bunnies. Finally find Greek restaurant. Nausea leaves but extreme tiredness arrives after gorging on food. Go home, take off pink outfit and go to work at 5:00pm. Get off work at 2:30am.
Sun 02/29/04: Beautiful day. Only comes around every 4 yrs. Me:zzzzzzz ZZZZZZZ zzzzzzz .... Go to work at 5:00pm.
Things are gonna change, I can feel it.
Today was a step in the right direction though. I was able to get up at 11:00am and I actually accomplished a few things, such as this forever long blog post, sorry. I enjoy all of the things on my list too much (with a few exceptions: pink parties, unnecessary wakeup calls) to change my lifestyle though. I guess I will just have to end this post without any real solution or conclusion. So yeah... um... okay that's all. I'm gonna go to bed now.
Catch the next exciting episode:
"Sorry 2004" or "To Sleep, or Not To Sleep; That Is The Question"
I owe a sincere apology to my blog, my laundry, and various other aspects of my life. I have neglected them all recently due to my addiction to sleep which I am trying very hard to overcome. I have left my blog in a very sorry state--> only occasionally responding to comments and leaving nothing to read but a long and sappy post about my mommy. Please forgive me. My laundry has also been abandoned for so long that all I have left are those ugly granny panties that seem to grow extra yards of fabric as the day goes on (leaving me prone to ridicule and severe wedgies) and mismatched old socks. I also find myself choosing to stay in bed and finish the crazy dream I'm having rather than call my friends, go to the grocery, work out, be a productive member of society, etc. Last week I was sleeping until at least 3:00pm everyday. I probably would have slept later but I had to leave for work at 5:00pm. How did it come to this and why have I been feeling the need to sleep all the time? Hmmm... I feel a list coming on... yes... wait... almost... oh... oh yeah... there it is!
Just the facts ma'am:
a) The most basic explanation for my sleeping habits could be that my suck ass work schedule has created the need for me to keep the same hours that usually only drug addicts and people with mood disorders keep. I work until 2:30am, get home at 3:00am, and I don't go to sleep until about 4:30am. Technically, I should be able to wake up at around 11:30am, but I seem to require more than the recommended 6-8 hours of sleep that a typical human should get.
B. Another very likely explanation for this could be that I don't really get any sleep on my days off from work, due to my desire to cram a weeks worth of socializing, cleaning, pet care (poor kitty), and errand running into two days, thus creating the need to catch up on my sleep the rest of the week.
5.) I also find that spending my days off in b-town greatly increases this need to sleep my life away. This is due to the fact that those two days consist solely of binge drinking and debauchery of the best kind; lots of it. The drunken revelry with distant friends is wonderful and the debauchery is fantastic, ; ) but I am left with little or no time for sleep.
(8j) I don't like to wake up if I am in the middle of a dream. I'm weird. I also have a hard time getting up if I have been woken up by someone. This seemingly innocent person will generally attempt to wake me up out of my blessed slumber 4-7 minutes before my alarm is supposed to go off. This is a very sensitive and crucial time. Its right when it would be pointless to go back to sleep but you still feel angry that you were robbed of those precious minutes. This situation creates some sort of a mental rebellion that causes me to sleep until 3:30pm, much later than my alarm was originally set for.
{q.} When I don't spend my days off in b-town I also find myself lacking sleep because I'm laden with family obligations, visits with non b-town friends, or (on good days) fun times with the Shipdizzle. For example: Thurs 02/26/04: Meet work friends at Don Pablos for margaritas. I run late so friends tell server that its my birthday. A large sombrero and much embarrassment follow. Got really trashed.
Fri 02/27/04: Kris comes to visit. Drag him with me to mall to buy pink shirt for mom (see 02/28/04) and b-day present for younger cousin. Eat at restaurant where male server a takes a fancy to Kris. Again. Go to parent's friend's house to hang with sister, Barney, and others. Got kind of trashed. Stayed up really late... studying physics, yeah.
Sat 02/28/04: Wake up at 10:00am to go to wedding shower. Everyone is supposed to wear pink. Everything at the shower is pink. Pink champagne punch does not cure hangover; induces nausea. Nausea returns when I catch myself saying "aaawwww" when bride-to-be receives pink spatula to go with the pink mixing bowls and pink apron received earlier. Pink Pepto Bismol is nowhere to be found. Leave shower with mom and sister to meet aunt and cousins for Greek food downtown. Three pink clad ladies wander downtown looking for seemingly nonexistent eatery. See sign for restaurant but dismayed when we walk in and find strange store selling ceramic bunnies. Finally find Greek restaurant. Nausea leaves but extreme tiredness arrives after gorging on food. Go home, take off pink outfit and go to work at 5:00pm. Get off work at 2:30am.
Sun 02/29/04: Beautiful day. Only comes around every 4 yrs. Me:zzzzzzz ZZZZZZZ zzzzzzz .... Go to work at 5:00pm.
Things are gonna change, I can feel it.
Today was a step in the right direction though. I was able to get up at 11:00am and I actually accomplished a few things, such as this forever long blog post, sorry. I enjoy all of the things on my list too much (with a few exceptions: pink parties, unnecessary wakeup calls) to change my lifestyle though. I guess I will just have to end this post without any real solution or conclusion. So yeah... um... okay that's all. I'm gonna go to bed now.
Catch the next exciting episode:
"Sorry 2004" or "To Sleep, or Not To Sleep; That Is The Question"
