so in case you've been living under a myspace rock for the last month or so, you know i'm living in northern virginia, about an hour out from DC.  got me a DOMESTIC nanny job. motherfuckers can't deport me from my own country!

but since i've moved here, i've become something of a political nerd.  i listen to nothing but NPR while i'm driving, and i stop and watch when something about the election or the financial crisis comes on tv.  i find myself really caring about how this election goes, and knowing more about it than i would have, had i not been living in an area where politics is the main course on most everyones table.  i never thought that i'd look forward to watching a debate, or enjoy reading articles in rolling stone on how hard palin sucks (bet some of you guys really wonder about that, since she's such a MILF and all) but that's who i am now.  

yeah, i know we're young people and regardless of what happens in washington or in meetings full of suits across the country, we'll still get up and go to work/school, put gas in our cars and party on the weekends, but one day we will have to worry about our mortgages, healthcare and taxes.  we can help our future selves (not to mention our current elders) out by doing our part- being informed, and voting when it really counts.  i think that even though it might be a little boring to listen to people talk about politics or surf the internet for articles about the election rather than watch porn or check this damn website, it's still important, and not hard to include in our daily lives.

at the very least, watch their first debate on friday (if they have it, stupid financial crisis), figure out where you stand on the candidates beyond what you heard about how obamas minister hates white people, or how mccain is too old and just another version of bush.  YOU make the call on who you'd rather our leader be.  YOU vote in november, rather than leave it up to other people to decide for you who gets the white house.  YOU think about something a little more important than where you're gonna get drunk this weekend and who you're going to see at greene st.

or be lazy bastards.  either way, i'm gonna do something for me and my country, and quit letting other people do the all politiking.  i'll cross my fingers for y'all.

"most americans no longer have the energy to do anything but lie back and let ourselves be jacked off by the calculating thieves who run this grasping consumer paradise we call a nation." -matt taibbi 

Passport & International Driving Permit: $130
Plane ticket to London: $600
New digital camera: $170
New luggage: $70
A grand completely wasted (other than the cam): Priceless



So, I haven't really wanted to write this while I'm still depressed about it, but I suppose it's better to get it out of the way and get you bastards off my back about the story.

First off, I went to the UK intending to work as an au pair (aka nanny).  It's illegal to work in a foreign country without prior permission in the form of a visa.  I was unable to get either a work or au pair visa due to the type of work I was going to be doing and because of the country I was coming from, respectively.  I knew this from the get-go, as did my host family, but we went ahead with our plans anyway.  NEVER assume that you'll be able to get by the immigration officers, because it's their job to catch people who are coming to their country for the wrong reasons, and they're hard to fool.  I've since heard that the UK ones are especially anal about it, but better to be safe than sorry.

So, that being said, the family and I made up a very thin cover story in case they decided to question me, which we didn't think was likely.  Ha.    Since they'd never been to the States and my passport was new, we agreed to say that I had met the mother's brother randomly when he visited America in 2001 and that we'd kept in touch all these years and when it was possible for me to come visit, I did and decided to stay with his sister's family in Wiltshire.  That was about all I had in my head when I landed in Heathrow, other than his name.  After waiting in line for about an hour, I got called up to an officer named Jason.  He asked me what was the reason for my six month stay (all arriving people had to fill out these little cards that said how long we were staying, why and where we were staying, blahblah), I said to experience English life with some family friends.  He asked how I knew them, I spit out my story; he looked at me kinda funny and asked how much money I had.  I only had about $300, and I told him so.  Big mistake.  He asked how I planned to live on so little money, and I said the family was going to support me while I lived with them.  Long story short, he got it out of me that they had two kids and I was going to be watching them (unpaid) while the parents were at work.  Mistake numero dos.

He asked me to take a seat while he went and spoke to the mother, who was waiting in the airport to pick me up and take me back home with her.  I sat there for about an hour, getting more and more upset and nervous for what was going to happen when he came back.  When he returned from talking to her (later I found out that she confirmed my story), he took me to go and get my luggage so he could go through it, I guess to see if I had anything with me that would get me into further trouble.  He continued questioning me as we walked through the airport, and my lie kept getting bigger and bigger and I could feel my face getting red and my voice starting to shake a little.  After a question that I couldn't think of an answer to, I made a decision.  I said  "I'm sorry for any inconvenience, but I've come here to be a nanny, I know it was wrong and I understand that I have to go home now."   And I burst into tears.

