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two roads diverged in a yellow wood…

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth…

I know it probably pains you to read those words since they’ve been quoted ad nauseum, but it probably pains me EVEN MORE to be the one quoting Mr. Frost!  I am in PAIN blogheads.

BUT as it is probably one of the few poems that everyone on earth has heard, I tend to think that speaks to the truth of it.  However, I sort of resent the fact that though the subject matter is so relatable, homeboy does nothing to enlighten us as to what constitutes ‘the one less traveled by’ (although I think this was the tricky bastard’s point)–perhaps this is why I once became frustrated with poets and turned to the dudes with the answers, aka philosophers. But I digress.

I am currently trying to look down two roads as far as I can, and although I feel as though I can “see” fairly far, it does nothing to clarify the course I should take.

Generally, the way I make decisions is by not making them until I absolutely must, at which point I am forced to do what I probably wanted to do anyway, if that makes sense.  Case in point: taking a year off from my educational program.  I “thought it over” for months, and decided at the last second–but deep down, I must have known what I wanted to do all along.  That decision was antithetical to many of my ideas about myself–and shocked pretty much everyone I know–but I feel it was the right thing to do, and certainly what I wanted to do, although I think I was afraid to admit that I wanted it.

That is what worries me about myself–I’m never entirely sure if I feel I want certain things because I am supposed to want them, of if they are actually things that I desire within myself.  In many ways, I fear it is the former–I mean, truly, academia excites and enthralls me, but I cannot envision myself devoting my life to it.  I would be just as happy being a professor at a community college as I would be if I were to become tenured at an ivy–or would I?  Would you?  I mean we’re all supposed to want to be at the top of our game, no?

I’ve always been very ‘ambitious’ etc., but now, my ideas about what I want my life to look like are somewhat different than they have been in the past–and probably somewhat more realistic.  For example, I love children more than anything and I have always dreamed of having a ton of children; however, it is rather difficult to do that if you choose a career that involves incredible and perhaps somewhat abnormal dedication.  I always assumed that I could figure it out, that I could find a way to make time for family and my work, but in reality, I know that something will have to give–it’s hard for me to even have a relationship whilst studying at uni–and I cannot imagine it would be much different if I were a faculty member.

At the same time, I love my field and I really think that I could make a difference within it.  It invigorates me and excites me in a way that most things do not.  And in a lot of ways, I cannot excogitate a future more fulfilling than one that involves a lifetime spent in a high-level intellectual environment, teaching and studying what I love.

All of this is sort of converging upon me right now because Lover has been offered a professorship, and he is so very thrilled and deserving and I am so happy for him, but it is in Vermont.  He wants me to move with him, with the argument that I could continue my education in a different program–but, my current program is amongst the best in the country (if not the best) and I am not sure if giving that up is something I am capable of.  The other option is of course that he works as an adjunct until I finish my program, but I am not sure I feel even remotely comfortable with that idea either.

So what do you do?  We’ve done the long distance thing, but it sucks.  I’m also so young that even though I am fairly certain I am never going to find anyone that even comes close to the person that he is, I do not think it is wise to be planning my life around another person at this stage of the game–something that I think he neglects to appreciate, being several years older than I.

Yet, I am somewhat terrified of being thirty or forty years old and a great success in my field, and coming to the sad realization that I shouldn’t have compromised so many other wonderful things for something that is, ultimately, rather trivial.  Of course, then I could just comfort myself by saying that I took the road less traveled by, right? :)

Why is it that my life seems to be made up of one existential crisis after another?!  I mean…is that what existence is supposed to entail?

If anyone happens to read this and would like to share how they reconcile their professional/educational selves with their personal selves, I am listening! (God?)

x C

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big ups to my rodent friends

Today has been a very tragic day for me.

Basically, I grew up with five brothers.  It was pretty chill, except when I wanted to talk about flowers and princesses.  Enter my need for other friends.  So, after watching a number of Disney films, I decided that if I was nice enough to animals, they’d start speaking to me and become my friends…

sadly I am still working on this lifelong quest!  Apparently creatures are quite shy!

