Ah, June 10th....day of infamy.
Both parents' birthdays. (Forever on, I will run screaming away from any Geminis.)
Their "anniversary." (Yeah, right. I'm staying clear from that one.)
My law school graduation. (Useful, no. Memorable, no. Boring ass smile for the cameras, yes.)
Death of best friend's mom. (Sadness. Best mom I've ever had.)
Emotional turmoil abounds. Fear or face? Avoid or ignore? Drown in Buffy Season 6? Hmm, sounds like a plan.
6.08.2004
As much as I loathe the things I do, I make a mighty tasty beer:
GUINNESS: You like to be known as a past-tense
heavy drinker and are full of stories of antics
from your 'youth.' You consider yourself more
mature than those 'other' beer drinkers, and
your taste reflects that.
The Greatest Beer Quiz, ever!
brought to you by Quizilla
What can I say, I'm thick, heady, and old irish men like me. I should just accept it and stop trying to be a Framboise.
GUINNESS: You like to be known as a past-tense
heavy drinker and are full of stories of antics
from your 'youth.' You consider yourself more
mature than those 'other' beer drinkers, and
your taste reflects that.
The Greatest Beer Quiz, ever!
brought to you by Quizilla
What can I say, I'm thick, heady, and old irish men like me. I should just accept it and stop trying to be a Framboise.
6.07.2004
6.06.2004
And we'll all float on OK...
Theme for the night: closure to psychological case study.
As I subconsciously judged since the second time I met him--the thought which morphed into the nagging red flag in the back of my mind everytime I was with the "dude"--he's still obsessed with the past. At first, I was drawn as if to a damn bug light to this crazy Jon Favreau behavior. I wanted to understand the nature of the depressed relationship-less man. I wanted to see the flip side of what women typically suffer through. I wanted to be his Dr. Melfi and was promptly emotionally sucked in and stressed out. He was my friend and my pitbull, offering to beat up guys who treated me badly. As usual, my masochistic ways made me like the guy, even care for him. Hence the stress of seeing him make so many interestingly fucked-up decisions. Luckily, the past seems to work into his future. Good for him. I knew this would happen but I'll miss him anyway.
Theme for the night: closure to psychological case study.
As I subconsciously judged since the second time I met him--the thought which morphed into the nagging red flag in the back of my mind everytime I was with the "dude"--he's still obsessed with the past. At first, I was drawn as if to a damn bug light to this crazy Jon Favreau behavior. I wanted to understand the nature of the depressed relationship-less man. I wanted to see the flip side of what women typically suffer through. I wanted to be his Dr. Melfi and was promptly emotionally sucked in and stressed out. He was my friend and my pitbull, offering to beat up guys who treated me badly. As usual, my masochistic ways made me like the guy, even care for him. Hence the stress of seeing him make so many interestingly fucked-up decisions. Luckily, the past seems to work into his future. Good for him. I knew this would happen but I'll miss him anyway.
6.03.2004
My dad came back home today. He's going to stay. Obviously, it will be very difficult for a while. Emotional wreckage ahead.
I can't stop crying because I'm happy he's back, but really angry that he left in the first place. This leaving and coming back just feeds my abandonment issues. Damn men.
Very appreciative of all the offers to beat the crap out of him though. My friends are the best. Thanks.
I can't stop crying because I'm happy he's back, but really angry that he left in the first place. This leaving and coming back just feeds my abandonment issues. Damn men.
Very appreciative of all the offers to beat the crap out of him though. My friends are the best. Thanks.
Decided to simplify my life... no more drama. No more desperate and dependent yearnings for sad fucks sitting around like Jon Favreau in Swingers. I'm no tall gorgeous blond to turn the eye and make them forget about their burningly disastrous past. But I'm not a cheap beer can to suck dry and toss aside.
Not that I'm god's gift, I'm pretty fucked myself. In attempts to be a nice person, I've been personally involved into a psychological mess of a friendship and subordinated my interests for male attention. I hate myself for it, but couldn't stop. It's as if I felt good to let someone use me emotionally. This last week, I constantly visualized stabbing myself in the chest, and going on with my day as if I didn't have a knife sticking out of me, and twisting the knife around once in a while to remind me how much I hurt myself.
But enough of this gory masochistic mess. Storytime.
Story #1: A sweet man, my co-worker Gene, my father's age, was out yesterday at lunch with his other buddies, other coworkers of his for over 30 years. We get close at my job; we travel a lot and have only each other's company for long periods of time. Anyway, the guy is cracking everyone up and laughing as usual when his eyes roll back into his head and he passes out. He died yesterday, with his friends. He was a helicopter gunner in Vietnam and had his face restructured after he got shot through the bridge of his nose. He was past retirement age and was going to retire this year, waiting for his wife to become eligible. Since a bunch of us were up in DC this week, and we all feel a bit removed and helpless, so we all drank like fish saw each other at our most human and drove home early today. We're going to miss his smiles and "chronic melancholia".
Story #2: One of my best friends, A, got a call at 1 am that his father is in the hospital. He's an older man, but he raised A and his sister by himself after his wife died of ovarian cancer when A was 4 years old. He's a scared old man, who can't speak english, begging for his son to see him. I haven't heard from them, but I hope he's not as bad as they say.
Story #3: Another one of my friends, H, just found out that her big sis from college is in a nursing home in a diabetic coma. She just turned 30.
I'm ashamed that my life is a self-created drama. Do we have to obsess about our lives to feel important, to feel somehow meaningful?
Not that I'm god's gift, I'm pretty fucked myself. In attempts to be a nice person, I've been personally involved into a psychological mess of a friendship and subordinated my interests for male attention. I hate myself for it, but couldn't stop. It's as if I felt good to let someone use me emotionally. This last week, I constantly visualized stabbing myself in the chest, and going on with my day as if I didn't have a knife sticking out of me, and twisting the knife around once in a while to remind me how much I hurt myself.
But enough of this gory masochistic mess. Storytime.
Story #1: A sweet man, my co-worker Gene, my father's age, was out yesterday at lunch with his other buddies, other coworkers of his for over 30 years. We get close at my job; we travel a lot and have only each other's company for long periods of time. Anyway, the guy is cracking everyone up and laughing as usual when his eyes roll back into his head and he passes out. He died yesterday, with his friends. He was a helicopter gunner in Vietnam and had his face restructured after he got shot through the bridge of his nose. He was past retirement age and was going to retire this year, waiting for his wife to become eligible. Since a bunch of us were up in DC this week, and we all feel a bit removed and helpless, so we all drank like fish saw each other at our most human and drove home early today. We're going to miss his smiles and "chronic melancholia".
Story #2: One of my best friends, A, got a call at 1 am that his father is in the hospital. He's an older man, but he raised A and his sister by himself after his wife died of ovarian cancer when A was 4 years old. He's a scared old man, who can't speak english, begging for his son to see him. I haven't heard from them, but I hope he's not as bad as they say.
Story #3: Another one of my friends, H, just found out that her big sis from college is in a nursing home in a diabetic coma. She just turned 30.
I'm ashamed that my life is a self-created drama. Do we have to obsess about our lives to feel important, to feel somehow meaningful?
5.26.2004
5.20.2004
What's worse than reading on the news that for the sake of war, we killed about 40 civilians yesterday, some attending a wedding?
Reading this crap: "What Pearl Harbor did to American patriotism, May 17 should do to the Christian level of awareness." Oh those wily psychopaths....comparing gay marriage to a military kamikaze battle that left thousands of people dead. Bless my soul...with that line of thinking, I might start attributing any tall blond women to Nazi Germany.
What's truly scary is that a lot of people get swayed by this bullshit logical fallacy replete with buzz words (oh, my gaw, those gays are unpatriotic, why this might as well be the christian holocaust). Next they'll be saying that we should kill non-Christians for the glory of God. Oh wait...
Reading this crap: "What Pearl Harbor did to American patriotism, May 17 should do to the Christian level of awareness." Oh those wily psychopaths....comparing gay marriage to a military kamikaze battle that left thousands of people dead. Bless my soul...with that line of thinking, I might start attributing any tall blond women to Nazi Germany.
What's truly scary is that a lot of people get swayed by this bullshit logical fallacy replete with buzz words (oh, my gaw, those gays are unpatriotic, why this might as well be the christian holocaust). Next they'll be saying that we should kill non-Christians for the glory of God. Oh wait...
5.19.2004
one more obsession gone (*sniff*)
quipping vampires to be replaced by mobsters who say fuck a lot (watched all of season 2 in front of my squirming mom, very entertaining). I just can't seem to get away from the gold chains....
quipping vampires to be replaced by mobsters who say fuck a lot (watched all of season 2 in front of my squirming mom, very entertaining). I just can't seem to get away from the gold chains....
5.14.2004
In search of inventive ways to avoid nearing deadline for draft of boring ass stuff that only Congress would care about, like where that $65 million went anyways. $65 million....peanuts.
So, instead of cranking out this highly important document, I search the internet for places to play volleyball, dream of eating greek food, and wonder what it would be like living as a fiery and birkenstocked socialist in Vermont. Ah. Much more entertaining than guzzling diet coke and listening to the Navy's initiatives on reassessing the force structure of littoral ship capabilities and our military's move toward more joint operations according to jiffycom...or was it the jizzy...no it was jiffypop. Yes, jiffypop.
So, instead of cranking out this highly important document, I search the internet for places to play volleyball, dream of eating greek food, and wonder what it would be like living as a fiery and birkenstocked socialist in Vermont. Ah. Much more entertaining than guzzling diet coke and listening to the Navy's initiatives on reassessing the force structure of littoral ship capabilities and our military's move toward more joint operations according to jiffycom...or was it the jizzy...no it was jiffypop. Yes, jiffypop.
