Ticketmaster: Thine Enemy!

Alright, the jig is up Ticketmaster! I am on to you! I'm sharper then Cheddar baby, you can't fool this!

In the most "matter of fact" terms, Ticketmaster is a slut! Oh how she entices you with some of your most beloved artist coming to a town near you and that she is the only thing between you and 500 other people singing the same sweet verse in sync like some powerful children's choir, just less creepy. And oh how simple and easy it "seems". Sssooooo user-friendly (sarcasm if you are that dense). All you need to do is log on at the appropriate date and time and click a few simple buttons and TA-DA, beautiful, coveted golden tickets to the show of your choosing. Right? Right?????

But, Ticketmaster, being the slut that she is, NEGLECTS to tell you that she had already sold a whole bunch of these tickets in a pre-sale. A pre-sale that she holds sacred for the maybe 23 people who have American Express cards. So secretive that you didn't even have a clue that this was happening just a few days, ney HOURS before she promised to give you those tickets that you want so desperately! * Either way, you feel like a fool. Stupidly smiling about your day, keeping an eye on the clock because you have a date with Ticketmaster which will inevitably lead to a second date to the Band of Horses show. You idiot! Wipe that pathetic grin off your face, hate to break it to you but you've been two-timed! Don't believe me? Go ahead, log on at 9am just like she told you to and see what happens when you ask for 2 tickets for the best available, and type in that super cryptic word sensor thing and see what her response will be. I'll wait. Oh, what's that? She cannot meet your request? Wha???? But how can that be? She promised! You my friend have been swindled by the ticket slut. Don't fall completely apart, we've all been there my friend.

But to forewarn you a big meanie named Stubhub is going to add insult to injury. BIG TIME. Apparently there are a whole bunch of losers (who may or may not have an American Express card*) who have nothing better to do with their time then buy up a bunch of tickets to events they have absolutely no intention of going to! Then, in their apparent desperation to make a quick dollar and to get their jollies from ripping off innocent people, they go to Stubhub and re-sell these tickets for astronomical amounts!!! So you wanted to see Jens Lekman for $30, now you will have to shell out $125 to see him. Moo-ha-ha! (their evil laugh) Such a jerk. Just throwing it in your face, that they had a little something-something on the side with Ticketmaster that you had no i-d-e-a about. This is what you get for only wanting to spend a few enchanting hours under the melodies and lyrics of Fleet Foxes.

So your going to go through a lot of emotions. Who can you trust? Is loyalty even a thing anymore? How can people be so cruel? Does "big business" even care about the "little guy"? You are going to feel deserted, and beaten up. But know that you are not alone. We've all missed our promised Santigold, Beyonce, Radiohead, and Florence + The Machine tickets, only to end up in despair. But justice will prevail! We can conquer Ticketmaster. Expose her for what she is. Who's with me???

*A note to American Express card holders, I have no beef with you. I think you are great. But it seems like the only super mega rich have AE cards. So it is safe to say I will never have one. But I love your commercials. Like the ones back in the day with Jerry Seinfeld. Good stuff. Hey, now that we are pals, if you do happen to buy tickets for the Death Cab for Cutie show coming up, can you keep me in mind? Thanks!

Hakuna Matata!

It means no worries!!!! A problem free philosophy:)

Ah.....no worries. Problem free. Can you picture it? It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? But life, oh sweet and wonderful and oh so complex, LIFE. Life does not live by this beloved Disney philosophy. At least not yet! Life, (my life, because EHEM, this is MY blog. My blog, my life. Ego-centric? Maybe just a pinch!) life has more problems then a math book. What is it about the new year that makes you reflect and have the sudden urge to change things? Well, whatever the reason, it has captured me under it's spell. You want to hear my verdict for 2011? Come on, don't be shy. It is completely validated that you are on the absolute EDGE of your seat wanting to know the complete misplaced opinions and facts from a little Midwest girl who transplanted herself to the Big City and has had showers and showers of self-realizations, disappointments, and absurd-life-happenings that MAY or may not be the premise to an AMAZING Wes Anderson indie flick. See what I just did there? I talked so much nonsense and used such fantastic cunning trickery that you suddenly forgot the question. And, I have you hooked! Like puddy in my hand you are! So I will proceed with my far fetched ramblings, thank you kindly:0)

......oh man! Now I forgot what I was talking about! Drat the luck! Hold on, let me collect my thoughts again.

OH! Verdict for 2011! How could one forget? Are you ready for it? 2011 sucked. Period. And, unless my survey has taught me wrong, you agree with me. Woo-hoo, high fives all around! Pat yourselves on the back for one crappy year, frustratingly lived! I don't want this to be a post solely dripping with pessimism, because that is no fun. Were there good things that happened? Of course! I finally found a place to live indefinitely, that I also happen to like very much. I got to go to pioneer school which was incredible. I've met and attached myself to some pretty amazing people. My brother is just killing it at life, which makes me ecstatic! I did a cleanse! I finally got through Wuthering Heights, not a small feat! I mastered how to make a pretty respectable poached egg. I've become less dependent on makeup, sometimes I go days being fresh faced for the world to see. I've scored some fantastic finds at thrift/second hand shops. See, good things. However, looking at the 365 days as a whole, not so many smiles times. 2011 had an air of funky disdain to it that lingered on you. Almost like you couldn't escape it.

I am here, standing before you, or more liked sitting before a screen writing to you, either way, I have a proposition for you, and me! (confused yet?) I shall present it to the audience in a formal, respectful way:

I, author of Kula-La-La and spokesperson for my fellow citizens who are ready to leave the year of 2011 behind, have a proposition for the general public. We refuse to let the bitter after taste of one badly, tragic year ruin or alter in any way our sights and ambitions for the future. We will remember lessons learned, and experiences gained, and relationships birthed, and we will proudly enter into the next chapter of life with these new features, but not carrying any of last year's baggage. We will accomplish. We will conquer. We will prevail. We will acquire many moments of happiness and try to the best of our ability to expand these to their absolute limits. We will allow ourselves to have a bad day if needed, but we must leave that day within those 24 hours and not let it attach itself to us and spread like gruesome gang green of life and over take us. We will detach ourselves from what is not necessary or helpful, and instead we will grab hold on to what is essential and things making for joy. We will approach this new blank canvas with hope in our hearts, determination on our brains, and maybe a cupcake and a butterfly or two in our stomachs. We will proceed with optimistic caution knowing full well that we got this! 2011, who needs you? All those in favor say "EY!"

If all else fails (but remember we are thinking positively now) I have decided to adopt the mantra of childhood memories Timon and Pumbaa. When life gets to you, just remember Hakuna Matata, oh what a wonderful phrase!

Exhaustion From the Depths (Or How a Non-Cryer Has Spent 2+ Weeks as a Weepy Mess)

Just as a side-note, the title of this post is not an over dramatization. I have quite literally, and pathetically (I might add), been on the edge of a sob storm at any moment of any day ever since I've gotten back from Michigan. And, I don't cry. Ever. To borrow a line from Julia Roberts, "I think there is a good possibility that I am profoundly and irreversibly screwed up!" I have fallen into the deep pit that is my family and all of it's madness and antics and I haven't been able to escape back out of it. On one hand, it is not completely their fault. I am a big girl now, I can say no and yes, and can make decisions about my life all on my own. It's not as if someone has forced me to get involved in all the saga like plots that have fallen upon my familia. And no one else is controlling the way that I am choosing to deal with it. My state of being an emotional voided rebooting zombie robot who pushes people away is something that I came up with all on my lonesome. (proud smile) So DON'T try to copy it, I've got it Trademarked! So you will have to pay me handsomely if I find out that you are shadily stealing my coping mechanisms! Okay, so yea, yea. It's not COMPLETELY their fault. But in some ways it IS their fault. (John, if you are reading this, please stop right here. Know that I am not talking about you, just the two other grown ups and that crazy loon of a sister)

I have come to the conclusion that there are times when life is just so not fair. Now I'm NOT talking about when you want to throw yourself a good ole fashion pity party and have a big tantrum about how life is just so unfair to a little beautiful princess like you! (gag) However, I am referring to those crystal clear moments when the sun hits everything just right and for but an instant you see how blindingly unfair and complex life can be. So basically, to fill you in, I went back home, not for me, but for my family. I went there so I could, to quote my mother, "You need to come here to encourage your Dad, and John, and me! We NEED you here!" And so I went. I went to live up to the role I so stupidly assigned myself as The Protector. I went because my family seemed so desperate for me to be there. I went because this is what I do, Amanda goes and holds it together so everyone else can fall apart. I went because I am an idiot. The only reasons that I went for my own selfishness was to see my brother, and to go through all my crap that was still there. (Sidebar-I am happy to report that I officially have nothing left in Michigan!)