Sometimes my deep and enduring love for animals causes problems.

Like when I spent much of my free time during college collecting mouse traps around my dormitory and befriending the ‘pests’ – my friends quite enjoyed retelling these tales.  Once they got over their anger.

Also, LIKE TODAY.

I was at work when suddenly my coworker started screeching as though she’d taken a ninja star to the external jugular.  Accordingly, I ignored her.  Thus, she got up in my grill and explained that she’d seen a mouse and was pretty much grossly overreacting.  That said, I’m not going to lie, I am freakishly afraid of bugs, to the point where I actually moved house after seeing one because I became terrified of the place.  So yeah, I’ve got some crazy related to little unwanted houseguests (a term I coined/copyrighted in France because I didn’t know the word for mouse!  Terribly cleva, I know!) so I felt her pain.

However, I think mice are adorable and awesome little friends – but homegirl disagreed and wanted to get a mouse trap.  SO I offered to go, because I wanted to at the very least find a trap that would keep my new little buddy safe until we were reunited!

This is where things get really sad, so please be prepared with Kleenex…

when I got to the store, things took a very evil turn.  THERE WERE NO ‘HAVE A HEART’ TRAPS.  At this point, I felt I had a moral obligation to my coworker who was probably freaking out like a madwoman in my absence, and I knew going to another retail location would be unfair to her and her unnecessary anxiety.

SO, I HAD TO BETRAY THE ANIMAL KINGDOM.

Believe me friends, this gave me no joy, and I feel very guilty for this harsh backstabbing of my little mousey friend.

I really feel I had no choice but I would like to request that all who read this purchase the NON-HOMICIDAL traps if you find yourself dealing with some little animals in the future, AS A PERSONAL FAVOUR, SO THE COSMIC BALANCE OF THE UNIVERSE CAN BE RESTORED.

Thanks and have a great day!

x C

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my very own FML

I’ve been kind of a delinquent blogga, for this I am sorry.  There’s been tons of shizz going down in my life, and I haven’t really had the opportunity to reflect on any of it yet, so it seems a bit preemptive to try to write about it!

the demon child

the demon child

Nonetheless, I’d like to share a story with my dear blogheads.

Last weekend, I was chilling with Lover’s evil family.  There is one person I like in his family, and that would be his 8 year old nephew.  I really miss working with children and the levity they inject into my life, and Lover’s nephew is pretty much the only kid I know, so I’m forever kidnapping him from his parents (read: nanny)  to encourage  diabetes and watch children’s films (since no one else will watch them with me/engage in deep discussions on the awesomeness of gummy things.)  So, homeboy and I chill quite a bit.

Anyway, he came up to me during the family gathering/phony fest, and asked me if I wanted to play a game with him.  I replied with, ‘Don’t ask me!  I hate kids!!’…assuming that an 8 year old would understand the subtleties of my sardonic nature.  Lover tells me this is where I went wrong.

I’m still not 100% sure but I think the bugga was trying to punk me, because when dinner time rolled around, the little rugrat decided to yell loudly in front of about 20 people, ‘I’m not sitting next to her!  She hates kids!  She told me!’

Everyone just stared at me as though I were docta evil, except for Lover of course, who started laughing.  This obviously made us look even more normal.  I just said, “I was kidding…” awkwardly and sat down.

What I really wanted to say: fuck my life.

Going forward, I shall refrain from trying to amuse myself by saying cracked out shit to eight year olds.

x C

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looney tunes!

When I started this blog, it was principally to share the things I find amusing in my barista life!  I haven’t really been a barista very much lately due to travel etc. but I did get to work this week, so I wanted to share with you some of the crazies that were on the creep that day.  (If you couldn’t tell, weird/crazy people=my main source of amusement in life.)