He took me into the back, got my picture and my fingerprints and took my statement, had me sign some papers, explained to me that I wasn't being charged with anything, just that I was going back to the States as soon as possible.  I waited in the detainment room for about five hours, alternately staring at the horrible pinky-purple couches and talking to the other people who were having trouble getting permission to enter the country.  There were three people from Pakistan, a punk band from Australia, a really weepy girl named Mary, a woman from Africa and ironically another girl from North Carolina.  All of us ended up being sent back home, even though most of us had good, non-malicious reasons for being in the UK.

I called my mom from the pay phone in the room, told her what had happened and got her credit card number (at the time I thought I'd have to pay for my return ticket then and there, which thank goodness was not the case) and then called the mother of my host family.  She was very understanding and warm, and deeply apologetic that all of this had happened.  She never made me feel stupid or that I was to blame, and has since offered to pay for any return expenses, if they ever end up billing me.  They would have been a wonderful family to work for and be a part of, and I'm still upset that I never even got to meet them, or even give her a hug for being so understanding.  If they can't find another nanny within the next few weeks, the father is going to have to quit his job and stay home with the kids, since daycare is not an option they're willing to consider- but, I digress.

An hour before the flight I'd been assigned to was due to depart, two security officers came and got me and my luggage from the room.  They put red tags on all of my bags (which I felt was like a big fat DEPORTED stamp that everyone could see) and they escorted me through the airport, past all the lines I would have normally been made to wait through and then watched me board the plane before anyone else, even the disabled.  A very emotional eight hours later, we landed in New York City and I called my mom again and had her book me a flight to come home to NC later that night. 

Everyone I came into contact with was very nice and polite to me.  No one was ever mean or made me feel like I was a criminal, they were just following procedure.  Jason even told me that he thought I was a lovely young lady and that he hoped I was able to return someday on different terms.  I hope I can too, but that isn't likely because I have a fat black stamp in my passport that tells people I was deported from a country.  He said I'll have difficulty travelling anywhere overseas, and I'll definitely need a visa to come back to the UK, even just as a vacation.

I wasted a lot of money, time and tears on attempting to be a nanny in England.  Being at home now feels wrong.  You should never feel like this in your own home, and for that reason I wish all of this had never happened.  As of right now, I'm out a job, a lot of savings, and the happiness that came with the opportunity of living a new life with a wonderful family in a beautiful place.  Don't get me wrong, my home life is great, I have some good friends and I have a great relationship with my mother and I'm grateful for everything she's done for me, but this is what I had my heart set on doing and now cannot do.

I still have about $500 in bills every month that my mom cannot pay, so I need to work, and school is not an option that I'm willing to look into at this time.  I'm currently on the prowl for a domestic nanny job, as I don't want to go back to daycare or get a retail job, and I don't have any skills in other types of work.  If you guys know of any babysitting or odd jobs I can do in the meantime then that'd be great, since I don't have much left in savings to bridge the gap until I find another job.

Thanks for reading this far (if you did haha) and if you have any more questions to ask, don't hesitate to ask me, because though it is shitty to talk about, I don't want it to needlessly happen to anyone else.

So about a month ago I signed up on this website where people post wanted ads for au pairs, and people wanting to be an au pair/nanny post their information and when they're willing to work, and you basically try to "match" yourself with a family and vice versa.  A few weeks ago I matched with a family in England who have twin one-year-olds, Oliver and Isabel.  We've been e-mailing back and forth since, kinda feeling each other out for what we both want out of the arrangement, and I went ahead and applied for a passport which came back in a week.   AKA absolutely unheard of without paying out the ass, so I took that as a sign, because they needed me by early July and if it would've taken the 4-6 weeks it says then I probably wouldn't have been able to make it.

We both got really good vibes out of each other, and today we decided that we both want to go ahead with everything, so I booked a flight to London, and will be leaving from the Raleigh airport on July 9th.  I'll be staying there for about six months, since I can't get a visa and that's the most amount of time I can stay there as a vacationer.  Unless of course I meet a fine-ass british boy and get hitched.  Yeah, right.  The real kicker is that they're gonna be reimbursing me for my flight over there and then paying for the return  one as well, so there was really no reason for me to even THINK about passing this opportunity up.  I'm gonna put in my two weeks notice in the morning at Childtime, work that, chill out for another week... then I'm peacing the fuck out, America!

So basically, if you wanna see me before I leave, you got three weeks.

