Eh, what can I say? Am very glad that considerate guy is truly considerate:

"I have to be honest with you and tell you there's someone I've seen a couple times, and I don't want to/am not able to juggle girls. I hope at this point you're saying to yourself, "Well, someone has a high opinion of himself...I thought we were just friends." If you're not saying that, and you feel like I mislead you, I'm sorry. I had a great time on Sunday. You're a blast to hang around and I hope we can see each again...just not in "that" way. I really hope I'm just making an ass of myself and we'll laugh about how stupid I was "letting you down" from nothing at all. So, are we cool? I hope so. You're fun to be around and I'd like to keep you as a friend."

Well, I can't complain...he was nice and I didn't fall in love at first sight or anything, I'm not "let down" in any way. I'm glad to be widening my friend circle (especially in my disgusting bar hopping town) and he seems to be one worth keeping.

Can't help it....

I absolutely love Law & Order!

As all my friends know, and maybe a few people who got in the line of fire, I don't much like lawyers. My law school experience was tiring and painful, as I was trying to bend my mind into the pompous, righteous, inflexible, and yet hypocritical ways of the world. I can't stand to watch most cop or lawyer shows, because they tend to be overly dramatic and full of black & white, right & wrong dichotomies. Personally, I like the blur of good & bad and a nice fuzzy graduating gray. That is why Law & Order is different...even though the show's template is almost always the same (murder/death in first 3 minutes, cops interrogating double faced victims/witnesses, and the lawyers preaching while working around the cops' procedural mistakes), the characters are realistic, the proceedings amazingly accurate, and the outcomes are always unsure until the very end.

Oh, and very very happy that considerate man called and wrote when he said he would. However, man is weird, even weirder than me (or maybe he's so normal, it's weird). Am I jaded or cautious?

Nothing meaningful today....have been in inexplicable good mood, and I can't get out of my boogie shoes. Right now, can't stop bopping to Offspring's newest, although it reminds me of a video game from the Eighties. Yesterday, it was Outkast. My cats are mewing at me, confused at my odd behavior (much like when I do yoga in the living room).

Ah, have cleansed self of sketchiness emanating from Pennywise concert. Not that that concert wasn't great--loved it, rocked out lots, and steered clear of nearly naked drunken fans and their scary BO. However, as we live, drama ensues...Mrs. R, ever in hope of finding a blip in her Red Fox radar, suddenly found herself in full sight of him, and clawed me repeatedly in anxious irrepressible excitement. Had to use bad tone to stop damage to my arm. Am really sorry, Mrs. R! For the rest of the night, pointedly ignored oompa loompa, while he steadily crept nearer to Mrs. R and Munkeigh, until Mrs. R could barely contain her single person mosh pit. Note: Red Fox is oblivious to drama, or is ignoring it. Sad, this drama over midget neanderthal, but hey, I once was bothered and bewildered (although not quite to this extent).

On a good note, was very happy to attract strange silent man in red that somehow made me feel safe from young punk ickiness (or maybe he felt safe with my crowd, hmmm, wish I had said something to him, though he was probably an infant). Also have ridden myself temporarily of violent urges with loud screaming angry youths.

Sadly, night ended with 2 sketchy events: (1) a Goldschlager-laced drink being dumped on me by aforementioned naked drunks right at the end of the concert and (2) my typical ability to draw in the ghetto drunkenness. Mr. Ghetto lacked gold teeth, but was leaning too near and too intently slurring that I was "hot" that I wondered if I had "skank ho" written across my butt. Did not know that my butt was that articulate. Need to have strong talk with butt and curb wrong messages sent out.

The moon is not full, it is but slightly waxing....am not a werewolf as originally thought.

And I have no explanation for my violent thoughts. I've been very tense today, a bit irritable and my mind keeps running off on tangents usually consisting of me being confronted by little shrew of a skank ho, and me kicking the crap out of her like a uncontrolled beast. Knocking down, stomping, chomping off bits of her nasty nose, and finishing with a good grabbing of her limp hair and spinning her around, launching her like a sack of rice into a nearby wall.

Sigh, I'm normally not this violent, but sometimes I get overwhelmed with people and their suckage, even though I can't pinpoint the direct cause. However, my pent-up rage is one reason girlies need to stop waving their fingers in front of people's faces. One day, they might just get a trouncing.

Ah, weekends are for catching up on sleep and sanity. After this hectic week and the knowledge of another week of the same coming up, I will now eat, veg, and watch the extended version of Two Towers. Maybe I'll catch another nap. Maybe I'll dream of blue sweatshirt guy again while I wander the aisles of Target aimlessly. I love life.

And now, some deep thoughts on relationships and jealousy (and his ex-wife) with T.G.:

"It starts off small and before you know it you don't have any friends and you are with someone who will never have enough of your attention to be satisfied."

Not that I'm completely anti-French like your regular idiot American who eats freedom fries...but this is pretty amusing.

The concise military history of France.

I appears I have a stalker...her name is Guido. I've only caught a glimpse, but I can sense the greasy and gold teethy aura. Feel famous a la Kevin Bacon.

Evil claimed does not evil make.

There are people who are wrongly and flippantly aligning themselves with evil. I would like to remind those insolent peons that they know not the troubles they bring upon themselves. Remember your master, bitches.

P.S. Aww, my kitty Giles is asleep after reassuring himself that I will not be leaving him. That's the problem with diabolical doings...no time for the kids.

Have unending joy in spreading of gratuitous violence in the world....or at least thoughts of it.