There are a number of regulars whom we all know and talk about/become amused by.  Moreover, the environment of the coffeeshop where I work is very informal and has a bar where we, the employees, usually kick it; this also causes certain customers to post up at the bar with us (usually for hours) and hang out.  Sometimes this is cool, as I totally dig many of our customers.  Some of them, however, bother me in a variety of ways, from being plainly annoying to being a bit frightening.  Also,  I did not change their names for the purpose of this weblog, this is how my coworkers and I refer to each of these people–I don’t feel the need to change their names since their behaviour I am discussing is done in public and in view/earshot of many strangers.  Sue me.  (But, actually, please don’t.)

One of our regulars is ‘Wet Cappuccino Charles‘.  I’m not sure how to describe him really except to say that he quite possibly possesses the greatest degree of social ineptitude I have ever seen, and a lot of my coworkers compare him to “Dwight Shrute” from the US version of the televison programme “The Office”, whom I must say he resembles in both behaviour and appearance.  He is hilarious in the sense that he has no problem broadcasting his crazy opinions (he’s an intenselty right-wing conspiracy theorist type, and is extremely paranoid) and getting him fired up is always entertaining.

Anyway, he usually comes in several times per week and stays for hours because he is not employed–in fact, he is constantly inquiring as to whether we have any ‘temp work’ available.  He is honestly like a caricature!  Unfortunately he also frightens me a bit because he asked for my email address shortly after I made his acquaintance (and before I grasped the depth of his craziness), and I have a folder labeled just for him on my gmail account…in other words, he sends me about 10 emails each day.  Fun! Also, slightly alarming. :)

One of our new regulars is the ‘Klonopin Queen‘.  There are a number of people whom I suspect of being pill-poppers due to their dazed and confused facial expression and inability to converse at a normal rate, but homegirl takes the cake.  Not only is she dazed and confused all the time, but she also likes to hang out for hours, talk about how awesome klonopin has been for her (it has helped her handle her demon child) and also likes to PASS THEM OUT.  Like tic-tacs.  ‘One for you, one for you, one for you’ is what we say when one of us sees her coming.  Because that is what she does…sings along and passes out DRUGS like a deranged mother goose.

Another fun discovery upon my return to the coffee shoppe was that I have a new coworker, ‘Bipolar Bridget’. Bridget immediately revealed to me her psychiatric history and the fact that she’s no longer medicated (this much was obvious)–she then proceeded to do all sorts of cracked out shit, such as singing Disney songs at the top of her lungs (in the middle of a coffee shoppe…who does that?) and writing signs of ‘things she wanted to tell me’.  Example: she made a colorful and detailed sign that said “who are the backstabbers around here?” that was slightly violent in nature.  The crazy customers are bad enough, but now I must spend several hours with someone who is clearly under the influence of drugs OR extra, extra crazy.  Either way, she’s a looney tune.

The people I’ve met (and there are a lot more, those were just the ones that rolled up that DAY) are people I did not know existed.  I’m somewhat interested in humans/people in general, so from reading about them and you know, being alive, I thought I had a decent grasp of human behaviour–HOW WRONG I WAS.

And my mum said being a barista was a waste of time!

Anyway, back to work, have a great day blogheads! :) :) :)

xx Charlee

ps: sincerest apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors, I had to type this rather quickly because I have a deadline in a few hours!!! try not to let it upset you too much kids ;-)

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verbatim

Weird shit people have said to me recently.

“It’s not that you’re a bitch…you’re just…overly nonchalant.”


Well, you sure seem to enjoy drinking quite a bit!” (weird attempt at conversing by Marley’s unlikely lover, whom I hardly know and did not wish to talk to)


“You were such a weird child…and then I signed you up to become a cheerleader, because I thought that would make you more normal…(awkward trail off)” — Mother


“You were purposely trying to use words she doesn’t know!” –My brother, in reference to his wife not knowing the word “optimal”


“If you suck, you suck.” (note: this was not meant hypothetically, but said rather cheerfully)


…and people wonder why I tend to make rude facial expressions so often! It’s also hard to properly capture the absurdity of these statements without the applicable tone of voice/being able to see the person saying them, but yeah, what a whack attack, right?

How the fuck do you even reply to these comments?  People are ridiculous.

x C

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it’s not easy being green: yes, we cannabis

Stealthy as a socialist,

It slithers up our shores,

Turning all our children into hooligans and whores!!