Bitches.

sometimes my stomach sits
sideways inside myself
and i twist and stretch
try to settle, move it to a place
where i can forget that it's there

but no matter which way i move
or try to think of other things
still it sits and stews
unsettled, fidgety and rising into my throat
mirroring my discontent

i want to bruise my knuckles
raise my voice to the ceiling
colour my skin so red and glaring
anything to break this fervor
help me to cope and contain this feeling
that what i am will never be enough

the assymetries of my body, mouth and mind
cripple my capabilities of holding someone close
i am unable to keep their gaze fixed on my face
not even worth meriting an explanation of why
though it's clear for anyone who cares to see
that it really is just me.

to take me to the fair
to change my underweeeeeeeeear

i hate calling my dad
always makes me cry.

can't quite put my finger on why, but i ll call him and we'll talk for a maximum of five minutes about how we've been, he asks about mom, and then he tells me he loves me and to give him a call anytime i wanna come up and visit (he lives in ny) and he'll send me the money and we can work it out. he tells me he loves me and says "alright honey bye-bye" and that's that. fade out, go to a shot of me from behind, shoulders shaking and reaching for the tissue box.

that's my daddy, and i love him.. but i don't know him. i know his voice, and how he smells, but he looks older every time i see him. i have to force myself to call him on holidays, and i NEVER know what to get him for the gift-giving ones. i hate rooting through all the "love you dad, thanks for being there" and "you taught me so much" greeting cards to find one that's applicable to our virtually non-existant relationship.

maybe it did fuck me up, my parents not being together. maybe that's why i can't commit, and when i do (or want to) it's to less than worthy guys. yay for inheriting my mothers impeccable taste and loner factor.

i miss my tiny apartment bedroom
and not knowing my way around greensboro
and being content with just spending time with my girls, not having to go to a party to feel like my night has been made worthwhile.

i meet all these new people, make all these new friends, but nothing feels genuine, nothing feels like it will last- and it usually doesn't.  depresses me, really.

sometimes i question my decision to not go to college, because i think then maybe i wouldn't be stuck in this rut, and that i would be doing something more for myself than wiping babies asses for a paycheck so i can pay for my car which i use to drive around and see people who, for the most part, won't matter to me by the time i can buy the alcohol i drink with them on the weekends.  though realistically, even if i had gone to school, i would have felt guilty every goddamn day for draining my mom dry of virtually all her money just so i could make a little more cash for myself in four years when i could finally get a full-time job.  must be nice to have a mommy and daddy who can pay for all your shit while you go get a degree.

but that's the way the chips fall when you're the child of a single parent, and that's how i'm living my life.  even if i wanted to go ahead and be selfish and go to college so i could have something to say to my acquaintances when they ask where i'm going to school other than "nowhere- i work", i couldn't for another five years at least, barring major life changes like winning the lottery or the kia getting totaled and my insurance company paying for it.  it's funny how so seemingly small an event as buying a car can rule the way you live your life, or how your boyfriend and subsequent husband being an intolerable alcoholic can affect you and your children for years and years to come.

i guess what i'm saying is.. think before you do anything.  think hard about what you're doing and why you're doing it.  your future self will thank you for it, because regrets are sad, silly and pointless things.

hey, sick on a friday night.. know what that means?  blog!

so as you bulletin-readers know, april and myself went on a weekend excursion (not the suv, btw.  lol jk etcetc) to new york.  yes the city, but also to my daddys house in long island.  that part isn't very interesting to most of you though, so i'll skim over it.  his upstairs neighbers were over fifty and smoking weed, which i found amusing.  but i digress.

we left thursday evening and drove all night to get to LI by morning, which we did by some twist of fate.  pass-outage commenced until around noon, and we took the train into the city and were there by mid-afternoon. 

obligatory train camwhore:


i look tiny and jewish.

once we arrived, we puttered around times square, which april loved (i swear she should've been born a raccoon, she loves bright and shiny things.. and eyeliner, but that's neither here nor there) and then got somehow navigated ourselves to the roseland ballroom where the deftones were playing that night.  the dudes behind us in line were being fourteen year old elitist assholes the whole time and making fun of everything everyone did/said.  oddly enough didn't say anything when the girl with 5689 facial piercings and a mowhawk and huge platform scary boots walked by.. ah, diversity.