Newest episode from the high school suckage files:
In response to stupid confrontational tardy student--option #4. "Bitch!" (Beat with Chair) "Whore!" (Beat with Podium) "Retard!" (Beat with kid to whom she said "I can't believe she has the nerve to tell me I'm tardy) "Crap Ass Mother Fucker" (Slam her into the ground and kick kick kick kick kick!) I look around at the other students, who are quiet and staring, confused and concerned. I smile an evil smile."


What can I do but laugh maniacally. Bwahahahhaha!

Argh. When does the world suddenly flip and the parents are dependent upon the children? My dad has to suddenly leave for another country to be at a sick relative's deathbed, and I'm worrying more about him getting stuck or lost at a stopover, missing his plane, than relative's death or dad's possible malaria infection from 3rd world nation. Simple instructions are lost on the man. Next thing I know, I'll get a call from the Hartfield International Security that my father was arrested for assaulting a luggage checker, since they were going to hold him for bringing a loaded gun into an airport. I can't wait until I'm the inflexible old coot everyone has to cater to.

Goddamn it! Hormonal again and sending out magnetic pulses, it seems. Yellow lights galore and I almost set my cat on fire with the static spark that shot from my hand to his fur (I did spark his nose and he sneezed and looked sorrowfully at me). Well, might as well feed the fire:


DING DONG!!

I have tried too long to withhold evil thoughts and schemes...

After munkeigh's most recent blog, I realized that I have to accept my natural state of mayhem. I am evil. In addition, I want to be the best that I could be, so I want to be very very evil. But I was reminded to limit myself to that, since extremely evil me is "terrifying." Will not be proud of capability to inspire terror.

On a different note....YAY!!! My boys are back!



New album, new DVD, and revamped Blue! Oh, how can I control my excitement?!

Proof that blogging and bitchiness are not rocket science...welcome, blogger police! As the Hungarians would say, "Hagy segg'odik!"

Secret asian "sex machine" must have put the gun to her head, as we generally don't give a damn.

Oh, my ADD is really overwhelming today. Especially since I found on-line bubble wrap. Heeheeheehee....must have more!

My cephal is all spongy.....is it mad cow or excessive e-training? Hmmm.

After reading Mellie Bean's comment, I had an epiphany...my criteria should just be:

#1 He is not a son of a bitch.

That should be sufficient. :)

I wanted to see if I was overly picky in the men that I consider acceptable to date. So, in descending order:

My Criteria for a Good Man

#1 He is not currently married.
#2 He likes me.
#3 He is nice, considerate, and loyal.
#4 He is intelligent (not necessarily bookish, but can carry on a conversation).
#5 He is clean (as in not unbearably smelly and doesn't live in squalor).
#6 He is not a social pariah, criminal, drug user and/or alcoholic.
#7 He is approved by my friends and does not hate my friends.
#8 He is not scared to meet my family.
#9 He lives within 60 miles of me.
#10 He has a good job or is currently in search of one or has prospects in the near future for one.

Absolute write offs (aka Hell no!):
He must not have one or more gold teeth.
He must not call them "teef".


**Notice that I didn't list anything about looks, dress, height, and age. To me, they are not real factors in a relationship. The list is not that long, but you'd be surprised how few men pass all 10 (especially #2 and #3). In the end, I don't think I'm very picky, I just have very little to choose from. :)

I haven't felt bloggish in a while, but now that I can't speak (damned sore throat), I need to communicate from the isolation of my frigid house. For a bad night (Friday I think) I was filled with hatred that men can be all friendly and sweet and then disappear as if they never existed. I was bitter that Doc Wesley had stopped calling and writing so suddenly. He seemed genuinely nice, considerate, and we had fun together. Then, nothing. I guess he got tired of me, since I can't for the life of me figure out what I did wrong. I loathed men for their cowardice, asshole-ish ways, and general inability to treat women properly.

Later that night, I got a call from the coastie who I had written off from the start as a sweet, kinda immature meathead. He and I have an accepting sort of friendship--we're not scared of looking bad and psycho in front of each other, talk about anything and everything. He was calling all the way from Puerto Rico and, in one hour, reversed my previous nasty perception of men. I still think most men are scared little boys when it comes to confrontation and truth, but at least I have hope that there are nice communicative men out there who care, although they might not be that obvious from the start.

Have just discovered that I'm a hypochondriac. Damn WebMD. After coughing and whining for the last few days, I decided to check out some non-drug treatments on the internet and opened the gates to my doom. It all started so innocently. Two hours later, I had checked myself for the symptoms of asthma, pneumonia, flu, whooping cough, strep throat, migraine headaches, diabetes, ADHD, depression, bipolarity, schizophrenia, and autism. All the quizzes showed that I didn't have any of these diseases/disorders, although that may surprise many who read this blog. As with most psychological and medical diagnoses, the symptoms have to occur over a certain extended period of time. My question is: could there be a the possibility of having multiple disorders which have symptoms that occur, but get cancelled out over time? For example, can one be bipolar and have all the crazy upswings and deep lows, but be also ADHD or schizophrenic, which causes symptoms to fluctuate quickly so that they never last long enough for an official diagnosis? Hmmm.

And like always, I waste time pondering the ways of the world for naught. It is midnight, and I am still coughing.

Went on a date last night with Wesley lookalike crunchy granola pediatrician. Although the movie completely sucked, we laughed madly over bad acting and awkward elderly banter. *sigh* I will cross my fingers and pray to the gods that this one will be good.

Blogger police
Arrest this girl
She needs a bath
Controls like a freak
She needs another prozac

Blogger police
Arrest this girl
Her hitler attitude
Is making us feel ill
Why did she crash our party

This is what you get
When you mess with us....

