Word of the day: Schadenfreude

Feeling a lot better now that the plague has passed my hometown and moved onto greater populated metropolises--sic them politicians, yee ha! Always feels good to level some hurt on others (I'm joking...but not really). For example, felt good to take money from sad, poker obsessed, uber-competitive, angry teachers. (Sorry...OK, I'm not. OK, I only partly am. Mostly about the ones that shout "Playstation Poker! $19.99" Shut up and pay me already!)

And it feels good to inflict this on you all--the fashion fugly. I really hate the word fugly, but the site's quite snarky in a funny way, especially for those of us who agree the Britney Spears is the queen of fug. If anyone can comment on bad fashion incorporating Buffy the Vampire Slayer (but not about the Buffster), you've got to love it.

Am crazy bag lady thanks to dayquil habit.

Or at least frantically dug into trash in public.

Yesterday, in one of my recent drug-induced highs, I cleaned out my house--threw away all junk papers, magazines, etc. This doesn't sound like a big deal, but if you knew the level of packrat that I live in (black belt), it's about a four feet of trash bin. Felt cleansed, felt revived, then came the oh-shit moment. You see, one good thing about being a packrat and keeping everything is that you have an adaptive system of organization--the pile method--but once the piles have been rearranged (or tossed), you can't find a damn thing. As I found out tonight.

Had a flashback of holding in my hand my recent (and expensive) car registration with attached license plate stickers, without that nice other memory of where I had put it. After searching through every little bit of paper in the house, twice over, for the last hour, realized I must have thrown it out in my manic state. Dodging the watchful eyes of my too-long-retired neighbors, I pulled up my trashcan away from the curb, tried to gracefully lower myself in (the bag I needed was of course at the bottom), quickly hoisted myself and bag out, ran into the house, opened wretched hefty, and voila.

Next up--selling the neighbors' grandkids for crack.

Dreaming of San Diego, the life of a beach bum philosopher, and the ability to breathe again. I hate being sick. It imposes lumpishness, which is only fun when it's your choice.

Listened to Tori's new album on repeat today at work, in an attempt to distract myself from this waste of my life (verifying data. woohoo!!). The result--I'm calm, but not so much impressed. Tori's getting long-winded and kinda boring. And I'm getting really sick of the word "parasol"...never knew there was such an annoying word. There are a few really good songs (Sweet the Sting, Original Sinsuality, and Hootchie Woman) but generally, there's too much of a floaty soft rock vibe, not in a fun trancey Radiohead way, and not enough variety to sound to break it up. I blame lack of editing and laziness. If you cut the album by about 4 songs--especially the ones that sound just like songs on Scarlet's Walk--it'd be 100% better.

Spent most of last week wondering why I was abnormally unsatisfied with my life. Spent all of today, embracing germs and watching inane movies. Am now pretty happy.

I realized that dissatisfaction with life works in two ways: you aren't doing what you really want to do or you compare yourself with others that are seemingly happy. Typical buddhist issue: unnecessary desires increases unhappiness. My unhappiness doesn't so much stem from lack of liking what I do (although who wouldn't want more time to do everything) but from the bombardment of what I should be doing. I was seriously miserable this last week because my sister and brother were in town, one being recently engaged and the other cruising towards a new job and satisfaction with an adopted family of brilliant and cute people. Added onto the requirement that I needed to allocate almost all my time with the thoroughly unhappy and newly dependent parents with the sibs in town=unhappy me.

But now that I had time to be sick as a dog and have a good excuse to be by myself for a day, I've reassessed. I'm happy, fuck them. :)

Better today, as I've accepted that I've just not that type of woman that uses and abuses men so much that they adore her. If I can't find a nice guy who adores me when I am fun, supportive, cute and loving, they can live a life of misery forever chasing after "the bitch."

But physically worse...all headpounding and backaching. M noted that I'm becoming quite OCD about the lysol, but when surrounded by the plague, lysol is nothing. Sickness is almost destiny. Especially when you run out of lysol and all you have left is lots of purell. Hence the sickness. Not sick enough to be an invalid although still want to lounge and sleep for days. Argh, blech.

Will think beyond physical pains and dream of the next poker game when I will squash the arrogance out of players who like to tell me about my tells.

How to stay afloat today?

Feeling especially horrible about self today. Argh. Lack of sleep, money, happy relationships, and purpose in life, etc. Same old same old. Anywho, perspective all screwy because I have to entertain blissfully happy little sister visiting this week when all I want to do is curl up in a dark movie theater and barrage myself with seductive images of a different life. Ah, fighting demons and lung cancer...that's sounds good right now.