Please enjoy a clip from one of the best films ever made:

Yup, this posting is about weed.


I’m not sure I have explicitly stated this, but I am a fan of the green.  Before you dismiss me as another stoned slacker, (which, to be sure, I wish I were), I actually don’t smoke pot anymore on any sort of regular basis, if ever.  However, I was quite the pothead back in the day.  Don’t judge me.  All the cool kids were doing it.

Thus, the green has a special place in my heart, and I hate that it has been so mistreated.

During one particularly bong-hit ridden day during college, I took it upon myself to venture to the biomedical library to do a little research.  You see, I had been smoking mary j mutiple times per day for a few years, and the thought occurred to me that maybe it wasn’t the best idea.  Yes, it took me a few years to even conceive of this notion.  What can I say–I was too busy focusing on visual stimuli.

But why is smoking pot a bad idea?  I’m very much the sort of person who does things unless I can think of a good reason why not to do them–I feel that life is meant to be an experience and therefore pretty much any experience in worthwhile in my book.  But, I digress.

I went to the library to find the straight dope (pun intended-I’m so fucking clever) on cannabis. The biomedical library was a majestic place because it allowed one access not only to published information, but also to research that was in progress or not published, for whatever reason (I obviously objectively evaluated the validity of the articles I read to be sure that if it was not published, it was not due to erroneous data/procedure/etc).  And the bottom line is: I found out that pot really isn’t all that bad for you.  In terms of long-term effects, it has less than I had previously thought–and there were even marked POSITIVE effects of THC.  Fancy that, bitches! (Government bitches, that is.)

Nerd moment: because I am feeling a little ambitious today, I am going to share with you two things.  One: in the case of neurodegenerative/neuroinflammatory disorders, cannabinoids are a helpful therapeutic intervention (Gordon, Jabri, and Underwood, 2006).  Two:  Although multiple studies have found impairments in multiple areas of functioning whilst under the influence (like, duh),  the effects of long-term, frequent use remain inconclusive–that is, there are findings that dispute one another (Messinis, 2006).

In other words–pot has been proven to have some positive effects, and its possible (alleged) negative effects have not been clearly/properly/extensively documented.

Yet…it’s still illegal.

The illegality brings in all sorts of sociopolitical considerations when one chooses to burn the devil’s leaves–and guess what those considerations usually do?  Kill one’s buzz, obviously.

So what is the solution?

That is an interesting conundrum.  I don’t know that there is one.  My friends and I were discussing the fact that LOTS of people smoke pot…and I do mean LOTS…yet no one really wants to openly talk about it or try to effect change in this arena.  I can’t say I’m too keen on the idea of publicly associating my name with reefer–even though I love it like a pothead loves cake.

And why is that?  Because of closeminded, judgemental people.

The general idea that pot is SO terrible is not even founded, and actually causes more problems than it counteracts, in my opinion.  A perfect example is the fact that for many professions, random drug testing is involved.  THC stays in one’s system at detectable levels far longer than other harder drugs…I have had friends actually tell me that they stopped smoking pot because of drug testing, only to start hitting up the yay pretty hard.  Now THAT is effective substance control.  BRAVO, strategists for the ‘war on drugs’.

All of this said, I know some people reading this will write me off as some crazed stoner.  It boggles my mind that people in our society can possibly be so judgemental about marijuana, yet think nothing of the exorbitant amount of prescription drugs being prescribed after extremely minimal evaluation, or even the incredible prevalence of alcohol use in our society.

I can’t precisely recall where I got this idea (so it may or may not be based upon fact, although I’m 80% sure it is, hah!) but I am under the impression that the short-term stresses of alcohol upon the body, as well as the long-term effects of prolonged indulgence in adult beverages, put more physiological strain on the body than marijuana use.  I think this is true to a certain extent neurologically as well, but at the very least, alcohol and marijuana are comparable in terms of the scope of their effects on the brain.

