Virginia Woolf

I'm reading To the Lighthouse and it annoys me that I can't appreciate Virginia Woolf. I know it's me and that I'm not intellectually ready to appreciate it, but I'm a third of the way through and it is just awful. Hahah.

MK

Baby's First Piercing

A week ago I was assigned to write a short story inspired by a personal photograph. I'm too lazy to find the photo, but it was a few friends and I on our last day of junior year of high school. This is what I wrote:

"Baby's First Piercing"

So there we were in front of the K-Mart by the 6 train Astor Place station. It was our last day of junior year, and we went there right after our early dismissal. We made our trip from our Catholic high school in Queens almost immediately, only stopping to pose for a few photos.

The purpose of the trip was to get piercings. Sandra wanted to get her bellybutton pierced, I wanted to get an industrial bar in my right ear, and my other friend Jenn was just along for the adventure. Yes- Sandra was sixteen; yes- I was recently seventeen; yes- the legal age for getting pierced in New York City is eighteen; and yes, we intended on accomplishing this in our Catholic school uniforms that literally screamed “jail bait”

“The place is that way.” I said to my two compadres while pointing towards St. Marks Place. Just then a strong gust of wind struck us, tousling our flat ironed hair and light blue oxford shirts.

We made our way to Ian’s, our piercing destination, while skillfully holding our grey pleated skirts down against the wind. The three of us small talked about boys and intended summer plans… everything but what we came here to do. We were just getting pierced. No big deal. No big deal.

I had browsed the shop before with a friend, and we were greeted by the same over weight bearded Jewish man in a classy suit from behind an epic showcase of body jewelry. Till this day I have yet to see a suit in a tattoo/piercing shop.

“Hello!” Jenn chimed.

“Hi,” I dragged out the i, exaggerating my youth even more, “I’d like to get an Industrial on my right ear.”

“And I’d like to get my belly done.” Sandra blurted out.

“Alright, well who wants to go first?” There was not even a millisecond of skepticism from the bulbous man. He was even smiling!

All three of us unintentionally sighed, and I adjusted my knee socks. Looking back, that was downright obnoxious. Sandra only looked at me with furrowed eyebrows and a sad face. Jenn had already been captivated by the shiny objects in the jewelry case.

“I’ll go first. I’d like a fourteen gauge plain silver barbell, please.” Now I was starting to get a little anxious.

I stepped into the piercing room in the back, which was very clean. I met the actual piercer, who was pretty stereotypical. He had so much metal on his face, I was pretty sure if I threw a magnet in his general direction it would stick. I don’t remember his name, so let’s call him something cliché... Snake? Snake.

“Ok I’m going to do each piercing with a needle first, then I’m going to thread the jewelry through, okay?” Snake explained.

“S-sure” I choked.

“No cry babies here.” Snake jokingly warned, and pointed to a black and white sign on the wall that boldly read Fuck Crybabies.

I laid down on a covered padded table in a fetal position on my left side, leaving my right ear exposed. Only Jen decided to watch.

“Okay are you ready?” Snake asked caringly. This guy was pretty cool.

“Yeah. Let’s do this.”

“Take in a deep breath, and exhale when I count to three. One. Two. Three…”

Snake forced the needle in the first part of my ear. It wasn’t too bad for me, Jenn on the other hand let out a noticeably audible gasp mixed with a little shriek. I had to stifle a giggle.

“Oooh we have some blood. You’re bleeding a little bit, but that’s okay.” Snake informed me.

“Oh my Gawd! Mary you’re, like, bleeding! Oh my Gawd! You’re, like, gushing!” Jenn began to freak out in all of her Italian/Queens accent glory.

“Shut up Jenn!” I snapped back in a nervous laugh. I could hear her pacing a few feet away.

“Haha don’t worry it’s really not that much, and it happens all the time with these. I’ll do the next hole and then clean you up. Another deep breath, darling. One. Two. Three.” Snake made me feel a lot better, but not Jenn though since she made the same awful noise again.

If you’re wondering where Sandra is through all of this, she’s in the front chatting up the Jewish man because she thought she’d back out if she saw mine. Snake did the count to three trick another two times to take the needle out and but the bar in. I got up and checked out my new mark of badass-ness in the mirror, and it was, indeed, badass- almost as badass as my knee socks. To prove Jenn wrong, Snake showed me the little piece of gauze he cleaned me up with. I’ve had paper cuts that shed more blood.