The Kyoto treaty is now in effect, in hopes of reducing greenhouse emissions by many industrialized nations.

But not the US.

Other than the fact that Dubya has renounced any such thing as global warming, this is not shocking because the US has ratified (as in not just signed, but put into US law) maybe a handful of multilateral treaties. With lots of exemption clauses, etc etc. But how else could we be signed onto NATO and the UN and be able to enter a military operation against another nation without UN approval? Wait, is it considered an exemption if you just flat out lie? Anywho. Here is a list of some treaties that the US has either not ratified or backed out of...mostly due to opposition of conservatives who'd rather not give rights to women, children nor limit our ability to kill everything on the planet.

Still here. Just bogged down with lots of crap, as usual. I really need to learn to simplify. And actually finish stuff on time. Here's the update:

-Bad girfriend moments. Couldn't get reservations for dinner at exclusive restaurant because stupid restaurants are exclusive. Realized there are no Baskin Robbins in the area when looking for requested ice cream cake for the boy's birthday. Wondered of poor taste and tempted to get Carvel. Instead went to Sugar Plum and cake went (mostly) uneaten. blech. Probably not due to cake but to stomach flu (more later). Boyfriend instead got CD.

-Gave up on writing paper only slightly late. Absolutely hate WWII.

-M left the house for the den of wood, taking leaky dog and dryer habit with her. V. sad. Cats are v. happy.

-Valentine's day was spent feeling nauseated and wondering if I was pregnant (probably not, just stomach flu...thanks M.) Roused myself for boyfriend time, wonderful dinner, and chocolate--the best kind--filled with peanut butter!

But enough about my damn self.

The most entertaining article I've seen on the Grammys! Much much better than I could have ever put it, and so nicely disparaging of all deserving folk (sorry Ben). You should read the whole thing but here are some of the best lines:

Band No. 4 is the mysterious Maroon 5 with that song I hear all the time at the gym. Catchy! The lead singer looks like Keanu Reeves and the keyboardist looks like a PIRG canvasser. They won't be around next year.

There's a reason these two haven't sung together in public before. It's because Marc Anthony is humiliatingly better than Jennifer Lopez. At least with Ben Affleck, it was an even match of talentlessness; the equivalent to J.Lo performing with Marc Anthony would be Affleck hitching his wagon to Frances McDormand.

Green Day has released a concept album with a unique concept: "All the songs are good."

Next year it could easily be Christina Aguilera paying tribute to Billie Holliday, Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey singing the songs of Kenny and Dolly, and J.Lo doing a forbidden, fully synthesized dance with her new husband, Colin Farrell.

Who's playing in the Superbowl?

Ah, have absolutely no comment on the Superbowl as I really didn't even know who was playing until the day of, and it really didn't improve my life to know. Watched part of the 1st half, remembered why I don't watch football regularly. Football is too soft what with all the padding and stopping. Professional rugby is 100% more entertaining and dangerous--possibly justifying why they are paid millions. Anywho, enough about something I could care less about.

Woke up anxious that didn't accomplish a thing this weekend except maintaining of sanity, spending time with the boy, mindless video game watching, continuing Gilmore Girls plot development, and lots of potato-chip eating. Forget WWII paper, "thinking outside of the box" for report on foreign currency losses, home improvement, and that oh so frivolous cleaning. Nothing like punching holes and organizing to soothe the soul and avoid work. Very happy now, a la bouncing monk.

Herman: the Hunted.
Also known as: well, hello my name is Herman, and I like to chew structural beams.



You're thinking, awwww, so cute! Yeah right. Like with raccoons, cuteness doesn't mask the devious intent to destroy!

Herman, my temporary squirrely visitor, kept me up last night, gnawing away at something (probably very important and roof-supporting) right above my head. I should have known he had dropped by since the cats have been intently staring at the ceiling in my bedroom for the last couple of weeks. But the gnawing--the insane endless scratching--was never noticeable until now.

Woke up thinking that I was in some kind of late night sci-fi moment, eyes bugged out in fright, and looking all around like I would find an alien monster hanging from my ceiling, dripping acid saliva, and making insistent chewing sounds. When I realized that no, it was not extraterrestrial, just painfully annoying and definitely destructive, I knew what it was. But I couldn't convince myself to look into the attic until morning as I couldn't stomach getting up out of a warm bed just to have a rabid squirrel gnaw my face off. Or possibly having my jaw ripped off by some scratching angry Japanese ghost (the probability was low, but hey, it's 2 am).

