Okay. So I'm laid back. im in karate to get stonger and to learn.
I have to go through the ghetto everyday. its a good thing to know i think.
My problem is by the time I get there, I have been awake and moving for at least 15 hours already. 15 hours! ugh.
So we start our class. It's good, I keep getting better, and soon I'll no longer be the lowly white belt with stripes, but a big bad orange belt. I have a driving force, because in my line of work its important, especially for a girl like me to know a thing or two about defense.
Everyone knows I am the newbie. That sucks. Because I am always trying to catch up to everyone else, and alot of the time I look "special" because I do things wrong. my instructors are always nice, and they tell me that I am "showing great promise" and that I am "clearly smart because I learn so quickly" I say "thank you sir" when really I want to say... "slow I am master yoda. wax on wax off work not well." (Right, so I am a nerd) But honestly I hate being bad at things.
I like learning new things, but I don't like the process of not being perfect at what I do. I understand that I can't be perfect at everything, but damn it, I'm gonna get as close as humanly possible.
In class yesterday, I was going over one steps, and aiming for accuracy over strength when my female instructor stops me and asks if I have any mean bones in my body. I say, "you haven't seen me in traffic on 395. I'm just storing up all my anger for the real showdown on the highway." She laughs, then says that "perfection of technique is important, but if you ever want to put this to use, you need to put force behind it, not just motion."
Point well taken ma'am. she is like 5 ft tall and could lay me out with one shot. It's admirable. Actually, her whole family could do the same. Don't mess with that family.
Note to self: work on angry explosive hits, not just perfection. Perfection gets you belts, but explosivity gets the other guy knocked out.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Cars and Bars.
I enjoy my new car. Its sonic blue. its fast. thus, people tend to watch it intently as it goes by. not necessarily because the driver is worth attention, but because the car is beautiful.
I have always thought that there is a reason why you see girls in hot cars. not because they are the prettiest, but because they understand that the reason guys get fast/pretty/expensive cars is the same reason why a less than model-like girl would get one... they want to compensate for something/and/or/want to be noticed.
It works. People notice pretty stuff. It doesn't have to be funtional, or logical, just pretty. Nature has its examples: the peacock. The female is brown, while the male (seeking to mate and gain attention) is brightly colored. Leave it to a dude to look all crazy just to get a chick to notice. stupid.
Most times, you could just talk to them. Save yourself the 50 grand on the car, the 2 grand on the low-end armani, and even the couple hundred for dinner and walk up to them. It works.
For example: I got picked up at a bar. I am sitting by myself going to get drinks for myself and friends, when a guy sits right next to me. (note that the rest of the bar was empty) He sits, leans over to me, and says : I'm sorry I sat so close to you, but the bar was really full. Not many empty seats.
Way to go C! no flashy anything. just a conversation. Impressive, even if you were tipsy. I figure if someone can be that on top of things after some drinks, they can handle themselves sober.
Moral of the story folks: you don't need to have bright feathers, but know how to use what you have.
and on that note... off to karate.
I have always thought that there is a reason why you see girls in hot cars. not because they are the prettiest, but because they understand that the reason guys get fast/pretty/expensive cars is the same reason why a less than model-like girl would get one... they want to compensate for something/and/or/want to be noticed.
It works. People notice pretty stuff. It doesn't have to be funtional, or logical, just pretty. Nature has its examples: the peacock. The female is brown, while the male (seeking to mate and gain attention) is brightly colored. Leave it to a dude to look all crazy just to get a chick to notice. stupid.
Most times, you could just talk to them. Save yourself the 50 grand on the car, the 2 grand on the low-end armani, and even the couple hundred for dinner and walk up to them. It works.
For example: I got picked up at a bar. I am sitting by myself going to get drinks for myself and friends, when a guy sits right next to me. (note that the rest of the bar was empty) He sits, leans over to me, and says : I'm sorry I sat so close to you, but the bar was really full. Not many empty seats.
Way to go C! no flashy anything. just a conversation. Impressive, even if you were tipsy. I figure if someone can be that on top of things after some drinks, they can handle themselves sober.
Moral of the story folks: you don't need to have bright feathers, but know how to use what you have.
and on that note... off to karate.
Monday, August 29, 2005
OMG It's like my nightmare realized. ..
In this artist rendering provided by Destination Grand Canyon, a glass skywalk is shown extending from the Grand Canyon. An American Indian tribe with land along the canyon is planning to build a glass-bottomed walkway that will jut out 70 feet from the canyon's edge. The skywalk, expected to open in January, is part of the Hualapai Tribe's $40 million effort to turn 1,000 acres of reservation land into a tourist destination that will also feature an Indian village and Western-themed town. (AP Photo/Destination Grand Canyon)
I have a very strong fear of bridges. Huge. I can handle it, and it is improving, but not by much. heights don't bother me, but bridges do. I know its weird, but that's just how it works. Now I would like to go to the grand canyon, but I would never be able to walk on that. period. 70ft out from the edge and you are walking on glass? get real. not gonna happen... its just not prudent.
Friday, August 26, 2005
A mexican ad to protect ... turtles.
In this photo relased by private U.S. conservation group Wildcoast on Tuesday Ayg. 23, 2005 , Argentine model Dorismar poses for a publicity campaign poster aimed at halting the illegal consumption of endangered turtles' eggs in Mexico. The campaign has run into trouble before even starting, with a women's rights group asking government officials to block public announcements featuring the scantily clad model. The text reads: 'My man doesnt need turtle eggs. Because he knows it doesnt make him more potent.'(AP Photo/Wildcoast,HO)
right.
So its a good thing for the turtles, but I think its funny that the women's right group is protesting it. Because of the potent/nakedness. hum...
the subjugation of hot chicks-----------------or----------------the protection of endangered turtles.... I think chicks are gonna loose out. (and rightly so)(Hello Pam anderson +PETA)
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Aspects:Dove- athletes and nike.
In some ways, these women are like professional athletes, paid to maintain a fighting weight and a breathtaking physique. Yet no one complains that championship marathoners, tennis stars and volleyball players, with their impossibly taut bodies, dominate the covers of sports magazines, posing a threat to the delicate psyche of weekend athletes everywhere.
It may be that the athletic physique is celebrated because sports is held in high regard. Sports milestones in diversity, for example, are celebrated in history books. The model figure is maligned because the fashion industry could not be perceived as more frivolous and superficial. Cultural breakthroughs are acknowledged with little more than a shrug.
Try, for a moment, to separate the bodies from the business. Marion Jones vs. Naomi Campbell. Maria Sharapova vs. Carolyn Murphy. Is one figure more or less damaging to women's self-image? Certainly all look as though they have the strength and wherewithal to take care of themselves. (The various drugs sometimes called upon in both industries to increase muscle mass, dull the appetite or otherwise lend an artificial edge are part of another discussion.)
The new Nike advertising campaign has been incorrectly lumped into this "real" aesthetic. One ad features a close-up of a woman's thigh in a pair of running shorts. The copy has the owner of that leg proclaiming, "I have thunder thighs. And that is a compliment because they are strong and toned and muscular." Let's be clear. These are not thunder thighs. These are runner's thighs. Biker's legs. They are not "real." And there is nothing average about them. They are spectacular and inspiring. They make one want to rush out and buy a new pair of Nike sneakers, strap on an iPod and start training for next year's Marine Corps Marathon.
I think that the post is confused. That runner/jock girl's legs are "thunder thighs" they are real. Its genetics. I have them. of course they have been produced over years and years of strenuous activity.
The point is not that they don't exist, the point is that those of us with the chiseled legs and bodies are just as self-conscious about our bodies as those twiggy girls. In fact perhaps more so, because we are different. You can't identify a pair of thunder thighs unless you see them naked. without clothing, my thighs are real, giant muscles. However, if you see them with clothes on, they are just big-ole-honkin'-legs.
the point is not that these legs don't exist, its that they do exist and those of us who have them often wish we didn't. I have played volleyball at all levels, from little kid--to-- college, and coached the same. I know that every volleyball player I have ever known grew these thighs, and everyone struggled with them. I have seen girls near-death because of debilitating exercise-bulimia/anorexia. All because of those muscles.
the point is that it is sad that we athletes need someone to tell us that it is okay to have our hulking muscles. That we need to embrace them because they will never go away, even when we have starved ourselves, they will be the last thing to go, just before death.
the point is, nike is doing a good thing. For once.
Don't ever think that women won't feel bad about themselves, or that there aren't those that want to look better, and feel better about how they look in the present.
the point is ... female athletes are people, not an anomaly
It may be that the athletic physique is celebrated because sports is held in high regard. Sports milestones in diversity, for example, are celebrated in history books. The model figure is maligned because the fashion industry could not be perceived as more frivolous and superficial. Cultural breakthroughs are acknowledged with little more than a shrug.
Try, for a moment, to separate the bodies from the business. Marion Jones vs. Naomi Campbell. Maria Sharapova vs. Carolyn Murphy. Is one figure more or less damaging to women's self-image? Certainly all look as though they have the strength and wherewithal to take care of themselves. (The various drugs sometimes called upon in both industries to increase muscle mass, dull the appetite or otherwise lend an artificial edge are part of another discussion.)
The new Nike advertising campaign has been incorrectly lumped into this "real" aesthetic. One ad features a close-up of a woman's thigh in a pair of running shorts. The copy has the owner of that leg proclaiming, "I have thunder thighs. And that is a compliment because they are strong and toned and muscular." Let's be clear. These are not thunder thighs. These are runner's thighs. Biker's legs. They are not "real." And there is nothing average about them. They are spectacular and inspiring. They make one want to rush out and buy a new pair of Nike sneakers, strap on an iPod and start training for next year's Marine Corps Marathon.
I think that the post is confused. That runner/jock girl's legs are "thunder thighs" they are real. Its genetics. I have them. of course they have been produced over years and years of strenuous activity.
The point is not that they don't exist, the point is that those of us with the chiseled legs and bodies are just as self-conscious about our bodies as those twiggy girls. In fact perhaps more so, because we are different. You can't identify a pair of thunder thighs unless you see them naked. without clothing, my thighs are real, giant muscles. However, if you see them with clothes on, they are just big-ole-honkin'-legs.
the point is not that these legs don't exist, its that they do exist and those of us who have them often wish we didn't. I have played volleyball at all levels, from little kid--to-- college, and coached the same. I know that every volleyball player I have ever known grew these thighs, and everyone struggled with them. I have seen girls near-death because of debilitating exercise-bulimia/anorexia. All because of those muscles.
the point is that it is sad that we athletes need someone to tell us that it is okay to have our hulking muscles. That we need to embrace them because they will never go away, even when we have starved ourselves, they will be the last thing to go, just before death.
the point is, nike is doing a good thing. For once.
Don't ever think that women won't feel bad about themselves, or that there aren't those that want to look better, and feel better about how they look in the present.
the point is ... female athletes are people, not an anomaly
what a waste of a label.
chanel meets the pits.
Apparently it is cool to have designer armpits. whoa. what a friggin waste of money. I reccomend dove. It moisturizes that delicate skin to keep it soft, and it also keeps you from smelling like a boy.
and it's only 3 bucks a stick! Now that's an investment.
Apparently it is cool to have designer armpits. whoa. what a friggin waste of money. I reccomend dove. It moisturizes that delicate skin to keep it soft, and it also keeps you from smelling like a boy.
and it's only 3 bucks a stick! Now that's an investment.
I'm sick of...
~How I am ready to fall asleep at any moment.
~people talking to me while im in lines. no. sir. I don't like tomatoes. No, I'm not pregnant. (nor do I look like it at all) And I just want chicken. don't talk to me ever again.
~people giving me crap for being younger than them. Yes, I am younger. Which translates to... I must be smarter than you, I don't have wrinkles, and I'm taller. Suck it up. Just because i'm nice doesn't mean i will just roll over whenever you feel like making some one feel bad. I went to grade-school too, and yes it wasn't that long ago, THUS, I remember how to put you in your place. Thankyouverymuch.
~when people ask me for the time and point to their wrist. A watch goes there? wow!!! Then get one and leave me alone. I don't point to my crotch when I ask where the bathroom is do I?
~people who say oh you work there? my friend is (insert # of years older than me here) and he has been trying to get in there for years... (with a pause waiting for me to say who I must have slept with to get here) and my reply of oh... i guess I'm special, cause I didn't even have to apply, they found me!
~married men that tell me how hot I am. *blech*
~Not having stuff in common with people my own age.
~Not having stuff in common with people older or younger than me.
~not having cable.
~moving my desk.
~people talking to me while im in lines. no. sir. I don't like tomatoes. No, I'm not pregnant. (nor do I look like it at all) And I just want chicken. don't talk to me ever again.
~people giving me crap for being younger than them. Yes, I am younger. Which translates to... I must be smarter than you, I don't have wrinkles, and I'm taller. Suck it up. Just because i'm nice doesn't mean i will just roll over whenever you feel like making some one feel bad. I went to grade-school too, and yes it wasn't that long ago, THUS, I remember how to put you in your place. Thankyouverymuch.
~when people ask me for the time and point to their wrist. A watch goes there? wow!!! Then get one and leave me alone. I don't point to my crotch when I ask where the bathroom is do I?
~people who say oh you work there? my friend is (insert # of years older than me here) and he has been trying to get in there for years... (with a pause waiting for me to say who I must have slept with to get here) and my reply of oh... i guess I'm special, cause I didn't even have to apply, they found me!
~married men that tell me how hot I am. *blech*
~Not having stuff in common with people my own age.
~Not having stuff in common with people older or younger than me.
~not having cable.
~moving my desk.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Depart not from the path which fate has you assigned.
That was in my fortune cookie last week. I don't get chinese food often.
The fortune the time before that was : You will be unusually successful in business.
A cookie has no bearing on my fate, nor my business sucess (or lack thereof)
and yet I still keep the fortunes. Its as if I don't believe, but I'm fearful of what reality is. That is to say, just in case the chinese have anything to say about it, i've always got business goin for me.
Religion is that way for me too. It's perhaps insanely hypocritcal, but I'm a deist.
hum. voltaire and I have something in common. good to know.
The fortune the time before that was : You will be unusually successful in business.
A cookie has no bearing on my fate, nor my business sucess (or lack thereof)
and yet I still keep the fortunes. Its as if I don't believe, but I'm fearful of what reality is. That is to say, just in case the chinese have anything to say about it, i've always got business goin for me.
Religion is that way for me too. It's perhaps insanely hypocritcal, but I'm a deist.
Historical and modern Deism are defined by the view that reason, rather than revelation or tradition, should be the basis of belief in God. Deists reject organized religion and promote reason as the essential element in making moral decisions. This "rational" basis was usually founded upon the cosmological argument (first cause argument), the teleological argument (argument from design), and other aspects of what was called natural religion. Deism has become identified with the classical belief that God created but does not intervene in the world, though this is not a necessary component of deism.
Many deists hold different views on the nature of God, particularly on whether or not God intervenes in the world. The classical view is that the universe was created by a God who then makes no further intervention in its affairs. In this view, the reason God does not intervene in the world (via miracles) is not that God does not care, but rather that the best of all possible worlds has already been created and any intervention could not improve it. Historically, many deists adhered to this view; others hold a more pantheist or "pandeist" view that in creating the world, God became the world and does not exist as a separate entity from it; while some hold that God intervenes only as a subtle and persuasive force in the universe.
The classical view of an impersonal and abstract God has caused many to claim that deism is "cold" and amounts to atheism. Deists maintain that the opposite is true and that this view leads to a feeling of awe and reverence based on the fact that personal growth and a constant search for knowledge is required. This knowledge can be acquired from many sources including historical and modern interpretations found in the many varied fields of science (biology, physics, etc.) and philosophy. While many religions have an adversarial opposition to modern views such as those found in science, this is not an issue for deism -- as reconcilation and unification are desired.
The words deism and theism are closely related and this sometimes leads to controversy. The root of the word "deism" is from the Latin deus, while the root of the word theism comes from the Greek theos, both meaning god in English. However, theism can include faith or revelation as a basis for belief, while deism includes only belief which can be substantiated through reason.
Deism and prayer
Many deists who do not believe in divine intervention still find value in prayer. They think of it as a form of meditation and self-cleansing, which can improve one's life and lead to one's efforts being more effective.
hum. voltaire and I have something in common. good to know.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
a long time.
Its been a long time since I have posted. For that, I'm sorry.
Updates:
I am buying a new car. a cushy one that I can run into the ground. But will be comfy as hell untill it dies.
Something I didn't realize:
when I call people from work, the number they see is my customer service number. hahaha. That CS receptionist is getting hang-ups from my friends.
Health:
I'm still kinda sick, but no longer the "I-feel-like-im-gonna-die-any-min-now" now its the "meetings-are-akward-when-i-hit-a-lung-expulsion-fit".
Travel:
As long as I can afford it, I'm going to go to Boston the last weekend of next month to visit "theBRez" and my other friends from college up there. I'm excited. i like boston.
Observation:
Yesterday I went to my little bro's football game. I wasn't the only one in a suit. However, I was the youngest and only girl.(hum I think i see a pattern) I had a blast and met bro's new girlfriend who is gorgeous and very nice. Way to go little bro! People call me ma'am. Wait, not people, high school kids. People I knew didn't recognize me. *sigh*
Updates:
I am buying a new car. a cushy one that I can run into the ground. But will be comfy as hell untill it dies.
Something I didn't realize:
when I call people from work, the number they see is my customer service number. hahaha. That CS receptionist is getting hang-ups from my friends.
Health:
I'm still kinda sick, but no longer the "I-feel-like-im-gonna-die-any-min-now" now its the "meetings-are-akward-when-i-hit-a-lung-expulsion-fit".
Travel:
As long as I can afford it, I'm going to go to Boston the last weekend of next month to visit "theBRez" and my other friends from college up there. I'm excited. i like boston.
Observation:
Yesterday I went to my little bro's football game. I wasn't the only one in a suit. However, I was the youngest and only girl.(hum I think i see a pattern) I had a blast and met bro's new girlfriend who is gorgeous and very nice. