Miles Davis day

I stepped outside this morning and felt sharp, warm raindrops against my bare skin. I was merely running out to start my car and was still donning a tank top, boxer shorts and flip flops. My hair was wet and only getting wetter as I ran frantically down the driveway to my car in an effort to get out of the rain. I don't know why it bothers me so - I mean, I do shower regularly.

Morning commute is typically not fun. It is typically even less fun in weather such as this. The sky is shouting down obsenities as it grumbles and churns, all grey and white (which, in this context is really only a lighter shade of grey) - I had on the radio, strangely, and decided quite promptly that this was no morning to tolerate the rantings and ravings of call-in radio shows. I opted for Miles Davis. Let me say one thing (I'll say more than one thing, mind you, but please... allow me this one): Miles Davis makes even the most grueling commute a somewhat pleasurable experience. So here I was, sitting in my Ford Foci in bumper to bumper traffic.

I gazed out at the landscape surrounding me and was amazed at the transformation. All these cars, zipping along and kicking up water like miniature popcorn kernels... even that Dodge Aries over there, the color of rusty water - the kind you would find collecting in an old metal wheelbarrel - looks so sleek and sexy now.

Everyone played a part in the music. This Volvo in front of me is cutting me off, but with STYLE; his blinker flashing in perfect rhythm...rhythm...rhythm...

It was a great commute and it's turning out to be a damn terrific Miles Davis day.

Ba da be bob skiddly do ah!

You know you've lost your corporate sheen when...

What a blissful weekend. I had thoughts of skipping down to DC this weekend but then backtracked when I realized that I had not been home really all week and I was completely exhausted. I really needed to just spend some time doing nothing and seeing no one. Talking to not a single soul. I've changed quite a bit in that manner. I remember when I was 15, my Aunt Martha - my father's sister - bought me a t-shirt that said "Help! I'm talking and I can't shut-up!" (remember all those t-shirts that were so terribly popular in the mid-nineties. Perhaps I'm remembering incorrectly, but it seems to me that everyone was constantly running around with all these t-shirts and their incredibly witty yet irritatingly stupid messages: 'My husband said that if I didn't quit shopping he would leave me... I will miss that man', or 'Why drink and drive when you can smoke and fly?', or 'I suffer from CRS: can't remember shit')?I digress...I did it again - I bought a few more new books. Lolita (which I've been wanting for a long time anyway) and Speaking with the Angel - a collection of short stories. I justified buying this because I figured I never have time to read entire books and short stories would fit a little better into my hectic schedule.I'm going to go down to DC next weekend I think. Apparently there is some sort of party at the Helix. Of course, any party seems like a pretty meager excuse to spend all the time and energy driving down to the District, but this particular party comes at Dr. Brian's suggestion and is being held at the Helix, which really balances out the hideousness of it all. Don't you agree? Good. Agreed upon then. I just finished a blowpop and again, as always, spit out the gum. What is it about that sickeningly sweet, powerpuff pink gum that I just have never been able to tolerate? Not quite sure. Most likely the sickening sweetness and powerpuff pinkness of it. Logic. LOGIC!I'm cracking up at the seams and I'm ashamed to say that I almost enjoy it. It's a new phase of life, something more to observe, learn from, live by... my co-workers don't appreciate it in this way though and why the hell should they? I have a job to do. I've decided though (as recently as TODAY) that I"m going to do that job to the best of my ability. I'm going to do it. Enough with my whining and complaining and overly complacent attitudes. Enough with apathy and general laziness. Enough with being such a damned baby. I am strong even in my weakness. I am bold and tenacious. I am a lover, not a hater. I am a rock, or an island, or other good things that Art Garfunkel said (or any other strangely big-haired music artist). That felt good. I needed that. I'm going to sit down and read for a bit and most likely fall asleep in the process. The sky is a steel-grey today and big fat rain drops have been descending from the heavens for quite a great deal of time. The earth is sloppy and moist with celestial tears and it is making me crave warmth and soft light, and fuzzy socks and even Bigelow French Vanilla tea. I am craving Miles Davis... yes, it is a Miles Davis day. I need Kind of Blue right now - that would make everything complete. Gracious, I love this - mind you, when it comes at the right moment. Today, it has arrived at the right moment. God bless America.

Velocitize (yep, I'm doing it again - making it a word)

Just started another new book (I know! I know! I promised I wouldn't do it. I promised myself!) I have an entirely too huge stack of books that I've not yet read and I promised myself that I wouldn't buy any new books until I finished what I had already. I bought another Dave Eggers installment and began reading it on a drive back from Atlantic City this morning. I'm so excited for mi libro nuevo!!! Yes, I'm a huge dork. But I've really come to accept my dorkiness - embrace it even. Embracing the dorkiness, the dorkdom really. Tis a wonderfully fantabulous thing...It was once said that there is a lid for every pot. True, true... but what if you're tupperware? *sigh* Some of life's questions may NEVER be answered.

Gravity Sucks

And so it has come to this. The point where everything is questioned. Why am I doing what I'm doing? If this is not IT then why am I here to begin with? Argh - so incredibly and disgustingly cliche. It's funny how you despise something your entire life and then finally arrive at the point where it is simply inevitable, you MUST become what you hate because everyone else on the planet is and for a damn good reason too. Shit. I hate it. I hate feeling this way. I hate feeling trapped by something that used to be such a huge part of me. Well, technically it is STILL such a huge part of me, just not as voluntary as before. I'd say that before it was a huge part of who I was - now it is simply everything that I do. I eat, breathe, sleep campaign and I don't want to. I don't want it to consume me. Quite frankly my dear, I just don't give a damn anymore and I hate that too. This is not my life's work. It is not to take control over every ounce of my being. Life is to be pleasant and commodious, not bogged down and hindered. My life's work has GOT to be something other than this. Something beyond all this bullshit. Bush will lose, Bret will win, la-di-da.It sort of sucks that it's come to this. Hmmm.... yeah, it sort of sucks.

the black hills, the blue skies!

The subject is a remnant of my childhood. There was an old Disney movie called "The One and Only, Genuine, Original Family Band". It actually had Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn in it - I think that's the first film they ever did together and how they first met. Goldie Hawn's role was so minimal she was cast merely as "Giggly Girl". Anyway, the movie is a musical and that is a line from one of the songs as all the menly men dance about the place and sing of their beloved Dakota (at the time, a single state).

Speaking of Dakota though, I got a double dose (quite randomly) tonight of Dakota. A call first from Mr. H. Paul which lasted roughly a half hour - it was good to talk to him again. Really good. We've (once again) reached a new level of friendship. It's something between semi-grownup and hopelessly childish. I can't quite decide. He's setting out clear boundaries though by flirting with me, waiting for me to flirt back and then casually mentioning that he and his girlfriend are getting serious. It's very interesting - and then an even more random call from Jozzy. Yes, that's right. You heard correctly... I received a call from Jozzy! I could hardly believe it myself. Who would've thunk? We talked for a good length of time and had a really good conversation. REALLY good. It was... different. Different from any other time that we've spoken anyway. It was like a breath of fresh air. No need for either one of us to talk really, it was just good that we were on the phone, at the same time, and with one another. It connected us, melted us together. It was... good. Pure goodness in the form of a telephone conversation (if such a thing exists). It really was just that: good. I'm glad that we got the chance to catch up a little. It's amazing that we're both in the SAME EXACT SPOT politically and professionally speaking. It's actually almost creepy how similar we are right now. I told him that we're basically the same exact person. Or we might as well be. The same complaints. the same worries. The same desires. Everything is the same. Everything! DAMMIT. I can't get over it. It's great though. And I'm glad that we seemed to bond on this level. I think he'll be calling me a lot more now. I told him to. I told him to feel free to call me anytime he needs to bitch. He said that we should get married. That I should moved out to Iowa, marry him, and then I can work at Wal-Mart and he can work as a cabana boy somewhere serving drinks. I laughed a lot thinking of Jozzy as a cabana boy. It made me smile. It made me smile even more that we're in the same exact spot. At the same stop sign. We have the same rip in our jeans. We're painting our house the same exact color as one another. It's disgusting but creepily pleasant.

I'm getting old. I'm going to bed. I'm talking too much. I'm feeling pretty good about whiter teeth in just 14 days, thanks to Crest White Strips. Ping!

Yenta was a fat, crack ho but I'll take her advice anyway

Alejandra called me this afternoon on my cell phone (again) although she swears that I'm not being charged for the calls because she's making them from her cell phone I'm nearly certain that I'm being charged for SOMETHING because my phone bills have been outrageous lately. Just the same, I miss her something terrible and am always glad when she calls. Her Italian is getting fantastically good and I'm happy that she's getting this experience overseas. For now, I can live vicariously through her. She's having boy troubles, as always. Apparently this Italian boy Dominico, or Francesco, or Sergio, or whatever the hell his name is being a bitch and a total woman. Why is it that Alejandra and I manage to find every womanly man on the planet? We are not high-maintenance. We do not want to talk on the phone to you every night. In fact, if you called us every night we would start to feel smothered. It's the little things, folks. The little things that count. We want to know every once in awhile that someone is thinking of us, but that's it. A quick phone call once or twice a week to say howdy and see how things are. An email or text message letting us know that you're thinking of us. This is it. Wow - that's it. That's all it takes. Pretty amazing, eh? Anyway, we always seem to find these guys that are complete women and insist on calling to have one hour conversations every night or seeing us every night of the week - taking up every second of any spare time that we have. Gosh. I don't want a new life, I just want a new friend. OK OK OK - I'm falling off message here. I did want to type up my lovely little conversation with Alejandra (or make mention of it, anyhow) but I did not purpose to make it the focus of my entire entry. So I digress.

I just talked to Elisabeth moments ago and it looks as thought my little plans for her and Mr. PG might actually work. I've been eyeing to set the two of them up ever since we ran into PG in the Venetian last May. C'mon! After 6 years of never hearing from or about PG and then bumping into him quite randomly in the middle of Las Vegas... it had to happen for a reason. Elisabeth is one of my dearest buddies in the world. I think I would be quite picky about who she ended up with and I must say: I approve of PG. They've been chatting quite a bit lately via instant messenger, email, and cellular telephonic device - every other day or so. I'm glad to hear this. We all made plans to drive to Pittsburgh this summer to spend the weekend with PG and I think that's why they've been talking lately. Of course, I encouraged both of them to call one another. *sigh* it's so exciting. I've already resolved myself to the fact that this is going to be an incredibly girly entry. Ah well... c'est la vie, eh? I'm just sort of excited for ELR and PG, and also a little bored at work. I oughtn't be though - there's a ton of work to do. I have events that need to be scheduled and emails that need to be responded to on top of half a million other things, but here I am, still, motionless, thoughtless, giddy almost, typing in my journal. Because I want to; it's what I want to do right now. I'm looking out for ME this afternoon (and just about every other afternoon, these days). I'm also eating insane amounts of unnecessary sugar in the form of "sour night crawlers" also known as sour gummy worms. These things are the best.

I'll spare you all the rest of this chitter chatter. Perhaps I'll even get back to work.

An astonishing work of fantastic brilliance!