Anywho, checked in the morning, saw a fist-sized hole and lots of insulation pouring out of it and knew it wasn't a cranky ghost or a bat (I would have kept the bat). I dubbed the bugger Herman. Called company specializing in rodent remover (interesting job), hillbilly answered, and felt assured that he knew how to catch this here skwer-rel.

Hope not to come home to absolute collapse of house. Damn squirrels.

Today was a good and productive day. If you know me, you'd understand:

Obsessively watched episodes of Gilmore Girls season 1 from bed.

Got up at 10 to pick up my long unused wallet from where I had left it on Tuesday

Drove around a lot

Sang lots of Dixie Chicks and Bon Jovi

Found lots of rich lavender-scented hand cream at L'Occitane (outlet!! I love Williamsburg!)

Finally bought a much wanted big...sharp...Henkels...knife

Gazed at the sparkly iced over trees

Bought 4 new CDs (Jimmy Eat World, Sublime, U2, and Gwen Stefani)

Updated and uploaded days worth of music onto iPod (and not even halfway through my CDs)

Purchased gaudy, shiny, ethnic cabinet with many tiny drawers which actually used to organize bathroom

Obtained and will soon enjoy squishy mattress pad to enhance already mama-bearish bed

Figured out a song on the piano

Played a little SIMs and did not set my SIMs husband on fire (woo-hoo!)

Saw angsty-Achilles Brad Pitt butt

Ate dinner of buttery popcorn and diet coke

Boogied to "September" by Earth Wind and Fire

And, did not do any work at all. Life is good.

Here's what I think of your "expanding freedom"!!

Ah, inauguration day. The speechwriters for the imminent Bush-Lite have done a good job this time. Too bad it doesn't seem to work well in reality.

For a half century, America defended our own freedom by standing watch on distant borders. After the shipwreck of communism came years of relative quiet, years of repose, years of sabbatical – and then there came a day of fire.

Did he forget about that little Gulf War that his dad (and America) was involved in?

From the day of our Founding, we have proclaimed that every man and woman on this earth has rights, and dignity, and matchless value, because they bear the image of the Maker of Heaven and earth. Across the generations we have proclaimed the imperative of self-government, because no one is fit to be a master, and no one deserves to be a slave.

From our founding, only rich white males had rights and everyone else's value was chump change. The second line just appalls me if Republicans really think they are upholding this ideal.

Freedom, by its nature, must be chosen, and defended by citizens, and sustained by the rule of law and the protection of minorities. And when the soul of a nation finally speaks, the institutions that arise may reflect customs and traditions very different from our own. America will not impose our own style of government on the unwilling. Our goal instead is to help others find their own voice, attain their own freedom, and make their own way.

This doesn't work well in application. Germany chose to follow the Nazis. China and Korea chose to follow their dictators. Didn't seem to work out. And, the soul of the nation, their own voice...who chooses that soul, that voice? A majority of the people in the nation, the oppressed, the minority government, or the extremists? Basically, if we get rid of all those against us, it seems we've chosen for them.

All who live in tyranny and hopelessness can know: the United States will not ignore your oppression, or excuse your oppressors. When you stand for your liberty, we will stand with you.

Who's helping in Africa? Oh, yeah I forgot they're not oppressed (aka economically helpful to us).

The leaders of governments with long habits of control need to know: To serve your people you must learn to trust them.

Trust? Our government seems to have a long history of control also--limitations on gay marriage, birth control, abortion, etc. You can't let people be morally wrong!

I ask our youngest citizens to believe the evidence of your eyes. You have seen duty and allegiance in the determined faces of our soldiers. You have seen that life is fragile, and evil is real, and courage triumphs. Make the choice to serve in a cause larger than your wants, larger than yourself – and in your days you will add not just to the wealth of our country, but to its character.

Ah-ha! A solution to our overworked and underpaid military, get in teenagers to fill in your ranks. They're stupid and willing, and totally expendable! But wait, what about the real problem? That killing others is evil--yet, you too can be a soldier!

When our Founders declared a new order of the ages; when soldiers died in wave upon wave for a union based on liberty; when citizens marched in peaceful outrage under the banner “Freedom Now” – they were acting on an ancient hope that is meant to be fulfilled. History has an ebb and flow of justice, but history also has a visible direction, set by liberty and the Author of Liberty.

Funny how the President has to quote from French history to validate our wars.

Enough about that, it's too easy to tear apart. What really concerned me was the actual and possiblevalue of the crazy celebrations in "our time of crisis and sacrifice":

$40 million: Cost of Bush inaugural ball festivities, not counting
security costs.

$20,000: Cost of yellow roses purchased for inaugural festivities by
D.C.'s Ritz Carlton.