Blogger police
Forget censoring
It's not enough...
It's not a democracy
But it's my blog, god damn iiiiitttttt

FUCK THE PO-LICE!!!

For a minute there, I lost myself.....

Sad to be back at the office after week long vacation....but proud to bear emblem of scariness at workplace. Am real supervisor, and underlings (aka former supervisors) are scampering away. Will not wallow in power.

Also in high spirits because figured out elusive Merman piano part late last night. Now only need to write out in proper form.

Am sad to also point out that two uglies do not a beautiful baby make. I need to find a diplomatic way to drop the hint that certain acquaintances should not breed. Maybe point out that there is no dearth of orphaned babies or reintroduce global warming and Malthusian arguments. As much as I try not to be judgmental, it's amazing how "love" blinds.

Rest assured my friends, I am not talking about you.

Munkeigh's blog on the abortion debate is excellent and a necessary read. She wrote a very well-thought out and moving argument.

My biggest problem with law is the lawyer/judge/legislators' need to rationalize and justify everything, but only within the scope of precedence and current societal standards. Mostly, these spirit of the law arguments are based on the righteousness or power struggles between religious or political groups. I know that's how many people believe life should be led. They should try at least once to think of these matters outside of religion and politics.

Who is really concerned with the act of abortion? It is someone 50 steps removed from the process trying to tell others what they should be doing or is it someone whose life is a hard enough for her to consider hurting an integral part of herself? Regardless of the "alternatives" to abortion, women still have to live through the discomfort and shame of 9 months of pregnancy knowing they will not keep the growing baby they are desperately trying not to bond with. Let's not forget the pain and possibility of death during childbirth. Most likely without the emotional or monetary support of the father of their child or their family. What do men have here at risk?

For those conservatives out there who wish to shrink and deregulate the government based on the opinion that people should be making their own decisions not the repressive government, why are these the same conservatives who insist on making decisions for society as a whole?

I just remembered a suppressed mini-dream I had last night....I was walking along the lamplit streets of old London and all of a sudden noticed that they were not lamps, but tall evergreens encircled by humongous bubble lights. As I walked past strangers, I saw their faces staring at me, aglow in light of the foot-long monstrosities. Very upsetting.

OK, I figured out my RESOLUTIONS FOR 2004:

--First and foremost...I will eat better and exercise more regularly. After this last week of gasp- and cough-inducing plague, I think that health is very very important.
--I will read more non-fiction books. I will no longer subconsciously avoid learning as a method to distant myself from law school pain.
--I will learn how to play the guitar.
--I will be more vigilant of what I express in my email messages. Spell check does not fix attitude and stupid jokes.
--I will try to be more social.
--I will curb my spending and debt. Must remember that retail therapy is evil.
--And last and hardest of all...I will try to be less angry and scary.

Happy, happy 2004!!

I still haven't come up with any viable resolutions, so I will put that off until later. Obviously, I've given up on procrastinating less.

Anywho, after last night's wild extravaganza with friends and one creepy guy (dolfinn's, that is), I have many views on the new year:

1. Must only party when healthy. Sickness sucks.
2. Pizza is pizza, no matter what order you put on the toppings.
3. Not all vegetarians like raw broccoli, especially on pizza.
4. My friends have a loose tie on reality and have control issues. I will not venture the downward spiral of megalomania.
5. Must avoid creepy men (surely, staring is symptom of greater issues).
6. Must not talk of sex in front of creepy men (intent staring is even creepier).
7. I need to expand my friends outside the "Buffy group."
8. Psychic cards are always fun.

I haven't decided if I am hormonal or a slut.

I will blame this mindless contemplation on my attempt to relax and extreme head congestion. A week off work, no worries, a little sniffle, and BOOM....issues galore. Last night, I indulged in a trashy, brain cell busting, and body image cracking read of Glamour magazine, and now I'm anguished over lack of sex. Actually had a long drawn out inner dialogue over possibility of sex with midget manwhore or other denizens of nastyassville. Now I'm thoroughly upset with my desperate lunatic urges.

Must find a good man and establish a bonafide relationship to justify crazy animal lust. Must remember dignity and disease.

Feeling congested and hazy
A long day suffering
Overstuffing
At parents' dusty knickknack filled house.

But I just wrote back to a nice pediatrician who sent me a picture of his cat. Have new outlook on dating scene.

Have been sucked into megalomania.....bwahahaha!

Once upon a time, there was a little queendom named Geeez.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!

My Seattle trip:

Most people go to Seattle for all the cheesy tourist attractions, like the Space Needle, the Monorail, and the Pike Place Fish Market (the one where they throw the fish around). And I'm guilty of cheese too. Actually, the market was really cool, and I got to order a cafe latte in the original Starbucks there.

BUT the coolest thing ever was the Experience Music Project--the melting-smashed-guitars-a-la-Bilbao music museum. It's huge and had a special exhibition on punk and grunge scene in Seattle (lots of Kurt Cobain love, too much in fact). AND on the second floor was my favorite part--a sound lab that contained booths that taught you how to play and let you play around with acoustic guitars, electric guitars and basses, drum sets and keyboards, and let you record vocals. Oh, I so need an electric guitar and distortion pedals. The power chord root 6 is mine.

Oh, and another thing about homoeroticism in LOTR....I think I read somewhere that Tolkien based a lot of the horrific war/wasted countryside scenes on his experience in the World War (example: the Dead Marshes). Maybe the companions' uncomfortable closeness is Tolkien's take on male bonding during wartime.

My counter-blog on Munkeigh's review of Tolkien's LOTR: ROTK (geek code for "3rd and coolest eye candy epic sequel"):

First, this is not the bestest film ever created. This is not the pure embodiment of all things great in cinematic adaptation. I know this and I'm not arguing otherwise. But it's better than the first and second parts, and that's rare, especially in the movies (see Godfather III, that's all I need to say).