I just finished "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" by Dave Eggers. Loved it. LOVED IT. I want to write like him. I want to write my memoirs. Truth be it told, I want to be nominated for a Pulitzer Prize. Bah. It's in the works, it's in the works. On to the next masterpiece!

mi familia es mi vida

Mom's side of the family is such a train wreck. It makes me sad - and as sad as it makes me, I know it makes her much sadder. She's tried for so many years to be the peacemaker, but they've never taken her seriously. They make fun of her and criticize everything she does. She's the fool, the clueless one, she's naive...

quite frankly, it pisses me off. I hate the way my mom's family is - like distant acquaintences rather than brothers and sisters. My cousins don't know me; don't know that I want to go to art school, barely know that I've been working in politics for the past 6 years, didn't even know that I lived in Indianapolis for two years. And even worse, they don't care. Lord knows that we try. We all try to break past all the awkward conversation at holiday times. We try to give hugs and sometimes even go as far as to throw out an "I love you" only to be met with cold and half-heartedly open arms and a weak, even semi-schocked "love ya too" in return (if they respond verbally at all). I know that they think we're weird, that we're freaks. We are freaks who are freakishly close to one another. We hug eachother, and even kiss eachother. We snuggle on the couch and watch movies or go for long car rides together. We spend time with one another and hang out on the weekends. My siblings are my built-in friends. When the going gets tough, thank God I have family.

Mom said the meanest thing this morning and I think part of it was said out of hurt for her own family and they way that they treat us and respond to us. But she said that the same thing would happen to all of us as we get older. How dare she?! How dare she say such a thing! WHY would she say such a thing?! I think it's important that all five of us make a commitment that this thing, this hideously unbearable thing of growing apart and not knowing one another, this thing of the bitterness, resentment, jealousy, hate WILL never happen to us. We have latin roots. We will be strong and vigilant forever! Our lives will inter-mingle as long as we walk the face of this Earth. Our children will be best-friends with one another. We will love one another. And even if we are someday living at the five points of the earth, we will anxiously anticipate the next coming together that we will all have because in between, we will miss one another so desperately that thoughts of eachother will bring a tear to the eye, a quick sob, a sleepless night...

I can't bear the thought of us growing apart. I would rather one of my siblings dead than estranged. We will all be GREAT! We will make our parents so proud. We will be George Washington, Bill Gates, The Beatles, Mother Theresa!!! We will be the greatest people to ever walk the Earth. We will change the world, we will end terrorism, we will revolutionize science, we will shake and challenge the legislative powers that be, we will be presidents, and astronauts, and surgeons, scientists, and really cool moms. And while doing all this, we will still love eachother madly, and deeply, and get together for cokes and smiles every chance that we get. No, this terrible thing will not happen to us. We are Navarro's.

Bette Midler sings Outkast

I've eaten so much today that I can nearly FEEL myself getting fatter. Bah.
Tony is sitting here right now shining a flashlight in my face and pretending to be a police officer. He's making Kelly lick his nipples. Hoorah.

We were going to go to Clinton Road tonight up in West Milford to drive around and scare ourselves silly, but JC didn't want to go and we didn't necessarily want to go with just Tony. For some unknown reason JUST TONY doesn't sound all that safe or reassuring. He's a nice kid and all, but...

I don't know why we feel it necessary to constantly be scaring ourselves. We've sat around all afternoon reading from Weird NJ and entertaining our sick minds. What sorts of ghosts or goblins inhabit Clinton Road? Satan Worshippers? KKK members? Crazy old women with shoes tied around their necks? Who knows. We were hoping to go there and find it all, to be frightened by it all. We wanted to run, and scream, and peel out with our tires screeching. We wanted to drive out of there like a bat out of hell, screaming as loud as our lungs can voluminate, hearts beating wildly. Or, we just wanted to cruise down the road with tunes blasting to say that WE DID IT. We conquered Clinton Road and without a scratch on us to boot.
I'm 24 years old... why does this stuff still fascinate me so?