5.12.2004
As I am too appalled by the events happening elsewhere in the world that I am beyond significant comment (except that we are digging ourselves into an incredibly deep grave), I bring you...
My beef for the day:
Cap sleeves and super low-slung jeans (or as I call them "ass crack pants", not to be confused with "shiny ass pants").
Like gaucho pants, victorian collars, neon oversized sweatshirts, and strapless bandeau polyester minidresses, what is popular in women's fashion often has nothing to do with what looks good on a woman.
In the eighties, when I was in elementary school, I distinctly remember wearing bright pink capri pants, yellow T-shirt, and a rainbow belt, with jelly shoes and multi-colored hair elastics (for that pony-tail on the side). I knew that I looked awful, but like other girls my age, I was conditioned early by Seventeen magazine and wanted to be cute. Instead, I was Rainbow Brite.
In the nineties, I wore a flannel, baby doll dresses, and lots of black. I was comfortable, but still looked awful. Even though I looked like a mix between Eddie Vedder and a sad homeless girl, at least I wasn't wearing parachute pants.
Now, in the time of flattering the figure with bias-cut skirts, sundresses and wrap shirts, comes the cap sleeve T-shirt and the low slung jeans. Often paired together, this popular outfit makes teens, young women, and trying-too-hard-to-be-young matrons remold their perfectly fine figures into visions of lumpy squeezed out flesh. You've all seen it, and I have yet to find someone who actually thinks it's sexy. When caught in close proximity to this horror, I'm caught between equal urges to back away from this science experiment, and to run up to the unfortunate girl, poke the oozing folds and laugh at the jiggles. (Yes, I am a bad and judgemental person--fuck you, you suck.)
Now, only a minor part of the blame goes to the female customer--they buy too-small shirts and who-needs-hips jeans in the delusion that they are still the same size as in high school or they need tight support because they lack bones. However, MOST of the blame goes toward retail companies that sell "fashion" to women. Although a woman wants to buy a shirt with some sort of sleeve and pants that both covers her nice round ass and her very feminine belly, our choices offered by these establishments are very skimpy.
For example, I was out shopping in search of generic T-shirts that had a close fit and some jeans, and all I found cap sleeved half shirts and ass crack pants. Cap sleeves have got to be the most unflattering cut--sleeves about 1-1/2 inches long with a border of ribbing or contrasting color, emphasizing the broadest part of any woman's arm, so that bicep and tricep appear to be fat. Pair that with pants cut so low that the zippers are a mere 2-inches and the "waistband" wraps over the widest part of the hips. To keep them on, one must either wear a belt or get a smaller size--whichever one does, pants still will fall down and pushes ass, crack and all, upward. Sad sight, isn't it? To add insult to injury, the only shirt in the whole store that did not have cap sleeves had "Donuts...it's best for dinner" printed on the front.
Obviously, I bought flip flops.
My beef for the day:
Cap sleeves and super low-slung jeans (or as I call them "ass crack pants", not to be confused with "shiny ass pants").
Like gaucho pants, victorian collars, neon oversized sweatshirts, and strapless bandeau polyester minidresses, what is popular in women's fashion often has nothing to do with what looks good on a woman.
In the eighties, when I was in elementary school, I distinctly remember wearing bright pink capri pants, yellow T-shirt, and a rainbow belt, with jelly shoes and multi-colored hair elastics (for that pony-tail on the side). I knew that I looked awful, but like other girls my age, I was conditioned early by Seventeen magazine and wanted to be cute. Instead, I was Rainbow Brite.
In the nineties, I wore a flannel, baby doll dresses, and lots of black. I was comfortable, but still looked awful. Even though I looked like a mix between Eddie Vedder and a sad homeless girl, at least I wasn't wearing parachute pants.
Now, in the time of flattering the figure with bias-cut skirts, sundresses and wrap shirts, comes the cap sleeve T-shirt and the low slung jeans. Often paired together, this popular outfit makes teens, young women, and trying-too-hard-to-be-young matrons remold their perfectly fine figures into visions of lumpy squeezed out flesh. You've all seen it, and I have yet to find someone who actually thinks it's sexy. When caught in close proximity to this horror, I'm caught between equal urges to back away from this science experiment, and to run up to the unfortunate girl, poke the oozing folds and laugh at the jiggles. (Yes, I am a bad and judgemental person--fuck you, you suck.)
Now, only a minor part of the blame goes to the female customer--they buy too-small shirts and who-needs-hips jeans in the delusion that they are still the same size as in high school or they need tight support because they lack bones. However, MOST of the blame goes toward retail companies that sell "fashion" to women. Although a woman wants to buy a shirt with some sort of sleeve and pants that both covers her nice round ass and her very feminine belly, our choices offered by these establishments are very skimpy.
For example, I was out shopping in search of generic T-shirts that had a close fit and some jeans, and all I found cap sleeved half shirts and ass crack pants. Cap sleeves have got to be the most unflattering cut--sleeves about 1-1/2 inches long with a border of ribbing or contrasting color, emphasizing the broadest part of any woman's arm, so that bicep and tricep appear to be fat. Pair that with pants cut so low that the zippers are a mere 2-inches and the "waistband" wraps over the widest part of the hips. To keep them on, one must either wear a belt or get a smaller size--whichever one does, pants still will fall down and pushes ass, crack and all, upward. Sad sight, isn't it? To add insult to injury, the only shirt in the whole store that did not have cap sleeves had "Donuts...it's best for dinner" printed on the front.
Obviously, I bought flip flops.
5.06.2004
Next up - star trek. *shudder*
As if there needs to be more proof I am a geek....Was very excited last night over Angel episode, since 1) I could understand Italian, 2) gotta love the Angel and Spike banter, 3) after visiting the WB set, I knew that "psuedo european town," and 3) completely recognized, and wanted, Andrew's Strong Bad T-shirt.
Or maybe it was all that cinco de mayo-ing (yeah, that's my excuse). Grande margarita!!
**For you trekkies out there, I apologize for the seemingly derisive tone. I watched star trek. I can distinguish the seasons of the 1st series by theme song variations. I had a crush on Captain Picard (hello...distinguished, accented, and commanding!) However, I don't go to cons, I don't read the novels, don't like that series with the Ferengi, and can't watch Scott Bakula in anything else but Quantum Leap. It's just that slippery slope towards complete and utter anti-social behavior that scares me, so I draw a fine line.
As if there needs to be more proof I am a geek....Was very excited last night over Angel episode, since 1) I could understand Italian, 2) gotta love the Angel and Spike banter, 3) after visiting the WB set, I knew that "psuedo european town," and 3) completely recognized, and wanted, Andrew's Strong Bad T-shirt.
Or maybe it was all that cinco de mayo-ing (yeah, that's my excuse). Grande margarita!!
**For you trekkies out there, I apologize for the seemingly derisive tone. I watched star trek. I can distinguish the seasons of the 1st series by theme song variations. I had a crush on Captain Picard (hello...distinguished, accented, and commanding!) However, I don't go to cons, I don't read the novels, don't like that series with the Ferengi, and can't watch Scott Bakula in anything else but Quantum Leap. It's just that slippery slope towards complete and utter anti-social behavior that scares me, so I draw a fine line.
5.04.2004
Suck suck suck, says the wee parasite.
Psychology is just so fun. I admit that I have a very unhealthy interest in the subject, and like the sado-masochist that I have designated myself to be, get a perverse glow from taking apart other people's problems and at the same time self-diagnose all my little quirks into major psychosis. Got great grades in it too, by memorizing every symptom, disease, treatment, and side-effects by thinking of "normal" people that I know. :)
But to spin off something that I mentioned in eL's geltab rant, I'm still very skeptical of psychiatry, psychology, and other mental/emotional studies. It's a very mushy and circumstantial science, and I believe most of it is motivated by money and luck. For example, I've researched extensively the different diseases and disorders and how they are diagnosed by symptom and severity, but could still see how these psychological problems are partly a cop-out. Sure, a person could be depressed. Bi-polar. Psychotic. Schzoid personality. Obsessive-compulsive. Anti-social. ADD. But when does it really become a disease that is physical, and corrected through medication, or just an emotional problem that a person with effort should be able to control? I know, I know....medication does help. There are tons of people who really improve with drugs and therapy. But how much of this cure is the disease and vice versa? As Bob pointed out, sometimes the reaction or withdrawal from the drug in fact causes other disorders. And when you add in the drug corporations pushing the medication, you wonder if drugs are given to improve symptoms or fatten wallets.
And what about those on the fringes, I wonder? The ones whose symptoms are just not severe enough to warrant diagnosis with an answer to life's problems? What makes them in no way physically disabled and just impulse control challenged? What makes psychologist know what is truly insane and what is just lazy? Severity to me is all relative, and I still don't see how a person who is 1-week depressed is told to "brighten up and get moving" when a 2-week depressed person is given a pill. Maybe I'm harsh and judgemental, but I see no difference between a psychotic killer and a criminally liable murderer.
Psychology is just so fun. I admit that I have a very unhealthy interest in the subject, and like the sado-masochist that I have designated myself to be, get a perverse glow from taking apart other people's problems and at the same time self-diagnose all my little quirks into major psychosis. Got great grades in it too, by memorizing every symptom, disease, treatment, and side-effects by thinking of "normal" people that I know. :)
But to spin off something that I mentioned in eL's geltab rant, I'm still very skeptical of psychiatry, psychology, and other mental/emotional studies. It's a very mushy and circumstantial science, and I believe most of it is motivated by money and luck. For example, I've researched extensively the different diseases and disorders and how they are diagnosed by symptom and severity, but could still see how these psychological problems are partly a cop-out. Sure, a person could be depressed. Bi-polar. Psychotic. Schzoid personality. Obsessive-compulsive. Anti-social. ADD. But when does it really become a disease that is physical, and corrected through medication, or just an emotional problem that a person with effort should be able to control? I know, I know....medication does help. There are tons of people who really improve with drugs and therapy. But how much of this cure is the disease and vice versa? As Bob pointed out, sometimes the reaction or withdrawal from the drug in fact causes other disorders. And when you add in the drug corporations pushing the medication, you wonder if drugs are given to improve symptoms or fatten wallets.
