Posts Tagged ‘St. Charles’

(Note: I originally tried to hide this from third parties, but because of the drama and hurt I caused with it, I’m putting it fully into the open.  I better ready myself for deleting the spam comments.  There will be a follow up blog or two to explain some actions.  But you won’t see the full repercussions.)

Woah.  Just woah.  Where the hell have I been?  Has it really been more than two weeks since I updated?  Have I really said ‘ef it’ to everything online?  Yeah, turns out.  Somehow, I’ve ended up with only two public posts so far in May, which is a major turn around from my average of twelve, post-non-depression.  Oh wait, I’m sorry, let me put that in layman terms: I posted a shit tonne when I was depressed and stressed with school.  Now, I just sit in my room and internet around, or I’m flitting off with friends, having adventures and catching shit on fire.

Should I say that?  Adventures and fire?  Will that go against me?  We’ll pretend it won’t.

All right, making a mad dash to fill in crap.  Feel privileged–I haven’t even been writing in my diary because I’ve either been doing too much or just haven’t cared.  I guess that’s what summer does to you.  So, where do I begin?  Well, I’m still unpacking (my room looks ganky as fack; I can’t wait for everything to be put in its rightful place), I’ve hung out with my friends literally every day for nearly two weeks, and I don’t have a job.

Let’s start with the friends department.  We’ve been hanging out, catching up, blah blah blah: enjoyable.  Some friends and I meandered to the Renaissance Faire today (kick ass, let me tell you), have made far too many trips to Main Street, and have had a few get togethers that have all either ended in a bonfire or watching a movie or both.  Somehow, we end up adding gossiping like bitches and throwing dance parties into that mix, which then leads to trips to Steak and Shake in the dead of night.  I don’t know how this happens.

Something I do know that happens, and will most likely happen until the end of time, is that our friends will find gossip and drama to parade around.  Whether it be talking too much about the girls who are preggers or getting pissed off about not being invited to watch a television show that you don’t even like watching, we manage to claw at each other when backs are turned.

Now, I realise that this is just girl life (though how that ever became a standard, I’m unsure of), but damn it!  Can’t some people just hide their bitch-card once in a while?  For heaven’s sakes; I have a friend mad about not being invited to a small get together and another mad at me for eating a slice of pizza that I paid for.  And then the smart Facebook statuses full of complaints about it?  Really girls: get over it.  We’re all bitches to each other, so don’t feel so hurt.

I sound really negative, maybe on the edge of upset, but I’m not.  My mum even commented that I take social drama more maturely than anyone she’s ever met.  I don’t let my emotions get involved, and it’s why I am rarely disappointed or upset or angered over things that happen.  Not to mention that I accept the fact that I’m not everyone’s best friend and thus will not be invited to every little get-together.  I accept that I make other people uncomfortable at dance parties and that you’re afraid to touch me (unless you’re Alex, who decided to-hell-with-it and gave me a four second-long lap dance at a party because everyone else was too intimidated by me.  You win, Alex!).  I’m fully aware that people say mean things behind others’ backs then smile at them ten minutes later.  It’s kind of life, so I don’t get upset by this petty drama or how people treat me.  Getting bothered seems like a waste of time.

I guess I’m just trying to say that I wish others didn’t feel the need to be so upset by such small things.  No wonder heart-failure is so prevalent in this country: everyone is constantly moving fast and getting angry.  We all need to chill; have a Meditation With Missi day.  It will be glorious.  I promise.

Meanwhile, no job.  Not surprising, actually.  With this economy, even my friend who has applied for seventeen jobs can’t manage to grab one (and she’s one of the workers people should fight over).  You could say that I’ve given up without trying all that much.  After all, the Historical Society must need me in order to bring me in, and without the need, you might as well sit back and think of other things.  That ‘other thing’  for me has been painting.  I recently decided to start a miniature painting business (as in, I paint you a crappy picture for twenty bucks that you’ll probably hang in your dorm room).  It’s part hobby, part that I need the practise, and part summer job.  Maybe I can paint enough to have a little spending money for the summer (like, an extra fifty dollars, yo).  Nothing high-roller; I think of it more as bartering anyway.  You get a painting, I get a full tank of gas.  That sort of thing.

If you’re interested in purchasing a painting, let me know.  I’m best at abstracts and landscapes.  Give me the information, I’ll tell you size possibilities and prices.  We’ll work this old school.

Anyway, I can’t find much else to say.  This was more of a ‘let me fill you in and be a bitch along the way’ kind of blog.  And to anyone who would be upset by anything said: please take some time to chill and not let little things ruin your life.  You owe it to yourself.

