the myspace blog
i hate friendster's tool for updating your blog...
http://www.myspace.com/peteisgrigg
i update that regularly, check it out if you wanna see whats going on with me
i hate friendster's tool for updating your blog...
http://www.myspace.com/peteisgrigg
i update that regularly, check it out if you wanna see whats going on with me
you and i met two years ago on a last minute business trip and i was immediately smitten. we shared an amazing two days together filled with long walks are the ciy, amazing restaurants and even better bottles of wine. you were a welcome change in the everyday drudgery of my life. but, as with all great romances, i had to leave you and go back to reality.
now here we are, two years later, together again. everything just as it was, like i had never left. perhaps its because im at yet another low point in my life and my familiar relationships are all changing, but i cant help think that you are the answer to my unhappiness. could i really leave my life behind and stay here?
san francisco, i think i am in love with you
when iTunes or your iPod finishes playing a song, it increments a 'play count' value in the ID3 tag to let you know how many times youve listened to that file. when i first encountered this fact, it provided an endless amount of amusement.
1) my most played song was a kylie minogue unreleased bonus track (kylie... shocking, i know!), but even more funny was that the same track was my roommate's most played.
2) i was horrified to find out my second most played track was a Hilary Duff song ... and then typing this, my horrification doubled when i realized that i know Hilary spells her name with only one "L". kill me now!
3) why does Raven Symone have a song in my top 10, but there is no sign of Cyndi Lauper in the top 50?
4) my top 20 songs really solidify the fact that i still am a 12 year old girl, though im thankful that no songs from High School Musical are up there.
and many more hysterical realizations followed, to the point where i have become obsessed over the play count. but the problem is that the number only increments when the song finishes. (and here is where my craziness comes in to play....)
i find myself listening to the end of a track even if ive become bored with it or if there is like 45 seconds of silence at the end. if my iPod is easily accessible, i will sometimes use the fast forward feature to get to the end of the track and let the count increment (but only if i feel ive listened to enough of the song to warranty a play count). every track that plays, i now am focused on making sure it gets a play count.
ive even found myself inflating the play counts of certain tracks that i feel are good songs, but for whatever reason havent been played enough. the 'album shuffle' feature tends to focus on some tracks and more than others. so i have to make sure that those songs dont feel left out.
ive become a nutjob ... a slave to the iTunes play count
i went to a Switchfoot concert last night and was blindsided with the fact that i have finally grown up. i should have been clued into this fact when i hadnt purchased my tickets ahead of time with the rationalization that if they were sold out that night, we would go to the movies instead.
it got worse, when the only tickets available were on the mezzanine of the hammerstein ballroom. my initial disappointed in not being able to get standing room floor tickets quickly melted away when i realized that the mezzanine had seats! SEATS, people! i was thrilled that i wasnt going to have to stand for 5 hours.
it didnt matter that Switchfoot looked like tiny little ants from the mezzanine, i didnt need to be close to the stage anymore. *sigh* then my friend had to plug her ears with her ipod earbuds because the music was too loud, i kinda agreed. all signs of impending adulthood.
the icing on the cake was when the opening band talked about Tears For Fears and the song they wrote about their memories of the 80s... prefacing the song with the announcement that most of the audience had probably been born in after the 1980s and wouldnt know what he was talking about. i died!
when did i get old?
i always though pillow cases, hand towels and necklines of t-shirts just hated me. i would show them nothing but love, compassion and genuine affection... in return they would bleach themselves out after a few short weeks. my blues would become pink, browns to a yellowish gold, blacks to a dull gray, etc.
it is true that i dont spend money on the highest quality fabrics, but no one else ever seem to have this problem. so i sadly admitted defeat several years ago and accepted that i would have to live with a curse that can never be lifted. i figured out how to lessen the guilt i felt about having to throw out such wonderful cloth after such a short time. after all, it wasnt my fault. right?
wrong!
it seems that ever since my childhood, i have unknowingly been a potent transport vessel for a chemical compound known as chlorine. apparently my body absorbs this harsh reactant in its native environment and then, combined with my own sweat or water solution, it releases its fury upon whatever helpless soul lies in its path.