Subjectively, I can say wholeheartedly that I have never done things I regret whilst stoned (not the case when I get my hands on too many tequila shots), and to be frank, I don’t feel as ‘fucked up’ whilst stoned as I do when I am drunk.  In fact, a significant reason why I am such a fan of the pot is the fact that it stimulates me cognitively, and has thereby caused me to have really interesting experiences, whereas alcohol causes intoxication through the inhibition of cognitive function–yielding some experiences that could be called ‘interesting’ in a different sense entirely.

This is by no means an exhaustive examination or discussion, as I think there are multiple other scientific (i.e. biological/physiological/neurological) facets of pot smoking, as well as various sociopolitical elements of the issue–these are just my immediate thoughts on the subject, as for me, writing in my weblog is a way of organizing my thoughts more than it is an attempt to construct a properly written assessment! Even so, I hope that if you actually read this whole thing, you found it (somewhat? mildly?) informative and as intriguing at I tend to!

(And, for the record, I don’t advocate smoking pot in excess, because anything in excess is not a good idea.  And furthermore, in case you’re wondering, a major reason why I don’t smoke pot anymore is because I observed changes in certain areas of cognitive function which were consistent with the documented effects of long-term chronic marijuana use…so I’m not saying it’s all good.  I just think the demonisation of the practice of toking up is too much.)

What are your thoughts on this issue?

xx Charlee

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i am the queen of indecision

Sorry I have been MIA from blogga world!   That is partly because I’ve been very busy (barf) but also because a few rather difficult events have occurred recently in my life, and it’s hard to write about something relatively trivial when someone (or in my case, someoneS) that you love are going through serious sh*t.  At the same time, to try to write about the intense life-and-death events that have recently occurred is quite difficult also–I actually find writing rather therapeutic and began to write a posting about the things that have happened, but then I started to question if I really felt comfortable putting that much of myself–that much incredibly personal information–out into the world.

I’m an incredibly private person, and I know that is something people say fairly often, but I really am exceptionally private to the point that I’ve been called ‘secretive’.  It’s not that I really go out of my way to keep things to myself, it’s just that I don’t understand others’ expectation to be privy to the goings-on in my life; this is something that seems to really bother a lot of people in my life, but one has to wonder why our society has become one where everyone’s entire lives are completely public and “out-there”.  Since when did it become normal to chronicle our entire lives for our friends–and even strangers, and why has it become the norm to expose oneself rather intimately, seemingly without a second thought?

Seriously–facebook, myspace, weblogs–how much of yourself do you put on the internet for all to see?  I find facebook quite invasive, and to be frank, a bit freaky, but it’s basically unavoidable.  That said, I rarely use it and don’t really have very much information/photos/etc. on there, nor will I become “friends” with someone on there unless I know them incredibly well.  Facebook has long freaked me out, and I did have a weblog before this one, but it was anonymous.  Oddly enough, until recently, I hadn’t given a second thought to the implications of having a weblog and writing about my entire life, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.

For some reason, to me, it feels as though putting certain aspects of my life out there for public consumption trivializes them.  This is just another way that I seem weird to my friends apparently, but it happens to be a facet of who I am that the nature of things and the philosophy behind many aspects of my existence consumes me at times.  I just feel like I need to own my life and my relationships–and I know that one might wonder how sharing things with people changes that–and I suppose in reality, it doesn’t, but the idea of speaking casually and nonchalantly about the things that are dear to me–the things in my life that I consider sacred–just isn’t appealing to me.  I’d rather not discuss them at all.

Not to mention–it isn’t anyone’s fucking business…I couldn’t care less about the details of my friends’ relationships, etc. (unless of course they are seeking advice or comfort or whatever) so I don’t know why they not only care about that information, but seem to think I am obligated to share it.

Part of the reason I am so weird about this could be that I come from a somewhat public family, and I probably on some level resent that, even if I don’t consciously think I do.

Anyway, I will most likely get over this soon, because I do enjoy writing on here and it is rather cathartic in a lot of ways.  Sometimes my crazy need for privacy just becomes extra intense, or as my therapist would say, I have ‘intimacy issues’ at times.

Hope all is chill with you, blogga-buddies! :)

xx Charlee

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