I want to write as someone who has read all the Ring books, including the appendices, the Hobbit, but not dorky enough to read the Silmarillion. The films and Peter Jackson have done an EXCELLENT job of adapting the book, putting enough detail and main plot lines to get the feel of the stories and the necessary closure. And Munkeigh's main problems with the movie were problems with the book and Tolkien's unoriginal, antifeminist plot.

The book was written in 1965, by an old British man. I suspect that he wasn't part of the emerging feminist movement. He probably revelled in the mod miniskirts of the time. The book is a glorification of war, destruction, good vs. evil, and all things manly. Therefore, there weren't many female characters, but I'd like to point out two good ones (1) Galadriel--a strong, powerful, and mysterious female character and (2) Eowyn--courageous, strong, and nurturing. As for Arwen, she's insipid, but far less than she was in the book.

I am not going to argue for Tolkien's grand originality. He wasn't original at all, but most writers are not. He did a good job of mixing the mythological creatures, their characteristics, and other such archetypes into a complex and exciting plot. And that's what makes his book broad-reaching and interesting...a basis in the familiar, but with a twist. Tolkien was not the imaginative genius some reviewers have put him to be, but they also think the Matrix plot is new and mind boggling. Bridget Jones was a huge hit too, even though it's practically a modern Pride and Prejudice, complete with Colin Firth. I don't think the normal moviegoer realized this either.

As for the Joss Whedon comparison...as if you can compare. Of course Joss comes out as more developed, but he wasn't out to write a straight good vs. evil story. He was intending from the start to question the lines of good and evil, unlike Tolkien.

Last bits:
1. Everyone wanted to control the mystic ring (feminine symbol), but they couldn't, they weren't strong enough. Ha.

2. Homoeroticism....lots of man/hobbit/elf/dwarf love. Shouldn't we be revelling in the acceptance of the "feminine" aspects of feeling, love, and caring into male characters? Why should we be uncomfortable?

3. By the way, Eowyn's complete tromping of the Wraith King is almost verbatim from the book. Her role was not exaggerated or forced into the plot. And I argue that her fight was not pointless. Sure, Thedon died, but by killing the Wraith King, she brought down the command line and chaos in the enemy ensued, bringing an end to the battle.

Off to cold wet Seattle (yay!!).

Itinerary:
Fly off at the crack of dawn.
Try to not get sick on the plane.
Buy tiny umbrella at O'Hare airport because I always forget something.
Land, check into hotel, and wait for the Special Sauce to arrive.
Tour like a mad fiend.
Shop and drink lots of coffee.
Feel all grungy and cool.
Fly back in time for day of skeeball with Munkeigh.

I cannot complain. My life is good.

This is what I get for my fear of needles combined with my love of singing along with my many Christmas CDs....a really sore throat. Damn flu season.

Ack. Hairball.

May I reiterate that I am thoroughly tired of the gross men. Just received an email from a nasty Marine. I think that normally Marines are cool and worthy of my respect, but not when one writes me a 100,000-word dissertation on how much he works out, how looks are what really matters, and how he loves dinner by candlelight and is NOT controlling AT ALL. Generally proving to me that he's making up for something and has ISSUES. Note to sad Sir: if you have to start every other paragraph with "are you still with me," I have already run far far away.

UGH!!! I need to bathe. I feel so dirty.

I really miss the celibate monks. At least they are considerate, intelligent, and clean.

Maybe on the edge of the great chasm of depression. Got Buffy Season 5 today and don't feel like watching it for fear of crying over deaths of imaginary TV characters. Can't wait until Season 6 when true depression will run rampant. Other possible reasons for listlessness:

Holidays.
General suckage of the human race, especially exposed during the holidays.
Self-loathing.
Discovery of someone scarily very much like me, but apprehension and embarrassment for the loserness of him.
Full moon.
Meat market of a dating scene.
Scads of gross men in uniform.
Pitiful desperate response to gross dating scene.
Hard work for naught (but for the highly coveted "meets expectations" designation).

“Just when I thought that I was out, they pull me back in.”

I have revisited almost-forgotten forces of anger and hatred. Am thoroughly "appauled" by the depths of human immorality and stupidity, especially since I had chosen to ignore the blatant scuminess. Will purge blog of any positive references to idiot midget subspecies. Will refrain from throwing nails onto his lawn in hopes of future rusty wounds. Will not fantasize of painful torture involving castration and guitar strings.

Will think positively that karma will set it all right. I just hope the f***** suffers.

I think I have ADD.

Let me explain....when I was thinking about all the work that I'm putting off until tomorrow morning because I am tired and don't care, my cat started howling while I was doing laundry--due to the noise from the machine, I guess. Distracted, I decided to blog. In pondering what I could blog about, I scratched my head, and looked down and saw a blue spot on my thigh. The spot from my pen, jabbed into my leg, desperately trying to stay awake during interviews with the Air Force. Hmm. Blue. Maybe I should apply for that litigation attorney vacancy--that can't be as boring. Damn, the bar. Oh well. I glanced up and saw myself surrounded by all the extraneous books, photo albums, file folders, and yearbooks that don't fit on my bookshelves. I need more bookshelves I think, while I yell at my cat for howling. And then I thought mmm, chocolate doughnuts, and tried to hold off from going downstairs and eating the cookies I baked yesterday. I scratched my hand absently and realized that I never put a bandaid on that finger that I cut earlier today.

Because I forgot.