200: Number of Humvees outfitted with top-of-the-line armor for troops
in Iraq that could have been purchased with the amount of money blown on
the inauguration.

$10,000: Price of an inaugural package at the Fairmont Hotel, which
includes a Beluga caviar and Dom Perignon reception, a chauffeured Rolls
Royce and two actors posing as "faux" Secret Service agents, complete
with black sunglasses and cufflink walkie-talkies.

22 million: Number of children in regions devastated by the tsunami who
could have received vaccinations and preventive health care with the
amount of money spent on the inauguration.

1,160,000: Number of girls who could be sent to school for a year in
Afghanistan with the amount of money lavished on the inauguration.

$15,000: The down payment to rent a fur coat paid by one gala attendee
who didn't want the hassle of schlepping her own through the airport.

2,500: Number of U.S. troops used to stand guard as President Bush
takes his oath of office.

26,000: Number of Kevlar vests for U.S. soldiers in Iraq and
Afghanistan that could be purchased for $40 million.

Wallet.
House keys.
ID.
Money.
Food.
Clothing.

You'd think these things were important--important enough not to walk away from them, drive hours away, walk up to your front door, and then think, Oh shit. Yet, time after time, I leave such objects behind when I'm visiting someone or on the road. Someday, I'll just walk out, without any shoes or coat, without a purse, get into some random car driving to Las Vegas, arrive at the Bellagio, and think, Oh shit, where's my cell phone? And my...oh SHIT. Where the hell am I?

So, tonight, I went over to Heathen's for some scrapbooking madness (I know, shut up. At least it's not Tupperware.) I bring food, belated Christmas presents. I leave with food and Christmas presents. BUT no purse, checkbook, credit cards, ID, no filled out order form with the amount I owe, no address of the person I owe the money to, and no viable brain cells whatsoever. Exactly when does Alzheimer's kick in?

Sometimes I think this is the downfall of my romantic life--the inability to be psychotic. Do men really need the psycho girlfriend for it to be love?

Usually, the new year brings me feelings of happiness and a renewed hope for the upcoming year. So far this year I've been really overwhelmed and depressed. I was blaming it on personal issues--work, family, etc. But no, now that I've thought about it, it's not me, it's the fucking world. I've realized that all the information that I've been bombarded with adds up to "My God we're setting ourselves up to die."

For example, I've been putting together a briefing for my director at work that sums up all the expenditures on the what the military calls the Global War on Terrorism (ha!)--mostly Operation Noble Eagle (keep the crazies out of our country), Operation Enduring Freedom (keep those Afghani crazies down), and Operation Iraqi Freedom (hey, those oil fields are mine!), with some money hidden away for our next attacks on another country that starts with an "I" and ends in an "n"(but you didn't hear that from me). Anywho, here's the breakdown:

- Just last year, we've spent a total of $71 billion (that's with nine zeros) on the Global War on Terrorism

- $3 billion on homeland security, $10 billion on Afghanistan,
and $57 billion on Iraq
- this $71 billion is in addition to the $462 billion spent on "peacetime functions"
- the grand total for last year--> $533,000,000,000 spent on our defense, about half our overall federal budget and the highest military spending across foreign countries by about $468 billion. But I guess if everyone is out to get you, you have to spend more.

- Also, our federal deficit is now over $4 trillion (that's twelve zeros), which is a major shift from 2000 when we had a surplus of $1 trillion. There goes that Republican theory that a war leads to an economic boom. Something I never understood anyways.

- half of the $4 trillion deficit is from tax cuts, a third from our
struggling economy, and a fourth from federal spending increases

What does all this mean? We're shit out of luck if we want to remain economically viable, hell, the Euro is double the value of the US dollar. Not to mention that we're already diplomatic pariahs. Fucking Dub and his fucking followers.

Here's a more comprehensive article on why Bush is the Tony "fuck the future" Manero of this century. It all makes me want to cry.

I promised it, so here it is:

Lost and Found in Bavaria

“Hello, this is Lufthansa Lost & Found at Munich International Airport…we’ve found your sister. We understand the inconvenience that the delay has caused you, but we will promptly deliver her to your house. If you do not receive your sister in the next couple of days, please feel free to call our service desk. Happy Holidays and thank you for using Lufthansa.”

GAO has taught me many things to about how to make travel less painful—limit your baggage, carry no metal on your person, buffer in lots of time between connecting flights, have your tickets/ID/passport always at hand, and above all, be flexible, patient and pleasant. In my recent holiday travels to visit my sister stationed in Germany, these lessons came in handy, but they couldn’t prevent me from arriving 20 hours late after 9 hours in the air and endless hours wandering the airports.

This horrific trip began on an icy Monday morning. The Norfolk field office had closed due to the weather conditions. I should have known better, yet I was still hopeful that my flights would be only slightly delayed. I arrived at the airport the suggested 3 hours early for international travel—my small amount of baggage was checked, and I had seats for all connecting flights from Norfolk to Boston, to London, then finally to Frankfurt, Germany, with hours in between these connections. I was prepared to sit and wait.

Seven hours later, many announcements on flight delays to Boston, and walking laps between various gates, I was reassigned on a different airline to fly into JFK airport in New York so that I could catch my connecting flight to London. That is, if I was lucky and ran from my arriving gate to an unknown departing gate in the span of 10 minutes.

The flight from Norfolk to New York was deceptively pleasant so I was well prepared for the mad dash and hopeful that I could catch my flight given the other delays from JFK. I walked into the terminal and entered a zoo. People and luggage everywhere parked on any space of the floor. I picked out a narrow, winding trail and promptly ran through as fast as I could without knocking people aside. The passageway opened up into an area as large as Central Station, roaring with people pushing, yelling, and jumping over counters. I had walked into a riot. I dodged flying luggage, fists, and NYPD officers and ran to my gate as best I could. Luckily the plane was still in the gate and I was airborne for London soon after. But wait, there’s more!

The flight to London was probably the worst plane ride I have ever been on. It was so turbulent that the flight attendants remained strapped in throughout the 6 hour flight. That meant, no food or drink service, which in the end didn’t matter as everyone was sick to their stomachs.

After the marathon of retching, we safely arrived in foggy London, only 4 hours late. However, that still meant we had missed any connecting flights and the lines to find new flights were not moving. I found out that all flights to Germany were delayed, overbooked, or cancelled, and being a trained analyst, I quizzed them of various other routes to get to my destination—Luxembourg, Hamburg, Brussels, Paris, anything. The best they could give me was standby to Munich on a different airline, if I waited another 6 hours. My pleasant outlook was starting to fade, but I accepted my fate and waited. I also avoided thinking about my very late arrival to a city 8 hours away from my original destination, with no hotel or train reservations, and thought I could handle it when I got there.

My flight to Munich was uneventful, except for getting a glass of Coke spilled into my lap right at the beginning of the flight. Sticky and tired, I arrived in Munich near midnight and immediately went to baggage claim. I watched that track circle round and round until it stopped and then my predicament really dawned on me. No bags, no train tickets, hours late, soda covered, and not able to speak any German. Crushed, I went to report my lost luggage to Lufthansa, expecting very little help at this point. Instead, the angel of mercy behind the counter assessed my situation in one look, sat me down, booked me overnight train tickets to Frankfurt, and gave me a lollipop.

In the end, my trip was wonderful; I loved visiting Germany, but if I could prevent it, never again will this happen to me. New lessons learned: Stay home, don’t travel on the holidays. If you must travel, carry-on bag only, ship everything else, direct flight, bring ear plugs, and wear soda-repelling pants.

BTW, in a depressed state due to many intertwined events: end of cheerful holidays, end of restful holiday break and beginning of anxiety, horrific travel conditions, inability to reach zen state over travel conditions, imminent engagement of younger sister, being given advice by younger sister on finding "the real one," gloomy weather, strong urge to cut overly long hair, death and destruction throughout the known world, etc. How do I cope? Why silly oogling of unrealistically handsome celebrities of course! I haven't had this reaction since Antonio first arrived. And the most recent one is not gay (not that Antonio is). Well, I don't think he is....I hope he isn't...they didn't mention a wife or girlfriend...dang.

Anywho, I proudly present, my newest gasp, oooh guy--Gerard Butler.



*gasp* oooooh! Definitely the first Phantom that wins the "Love the way he fits his pants" Award.

Alive and well from travel hell. Will give details after I think of a funny way of telling the story without it becoming a Napoleon Dynamite haze of "Idiot!" moments. (Maybe I will! GOSH!!)

But in the meantime, please try to give a little:

I promise I will read all about the Franco-Prussian wars, by the end of tonight, I swear. Really. But in the meantime, since writers' block seems to be my MO for the month (and it's already the end of the night, with no chance of victory) here's this--my own personal duh...





what decade does your personality live in?


quiz brought to you by lady interference, ltd

Love the holidays, but for the expectations, merchandising, and debt. And lack of enough days in the month. Soon will be free of worries, papers, party planning, work and family responsibilities and guilt, and instead roaming the streets of Munich, lost, cold, and completely not-German speaking American. Ahh, sounds nice and relaxing.