Being there, I got to witness first hand what an anxious ball of nerves my father has become. I have never seen him look so old before. He would sit in his chair with his jacket on, hat on, and shoes on-being fully ready to move into instant action IF the moment ever called for it. He would jump at the slightest noise, and scope out every car that would drive by. He would not just relax. The saddest thing about it all, my dad made zero time for me. And zero effort in even acting like he wanted to spend time with me. So my mother pleading that my father "needed me", a lie perhaps? Yes, he did the quintessential him, and drove me back and forth to my ride, but that was it really. Even when he 1st picked me up, we were in the car not even 5 minutes when the phone rings and he picks it up and proceeds to have like a 7 minute non important conversation, neglecting to tell his friend "Hey, Amanda just got in. I'll call you back." Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I get it, I know there is a lot of big, monumental things taking place in Monroe, but you haven't seen me since March, and you complain all the time about how much you "miss" me, and then I am finally right here, for you, and nothing. Even just sitting with you in the living room for those 12 minutes waiting for Mom, you did not have one single thing to say to me except, "I don't know sometimes, Amanda. I just don't know." Well, right back at you Pops! I don't know about you either. And that hurts.

Then there is the complex and fantasy living creature: my mother. Sometimes she has this special way about her that in a matter of moments she can go from the most dramatic to most level headed person in the world. My whole life I have been plagued with the feeling that no matter what I do, my mother will never be satisfied with it. She is un-satisfiable in so many ways. (I have a sneaking suspicion that at times.....I am like that also. Dang it!) She also has the skills to somehow twist and turn everything around, and make it about her. It truly is an art the way she does it. And you just know, right when you are in the middle of it, and you watch it all unfold in front of you in the beautifully tragic way. Somehow you saying, "I can't handle this because of X, Y, and Z" ends up with her in an emotional rant about all that she does and has done and how she is on her last nerve, and you feeling like a complete monster. The truth is, not EVERYTHING is about you. Have you ever really heard what I am trying to tell you? Do you ever just listen to what your children are saying? There are some truths at the heart of it that I think you need to hear.

I love my family. There is no denying that. We all collectively share one heartbeat. But I am angry at some of the things they choose to be and do. I dropped everything in New York to go home and hold my family's hand. Then when I return back to my life in the wake of all that has happened, and I don't know how to register all the things that I am feeling, who is here to hold my hand? Where are you guys when I need you? You were up my butt for like 2 weeks before I came, pressuring me to come, and now that I'm back home, nothing. Not a phone call, not a text, email, SOS, smoke signal, snail mail, carrier pigeon....nothing. The kicker is that I can't even be 100% honest with you, because if I was to tell you, "no, I'm not doing alright", you would not be able to handle it. I realize now that that is most likely the reason why you don't truly ask. You are afraid of what the answer might be. And how do we operate in a world where I do not have it together? I don't know. I've been struggling with that ever since I left. Guess what? I am not okay. I don't even know where to begin fully in all the things that are so NOT okay with my life currently. And the one people that I would like to count on right now, my family, I can't. See, life is so not fair. Hence, why when I start to feel like a confused mess of a stranger to myself, I push people away. I retreat.

When you get broken, it is easier to start seeing the cracks in the foundations all around you. I push because I am scared. I scared at what I may say or do that could potentially hurt you. But mainly, I'm scared that you could hurt me. Such is life to be let down by the ones you love the most. In my mind though, if I keep you at a safe distance, you can't let me down. You can't hurt me. It's funny, because by doing this, to keep hurt away from all players I might add, I still end up hurting people. So on top of everything else, I must now go around handing out apologies to people and promising soon I will be back to normal just to make them feel better, even though I myself don't even believe the words I just said. I am worried that some of the people I considered to be true friends, in it for the long haul, the thick of it, rain or shine or hurricane, no matter what-they are there. They might actually be more like fair weather friends. Only in the relationship when it is most convenient for them. But when you are bottomed out and beaten up and the ugliest version of yourself, they are no where to be found. I don't need people too often, so when I do and they are not there, it stings. Stings like acid in a deep gouge in my chest cavity. I guess pressure is good if for nothing else but showing people's true characteristics. Maybe I just have the habit though of expecting people to be someone that they simply aren't.