Meager efforts

I had a long talk with Amanda yesterday about my wavering emotional status with my job. She seemed to understand but I had a hard time getting past all of the political bullshit to know if she is REALLY talking to me as a friend or as future deputy campaign manager of SFG2005. It's hard to know sometimes. It's sad when you feel like you can't really trust anyone. I hate the fact that I would ever feel that way about Amanda, especially since we've been friends for so damn long, but it's true. I think I'm getting stronger though now. I know that MB is really worried about me - worried that I'll fail them. I'm worried too. How can I accomplish this when I don't even really care about it anymore? That sounds horrible, that I don't care. I hate saying that I don't care. It sounds so empty, so selfish. Like saying "I'm bored". I don't think I've said that since I was about 8 years old. I remember being at summer camp when I was 8 years old and there was a speaker there at one of our chapel sessions. I don't remember much of the things that we learned throughout those many chapel sessions at the three summers I spent at camp, but I do remember this one guy saying that "I'm bored" is the same as "I'm selfish". That stuck with me and I haven't uttered those words since. Ahhhh... the wisdom that I've picked up over the years. :)

At any rate - I have the day off today and it's like I don't quite know what to do with myself. I feel completely out of place with my family's day to day routine. The maintenance guy is here fixing the gaping hole in our kitchen ceiling and he's at home with the rest of my family. He's himself. I have no idea who this man is
- I've never met him. Mom introduced me to him this morning.

Mom: "Jimmy, this is our OTHER daughter, Monica. She works 24/7".
Jimmy: "Yeah. I've never met HER before. Wow. 24/7, huh?"
Mom: "Yeah. She's a real work-a-holic."
Me: (thinking) I'm the farthest thing from a work-a-holic, but that's just fine. *smile, nod, shake his hand*

Time for lunch. I just got back from my "run" (walk just sounds like I'm not really exercising). It's a gorgeous day though and I'm sure glad that I don't have to work.

Spike Lee Major Tom Dick and Harry Connick, Jr. Mints

I'm collecting my senses about work and such. I'm really taking time to think about this decision that I've made. I don't want anything to be knee-jerk. There are times of true bliss at this job - well, true bliss is a bit over-the-top, but there are times of true goodness and I would be dishonest and kidding myself to deny that. However, those times of true goodness are truly few and far between. Most of the time I'm irritated because the big man is late (AGAIN) to an important event and I have to make embarrassing excuses for him, or I'm frustrated because I'm out of gas and out of resources to purchase gas and out of patience waiting for the resources to purchase gas, etc. Mostly I'm simply a huge baby who just doesn't feel like hacking it anymore (most of the time). There are those few moments when I feel like I can conquer the world, I'm on top of my game, I am king of the hill, I AM SPARTACUS! Oh, those moments are so wonderful! I was having one this morning and it was great. I was listening to Maroon 5, Songs About Jane (an album that is very un-typically me in that it gets quite a bit of top 40 radio play) but I was thoroughly enjoying it and feeling like I could turn the Titanic around. It was a good way to be coming into work. Today and yesterday have been my most productive days in quite a while. It makes me sad to think that I've become so lethargic.


I'm almost finished with Dave Eggers' "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius". I'm very pleased with it so far - I want to write like him. I want my books to be Pulitzer Prize finalists... someday.


Alejandra and I are busily making plans to take NYC by storm this summer for the Republican National Convention. Hoo Rah. We're hoping that one Mr. Paul Erickson will be able to assist us in this matter. I just got an email from him this morning - gosh, he's so terribly witty and SEXY. Ugly/sexy that is (did anyone ever see "Kissing Jessica Stein"? Rent it. Watch it. Know what ugly/sexy is all about).


Los dias se estan convirtiendo en mas largos y el brillo del sol mas brillante. Es hora para el resorte DE ESTAR AQUI, no justo "supuesta para estar aqui".

Enchantingly disenchanted

Yes, I'm that annoying type person who is seemingly ALWAYS in a good mood. No matter what happens, no matter what goes down, I am there smiling. If I'm not smiling, I'm carefully contemplating how the situation can be turned into a smiling type situation. I know, I know - it's irratating. But that's just who I am. The Peacemaker. The Problem Solver. The Annoying Happy Girl (I don't giggle though. I will always maintain that I DON'T GIGGLE).
At any rate... Today I'm feeling rather disenchanted and I'm not quite certain why. I guess it's a good thing that I'm confused that I'm pissed off. It's nice that I'm in the position to actually be confused when I'm pissed off.

I'm not entirely certain what the purpose in this entry was...
I'm supposed to talk to Sal today to make a game plan for my departure from ETP. I don't know what to say. Out of all the people I'll have to talk to though, I'm looking forward to talking to the big man the least. He get's back from Korea today and I just really don't want to tell him about me leaving. It makes me almost with that he was the ever-absent boss. The un-reachable CEO. ALMOST.

Everyone is getting married. What am I doing? I'm lowering property taxes. For some reason, I just don't care anymore. It could just be my mood though. :)

I've got my Orange CRUSH

I'm feeling rather verbose today - rather, rather, rather (not so similar to "rabbit, rabbit, rabbit"). haha

Anyway - not very many people would understand that reference I don't think. Anyway - it's a near-perfectly dreary day here in Jersey City and I'm working hard on trying to work hard at my job. It's growing increasingly difficult, unfortunately. :( Amanda and I are scheduling County Kick-off days down in South Jersey and I'm finding it not only boring, but incredibly useless at the moment. Now, I realize that this exercise is not entirely useless - actually, it's probably not even remotely useless... it just FEELS useless.
Ba! I prayed this morning that I wouldn't be like this all day, but here I am feeling not so productive and being lazy.
In other not-so-interesting news, I had a flat tire last night and am now driving around on the funniest looking little donut. haha - only me. The tire needs to be replaced as well as the rim, which is really too bad for me, but, as the French would say: c'est la vie.

Perhaps I really SHOULD have said, "rabbit, rabbit, rabbit" yesterday. Blast.

The Lord, that rose the sun, that woke Dr. Brian, who sent the message that made me smile

What a hideously dreary day! The rain is pouring down from the steel-grey skies and had successfully managed to rinse away all of the empowerment I felt last night while I was running and breathing hard and aching to Daft Punk.

I was beginning to feel on my ride into work this morning that I was going to be disgruntled by choice. I was choosing to be in a bad mood; well, not quite choosing to do so at this point, I was more contemplating. At any rate, the thought and possibility was on the horizon until a little message popped up on my computer screen this morning. It was Dr. Brian wishing me well and extending an open invitation for the next time I should visit ("presuming that you would even want to visit again") how ridiculous, no? :)

I grinned like a fool for the few minutes that we chatted while he informed me that Dawn and Judd, his lovely neighbors, "approve" of me. I felt loved.

I am no choosing to have a good and productive day. Brava!

Kineticity (if this isn't a word, I'm making it a word)

I'm feeling rather tortured right now because Dr. Brian is on call all this week at the hospital and I have not much in the way of communication with him. Of course, I may never hear from him again - who knows? I don't think I've ever quite felt as much like a girl as I do right now. I'm realizing that I've simply never connected with someone in this way before. I think Paul is the only guy that has even come close and that was three years ago. It's always the little things that get you and it's the little things that make me unable to quit thinking of Sunday night. The fact that he was completely uninhibited and 100% himself. The fact that he appreciated me using the word tepid because he's as geeky as I am about words. The fact that he knew exactly what I was thinking and responded appropriately - that part was actually kind of creepy.

I think I'm just over excited to have such a cool, new buddy. He kissed me goodnight and I wonder if it was also goodbye - I certainly hope not. Although, strangely (as incredible a time as we both had) we made absolutely 0 plans to meet again. Absurd? Perhaps. Argh - I really want this week to be over. I want him to call or email me. I want him to feed me a word of the day or tell me that he went kayaking with Isaac. I'm turning into a ridiculously sentimental chick. Argh.