"ki-ki get lost in time squaaaaaaaayre!!"

roseland ballroom was really big and neat and had the coolest bathrooms ever.  and a guy that sold buttons in the basement.  i got a RATM one and an "i want my mp3" one.  i'm trendy.  but yeah deftones played with fall of troy (awesome band, really talented guitarist with claudio hair, i fell in love) and dir en grey, who i hated.  good actual music, but the vocalist was just waaaay too weird for my taste.  and he started bleeding from the mouth randomly?  silly asians.  deftones played an amazing set though, and i was in the middle of two huge and scary pits, but i survived- never sweat so much in my life.  sexy, i know.  third time seeing them was def a positive experience, and worth driving +20 hours.


cool bathroom thingy


chino!


the m&m store we visited afterwards.


she was only wearing pasties.  and yes that's a real iguana on the dudes back.

saturday we went into the city again after resting up and we went to the empire state building (but didn't go up in, since april was scared of the elevator :p) and to central park.  i loved central park.  it was such a neat oasis in the middle of a huge city, even though some guy in strawberry fields yelled "you should get your clitoris pierced!" at me.. and not in a non-creepy way.  if there is indeed a non-creepy way to say that.  hm..  oh and while eating somewhere random, we heard this massive crash in the street; we venture outside, and in the store directly across from ours, there's a cab.  INSIDE the store.  and the fat fare ran away, roflcopter.  i called my dad and told him about it and he said it happens every day.  i just dont know what i'd do with myself if a friggin' car drove through my window.  other than shit everywhere, of course.  buuuut that didn't stop us from riding in a cab two more times before we left the city hahaha.  yay laziness/aversion to subways.


the vitamin shoppe now has a drive-thru!  (forgive me)


niceass hotel across from part of central park- check out all the limos.  mm, swanky.


central park flowers


what one sees after rotating 180 degrees from above flowers.  neato.


park camwhore.  less than two weeks and i will no longer be a brace-face.  halleigh-fuckin-lujiah.


um, you know.


i think it's great that people still put stuff on his memorial.  john lennons, for those of you not "in the know".  ahem.



and that was about it.  we went home, packed, slept and left sunday morning.  i really wish we'd have had more time and that i wouldn't have been sickly and irritable for the majority of the trip, but april got to see the city, i got to see deftones, and the kia went on its first roadtrip.  good times, good times.

i just bought one of those page-a-day calendars at barnes and noble.  this one is optimistically themed- five little bullets a day of little things to be happy about.

in reading/tearing off the pages to get to the 23rd, i saw that one of the bullets was "the ocean in winter."

i've never seen the ocean in the wintertime.  i think i need to.  i have always loved the ocean and walking beside it is one of the best head-clearing activities i've come across.  i've been thinking too narrowly lately, been too absorbed in my stupid little day to day dramas and heartaches, and i'm tired of it.  i think maybe the combination of getting away from all the bullshit here and seeing something so natural and uncomplicated would do me good.

i just hope i'll be able to find some kind of decent inn thing that will let me rent a room even though i'm only nineteen, because i'm not trying to take anyone with me.  it might be a little lonely, but i think that's something i should probably be getting accustomed to again.

wish me luck.

life's not fair.

total cliche, but just the same.. "not fair!" is something you'll hear every child from talking age onwards say everytime something doesn't go their way.  well things aren't going my way and i'm gonna blog about it, since pouting doesn't really work for me anymore.

my mom and i leave each other notes on the stairs all the time, and i left her one saying that i was sorry i didnt spend enough time with her- she replied with this:

    "Believe me- I remember being 18! (Although our relationship is much better than mine was with my mom) And I don't mind you spending time with your friends- It just seems you're the only one really making an effort to please everyone.
    I love you, and want you to be happy- I just miss you sometimes :p "

i love my friends more than life.. but sometimes i don't think they do.  i didn't really realise it before i read that, but i'm always the one to make time for other people, to go out of my way to visit or hangout.  no one but april ever comes to my house just to visit.  i'm ALWAYS at other peoples houses catering to their time schedule.

i never see my mom anymore, and i'm constantly running on very little sleep other than the days i crash and pass out until the afternoon, which completely cuts into my already limited time with my mom.  i love my mother as an only child loves her single mom- as a best friend and as a life-saver.  she's done so much for me, and i thank her by never being home for dinner, putting everyone elses needs before hers and communicating to her mostly through texts and phonecalls, even though i LIVE with her.

but hey, i've got food to eat, money for my bills, a roof over my head.. and good kids in my life who love me, even though they don't always show it.  guess i can't complain too much.

if you're reading this, go to parties that i want to go to.  come to my house.  play with my cats.  we'll bake cookies.. and if you're my boyfriend, then there might be some hankypanky thrown in there too. 

sweet.