It's a war that I wage inside of myself. I am, I am almost loathe to admit it but it's so disgustingly obvious, a Good Girl. Pretty much, I am the definition of what a good girl is- I don't sleep around, go to church most Sundays, drink to excess only on specific occasions, dress prettily - I LOVE to dress prettily! Period pieces are even better, my current fav. being that whole fifties thing of flowy skirts, pointy high heeled shoes and softly curled hair- but I digress- I am who I am and I discovered when I was in NYC that I really and truly am such a woman, but there are times when it just kind of sucks! I get so tired of it all, of everything, but I think, quite frankly, as all of my various worlds are in an uproar, that this new wanting to not be the girl next door most likely has something to do with it. Then again, it could just very well be hormones. Damned if I know anymore. Actually, do I even care which it might be? I don't think I do. I think I need some corrupting. Hmmm... God knows I won't have time once grad. school starts this fall. I'm off to dance suggestively to my new Stereophonics c.d. Ciao.

Me in Stratford, good Ol' Shakespeare country!
There are more, many, many more but as per usual I'm having technical difficulties. I'm also having spelling difficulties thanks to two glasses of wine. I had such a marvelous time! Damn, I hate work! I shall try to post more pictures at a later date. Right now, I'm shattered!

Today as I was coming home from work, I was walking down Electric Avenue (cue music) and I spotted all of these singles on the ground- two or three folded clumps and a singleton. I looked around to see if anyone was near and then picked them up. I felt guilty, thinking that someone probably needs them but there was no one around to ask. I admit it. I put them in my pocket and continued on after thinking about what I should do. After a few blocks and many hundred of feet, I pulled them out of my pocket and counted. $22- singles, just laying on the ground. It's many hours and I still feel somewhat bad after I try to comfort myself with the fact that they were laying there and anyone else would have picked them up and how many times in my lifetime have I dropped money that someone else picked up and on and on it goes.

I'm leaving on Friday. My plane for NY takes off at five and my flight from JFK takes off at 9:30 p.m. I'll be landing at Heathrow at about ten to nine U.K. time on Saturday, which means in Buffalo time it'll be ten to 4 in the morning. I can't believe it. My head is spinning and I haven't even begun to pack, which is so very unlike me. It's the first time in 6 years that I've been in England. In my entire life, I have never gone this long without going to England to see my family. I've missed so much. Wish me luck and a bon voyage. Wish me safety and prosperous journey. I doubt I'll be able to post whilst I'm away. I'll have to jot a bit before I leave. I am sure I shall.

Lately, I've been thinking. Not a big surprise. I think a great deal, actually, but lately I've been thinking about, and wondering, if my being a romantic is a good thing or a detriment. I truly believe in love. I truly believe that there IS someone out there for everyone, maybe even particular people at particular stages in our lives, but that that love is out there. But for me, in my life, believing what I do, I often get very sad about it all. I see my friends, who seemingly have found what I'm seeking and I feel like I'll be alone forever. Is there anything worse than that feeling? The logical, rational side of my brain says, "But you have your friends and so you're not alone!" but I still feel alone in the way that I wish to be part of a pair. I watch the ducks on Smoke's Creek and see them in pairs and can't help but smile and feel that that is what we are all seeking. But is it something we should actively seek? I'm not actually, actively seeking anything but that momentum is there, propelling me foward, thinking, "Is He the one? Could he love me for who I am?" I hate asking myself that question. Frankly, I am tired of it. But still I believe. It's part of who I am I suppose. I am a romantic. I am also becoming jaded. It's the jaded thing with which I'm really taking issue. And round and round it goes in my head. Where is stops, no one knows. And so continues my dramedy.

And I'm not talking about the movie, either. There are many distinct ethnicitiies in Lackawanna. It's a surprisingly diverse place filled with poverty, considerable wealth, generational ties (for example, sections of my family have been in Lackawanna since the early 1900's, scary and yet true!) and new comers. We are a nutty city, who can boast with a sick sort of pride that we are home to the ugliest building on the face of the planet AND it's our City Hall! (If you can find uglier, I want photographic evidence, and it can't be a run-down, abandoned building either! It's got to be in use.) Because I live and work there, I have noticed lately that two separate and distinct ethnicities tend to call me, and my co-workers, "Honey". They would be the Arabians and the Slavs. The Arabians have been here for as long as I can remember, but the Slavic people have only recently, the past ten years or so, been in the city. I don't know, it's just odd to me that they, both groups, do this. "Honey" is generally a term of endearment, so to have it used to casually, well, I just don't know what to think of the thing. Curious.