And what about those on the fringes, I wonder? The ones whose symptoms are just not severe enough to warrant diagnosis with an answer to life's problems? What makes them in no way physically disabled and just impulse control challenged? What makes psychologist know what is truly insane and what is just lazy? Severity to me is all relative, and I still don't see how a person who is 1-week depressed is told to "brighten up and get moving" when a 2-week depressed person is given a pill. Maybe I'm harsh and judgemental, but I see no difference between a psychotic killer and a criminally liable murderer.
5.03.2004
In lieu of more parental unit suckage, I bring you:
1) more Myers-Briggs fun--I just can't seem to break free from that ENTP
and 2) the Black and Blue Album.
P.S. Not that one. As if.
1) more Myers-Briggs fun--I just can't seem to break free from that ENTP
and 2) the Black and Blue Album.
P.S. Not that one. As if.
4.29.2004
Oh dear god, this vivid imagination must go!!
As if it isn't bad enough that I can recall nice scarring memories from childhood in full technicolor glory (bunnies getting raked over and the sky turning into blood--thanks mom, yes watership down was a cartoon, but not for children)...
But now, it's the Trumpster....
Let me explain, as I'm dodging work on this government's version of the "weenis," I like to look through the various news media via the internet, as in trash, trash, and more trash, sprinkled in with a bit of military diatribe. Today, it was the A&E section of salon.com...and I see the blip "Trump proposes to girlfriend"
...and suddenly...
I see a sweaty red faced, mostly naked lump of a Trump, straddled by the newest blond lifesize Barbie, while he grunted, "Fire me, fire me! Yah!"
*shudder* I understand that normally when people are dating, they are having sex. Also, Donnie boy specifically must have at some point since he has progeny. Although a good romp in my head usually entertains me pretty well, this scene horrifies my mind like watching Tammy Faye Baker get a boob job....things that may happen but I don't need to see.
I wonder what psychological issues caused that flash of disturbing yuck. Must start drinking at work.
As if it isn't bad enough that I can recall nice scarring memories from childhood in full technicolor glory (bunnies getting raked over and the sky turning into blood--thanks mom, yes watership down was a cartoon, but not for children)...
But now, it's the Trumpster....
Let me explain, as I'm dodging work on this government's version of the "weenis," I like to look through the various news media via the internet, as in trash, trash, and more trash, sprinkled in with a bit of military diatribe. Today, it was the A&E section of salon.com...and I see the blip "Trump proposes to girlfriend"
...and suddenly...
I see a sweaty red faced, mostly naked lump of a Trump, straddled by the newest blond lifesize Barbie, while he grunted, "Fire me, fire me! Yah!"
*shudder* I understand that normally when people are dating, they are having sex. Also, Donnie boy specifically must have at some point since he has progeny. Although a good romp in my head usually entertains me pretty well, this scene horrifies my mind like watching Tammy Faye Baker get a boob job....things that may happen but I don't need to see.
I wonder what psychological issues caused that flash of disturbing yuck. Must start drinking at work.
4.28.2004
Hmm, considering relocating....any suggestions?
I know I've done this before, but I had to doublecheck which places I've been:
create your own personalized map of the USA
or write about it on the open travel guide
...exactly 50%...I need to travel more, New Mexico anyone??
On another note: someone just found my site by searching for "a racially balanced group of mutant children twitch arrhythmically"...you've gotta love fans. At least it wasn't "blowjob."
I know I've done this before, but I had to doublecheck which places I've been:
create your own personalized map of the USA
or write about it on the open travel guide
...exactly 50%...I need to travel more, New Mexico anyone??
On another note: someone just found my site by searching for "a racially balanced group of mutant children twitch arrhythmically"...you've gotta love fans. At least it wasn't "blowjob."
4.27.2004
The return of slacker blogger supreme: bow down to my utter lack of wit and motivation!!
Seriously, you wonder what's up with the g? Only enough to bring a happy idealistic girl down and make her feel like the helpless lump she is.
There's insane work and travel schedule with goddamn negative anal crap ass bitch motherfuckers (aka accountants, lawyers and bureaucrats, oh my), who make me question the value, quality, and intelligence of my career. Up fast or out faster? Oh goodie, I get a choice.
Then, questioning the rhyme and reason of relationships and marriage. My 5-year relationship with my boyfriend through college and law school ended months ago since we've been far apart, uncommunicative, and underappreciative in the last couple of years. I had been doing the dating thing with the scum of the earth who want to fuck me and the sweet guys who are looking for someone else, but my ego's too bashed and I'm tired of the dance. I'm informed by my emotionally distant and verbally abusive mother that after 32 years of "marriage," my emotionally distant and physically abusive father will be living in another country with a former girlfriend, never due to return, and will be leaving in a few days (oh, and can you bring him to the airport?). Attending the third of five weddings I've been invited to this year, and being asked incessantly when "my time will be" to marry and spawn like a proper girl. Being pointed out repeatedly that I will have loads of trouble "hooking" a man as I am too independent, don't play games, and it's not my time anyway since I haven't been alone long enough and maybe I'll get someone the second time around, after he'll settle. Oye, as if that will be the solution to all my problems.
And, obviously, there's a lot going on in the world that I have no control over, like bombings, deaths, and political maneuverings that just sicken me. Sure we can bitch and bitch all day long about President Bush's policies and America's economy, but I absolutely hate how the deaths of people hinge on what information is leaked out or what action is taken in pursuit of reelection. Why does it have to work this way?
So, you see, helpless. Downward spiral of ick. Please someone point out to me something good.
Seriously, you wonder what's up with the g? Only enough to bring a happy idealistic girl down and make her feel like the helpless lump she is.
There's insane work and travel schedule with goddamn negative anal crap ass bitch motherfuckers (aka accountants, lawyers and bureaucrats, oh my), who make me question the value, quality, and intelligence of my career. Up fast or out faster? Oh goodie, I get a choice.
Then, questioning the rhyme and reason of relationships and marriage. My 5-year relationship with my boyfriend through college and law school ended months ago since we've been far apart, uncommunicative, and underappreciative in the last couple of years. I had been doing the dating thing with the scum of the earth who want to fuck me and the sweet guys who are looking for someone else, but my ego's too bashed and I'm tired of the dance. I'm informed by my emotionally distant and verbally abusive mother that after 32 years of "marriage," my emotionally distant and physically abusive father will be living in another country with a former girlfriend, never due to return, and will be leaving in a few days (oh, and can you bring him to the airport?). Attending the third of five weddings I've been invited to this year, and being asked incessantly when "my time will be" to marry and spawn like a proper girl. Being pointed out repeatedly that I will have loads of trouble "hooking" a man as I am too independent, don't play games, and it's not my time anyway since I haven't been alone long enough and maybe I'll get someone the second time around, after he'll settle. Oye, as if that will be the solution to all my problems.
And, obviously, there's a lot going on in the world that I have no control over, like bombings, deaths, and political maneuverings that just sicken me. Sure we can bitch and bitch all day long about President Bush's policies and America's economy, but I absolutely hate how the deaths of people hinge on what information is leaked out or what action is taken in pursuit of reelection. Why does it have to work this way?
So, you see, helpless. Downward spiral of ick. Please someone point out to me something good.
4.22.2004
Haven't had time or motivation to blog, but have new appreciation for life and friends, as my family and work are just fucked up.
P.S. Atlanta needs an enema. Y'all need to loosen up. For a city renowned for its southern sweetness, the reality is it has been flooded (or dam(n)ed, haha!) with northern and western anality. But it seems that the writers are fooled....Atlanta ranked as #7?? Norfolk a great town for singles?? umm more like a great town for bars, sailors, and underage (or overage) delinqency...hell, it's #17? Dayton, Ohio is even on the top 50 list? Have the writers even been to these places? Nope. The computer generated list is derived from "sources" and added a value for "untangibles." Seems sketchy to me.
P.S. Atlanta needs an enema. Y'all need to loosen up. For a city renowned for its southern sweetness, the reality is it has been flooded (or dam(n)ed, haha!) with northern and western anality. But it seems that the writers are fooled....Atlanta ranked as #7?? Norfolk a great town for singles?? umm more like a great town for bars, sailors, and underage (or overage) delinqency...hell, it's #17? Dayton, Ohio is even on the top 50 list? Have the writers even been to these places? Nope. The computer generated list is derived from "sources" and added a value for "untangibles." Seems sketchy to me.
4.16.2004
Nothing like renewing a TS clearance to make you hunt down those old friends that you've haven't seen in a while.
One in particular that I've been thinking about--Jon (the original "my Jon") used to be my #1 contact (besides munkeigh and heathen) as I've known him since junior high and we usually keep up on what each other is doing, but I noticed that I haven't spoken to him in about two years. Usually, Jon and I got together at least 4 times a year, even when he lived 8 hours away, just to snuggle up on the couch and talk about nothing....yeah, his girlfriends really didn't like me much. Anyway, we had good timing and always seemed to have the urge to see each other at the same time, but then I moved, changed my phone numbers and email at the same time he moved into a new apartment and we've since lost touch. But about a week ago, I had a vivid dream about needing me to jump out of a plane with him because he could trust me. Weird. I think he's finally getting married to his girlfriend and he's trying to track me down so that I can go to the wedding. Sigh, I miss him. Time for the last resort--calling up his dad (aka Ned Flanders--yes he answers the phone with a hi-di-ho!) to find out where he is.