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To my friends and readers in the Saint Charles area, I’m thinking that we should go to the local farmers’ market over this summer.  It’s supposedly right by Lindenwood University, and I’d love to check it out.  Here is some information about it from the Missouri Farmers’ Market website.

St. Charles County

Town/City: St. Charles
Name: St. Charles Lions Club Farmers’ Market
Open Days: Saturdays, 7:00 a.m. – Noon
May 16 – October 31
Contact Person: Gerry Shatro
Mailing Address: 907 Lindenwood
St. Charles, MO 63301
Phone: 636-723-2412
Directions: Take Riverside Drive 1 block north of Frontier Park in downtown St. Charles, on the riverfront.

I’ve never heard anything about this market, but if it is really there, you can bet that I will be going each week this summer.  That way, I’ll actually be able to live while home from university.  Seeing as how more than half of my diet is only fresh fruits and vegetables while at school, going home is rough where everything is mixed with meat or the oranges have been in the fridge since I was last home (whaddup four month old oranges?).  My plans are to be able to buy tomatoes, fresh greens, and berries to help sustain me through the week.  Then I’ll supplement my diet with the usual fresh baked bread, humus, cheese, store-bought fruits (bananas, pears, oranges), home-made apple sauce, and lots of chickpeas and red kidney beans.

Ugh.  I overly enjoy healthy food.

So, if you are interested in coming with me this summer, let me know.  And if you have recommendations on other markets, things to try, recipes, et cetera, leave a comment.  I hope you guys can attend a local farmers’ market this summer.  It’s a sure way to get organic and local foods.

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When driving between St. Charles and Kirksville, one encounters over 200 miles of rolling hills, valleys filled with fog, and (during this winter) varying amounts of fresh snow.  The drive starts out on Interstate 70, passing the various cities that mesh into one giant St. Charles/St. Peters area before hitting more farms that separate Wentzville and eventually Warrenton.  From there, the mountains start (or hills from the perspective of someone actually living near mountains).  In the valleys, you get heavy fog that will cover the rest of the state if you keep driving.  When the hills start to fade away, you’re left with a whole lot of nothing until you get to Columbia and get passed by every single car with a Mizzou sticker that exists.  From there, it’s a hop onto 63, and you’re driving past farms for the next 100 miles, with short bursts of life from Moberly and Macon, with town populations of 10,000 and 6,000, respectively.  All along the way, the fog picks up, regardless of what time it is, and snow starts to pelt.  The accumulations reduce the four-lanes to one lane each way, and not a single driver cares if they’re driving on the lines.  They just care that they’re driving where the snowplough was an hour before.  It’s slow, and the fog and snow reduce your vision to even less of the farms around you, giving the drive an extra feeling of monotony.  But, eventually, you get to Kirksville with it’s 20,000 population, and it feels like you just stumbled upon a metropolis.

But, if you have some good music, something to drink, and a Taco Bell stop along the way, this is quite possibly the best drive ever.  It grows even better with a car full of fun people, and the snow is just an added bonus of beauty and excitement.  After all, isn’t it a little fun to drive through a snow storm?  I think so.

– – –

This weekend, I went back home to St. Charles partly to clear my mind and also to see my grandmum for her birthday and visit with family.  Unlike most of my trips home (that end in fighting and my wanting to immediately leave), this was actually enjoyable, and I made a major point of getting along with everyone.  It’s difficult for me, very difficult.  Especially with my mum, but I tried, and I won.  Granted, I yelled a little on Sunday when I got stressed, but it was an “I’m in a real hurry, sorry!!!” kind of yell.  So, not too bad.

My family ended up driving down to St. James, Missouri on Saturday night to attend my cousin’s band’s trivia night.  We slightly dominated, though not enough to win any prizes (fourth place out of seventeen tables).  The only prize we got was the one for driving the furthest, which I’m fairly certain my aunt set up just for our table since she was in charge of prizes and knew we were coming.  All in all, though, it was fun.  I enjoyed listening to my grandmum and mum’s conversations during the two hour-long car ride, and it was enjoyable to not have to listen to my aunt whine too much.  She only made a jab at my vegetarianism once, and I still shut her up with the now infamous comment of, “well, I’ve lost six pounds and went down a dress size.”  It works wonders.

I counted up the hours over the weekend to figure out that I had been in a car for 13 hours, sleeping for 18, and awake and out of a car for only 17 hours.  I know that doesn’t quite equal up, but it sounds like a pretty good weekend.  So, maybe I’m still in a valley right now, with a lot of freezing fog and snow blocking my view, but I’ve started taking the steps to get back up the hill.  And that’s what’s important.

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