Who's That Girl?

Let me give you a hint: It's not yours truly. Sigh. And, yes I know what you are thinking. YES! I am in fact in a funk, deal with it muchachos! I'm sorry, I don't mean to take it out on you, you did nothing wrong. My apologies. I suppose it would be rude of me to lay this all you before I give you any type of background explanation, so let me explain.......uh, er, let me sum up. Life has been less than amazing, more than frustrating, and all around exhausting. Family: Crazy/Complicated. Work: Monotonous and Unfullfilling. Personal: Terribly Lacking. Yep, all players are here and accounted for! Brace yourselves, I am about to get SUPER girly here. I am bummed out that I am not one of those girls that can make guys fumble and drool over themselves. Alright, yea I get it. I am not 6 feet tall, with legs for days and perfectly toned arms, and skin color that looks like I live on some island and have some type of "goddess-esque" air about me. But that's just it, I've NEVER been "that" girl. It has either a) never occurred to me before or, b) never bothered me before. Oh how I long for the days when I was blissfully unaware of what a plain-jane-dud-poison-to-men-girl I really am!

Debi made a comment to me, something on the lines of "do you think you are possibly one of those girls that always attracts guys?" And of course, my reaction was major denial, and laughter. (side note: I do not know how to receive compliments. You tell me my hair looks good, I'll tell you it's really dirty and disgusting. It's apparently a "problem") But my reaction was genuine. I don't think I am one of "those" girls who always seems to have a guy totally vibing on her. However, let's all be honest ladies, I think we all WANT to be that girl. And, in my case, even though I knew it wasn't true, I think I secretly thought maybe in SOME way, shape, or form, in an alternate universe, I was in fact one of those girls! Or at least, had the potential to become one. Crazy, I know. Geez Amanda, how do you fit thru doors with that ego of yours?!?? But then that got me thinking about all the supporting males that have been cast in the "love" section of my life and I have come to a very simple verdict. None of them have actually liked me. Now, don't go feeling all sorry for me or think that I'm just fishing for a compliment. Don't, and I'm not, honestly. Maybe this is just my insecurities talking, but there is that chance that I am unlikable. When I take a closer look, most of the so called relationships that I have had, have been played out mostly in me ole noggin. Maybe, just maybe things that go unsaid, aren't the most impactful simple truths that are the hardest to say, and need to be clung to like the last boat off the Titanic. Maybe they weren't said because they weren't there, they weren't felt. Simple as that.

It has been a very long while since I was told "I like you." And, I don't care how dependant you are, or how in order your life is, or anything else. Those three sweet words can do something truly beautiful to you. It's like a shift in the earth, now there is somebody who has studied you, looked you over, took much thought, and allowed its heart to attach itself to you and all your nonsense that makes up you. They are willing to look over all the mess and are willing to put themselves out on a line and confess that which can never really be taken back. They are sincerely intrigued by you. You feel like something, because someone else has picked you out. That feeling is matched by very few things in this world. But, oh wait, wait, wait there Ms. Kula!

When is the last time you've said those very words to someone? Yea, it's been awhile since that one too.

Hey all the fellas out there that truly want to help a girl out. I could use some advice here!

The Insufferable Child on the 4th Floor!

4J is PUSHING their luck! BIG TIME! Riddle me this: what kind of idiots who birth an obnoxiously loud spawn that does not have any other type of movement octave besides stomping, decide to rent an apartment on any floor above ground level? What kind of evil master minds do that??!? This little 3-4 year old beast that lives right above me does NOTHING but run and stomp from one end of the apartment, to the other, all the live long day! So there is no escaping it. If I am home and he is home, there is no where that I can go to get away from the psychotic tyrant that inhabits the space above me!