all this time, i have been watching my poor, innocent belongings wither away into nothing... i am the reason they are gone. i am the reason they were subjected to such horrors. it causes me great pain to know that my own epidermus was to blame. with this weight on my shoulders, i am uncertain how to move forward and make amends for my wrong doings.
it was all my fault
i finally had my first moment of laughing in the face of a complete stranger.
i try to be respectful when people do odd things or express frustration in public. i can usually hold it in, or just release a smile with a hand over the face. this time, i could not...
i was headed up to yankee stadium with my sister and there was a man across from us reading the NY Post. he had a sharpie marker in his hand and had vandalized a page with a picture of Owen Wilson... and he was taunting it. owen had received devil horns, a handle bar mustache, blackened teeth, a pirate patch eye, and had flowers drawn on his shirt.
i find photos (subway ads) with blackened teeth hysterical... so, combined with the fact that this was his own copy of the paper, i burst out laughing at him and couldnt stop.
the comedy went downhill after he started shouting gibberish at me, threw his paper on the floor and ran off the train screaming. i guess im going to hell for laughing at a crazy person.
something happened about two weeks ago...
i havent been able to pull myself off the couch. ive stopped sleeping, i sometimes forget to eat, and i dont ususally get dressed in the morning. a shave and a shower only seem to happen when things get really bad. ive taken time off from work. ive stopped socializing with my friends. ive cut down the amount of swim practices that i go to each week.
everything seems to be taking backseat, im spiraling out of control and i feel that there is nothing i can do. i am helpless.
damn you, nintendo wii ... i just cant stop!
i lazily decided to take the M96 bus from 2nd ave to lexington, to avoid walking the two blocks to the subway. the bus was right there when i got the 2nd ave, so i figured why not!?
as i made my way to the back of the bus and took a seat (why would i take a seat for two stops? i dont know!). i took a seat in the back row in the corner. i had my ipod on, so i was ignoring the woman waving her arms at me, thinking she was some crazy trying to talk to me. when i sat down, she tapped my leg... so i was forced to interact.
i took off my headphones and she informed me that the seat i was sitting in was wet and that i should get up. when i checked my butt, sure enough, it was wet but hadnt soaked through to my skin yet. stupid new buses with upholstered seats.... i moved one seat over, which i felt first and it was not wet.
i got into the subway station and stood against the wall, as to hide my wet butt as long as possible. the train came, i got on...
a few stops later, something ocurred to me about the M96 incident. it was not (nor had been recently) raining outside, nothing had been dripping from the ceiling of the bus, and there was no water or anything on the floor near the seat or on the seat next to the wet one....
HAD I JUST SAT IN SOMEONE'S PEE?!?!
i was already half way to work and too afraid to touch my butt and smell my hand to verify if it was urine. i dried myself with the hand dryers in the bathroom at work, and spent the entire day pondering if i was covered in someone else's pee...
a few days ago, i experienced something that made me see myself in a radically different way. im purposely going to keep the details vague, but essentially i forced myself out of my comfort zone and into a situation that i would normally have stayed as far away from as possible.
the end result was surprisingly invigorating and the complete opposite of my previous expectations/assumptions. the experience shed new light on my insecurities and showed me that, up until now, they have been wasting my time.
i am very grateful that it happened and wanted to post something here to remind myself that the things you dont want to do are usually the things worth doing most.
i took the 6 train home last saturday night around 3am. there were maybe 15 people in the car, so i took a seat across from a chatty couple and proceeded to doze off against the railing.
i woke up about 15 minutes later to my foot in a HUGE puddle of vomit. and seeing as how i could not locate a jamba juice cup anywhere near by, i was forced to conclude that it could not have been a spilled smoothie, but that someone had in fact thrown up on me. this hypothesis was further supported by the girl across from me with her head in between her knees and her boyfriend holding her hair and rubbing her back.
i stood up, yelled loudly at them for letting me sleep with my foot in her vomit and for generally being disgusting. i switched cars at the next station and threw out my shoes when i got home.
i really liked those shoes.