“Jenn, you’re an idiot!” I mocked. She started laughing and apologized to Snake as we walked towards the front of the shop. He looked Sandra straight in the eye and said, “You’re next.”

Letters, Words, Sentences, Paragraphs...

Thanks to my creative writing class, I've been doing some... well.. creative writing recently. I'll post what I do here. Woo!


Lady Gaga is a class act.

MK

It's Been Awhile..

awful song, but in this case it is the truth!

Since I've typed last, this is what's went down in my life.

-Went to Bonnaroo Festival in June, during which I turned 20.
-Spent another summer interning at a certain morgue that will not be named.
-Had my two best friends move in together, which practically means I moved in too ;)
-Completed my first semester as a true English Major, and my GPA was a 3.9
-Had a very short relationship with a lovely man, but shit happens.


What I came here to write about started last Sunday, just as the Superbowl began. My mother became violently sick, so one of my brothers and I took her to the Emergency Room at a local hospital. Since I work at a morgue and my brother is a doctor, we were assuming the worst (a GI bleed) and consequently freaking the fuck out. Luckily, it turned out to be her gallbladder acting up. She got it removed, all is well, and she returns from the hospital tomorrow.
Now I consider my mother to be my best friend, and she is the most loving, funny, and strongest person I know. I have only seem my mother cry twice: once when my maternal grandmother died, and once during a really emotional episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Seeing my mother in such a fragile state was really hard to deal with. The woman has removed her own moles for Christ's sake! Time is rolling forward, one day she'll be gone, and there is absolutely nothing I can do to change that. It's overwhelming. I'm trying to find the right words to put here but I can only say this- even if she lives to celebrate her 200th birthday, I still won't be ready to say goodbye.

I am perfectly aware how unattractive this attachment would be if I were a man, haha.

Onwards to other stuff.

I would just like to commend a few celebrities for knowing when to quit. It's hard to do, but it honestly was the right decision. So thank you Dane Cook, Lucy Liu, Hootie (from the Blowfish?), and Chad Michael Murray. Maybe you can convince Kim fucking Kardashian from sticking her ugly mug everywhere I go. Yuck. What does she do? Can anyone tell me? Has she ever had a *real job?

I gotta get my butt back to kickboxing classes.... hospitals sell the most unhealthy food. This is what we get from a profit driven health care system. It'd be a little fishy if there was a diaper company that also made condoms. Just sayin'.

MK

I Am a Teenage Loser..

The new video for Against Me!'s "I Was a Teenage Anarchist" is great. I love it.

I drank a little too much last night and got sick. Half way through throwing up I looked up at my best friend and said, "How does Amy Weinhouse do it?" Haha. Never again tequila.. never again. I still got to class on time, though.

So I'm sitting in my friend's apartment on the upper east side of Manhattan and I realized how lame it is that I live in New York City and the only celebrity sighting I've ever had was Larry King in front of the ESPN zone in Times Square. Pitiful.

New tattoo soon. Love those needles.

MK

I hate the subway...

with every fiber of my being. Just the thought of taking it tomorrow morning at rush hour sparks up enough contempt to inspire me to blog about it.

My goal in life is to be rich enough to have the luxury of forgetting how the NYC subway map looks like. It's a high, but attainable, thing to aspire to.

I spend three hours a day on trains. I'm going to regret that on my deathbed. I really hope it pays off and I get into med school after 4 years of it. Being a medical examiner is the only thing I want to do with my life. If it doesn't work out, I have no clue what what's going to happen.

fingers crossed*

MK

Random Thoughts

I'm just going to use this thing to jot down random thoughts rather than make long pretentious arguments like the previous entries. So here you go:

There is good music out there today. These assholes hung up on the thought that the only good music ever created was in the 60's & 70's are just too lazy to put a little effort into finding good music. I love putting the effort in because the payoff is amazing- you get to hear music you genuinely love, and the bands actually appreciate your interest. I guess there are people who'd rather spend their lives watching youtube videos of bands that broke up before their parents hit puberty. Just sayin'.

I saw Against Me! last night at the Crazy Donkey. Yeah I guess I do love AM! that much to leave Queens and go to Long Island, believe me that's dedication hahaha. They've been getting a lot of shit for their last few records, but my ears just love anything they do. He said about 2 sentences the whole set. No bullshit, just songs. Admirable.

The heat is starting to blaze here in NYC. Nothing is more uncomfortable than a hot subway car, which gets better when you're greeted by scorching blacktop upon exit from the station. Maybe I'll take my new guitar to Central Park with Kylie sometime soon.

MK