One in particular that I've been thinking about--Jon (the original "my Jon") used to be my #1 contact (besides munkeigh and heathen) as I've known him since junior high and we usually keep up on what each other is doing, but I noticed that I haven't spoken to him in about two years. Usually, Jon and I got together at least 4 times a year, even when he lived 8 hours away, just to snuggle up on the couch and talk about nothing....yeah, his girlfriends really didn't like me much. Anyway, we had good timing and always seemed to have the urge to see each other at the same time, but then I moved, changed my phone numbers and email at the same time he moved into a new apartment and we've since lost touch. But about a week ago, I had a vivid dream about needing me to jump out of a plane with him because he could trust me. Weird. I think he's finally getting married to his girlfriend and he's trying to track me down so that I can go to the wedding. Sigh, I miss him. Time for the last resort--calling up his dad (aka Ned Flanders--yes he answers the phone with a hi-di-ho!) to find out where he is.
4.15.2004
I hate that others' stress rubs off onto me so easily. Want to be the nothing's-gonna-change-my-world girl, but realize that usually comes with being blissfully ignorant. So instead, I am completely frazzled by the large pile of:
--multiplying assignments, multiple bosses, quick deadlines, high expectations, promotion competition, and no time
--stupid co-dependent co-workers
--next week's travel to rude southern town to be Pinky to the Brain who is also highly stressed and possibly mourning his eye from the Oklahoma City bombing (team decided I'd be least likely to piss him off, as he understands my jokes of rubber pants our size and burlap chaffing, yay)
--the possibility of colorblindness since constantly disagree with everyone on what color everything is
--upcoming weddings galore and harsh reminders from not-so-nice people of oldness, singleness, and non-reproductiveness (didn't think too much of it, but now that you reminded me, argh!)
--realizing how annoying I am when I am annoyed by everything, but fighting anti-social tendencies to say fuck it all and buy large new TV
Sigh. I'm not really that bad. Tomorrow I will probably be all happy again when everyone is on leave and I will always have caffeine, sugar, and long drives. But for now, I will decide on the candy dish, flatware, table linens, and/or fondue pot for yet another wedding. And I will refrain from pegging the next person who walks into my office with my stress-relief ball. (Hee hee!)
--multiplying assignments, multiple bosses, quick deadlines, high expectations, promotion competition, and no time
--stupid co-dependent co-workers
--next week's travel to rude southern town to be Pinky to the Brain who is also highly stressed and possibly mourning his eye from the Oklahoma City bombing (team decided I'd be least likely to piss him off, as he understands my jokes of rubber pants our size and burlap chaffing, yay)
--the possibility of colorblindness since constantly disagree with everyone on what color everything is
--upcoming weddings galore and harsh reminders from not-so-nice people of oldness, singleness, and non-reproductiveness (didn't think too much of it, but now that you reminded me, argh!)
--realizing how annoying I am when I am annoyed by everything, but fighting anti-social tendencies to say fuck it all and buy large new TV
Sigh. I'm not really that bad. Tomorrow I will probably be all happy again when everyone is on leave and I will always have caffeine, sugar, and long drives. But for now, I will decide on the candy dish, flatware, table linens, and/or fondue pot for yet another wedding. And I will refrain from pegging the next person who walks into my office with my stress-relief ball. (Hee hee!)
4.14.2004
The trees are out to get me.
If they aren't, they should...for all their brethren that have and will fall to fulfill my job. My save-the-earth guilt and flashbacks of canvassing for the Alaskan wildlife are haunting me. Why is it that we've moved into a computerized, electronic environment and here I am printing out copies in sextuplet so that all the bosses can read every change I've made and keep an extra copy (for the file)? Bureaucratic paper trail, my ass! Your monitor is there for a reason people: it provides, for your viewing pleasure, a exact duplicate of what is printed on these ba-jillion pages.
But maybe they already are after us...they are exacting their revenge in the forms of suicidal terrorism hidden by natural disasters (falling trees on houses, forest fires) and pollen (which leads to allergies, medication, immunity, addiction, market competition, greediness, black market trade, outsourcing, dehumanization, and complete annihilation of the world!) Oh, the horror!*
*Disclaimer: No trees were harmed in the making of this tirade. The above statement is completely fabricated and if any resemblance to real tirades exists, it is purely accidental. The producers of this blog do not endorse the views of this tirade and any feelings hurt forthwith shall not be their liability. No one endorses the accuracy, completeness, or reliability of any advice, opinion, statement, or other information displayed, uploaded, or attributed to this tirade. Any reliance upon it shall be at the reader's risk.
Hee, hee, I guess law school's worth something after all. The ability to talk out of one's ass is essential to life, liberty, and the pursuit of complete and utter bull.
If they aren't, they should...for all their brethren that have and will fall to fulfill my job. My save-the-earth guilt and flashbacks of canvassing for the Alaskan wildlife are haunting me. Why is it that we've moved into a computerized, electronic environment and here I am printing out copies in sextuplet so that all the bosses can read every change I've made and keep an extra copy (for the file)? Bureaucratic paper trail, my ass! Your monitor is there for a reason people: it provides, for your viewing pleasure, a exact duplicate of what is printed on these ba-jillion pages.
But maybe they already are after us...they are exacting their revenge in the forms of suicidal terrorism hidden by natural disasters (falling trees on houses, forest fires) and pollen (which leads to allergies, medication, immunity, addiction, market competition, greediness, black market trade, outsourcing, dehumanization, and complete annihilation of the world!) Oh, the horror!*
*Disclaimer: No trees were harmed in the making of this tirade. The above statement is completely fabricated and if any resemblance to real tirades exists, it is purely accidental. The producers of this blog do not endorse the views of this tirade and any feelings hurt forthwith shall not be their liability. No one endorses the accuracy, completeness, or reliability of any advice, opinion, statement, or other information displayed, uploaded, or attributed to this tirade. Any reliance upon it shall be at the reader's risk.
Hee, hee, I guess law school's worth something after all. The ability to talk out of one's ass is essential to life, liberty, and the pursuit of complete and utter bull.
4.12.2004
My nose is way too sensitive for the gym. Maybe it's gotten too acclimated to the dry air conditioning of my office, but....ick.
Tonight was a nauseating bouquet of scents: To my right--musky cologne guy, to my left--highly perfumed guy (huh?), in front of me--haven't washed my ass in weeks girl, and last but not least, behind me--french fry guy.
As munkeigh has pointed out, it is a gym. And I agree, there should be some level of tolerance of sweaty smell.
But this is not pre-revolutionary France!! We do not cover up stench with perfume, nor do we believe bathing will kill us. Vive les bains!!
Tonight was a nauseating bouquet of scents: To my right--musky cologne guy, to my left--highly perfumed guy (huh?), in front of me--haven't washed my ass in weeks girl, and last but not least, behind me--french fry guy.
As munkeigh has pointed out, it is a gym. And I agree, there should be some level of tolerance of sweaty smell.
But this is not pre-revolutionary France!! We do not cover up stench with perfume, nor do we believe bathing will kill us. Vive les bains!!
4.11.2004
Wanted: A man who can boogie down.
Nothing is as shocking and amusing as watching a staid white boy teacher with a roguish smile get his boogie on. Need some more of that! Seriously, the Stu-pot (aka the original thug from P-town) rocks my...and so many of his groupies' ...world.
But enough gushing for the lot of us.
The real question is: why is it so hard to find a guy who can dance? Is it an embarassment thing? A genetically lacking rhythm thing? Or a I-don't-want-to-be-thought-of-as-a-dancing-queen thing? WELL, let me drop a hint for the gents, guys who are comfortable to get their groove on are hot. Yes, I said hot. I don't drop that word too much either. Women think of dancing as a complete indicator of action in bed. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
Nothing is as shocking and amusing as watching a staid white boy teacher with a roguish smile get his boogie on. Need some more of that! Seriously, the Stu-pot (aka the original thug from P-town) rocks my...and so many of his groupies' ...world.
But enough gushing for the lot of us.
The real question is: why is it so hard to find a guy who can dance? Is it an embarassment thing? A genetically lacking rhythm thing? Or a I-don't-want-to-be-thought-of-as-a-dancing-queen thing? WELL, let me drop a hint for the gents, guys who are comfortable to get their groove on are hot. Yes, I said hot. I don't drop that word too much either. Women think of dancing as a complete indicator of action in bed. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
4.09.2004
let's go away for a while, you and I, to a strange and distant land where they speak no word of truth, but we don't understand anyway...
sorry sorry sorry, senors. i never thought people actually read this trash--my lack of blogging has caused some minor ripples in the peanut gallery. i intended to pop back in glory complete with pretty pictures of SoCal, but instead was too lazy to upload them (special dedication to eL, i will email you the jimmy feet. yes. the jimmy feet.)
...and then another week passed as i was guilted into excessive hours of torturous bureaucratic hell (ah, government)...
anywho, i need to throw a party soon, have a major urge for a good shindig. must commemorate my 28th with something other than a memory of icky plane smell (although paco was waiting for me at home...ah paco).
and ms. r, please come senza big daddy, or i will sic the cats on his allergic ass. and please no sex on my sink.
sorry sorry sorry, senors. i never thought people actually read this trash--my lack of blogging has caused some minor ripples in the peanut gallery. i intended to pop back in glory complete with pretty pictures of SoCal, but instead was too lazy to upload them (special dedication to eL, i will email you the jimmy feet. yes. the jimmy feet.)