Oh, and having recurring thoughts of jumping the pharmacy counter at my local Target to give my Asian pharmacist a hug just because he's so damn cute. How rare is that? A non-midget Asian? Oh, wait. Me.

Finally getting into the spirit of the season and making gifts lists, shopping, and putting up tree and decorations!! Just had to finish Thanksgiving first (considering most people don't). The only thing I'm really concerned about (other than lack of time and money, as always) is my psycho monkey cat using the tree as her diabolical launching pad to further terrorize my round bear cat. Nothing like coming home to an overturned Christmas tree.

As for the counseling I've been doing on the side, urgh. What draws these crazies to me??? Damn that psychology degree. Issues do not a man make.

I really need to prioritize: 1) Relax, 2) Friends, 3) Necessary work, 4) Counseling for men hooked on past girlfriends. Unfortunately, things have been a bit backward.

Oh, and I learned to shoot a gun today. Thanks, Todd.

Am hormonal and in desperate need of a vacation!! Maybe all the free Sims money and crazy house building has turned me to greed and the urge to sit in a white and purple egg chair, spinning for fun. *Sigh*

Ooof. I dreamt last night that I was trying to be shot repeatedly and kept out of gunfire by hiding behind an office chair. Lots of uncomfortable squatting and dodging. I don't know the true implications of this dream, given that I would probably be the shooter, not the shootee, but I did wake up with hopes of a new life. Breakfast in the morning that doesn't consist of Diet Coke and a multivitamin. Work without procrastination. Dealing with stressful situations with ease and nonchalance. Exercise at the gym that is ripping me off as we speak.

Instead, I drink too much coffee in the morning with that good breakfast, have too much to do and too little time to procrastinate, give myself a stress headache, and stuff myself with Thai food at lunch. But I still have plans for the gym, by god. They can't take that away from me.

Went to see Magic Flute and expected much repetition a la Mozart. Also expected mothball smelling older women with helmet hair. Instead, I was surprised to see *ding dong*. Luckily for Munkeigh, he ended up sitting beside me so she could appear to be talking to me while staring at his perfection. Sigh. Well, the repetitive arias went on for about eternity (virtue and love, virtue and love, virtue and love, lalala), and I was fighting the urge to sleep. But there could be no snoozing with *ding dong* on my right--I would have woken up in his lap. :)

I will not pull a R****. I will not take the easy path and go back when I should prevail with the shitty dating scene. At least my experiences have taught me to take this rejection less personally. God, I hate this.

But I have a plan, money and time willing--I will start taking Taekwondo classes in the nicer younger areas of my town. I always wanted to kick ass, I need motivation to exercise, and I will be following the Alaska theory of opportunities (more guys take martial arts classes, it's good to be the only female). Calculated? Yes, thanks to my more strategic and materialistic friends. Maybe this way, I'll avoid the sailors.

Men are b**** a** m-f*****s! Their lack of respect will be sent back to them with other various body parts.

My impassioned plea for the day:

VIVE LA REVOLUTION!!!

We will not bow down to the controlling fist of the dictators who endanger our lives, ignore our protests, declare lies to the masses, and steal our minds!!!

Down with DSM! Down with lemming administrators!! Down with ignorance!!!

All is well, my pumpkin was carved, I have lots of candy leftover (mmm, reese peanut butter cups!), and have camera phone in hand. Although I feel as if the past weekend sucked the life out of me, a lot of things have been clarified:

1) I am not lame. Drunk 25-year-old single guys ignoring girls bouncing on a trampoline to play Asshole and Hero Clix are lame.
2) Teachers drink A LOT. And they spit.
3) The Williamsburgian khaki cardboard has finally left my system. I will glorify regressed fashion of kilt and weezer shirt.
4) I have successfully learned how to disguise my dislike with a smile.
5) All Pauls are little f****.

Usually, I'm not the school spirited sort, more like the "f*** the administration" type--but it is homecoming and I will travel to visit the friends I still have from my hellish college years. Hellish but fun.

My good bud is having a Halloween party/other boring people get together and is going to be wearing her typical anglosaxon wench outfit. I decided to forgo the goth girl/gargoyle costume I've been sporting for the last few days and be the punk rocker I always wanted to be. Just lacking the electric guitar (and felt very tempted to call up someone so that I could borrow his. I held back of course.) Anywho, I put on the outfit this morning to test it out, and I feel remarkably comfortable in my kilt, weezer shirt, boots, and crazy studded jewelry. Now I just need my hair in anime pigtails and pink hairspray. Kinda look like a young Japanese weezer fan. Sick, sick, sick. But fun.

Also--decided to buy camera phone. Need camera phone!!!

At work, distressed over whole pumpkin. And the need for some kickin boots. When will I find time to devote to the important things in life??

This Halloween week, I've been so busy that my unmade jack o'lantern sits in my kitchen, unmolested and completely not scary. I had time last night, but not the energy to butcher the squash. Now, I have to rush my creation (bwa-ha-ha!!). Am completely unhappy.

Also, I figured out what I have been missing lately--a nice pair of boots to drop kick my funk (and a couple of idiots along the way). And, they would add that finishing touch to my angel of death outfit. Need boots now.

I've been having a lot of fits of hysterical laughter lately....

New one--you can get a whole set of gold teeth here.

HAHAHAHAHHA!!!

Cannot stop laughing about most recent email from sketchy man. As a joke, my friend wrote up a blunt and true match.com personal ad for me. Have gotten hits galore. This one being the best of the lot, from my admirer, also known as "striperjunkie":

Subject: hmmmmm!

thats a freaky write up girl!!!

rocky

As his profile says, it's all about the fishing.

OK, complete reversal of my bad habits at once is a big bite of difficult. So, I will continue to work on my impatience, anger, and anxiety, and will try to be more laid back, as I have been trying for years (as those of you can attest that I'm better than I used to be). I will sleep because that's not really too hard. I will try and get out more, which will help with the hermit-ness. However, I will postpone my efforts on ending my justifications in life (my psych degree just won't let me), catering to my obsessive nature, and hating people in general. It's good to have something to rely on in life, and I so rely on my compulsions and disappointment in people, it makes for more pleasant surprises.

I've decided that today will the start of a new life. I will no longer continue my Type A symptoms (impatience, anger, anxiety), cater to my obsessive nature, feed my depression through too much Sims (my Sims guy went up in flames, I mourned) and too little sleep, be the hermit I've been, try and discern patterns in life to make justification easier, and hate people in general. I will try to meet new people, attempt those things I've always wanted to do and stick with them, be more laid back, and be more communicative.

Oh, this is going to be hard.

It isn't easy being blue.

I have a co-worker from Kentucky (he's not blue), but he describes such strange sub-species of Kentuckians....it's like Lord of the Rings there. We're just waiting to hear about the dwarfs who have lived generations in the mines.

Am very glad that excessive Paulage is annoying. Dumb ass.

Had a strange dream last night of cleaning out fridge with my best friend, then going on a driveby and zoning out so badly that I ended up in Boston at 7am, gliding into downtown on fumes. While searching for a gas station that wasn't getting held up, I came across a group of guys, early 20s, skateboarding around this really complex dirt track they had built at a demolition site. Decided to forgo finding fuel and join the guys. Had the time of my life.

Hmm, my own obvious interpretation:

I absolutely hate cleaning out the fridge. It's a metaphor for opening up/fighting with my friend about my jealousies and paranoia. To escape this yucky experience, I go on my typical drive and end up in Boston--the place I always wish to go when I really want to get away. However, I realize that this is not practical and by the time I get there, my escapism urge and anger will have gone away. Now I'm stuck in scary repercussions for escaping instead of confronting my problems, I desperately try to find a way to get back on track with life. Instead, I get distracted by young punks and decide to just wing it and have fun. Hmmm, my mind is made up.

Any other interpretations?

Am very bitter about life. Watched Madame Butterfly and left the opera crushingly sad and internally bitching out Pinkerton as the crap ass motherfucker that he is. Saw him as the paradigm of the men in my life recently....self-centered and cowardly. Let's just let her figure it out herself...oh sad stupid girl for believing it will all work out in the end.

Will release anger through song....just finished "men...and their sales" and moving onward to "midget manwhores (the oompa loompa song)"

Yes, good plan.

Oh the rollercoaster of life....

I take that last blog back. My mourning period is not over, and the disrespect that midget manwhores give to me is less than appealing, but I can't stop obsessing!

I will no longer be fooled by little old man-boys. They are unworthy of my attention.

Blind date with idiotic midget. Things do not look good.

This is all I have to say--deer and indigenous rocks. Oh, how did my standards drop so low?

OK, maybe I jumped the gun a little. He and I will be discussing our "separation" this weekend and we'll be having a heart to heart, face to face (novel idea, since we've been on different continents for almost three years). At least, my mind is more balanced than it was two nights ago. I still feel very "grey street." <--random DMB reference

Nothing like getting dumped to ruin a weekend. And make you reassess the last 4+ years. Now I feel very low, stupid, ugly, and hopeless. Obviously, my theory of patience and low-maintenance in a relationship was a load of crap and completely ineffective. Will I ever find a man who loves me enough to make space in his life for me?

Want to empty head.

I don't know what jump-started my allergies, but my head is now about 10 pounds heavier, my ears keep popping, and I had to prop myself up to breath last night. Sucks.

And to top it off, while everyone else in my office gets a day off, due to lack of power/telephone/computer, my team of hard working crazy people set up a meeting where there is power and computers to talk about the budget. As if that's important.

Argh.

Someone's been reminding me to update my blog.

Umm...hurricane. Have other things on my mind like life, falling trees, and leaky roofs.

Luckily, my paranoid must-prepare-in-case-of-nuclear-fallout skills came into play and only had to buy 2 gallons of emergency drinking water and peanut butter, otherwise I was set. And I still got the condescending smirk from beer and pork product buyers in local grocery store. Oh, go play in the 7-10 foot surge and die, supercilious bastards.

Anywho, everything turned out OK, just a little water damage and a little guilt for being in the 10% of the city that has power. And for disregarding water conservation (ignorance of the law is no excuse, I know) and doing laundry (towels and blankets that prevented more water damage, I swear). At least I was a good citizen and raked the leaves and tree branches out of the gutters.

Interesting. I remembered someone once mentioning that if you had a "dropping d" in your handwriting, it was a sign of crazed asocial freak and/or serial killer. Noticed today that my handwriting had a lot of these d's, but hey, I am at work. I admit to understanding how someone can go berserk and start shooting. I, afterall, did you to law school (and yes, lawyers are crazy. If they like law too much, they're crazy; if they hate it but still went to law school, they're crazy. I fall into the second category.)

So, I found this interesting handwriting analysis self-test.

Some tidbits:

"Others, beware... you checked that the letter 'k' in the words 'monkey' or 'make', were larger than the other letters in the words. This is known as the 'go to hell K'. It signifies defiance and resistance to authority. You resent being told what to do and were probably a very rebellious teenager. Entrepreneurs, class clowns, and criminals often have excessive defiance... channel your rebellion carefully!"

"Concerning the letter slant of your sample (slant reveals emotional outlay)... you chose 'Vertical'. You use logical sound judgments to make decisions. You\re ruled by your head, not your heart. You tend to be cool, calm and collected and are good under pressure. In a situation where other people might get hysterical, you have poise. Some may see you as 'detached' or 'unemotional'. It's not that you don't feel emotions, you just have more discernment when and with whom you express your inner most feelings. You keep them inside longer than most people do. (If your writing is very large you can be very social, friendly and talkative, but still emotionally logical.) The first time someone makes you mad, you probably won't say anything. But, you'll mentally put a mark on the wall and keep your mouth shut until they piss you off again and again. Then, BOOM! You'll explode, all that pent-up anger comes pouring out! And, you won't feel any regret at all, because you know they deserved it."

"You love to give your opinion on anything. As a matter of fact, you volunteer your opinion even when it isn't asked for. Because you can't stop the flow of talking, people may refer to you as 'motor-mouth'. You often talk just to hear yourself talk. If you do decide to marry, you might consider someone who's stone deaf."

Well, not psycho, but pretty nasty. Hmmm, must change handwriting.

Must face the inevitable.

Evaluating oneself is an exercise of pain. Most people would be naturally boastful, but have been beaten by society into humility. Our social conscious is to know that we are great, but be repressed or guilted into not feeling or expressing that, because we should be miserable and lowly. In the end, we then bypass our pride for a more palatable self-loathing.

Why the philosophical bent? The paradox of a "self-assessment." The self-assessment is my evaluation of my work and improvements for the year to be used by my bosses for possibility of a raise. With that simple definition, the more I brag about my accomplishments, the better my chances at getting a raise. The difficulty is that we all have been trained by the world that humility is good and bragging is bad. So, to be a good human, and to be a well-paid human, I need the complicated correct mix of kicking and kissing ass.

We have also had mandatory training on how to write a self-assessment. From what I gleaned, my assessment should have a tone of "I do everything without a single complaint" and "I could be doing better than this shit." Very tricky.

On the French.

"And so it goes throughout the day. The French people are open, not suspicious. They are self-deprecating, not arrogant. They are almost gallant in their treatment of a stranger. They are defying stereotype.

They are being contrarian. How damnably French of them.

When I am inwardly troubled, I often consult the dead. And so, toward day's end I find myself shuffling alone through historic Montparnasse Cemetery, contemplating the puzzlement that is France. How can I explain this in Tocquevillian terms? The whole country seems paradoxical. The French do not spend money on air conditioning -- in mid-July, Paris is a sweatbox, indoors and out -- yet their underground parking garages pipe in classical music. They are famously resistant to American cultural influences, yet "Charlie's Angels" is their current big movie, and in the subways Hulk Hogan sells Internet service. The French are famously artistic and creative, yet, by indisputable evidence on the radio, they still haven't figured out how to write a competent rock song."


The whole schbang.

Diet Coke, the breakfast of champions.

Since I'm on the eye-candy vibe....

Just re-watched Desperado, in preparation for Once Upon a Time in Mexico. Have once again proclaimed Antonio Banderas the hottest man alive.



As one of my good friends said when she saw that picture, it's as if you can hear him say "Come, breed with me." OYE.

Too bad he's with that plastic, collagenated, retrofitted, post-prima Barbie. Eh, he looks damn good, but that doesn't account for his taste.

Oh....Sigh.

Trying desperately to block out co-worker's rantings on the phone about everything and everyone. If I lived her life, I'd have 15 ulcers by now. Oh, the drama!

Cubicle Truth #1: Everyone can hear you. Shut up. We don't care about your damn wedding.
Cubicle Truth #2: Harmony is key. When you have a door to shut, then you can rightfully piss people off.
Cubicle Truth #3: Backwards as it may seem, the more annoying you are in the cubicles, the longer you stay in them.

Therefore, I will suck it up and plan to be out in a year.

Was once a strong independent woman, willing and able to fight my way through this world.

Am now sad girly girl with dead car battery and worries of broken alternator. Sigh.

This is for blog munkeigh for breaking through the web madness.



Thanks. Not the speedo picture, but nice shiny ass pants...

I feel that I've been very good today:

Refrained from argument with my Republican neo-conservanazi co-workers who spent too much/little synapse flashes pushing to lower gas prices, decrease our national debt, get W reelected, and overall ridicule the "liberal idiot" masses by completely gutting the population of Iraq and using their oil pipelines as payment for us "stabilizing" their country.

Ignored upcoming evaluation similarities to Dilbert cartoon (the coveted "Meets Expectations" award!), and fantasies of beating fax machine a la Office Space.

Ate salad for lunch.

Repressed urge to live as a hermit, forgoing all societal niceties. Found it really hard because really wanted to tell many people to fuck off.

Renewed thoughts of harmony, satisfaction in comparison to sadder situations, and hope for a start of a new day.

After hearing my rather deaf ex-Air Force pilot coworker yell into his phone, "Now, you're 5 by 5, but a second ago, I only got 1" and had a flashback of Faith on Angel...ah ha! The connection was made:

"This is an old aeronautical radio term. Radio signal strength and clarity were measured on a scale of 1 to 5. Today the term "Loud and Clear" is preferred to "5 by 5".

In slang use "5 by 5" means things are well, good, or as expected."

Go urban dictionary.

Have decided to abstain from argument over SUVs. Am argued out. Cannot convince the ignorant and easily-dazzled the importance of the earth over a shiny monster truck.

HOWEVER, I will not put up with any frivolous complaints about bad traffic, parking, taxes, and gas prices. It is your choice, not Saudi Arabia's or OPEC's, to own a tank (aka Hummer) that should be measured in gallons to the mile. You could be driving a Lexus, spending less, helping the economy, and causing less traffic accidents.

And one last thing....coincidence? I think not.

Some days you just feel like stumbling and going mad:

"She was just another cow on a farm -- no name, no brand, no distinguishing features, barely memorable until she stumbled and went mad."
Who knew that Saskatchewan was the place to be for mad cows?

Back to the lion's den...DC, my hell away from home. Especially since they'll probably be closing down the mixing bowl...again. I guess traffic can stop for a few weekends to save some lives of N.Va commuters...

What the hell am I saying?! I hate Northern Virginianers. They are Satan's minions perpetuating the pseudo-attraction to the area. Can't people see that it's just one gigantic ever-urban-spraWling Children of the Corn backdrop? With scary khaki wearing cardboard characters.

On a lighter note, I hope the hotel that I'm staying at has Bravo. Need Queer Eye fix, even though the new guy looks like Fabio in the 80s.

After existing on fumes for the last couple of days, finally put gas in my car and was shocked to see it cost me $1.60/gallon (about $.30 more than two days ago). I knew that I should have predicted the effect of the Phoenix gas shortage on gas prices in Virginia. Damn volitility of the market.

Need to take sabbatical to find alternative fuel source...can the country run on the hot air produced by lawyers??? Wait, it already does.

Sick and sadistic...

"Your IQ score is 140

During the test, you answered four different types of questions — mathematical, visual-spatial, linguistic and logical. We analyzed how you did on each of those questions which reveals how your brain uniquely works.

We also compared your answers with others who have taken the test. According to the sorts of questions you got correct, we can tell your Intellectual Type is a Visionary Philosopher.

This means you are highly intelligent and have a powerful mix of skills and insight that can be applied in a variety of different ways. Like Plato, your exceptional math and verbal skills make you very adept at explaining things to others — and at anticipating and predicting patterns. And that's just some of what we know about you from your IQ results. "

To prove you're smarter

Just in case you thought I've forgotten the Weezer love:

rumpled and confused just like I like him and

working very hard to produce more geek love.

I've decided to add my top 20-11 favorites in my lifetime.

And to explain a bit about the criteria for addition to my list, I chose songs that (1) I loved, (2) did not get overplayed on the radio until I was sick of it, (3) could be played over and over and I can't get sick of it, (4) were by varied artists (I tried not to monopolize), and (5) if I were stuck in a padded room and these songs were played continuously, I wouldn't feel like harming myself.

And the list goes on....

20. Turn My Head - Live
19. Angel - Sarah McLachlan
18. Closer to Fine - Indigo Girls
17. Wanted Dead or Alive - Bon Jovi
16. Drive - The Cars
15. I'll Be There - Jackson 5
14. The One I love - REM
13. Fields of Gold - Sting
12. Billie Jean - Michael Jackson
11. Every Breath You Take - The Police

OK, here it is (initially), my top 10 favorite pop songs of my lifetime:

10. Baby, I'm Amazed - Paul McCartney
9. Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana
8. Say It Ain't So - Weezer
7. Wicked Game- Chris Isaac
6. Hey Jupiter - Tori Amos
5. Creep - Radiohead
4. Your Song - Elton John
3. Time in a Bottle- Jim Croce
2. Love Song - The Cure
1. Imagine - John Lennon

Disclaimer: There aren't any "modern" songs on this list because most music nowadays sucks (um, 50 cent?) and these have withstood the test of continuous radio replay.

trying to come up with a list of top ten pop songs of my lifetime (aka since 1976)...sad because am shocked my tastes run toward cheese

not bad if I do say so myself....


Borderline Obsessive


How Obsessive Are You Over Buffy?
brought to you by Quizilla

My door jamb is in leagues with my A/C unit. They drip. They mock me.

I actually climbed up a very rickety ladder into my scary dark and loosely insulated attic to inspect the destruction. CAN FIND NO SUCH DESTRUCTION. Recently replaced drip pan barely half full and draining properly. No evidence of clogged pipes in sight. Ceiling/floor of attic not even damp. Am anxious about cost to figure out enigma and really hate being mocked in the morning.

Can poltergeists materialize in form of water??

Here to advertise C & R's little discussion on the merits of J-Lo vs. Ben....

Why Gigli sucks big monkey balls...

And an Onion article, based on true events (dramatization).

Here's another great quiz--

How much of a geek are you?

For the benefit of Ms. Rigby....(don't smite me!!)

Fifth level of hell, they say. Figures.

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Fifth Level of Hell!

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Very High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Low
Level 7 (Violent)	High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Very High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Let thee be judged

Yes, my thoughts are this disjointed.

Oh cuteness. Orlando (non-elf, non-pirate).

An imaginary day in the life of Rivers Cuomo,

And real life with Weezer. My favorite line: "Barney is singing about 'dancing away the blues' while a racially balanced group of mutant children twitch arrhythmically behind him. And you wonder why rock stars throw TV sets from hotel-room windows."

Watched Amelie for the first time, after highly recommended and got over frightening whiteness of cover photo. Very very cute and highly amusing. Especially the young Amelie flashbacks and the travelling gnome. Uplifting and quirky. Now depressed, for not cute little weird french waitress but pensive weird asian government employee and cannot expect such goodness in reality. Oh well, at least I don't have that awful haircut.

Since there is no more new Buffy to motivate my social calendar (yes, I am completely sad), there's always Ted.

The funniest article on why J-Lo sucks fucking ass.

I haven't had wild crazy sex dreams of Rivers lately. I'm starting to miss the boy. Must concentrate on more Rivers sexage.

Thanks to Cristina:

Why the little guy wins in my book...