And seriously parents, what is the matter with you? Growing up we were never, let me repeat for emphasis, NEVER allowed to run in the house. And we didn't even have downstairs neighbors! Running in the house was not gonna fly with Sue Kula, uh-uh, no way! That, and slamming doors, and if she called you, you were not just supposed to shout "what?", you needed to go and see what she wanted. The parents living upstairs apparently have no concept of respect, kindness, or even proper apartment living etiquette'! Shame on them for not knowing or caring! By the sound of it, you are hoping to rear your child to become a dictator of some sort, judging by the way you excuse (encourage?) the stomps coming out of little feet. That brings up another point, he is such a small child, how is it physically possible for so much noise to be coming from something so small??

And somehow my roomie is completely un-phased by all the hub-bub upstairs. I don't know how that is even possible, maybe she is a robot. Great, so I have a stomping monster upstairs, and a mechanically engineered "thing" living with me. But anyways, my robot roomie says that it would be rude or "unnecessary" for me to be the little old lady that I desperately want to be and take out a stick and bang the daylights (ha!) out of my ceiling aka-their floor to let them know that I have HAD IT! And to knock it off! Rude? Really? THAT would be rude? Not the fact that their child's refusal to walk lightly like a normal human isn't rude? Me no compute that. I feel like a gentle reminder that there is a freakin' park right across the street, where homeboy can run his little heart out, is a nice, neighborly thing to do. You know how there is the Better Business Bureau, to keep businesses in check when they start thinking they do no wrong? I feel like initiating a Better Upstairs Neighbor Bureau, that can come in and shut them down when they be acting like straight fools! That seems like a lot of work. Is getting a law passed that occupants with children are only allowed to live in bottom floor apartments for the happiness and well-being of all, any easier? Or maybe I could somehow kindly let myself into the place when they are not home, this is not considered "breaking in" if it's for the right reason-I have that on good authority, and somehow lay down sound reducing padding across their entire apartment! Because folks, all Amanda wants to hear is the pidder padder of little feet, not the stomps of a T-Rex man baby monstrosity! Kula OUT!

I Think We Should Go On a Break..

Let me just start out by saying that I love people. I really and truly do. I mean how big of a hypocrite would I be if I, a die hard Barbra Streisand fan, did not live by the mantra of "people who need people, are the luckiest people in the world!"?!?! That would be so very, very uncool of me to sing out those words, but not actually feel them. I want to do good ole Babs justice! Make her proud! People are the bread and butter of life! They make my world go round!

However, (ehem)......I think we need a break from each other. You know I love you, but lately I think our relationship has just turned toxic. More and more of you are becoming unbelievably rude and obnoxious, and so many different levels of annoying it makes my skin crawl. Whatever happened to common courtesy? Taking on more responsibility at work is not helping the situation. Having to talk to attorney after attorney, who are so high up their own butts it is any wonder they even know what fresh air smells like, really makes my day go so deep down into the pits I come out the other end looking and feeling like Eeyore. Listen up jerk wad! You are an idiot! We provide services for YOU, not the other way around. Tell me, is it really that difficult for you to tell me what address you are currently occupying? You don't even have to say that. All you need to say is Yes, or No to the address I just rambled off. You don't give out that type of info? REALLY?!?!?! How do your clients EVER find you, if you never tell anyone your address? You do realize I can just Google you right? What a genius you are to have passed the BAR but can't figured out how to use Google! You sir are a MORON! And I hereby delete you from our client list! Yea, that just happened! What are you gonna do about it? NOTHING, cause I won't give you my address! :P

Living in this city I think is adding to the pressure. I'm starting to feel it's not good to have so many people shoved and on top of each other in such a small square mile. My faith in humanity is very slowly seeping out of me with every backpack that touches me on the train, every person who suddenly stops short on the sidewalk, every person who shouts obscenities down my block at 3 am on a Tuesday night, and the countless rude things that come flying out of people's face flappers all the live long day! I just can't take it anymore. I barely had any patience to begin with, but all this extra crap is stretching that little bit, to it's absolute max! We are running on fumes here people! FUMES!

That is why I am suggesting a break. I know that I do love you, real deep down in my gut, or heart, or butt, or wherever. But right now, I just can't stand the sight of you. I know I want to spend forever with you. But right now, I need you as far away as possible. Just give me a little space to clear my head and to relearn all those reasons why I love you so much. So let's just leave it as a: I'll see you when I see you:)