...and then another week passed as i was guilted into excessive hours of torturous bureaucratic hell (ah, government)...
anywho, i need to throw a party soon, have a major urge for a good shindig. must commemorate my 28th with something other than a memory of icky plane smell (although paco was waiting for me at home...ah paco).
and ms. r, please come senza big daddy, or i will sic the cats on his allergic ass. and please no sex on my sink.
3.24.2004
As an avid fan of the discovery channel and a viewer of at least 4000 documentaries on the sex life of bugs, bats, and wildebeast....I've got to say, this is soo fucking cool. I am bedazzled by nature's wonders. Thank you RL for bringing the vampiric sexual practices of deep sea angler fishes to my attention.
Besides working way too many long hours recently, trying to "review" (aka screw over) the Army and Navy and find source documentation for the word "actual," I've been dreaming about my upcoming trip to San Diego and LA. Although I've managed to stay in post iron curtain Budapest for 2 weeks, in all my 27 years, I've never once visited either of these very awesome and overpopulated cities. The sibs will keep me on track with the tourist bits, and I'm looking forward to checking out the zoo (pandas, polar bears, and apes, oh my!!!), but any suggestions out there for other cool and/or hilarious fun?
If Munkeigh were with me, and not the conserva-twins, I would surely track down my strange little man and challenge him to a foosball game...
Besides working way too many long hours recently, trying to "review" (aka screw over) the Army and Navy and find source documentation for the word "actual," I've been dreaming about my upcoming trip to San Diego and LA. Although I've managed to stay in post iron curtain Budapest for 2 weeks, in all my 27 years, I've never once visited either of these very awesome and overpopulated cities. The sibs will keep me on track with the tourist bits, and I'm looking forward to checking out the zoo (pandas, polar bears, and apes, oh my!!!), but any suggestions out there for other cool and/or hilarious fun?
If Munkeigh were with me, and not the conserva-twins, I would surely track down my strange little man and challenge him to a foosball game...
3.23.2004
3.22.2004
Thank you Mr. Coffee for never letting me ever again have a normal sleep schedule.
I remember how I used to like just the smell of coffee. With lots of sugar and cream it all became liquid hot ice cream coffee goodness. Then came the Irish coffee and the long nights hanging out at Meridian with Heathen, Special Sauce, Jim, and Ducky (I'm sorry..."Dave"...) writing really insipid poetry on the walls with black marker. And then, 10pm sugarspressos with the ultimate frisbee guys to keep up with the games and late night grocery shopping. Now the fun new coffee grinder, super toasty roast, and grande buonissima macchina pull at my insides to make a tasty few cups at midnight. Oye. Damn addictions.
Anywho, since I'm up, let me rant about something that's been bugging me like a repeated sharp jab in the eye. Someone please explain 311 to me. Why do they suck so much? Is it the stupid amber song? Is it the fucking joke of "reggae/funk/alternative/pop/rock/rap/metal" crap that they spout? Oh, no. Sure, they suck because of these reasons, but they didn't hit the earbleed level of suck until they 1) redid the Cure's Lovesong 2) with a bad imitation of a trippingly happy Robert Smith (this isn't Love Cats, people!) 3) sold it to the media moguls of "let's create a romantic movie with Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler AGAIN" and last but not least 4) convinced indiscriminate (aka deaf) radio listeners to request it because they just love that song. ARGH.
I know that covers are a dangerous thing...
- They could be exactly the same as the original--making them nostalgic or lame (It's My Life - No Doubt, Boys of Summer - The Ataris);
- They could be done in the style of the new band--making them refreshing or an afront (Hurt - Johnny Cash, Landslide - Dixie Chicks); or
- They could be mixed into another new song--making them a rap song (take your pick).
Your best bet is to choose one of the three styles and go full force. That's where 311 shows their suckage. They try to mold their pothead dippiness into the depressing earnestness of Smith's style, copying every inflection of the original vocals, but to a melting waxy bop that is full frontal 311 bad.
That's it, Tori version (purrfectly excellent) to the rescue, 15 times daily to wash out the ears, and to rediscover the meaning of good covers.
I remember how I used to like just the smell of coffee. With lots of sugar and cream it all became liquid hot ice cream coffee goodness. Then came the Irish coffee and the long nights hanging out at Meridian with Heathen, Special Sauce, Jim, and Ducky (I'm sorry..."Dave"...) writing really insipid poetry on the walls with black marker. And then, 10pm sugarspressos with the ultimate frisbee guys to keep up with the games and late night grocery shopping. Now the fun new coffee grinder, super toasty roast, and grande buonissima macchina pull at my insides to make a tasty few cups at midnight. Oye. Damn addictions.
Anywho, since I'm up, let me rant about something that's been bugging me like a repeated sharp jab in the eye. Someone please explain 311 to me. Why do they suck so much? Is it the stupid amber song? Is it the fucking joke of "reggae/funk/alternative/pop/rock/rap/metal" crap that they spout? Oh, no. Sure, they suck because of these reasons, but they didn't hit the earbleed level of suck until they 1) redid the Cure's Lovesong 2) with a bad imitation of a trippingly happy Robert Smith (this isn't Love Cats, people!) 3) sold it to the media moguls of "let's create a romantic movie with Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler AGAIN" and last but not least 4) convinced indiscriminate (aka deaf) radio listeners to request it because they just love that song. ARGH.
I know that covers are a dangerous thing...
- They could be exactly the same as the original--making them nostalgic or lame (It's My Life - No Doubt, Boys of Summer - The Ataris);
- They could be done in the style of the new band--making them refreshing or an afront (Hurt - Johnny Cash, Landslide - Dixie Chicks); or
- They could be mixed into another new song--making them a rap song (take your pick).
Your best bet is to choose one of the three styles and go full force. That's where 311 shows their suckage. They try to mold their pothead dippiness into the depressing earnestness of Smith's style, copying every inflection of the original vocals, but to a melting waxy bop that is full frontal 311 bad.
That's it, Tori version (purrfectly excellent) to the rescue, 15 times daily to wash out the ears, and to rediscover the meaning of good covers.
3.21.2004
Tag game. My ass.
Mr. Cheese, or is it Tao do Queijo, I truly appreciate you even paying attention to this blog. As I don't want to turn away my loyal readers with my pet peeve of chain letters, forwards, and the like, I will play...my way.
Queijo Rei, eu etiquetei este blog. I've now passed on the funness of your game to the Portuguese world.
Mr. Cheese, or is it Tao do Queijo, I truly appreciate you even paying attention to this blog. As I don't want to turn away my loyal readers with my pet peeve of chain letters, forwards, and the like, I will play...my way.
Queijo Rei, eu etiquetei este blog. I've now passed on the funness of your game to the Portuguese world.
3.20.2004
Just when I thought I was getting more serious....the highlight of my evening was to have my ass squeezed by a cute (albeit very drunk, possibly high, and spitting) art teacher. Oh yeah. Need new forms of entertainment.
So now, I've hit munkeigh heaven--radiohead blaring, ben affleck lusting. I say, goddamn.
So now, I've hit munkeigh heaven--radiohead blaring, ben affleck lusting. I say, goddamn.
3.18.2004
so strange
woke up to a world
that I am not a part
except when I can play its stranger
Sometimes I wonder what happened to my insatiable interest in arguing all the ins and outs of current events and the philosophical repercussions. It used to be fun finding the truth, twisting around the logic, and formulating theories at 3am.
But I went down the wrong path---I went to law school. Now, as much as lawyers get stupid jokes thrown at them and most really are gross specimens of human, the law profession is not inherently terrible. It's supposed to be profound, defending the right, helping the helpless (great now I sound like Doyle)....but law school is completely different. If you revel in finding the truth, discussing and criticizing other viewpoints, law school is not your calling. However, if you love to tear up people's egos, feed off the blood of the weak, blow up your already oversized ego, and hear yourself talk loud and long....law school is the place for you. Lawyers are trained to be the scumsucking assholes they are through pure survival. Kinda like bootcamp for the mind and ego. They will break you down just to build you back up into the strong nasty lawyer you never thought you could be.
Law school is full of those like I was back then--argumentative, articulate, and passionate about all things that affect everyone. Then the competition and fear settles in, and all sense of fairness and agape are swallowed up by a cloud of compulsive cigarette smoke. Everything you say is wrong or maybe a little right, but basically wrong. The classmate you think is your friend will kick you to the curb to get into law review. Classes are vocal WWF matches where the biggest, loudest, and most annoying triumph. Getting a job for $100,000 is peanuts. How can you pay for that new H2 with that?
Luckily, some graduates can go on to be stronger, louder, and more sure that if they insist long enough, they will be right. They, after all, have picked up lots of great offensive and defensive ploys that speed them right through a layman's argument---such as pointing out "logical fallacies," biased sources of fact, and, inter alia, lots of supercilious application of obscure and archaic terminology. They've also picked up drinking habits and a complete disregard for anyone that doesn't benefit them. Others, like me, are still fighting the law school training, avoiding long drawn out debates and distracting ourselves with creative blissful ignorance. But basically unhappy because we once loved intelligent discussion, but like a beaten puppy, now flinch and dodge once it gets ugly.
Anyway, the point behind this tirade is that I was wondering where my passion for the world went. It got buried by a jaded point of view way too early. No wonder most good lawyers are old and the eye-gougingly annoying young whippersnappers are just that. And yet, I still feel very guilty that I haven't gotten my license and received the badge of super-jaded but rich. So, here's the plan:
--I will get that damn license. And then figure out if I want to become that hard-nosed DA I wanted to be and be really scary, or use my knowledge to help out those that can't help themselves (our president excluded), or continue as I am, happy that I finally got to beat that bitch down.
--REinterest myself in what's going on and fight the law school training to avoid arguments altogether or chew people out in fits of competitive righteousness.
--Ignore the guilt if none of this works.
woke up to a world
that I am not a part
except when I can play its stranger
Sometimes I wonder what happened to my insatiable interest in arguing all the ins and outs of current events and the philosophical repercussions. It used to be fun finding the truth, twisting around the logic, and formulating theories at 3am.
But I went down the wrong path---I went to law school. Now, as much as lawyers get stupid jokes thrown at them and most really are gross specimens of human, the law profession is not inherently terrible. It's supposed to be profound, defending the right, helping the helpless (great now I sound like Doyle)....but law school is completely different. If you revel in finding the truth, discussing and criticizing other viewpoints, law school is not your calling. However, if you love to tear up people's egos, feed off the blood of the weak, blow up your already oversized ego, and hear yourself talk loud and long....law school is the place for you. Lawyers are trained to be the scumsucking assholes they are through pure survival. Kinda like bootcamp for the mind and ego. They will break you down just to build you back up into the strong nasty lawyer you never thought you could be.
Law school is full of those like I was back then--argumentative, articulate, and passionate about all things that affect everyone. Then the competition and fear settles in, and all sense of fairness and agape are swallowed up by a cloud of compulsive cigarette smoke. Everything you say is wrong or maybe a little right, but basically wrong. The classmate you think is your friend will kick you to the curb to get into law review. Classes are vocal WWF matches where the biggest, loudest, and most annoying triumph. Getting a job for $100,000 is peanuts. How can you pay for that new H2 with that?
Luckily, some graduates can go on to be stronger, louder, and more sure that if they insist long enough, they will be right. They, after all, have picked up lots of great offensive and defensive ploys that speed them right through a layman's argument---such as pointing out "logical fallacies," biased sources of fact, and, inter alia, lots of supercilious application of obscure and archaic terminology. They've also picked up drinking habits and a complete disregard for anyone that doesn't benefit them. Others, like me, are still fighting the law school training, avoiding long drawn out debates and distracting ourselves with creative blissful ignorance. But basically unhappy because we once loved intelligent discussion, but like a beaten puppy, now flinch and dodge once it gets ugly.
Anyway, the point behind this tirade is that I was wondering where my passion for the world went. It got buried by a jaded point of view way too early. No wonder most good lawyers are old and the eye-gougingly annoying young whippersnappers are just that. And yet, I still feel very guilty that I haven't gotten my license and received the badge of super-jaded but rich. So, here's the plan:
--I will get that damn license. And then figure out if I want to become that hard-nosed DA I wanted to be and be really scary, or use my knowledge to help out those that can't help themselves (our president excluded), or continue as I am, happy that I finally got to beat that bitch down.
--REinterest myself in what's going on and fight the law school training to avoid arguments altogether or chew people out in fits of competitive righteousness.
--Ignore the guilt if none of this works.
You know it's sad when you have to end your night disregarding food for computer time. But I'm trying to catch up with my email, since I've been so freaking absentminded and writer's-blocked. Damn my job. I write reports all day and creativity just dries up when you have to figure out if the proper term is "appropriated" or "adjusted designated." So, my night is full--the kitties are locked in heated battle and I'm moaning along with Tori.
I snagged this off of Heathen's site--survey me this:
1.WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME?
(as translated) Queen King Noisy Woman
2.CAN YOU SING WELL?
I'd like to think so, but I'm probably delusional. I do like to sing in the car, especially when others are looking at me funny.
3.WHERE IS YOUR FAVORITE SPOT ON YOUR BODY TO BE KISSED?
Nape of my neck. It makes me way too easy.
4.WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE BREAKFAST FOOD?
Homemade sweet rolls--the ones with 4 kinds of sugar in them. Yum.
5. DO YOU EVER DANCE IN THE MIRROR NAKED?
Way too much fun not to. But hey, I could never control the boogie.
6.WHAT DO YOU WASH FIRST IN THE SHOWER?
My hair. The question is: which shampoo?
7.DO YOU FLOSS?
Nope.
8.DO YOU PLACE THE NAPKIN ON YOUR LAP WHEN YOU GO TO A RESTAURANT?
Yes. Must protect the napkin in the lap :)
9.DO YOU KISS ON A FIRST DATE?
Depends if I like him.
10.WOULD YOU HAVE SEX ON A FIRST DATE?
Usually not.
11.HAVE YOU EVER MADE THE FIRST MOVE?
Yes--men can be wusses.
12.HAVE YOU EVER DONE IT IN YOUR PARENTS BED?
Um, yes...
13.MICHAEL JACKSON OR MADONNA?
Argh, I have to choose? That's like asking me to choose between my children...wait we are talking about "worse" right?
14.IS YOUR BELLY BUTTON CLEAN?
Most of the time.
15.DO YOU EVER TALK TO YOUR ANIMALS LIKE THEY ARE A REAL PERSON?
If I talk to people like I talk to my cats, I'd live in a padded room.
16.WHAT WAS THE MOST ROMANTIC THING YOUVE EVER DONE FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND/GIRLFRIEND?
Took him out to dinner...in Venice. Then, we listened to the string orchestras in San Marco's square.
17. CAN YOU COUNT ON BOTH HANDS THE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE YOUVE SLEPT WITH?
Try one hand.
18. A LOT OF TONGUE OR LITTLE TONGUE?
Usually, lot of tongue = sloppy, so no. But when done right...
19. DO YOU LIKE YOUR FEET MASSAGED?
It's nice, but I'm ticklish.
20.DO YOU LIKE FOREPLAY OR JUST GET RIGHT TO IT?
Foreplay is always good, but not necessary. I mostly just like the sex.
21.HAVE YOU EVER FED A GIRL/GUY FRUIT DURING SEX?
Yes.
22.HAVE YOU EVER HOOKED UP WITH ANYONE ONLINE?
No. Yes. I forget.
23.LEO OR BRAD?
Who the hell is Leo? DiCrapio? Definitely Brad, then.
24.DO YOU READ OR WRITE POETRY?
Yes, both, but I still hold general scorn for most poetry, mine included.
25.WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SAID I LOVE YOU TO IN A ROMANTIC WAY..NOT INCLUDING AN ANIMAL OR FRIEND?
My ex-boyfriend G---.
26.SHOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH AN EX?
Usually, yes. As long as you don't want them dead that is.
27. DO YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF A NYMPHO?
No, but I think I think like one or at least like a man. It's entertaining when bored.
28.HEARTBROKEN OR BREAK HEARTS?
Both. Argh.
29.WOULD YOU LICK THE DIRTY GROUND IF SOMEONE ASKED U 2?
Ick no.
30.HEAVEN OR HELL?
According to who? Purgatory all the way.
I snagged this off of Heathen's site--survey me this:
1.WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME?
(as translated) Queen King Noisy Woman
2.CAN YOU SING WELL?
I'd like to think so, but I'm probably delusional. I do like to sing in the car, especially when others are looking at me funny.
3.WHERE IS YOUR FAVORITE SPOT ON YOUR BODY TO BE KISSED?
Nape of my neck. It makes me way too easy.
4.WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE BREAKFAST FOOD?
Homemade sweet rolls--the ones with 4 kinds of sugar in them. Yum.
5. DO YOU EVER DANCE IN THE MIRROR NAKED?
Way too much fun not to. But hey, I could never control the boogie.
6.WHAT DO YOU WASH FIRST IN THE SHOWER?
My hair. The question is: which shampoo?
7.DO YOU FLOSS?
Nope.
8.DO YOU PLACE THE NAPKIN ON YOUR LAP WHEN YOU GO TO A RESTAURANT?
Yes. Must protect the napkin in the lap :)
9.DO YOU KISS ON A FIRST DATE?
Depends if I like him.
10.WOULD YOU HAVE SEX ON A FIRST DATE?
Usually not.
11.HAVE YOU EVER MADE THE FIRST MOVE?
Yes--men can be wusses.
12.HAVE YOU EVER DONE IT IN YOUR PARENTS BED?
Um, yes...
13.MICHAEL JACKSON OR MADONNA?
Argh, I have to choose? That's like asking me to choose between my children...wait we are talking about "worse" right?
14.IS YOUR BELLY BUTTON CLEAN?
Most of the time.
15.DO YOU EVER TALK TO YOUR ANIMALS LIKE THEY ARE A REAL PERSON?
If I talk to people like I talk to my cats, I'd live in a padded room.
16.WHAT WAS THE MOST ROMANTIC THING YOUVE EVER DONE FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND/GIRLFRIEND?
Took him out to dinner...in Venice. Then, we listened to the string orchestras in San Marco's square.
17. CAN YOU COUNT ON BOTH HANDS THE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE YOUVE SLEPT WITH?
Try one hand.
18. A LOT OF TONGUE OR LITTLE TONGUE?
Usually, lot of tongue = sloppy, so no. But when done right...
19. DO YOU LIKE YOUR FEET MASSAGED?
It's nice, but I'm ticklish.
20.DO YOU LIKE FOREPLAY OR JUST GET RIGHT TO IT?
Foreplay is always good, but not necessary. I mostly just like the sex.
21.HAVE YOU EVER FED A GIRL/GUY FRUIT DURING SEX?
Yes.
22.HAVE YOU EVER HOOKED UP WITH ANYONE ONLINE?
No. Yes. I forget.
23.LEO OR BRAD?
Who the hell is Leo? DiCrapio? Definitely Brad, then.
24.DO YOU READ OR WRITE POETRY?
Yes, both, but I still hold general scorn for most poetry, mine included.
25.WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SAID I LOVE YOU TO IN A ROMANTIC WAY..NOT INCLUDING AN ANIMAL OR FRIEND?
My ex-boyfriend G---.
26.SHOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH AN EX?
Usually, yes. As long as you don't want them dead that is.
27. DO YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF A NYMPHO?
No, but I think I think like one or at least like a man. It's entertaining when bored.
28.HEARTBROKEN OR BREAK HEARTS?
Both. Argh.
29.WOULD YOU LICK THE DIRTY GROUND IF SOMEONE ASKED U 2?
Ick no.
30.HEAVEN OR HELL?
According to who? Purgatory all the way.
3.17.2004
There was a time, not so long ago, that an overabundance of happiness around me would have produced loads of self-doubt over my own happiness...
But fuck that...(umm, let me clarify for some of you and your dirrty selves--not "butt fuck"--"but, fuck")
Anywho, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by giggles from the peanut gallery:
I just love when people are in love. It's just so damn cute!
Maybe it's just the time of year or the time of my life, but tons of people are getting married--possibly 6 weddings I might be attending soon--and I'm truly happy for all of them. The idea of weddings was a funky thing for me, given that I've always hated their gagging insipidness--the dramas, high expense, bad music, and quick turnaround in feelings that seem to be the standard. Oh, jaded me. I blame it on what my generation has seen of love...think about it:
I was born in the 70s--the "porn" era--when disco, sappy a.m. radio love songs, sex with consequences, and polyester clothing were all about wanting sex (or at least looking like it). Bad start. What I learned--love is quick sex, sex is fun, and by having fun, you will die.
I was raised in the 80s--the "shiny consumerism" era--when spending was high, debt was a way of living, drugs were for the yuppies, and victorian collars and ill-fitting clothes were fashionable. Again, sex...but hidden behind money, propriety, and more materialistic trappings of love. Those who still dressed for the part were misfits and punks. What I learned--love is the appearance of happy, the expensive wedding, the shiny cars and big houses; sex is for the immoral and bad, Jason will kill you for having sex.
I was a teenager in the 90s--the "grungy down with the iron fist" era--when we believed everything sucked, but it was cool that it sucked so bad, and even the flannels we wore were sad. What I learned--love rips through you and leaves you the shell of a person, love is pain, so we might as well have sex, get drugged up, and die, since real love only hurts.
So far, in the 00s, I've just been plain confused. Sex is still fun but bad and shouldn't be had until there's love, but you need to look like you are getting paid for it. Love is still pain and celebrities profit off the image of it, but everyone should need it to live a good life. Now, I've accepted the confusion--I own the confusion--I will have sex when it'll be fun, fuck the morality issue, and when love comes to me, I will bask in it...and check for any hidden cameras.
But fuck that...(umm, let me clarify for some of you and your dirrty selves--not "butt fuck"--"but, fuck")
Anywho, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by giggles from the peanut gallery:
I just love when people are in love. It's just so damn cute!
Maybe it's just the time of year or the time of my life, but tons of people are getting married--possibly 6 weddings I might be attending soon--and I'm truly happy for all of them. The idea of weddings was a funky thing for me, given that I've always hated their gagging insipidness--the dramas, high expense, bad music, and quick turnaround in feelings that seem to be the standard. Oh, jaded me. I blame it on what my generation has seen of love...think about it:
I was born in the 70s--the "porn" era--when disco, sappy a.m. radio love songs, sex with consequences, and polyester clothing were all about wanting sex (or at least looking like it). Bad start. What I learned--love is quick sex, sex is fun, and by having fun, you will die.
I was raised in the 80s--the "shiny consumerism" era--when spending was high, debt was a way of living, drugs were for the yuppies, and victorian collars and ill-fitting clothes were fashionable. Again, sex...but hidden behind money, propriety, and more materialistic trappings of love. Those who still dressed for the part were misfits and punks. What I learned--love is the appearance of happy, the expensive wedding, the shiny cars and big houses; sex is for the immoral and bad, Jason will kill you for having sex.
I was a teenager in the 90s--the "grungy down with the iron fist" era--when we believed everything sucked, but it was cool that it sucked so bad, and even the flannels we wore were sad. What I learned--love rips through you and leaves you the shell of a person, love is pain, so we might as well have sex, get drugged up, and die, since real love only hurts.
So far, in the 00s, I've just been plain confused. Sex is still fun but bad and shouldn't be had until there's love, but you need to look like you are getting paid for it. Love is still pain and celebrities profit off the image of it, but everyone should need it to live a good life. Now, I've accepted the confusion--I own the confusion--I will have sex when it'll be fun, fuck the morality issue, and when love comes to me, I will bask in it...and check for any hidden cameras.
3.15.2004
3.08.2004
OK, instead of physically retracting that last blog, I'm going to suck up the bitterness and take it back.
I will not resort to a hermetic life to avoid communicating my feeling to others. My bad for blaming him for all my issues with men. Will learn to have more pointed, logical arguments and less scary defensive haranguing.
It's so hard being more emotionally mature. I would so rock in high school right now. :)
I will not resort to a hermetic life to avoid communicating my feeling to others. My bad for blaming him for all my issues with men. Will learn to have more pointed, logical arguments and less scary defensive haranguing.
It's so hard being more emotionally mature. I would so rock in high school right now. :)
3.07.2004
3.05.2004
I guess that bout of depression can never be truly diagnosed--it is spring time, 70 degrees outside, sunny, windy, and it's a Friday (officially the weekend in my mind). Whether it's the spring, the day, someone slipped me a happy pill without me knowing it, or Munkeigh is in a bad mood--I'm one happy girl today! Yay the world.
Anywho, lots of seduction plans in the midst recently - 2 of these have worked out so far for my friends. One though troubles me....How does one gracefully grab a guy into the house, pull down his pants, and give a blowjob, without scaring him away? Very difficult, for the slow and smooth kind of seductress, so this would have to be an M.O. shift.
Anywho, lots of seduction plans in the midst recently - 2 of these have worked out so far for my friends. One though troubles me....How does one gracefully grab a guy into the house, pull down his pants, and give a blowjob, without scaring him away? Very difficult, for the slow and smooth kind of seductress, so this would have to be an M.O. shift.
3.03.2004
Yay! I can even play Pathetique Sonata!
You are Schroeder!
Which Peanuts Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
You are Schroeder!
Which Peanuts Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
3.01.2004
I had an epiphany sometime around 3am this morning--I am extremely tired of being taken for granted. As much as I spout my evil ways and how much I hate people and how they should all die a resoundingly painful and drawn-out death, I'm really a nice person and go out of my way to help out my friends. But I need to watch out for the ones that are manipulative without even thinking about it, the bastards.
2.27.2004
Argh. My brain is stuck in a loop, and the theme song for the day is Toxic by Britney Spears. I cannot get this disgustingly awful piece of pop crap out of my mind!!! If this self-inflicted torture doesn't end soon, I will have to resort to physical means of stopping it--banging my head on my desk or powerdrilling a la Pi.
On a good note, my cold is clearing up and am getting lots of attention from a guy I...could...possibly...have a crush on. At the same time, I will not put much in it--he is, after all, a man, and like a magpie, is easily swayed by the shiny.
On a good note, my cold is clearing up and am getting lots of attention from a guy I...could...possibly...have a crush on. At the same time, I will not put much in it--he is, after all, a man, and like a magpie, is easily swayed by the shiny.
2.26.2004
Finally went to the doctor today and got my requisite chewing-out because I was sick. As if I would come to the doctor if I were well. Anywho, got my meds, various bundles of allergy drugs, and an upcoming appointment for "bloodwork." Maybe I've watched too much Buffy and Angel, but this creeps me out. Entails a lot of splitting of parts, examining of counts and such. Oh, sickly sickly me.
2.25.2004
Urgh, my head is about to explode. Damn my sinuses and damn useless decongestant. Well, this leads to my promise for Lent:
I will give up excuses.
Other people give up ice cream (too easy for me), sugar and coffee (way too hard for me), or just outright fast (oye, cranky cranky G). Nope, for me, true good will come once I stop procrastinating or judging and just do what I have to do, no excuses. This will cover many excruciating decisions and actions that I've been putting off, such as:
--going to the gym more often
--going to the doctor when I am sick
--eating properly because it would take more time
--looking up info on the Maryland bar exam
--keeping in touch with my emotionally distant and expensive relatives
--paying more attention to other fun things I could be doing because I'm too anxious about my decrepit love life
So far, so good. At least I've scheduled an appointment to get sinus medication. Hopefully, this will not lead into a downward spiral of drug reliance. (Hmmm, taking Tylenol PM repeatedly to get to sleep is a good thing! Maybe a little Scotch to make me more sleepy! Who needs a liver?)
I will give up excuses.
Other people give up ice cream (too easy for me), sugar and coffee (way too hard for me), or just outright fast (oye, cranky cranky G). Nope, for me, true good will come once I stop procrastinating or judging and just do what I have to do, no excuses. This will cover many excruciating decisions and actions that I've been putting off, such as:
--going to the gym more often
--going to the doctor when I am sick
--eating properly because it would take more time
--looking up info on the Maryland bar exam
--keeping in touch with my emotionally distant and expensive relatives
--paying more attention to other fun things I could be doing because I'm too anxious about my decrepit love life
So far, so good. At least I've scheduled an appointment to get sinus medication. Hopefully, this will not lead into a downward spiral of drug reliance. (Hmmm, taking Tylenol PM repeatedly to get to sleep is a good thing! Maybe a little Scotch to make me more sleepy! Who needs a liver?)
2.24.2004
2.23.2004
A friend of a friend is the coolest non-but-very-potential friend one can have, so I just wanted to introduce the amazingly funny and insightful DJ Ross, a good reason for women to move to LA. :)
2.22.2004
Another reason for castration and a wish to inflict pain equivalent to pain inflicted....this ass has a better chance at finding someone decent than most women in general. Not to mention that he has someone more than decent now and he is still blogging about this girl.
Are men just clueless or are they truly sadistic? I am so tired of being the psychological doormat for guys who are infatuated with women that are not me. Will fight hormones with solitude, as men suck and the ones that don't only want women that think they suck.
Two years worth of solitude doesn't sound so long.
Two years worth of solitude doesn't sound so long.
2.21.2004
Yay! Had fun at party regardless of nasty rough rednecks in 80s gear. Got to hang out with friends, introduce my coastie friend to Munkeigh, got to play lots of pool (miss that pool table), and found peace with the midget. I'm really starting to like my circle of friends, and am amazed that forced socialness works.
Hmmm, so many things to do today and only want to lie in bed, snuggling with a sleepy man. Sigh. But must:
-Buy cat food. Above all, must not starve the babies.
-Buy wedding shower present...what starts with a Z? Ooo, bedsheets!
-Attend wedding shower of coworker with other co-workers....not too enjoyable, but OK, must do the part.
-Attend mardi gras party that may either be wonderfully fun, or lame a la Hero Clix. God, please make them keep the Hero Clix under wraps.
Hmmm, so many things to do today and only want to lie in bed, snuggling with a sleepy man. Sigh. But must:
-Buy cat food. Above all, must not starve the babies.
-Buy wedding shower present...what starts with a Z? Ooo, bedsheets!
-Attend wedding shower of coworker with other co-workers....not too enjoyable, but OK, must do the part.
-Attend mardi gras party that may either be wonderfully fun, or lame a la Hero Clix. God, please make them keep the Hero Clix under wraps.
2.20.2004
Am very tired and need to reprioritize life--will try that sleeping, eating, and exercising thing. Yeah, that. Also need to revisit meaning of life, but that is another blog altogether. :)
Sadly, this revelation is not due to the need to be alert for 8am meeting, but to be alert for dramatic events at llama's party tonight. Am expecting much mischief and sexual tension between midget and his seductive mistress. He he, can't wait.
Sadly, this revelation is not due to the need to be alert for 8am meeting, but to be alert for dramatic events at llama's party tonight. Am expecting much mischief and sexual tension between midget and his seductive mistress. He he, can't wait.
2.19.2004
2.16.2004
Pheromone withdrawal is a bitch.
I've decided that I'm a druggie--I suspend my life and sneak around just for the yummy, sweet scent of certain guys. I actually get a fun little high and lots of distancing from real life issues. And when I leave that safe haven, I'm all cranky and out of sorts, planning for the next buzz. Damn my animal lusting. Argh.
Luckily, I have my ever-good panacea--Weezer (Happy 12th! Yay!!)
I've decided that I'm a druggie--I suspend my life and sneak around just for the yummy, sweet scent of certain guys. I actually get a fun little high and lots of distancing from real life issues. And when I leave that safe haven, I'm all cranky and out of sorts, planning for the next buzz. Damn my animal lusting. Argh.
Luckily, I have my ever-good panacea--Weezer (Happy 12th! Yay!!)
2.14.2004
Happy Valentine's Day!
As cynical as I am, I still love Valentine's Day. The thought of it at least. The merchandising...not so much. Although I am glad to say that I was very surprised and happy to receive roses from...*drum roll*....my brother. He forgets the big holidays, and I haven't received a real present for my birthday or Christmas for a couple years now, but he remembered that my boyfriend of 5 years is no longer, and so it was sweet of him to send me something. Yay for big brothers!
So far, the day is going well:
1) I received a drunk dialing last night from a guy friend at 2:30am and then an apologetic voice message this morning. Sadly, I was flattered and am going to give him chocolate.
2) My friends' social lives are becoming very active, although it seems they get what they want and don't want it any more. Hmm.
3) Have forgiven and forgotten Munkeigh's unintentionally pointed comments (i.e. the man for me that I will never meet and the gloating over my lack of social life). Have accepted sad state. *sigh*
4) My dad came home from his trip to the Philippines with loads of yummy food. Love the yummy pastries.
5) Have plans to go to the gym for some long-needed working out--after I digest the yummy pastries.
6) Guaranteed long weekend promotes further plans of partying hard.
Life is good.
As cynical as I am, I still love Valentine's Day. The thought of it at least. The merchandising...not so much. Although I am glad to say that I was very surprised and happy to receive roses from...*drum roll*....my brother. He forgets the big holidays, and I haven't received a real present for my birthday or Christmas for a couple years now, but he remembered that my boyfriend of 5 years is no longer, and so it was sweet of him to send me something. Yay for big brothers!
So far, the day is going well:
1) I received a drunk dialing last night from a guy friend at 2:30am and then an apologetic voice message this morning. Sadly, I was flattered and am going to give him chocolate.
2) My friends' social lives are becoming very active, although it seems they get what they want and don't want it any more. Hmm.
3) Have forgiven and forgotten Munkeigh's unintentionally pointed comments (i.e. the man for me that I will never meet and the gloating over my lack of social life). Have accepted sad state. *sigh*
4) My dad came home from his trip to the Philippines with loads of yummy food. Love the yummy pastries.
5) Have plans to go to the gym for some long-needed working out--after I digest the yummy pastries.
6) Guaranteed long weekend promotes further plans of partying hard.
Life is good.
2.10.2004
Don't know if it's the spreadsheeting, the subject matter, the boredom, the lack of coffee, or the coffee dependency that is breaking my brain cells down. *pop* *implode* Will no longer think of taking money away from the army, as in general the troops need money, but just the areas of unjustified overspending---hello unnecessary tech spending!! Yes. Will cut the tech spending. *maniacal laughter*
Anywho, primaries are today! I wonder how Virginia will fare, given that unlike many states all registered voters can vote...how many Republicans will come out to skew the vote? I've always wondered if the order of the primaries also has a strong effect on votes....it seems to me that if we started the primaries in South Carolina, instead of Iowa, that maybe Kerry wouldn't be the front-runner.
On another note...Peanut Butter and Jelly, two conjoined African leopard tortoises, have parted ways due to irreconcilable differences and control issues, i.e. their flipping over needed to be monitored for fair walking time. They could not be contacted for comment.
Anywho, primaries are today! I wonder how Virginia will fare, given that unlike many states all registered voters can vote...how many Republicans will come out to skew the vote? I've always wondered if the order of the primaries also has a strong effect on votes....it seems to me that if we started the primaries in South Carolina, instead of Iowa, that maybe Kerry wouldn't be the front-runner.
On another note...Peanut Butter and Jelly, two conjoined African leopard tortoises, have parted ways due to irreconcilable differences and control issues, i.e. their flipping over needed to be monitored for fair walking time. They could not be contacted for comment.
2.08.2004
"Hello, my name is Ringo, and I play the drums..."
Am thoroughly enjoying my night, regardless of the effortless loserness of it all.
I just had bacon for the first time in about a year (my annual craving has broken through the nasty fatty ick barrier), I'm finally getting somewhere with my database that Brain has assigned (oh, but burlap chafes me so), and my ass is warm from the recently purchased space heater.
AND it's nice and happy from the excessive booty shaking that accompanies this year's Grammys. The best Grammys in years, I think. I completely rocked out to the White Stripes (I say it again...damn Jack White and his broken finger!!! I could have experienced that live!!!), Sting/Vince/Pharrell/Dave as the Beatles, Alicia Keys, and Senor Sandoval, so far.
Urgh, mood almost submerged by Yoko Ono insipidness. Will not let the little alien bother me.
Am thoroughly enjoying my night, regardless of the effortless loserness of it all.
I just had bacon for the first time in about a year (my annual craving has broken through the nasty fatty ick barrier), I'm finally getting somewhere with my database that Brain has assigned (oh, but burlap chafes me so), and my ass is warm from the recently purchased space heater.
AND it's nice and happy from the excessive booty shaking that accompanies this year's Grammys. The best Grammys in years, I think. I completely rocked out to the White Stripes (I say it again...damn Jack White and his broken finger!!! I could have experienced that live!!!), Sting/Vince/Pharrell/Dave as the Beatles, Alicia Keys, and Senor Sandoval, so far.
Urgh, mood almost submerged by Yoko Ono insipidness. Will not let the little alien bother me.
2.05.2004
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.
"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.
2.03.2004
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?
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?
1.31.2004
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).
1.29.2004
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.
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.
1.27.2004
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.
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.
1.25.2004
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."
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."
1.24.2004
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.
The concise military history of France.
1.23.2004
1.22.2004
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.
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!
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.
1.19.2004
1.17.2004
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?!
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.
Secret asian "sex machine" must have put the gun to her head, as we generally don't give a damn.
1.16.2004
Oh, my ADD is really overwhelming today. Especially since I found on-line bubble wrap. Heeheeheehee....must have more!
1.13.2004
1.12.2004
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. :)
#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. :)
1.11.2004
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.
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.
1.08.2004
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.
And like always, I waste time pondering the ways of the world for naught. It is midnight, and I am still coughing.
1.07.2004
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.
1.05.2004
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.....
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.
Also in high spirits because figured out elusive Merman piano part late last night. Now only need to write out in proper form.
1.04.2004
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.
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?
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?
1.02.2004
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.
--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.
1.01.2004
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 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.
12.31.2003
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.
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.
12.28.2003
12.26.2003
Have been sucked into megalomania.....bwahahaha!
Once upon a time, there was a little queendom named Geeez.
Once upon a time, there was a little queendom named Geeez.
12.23.2003
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.
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.
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.
12.17.2003
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.
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.
12.15.2003
12.11.2003
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.
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).
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).
12.07.2003
“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 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.
12.03.2003
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.
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.
12.01.2003
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.
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.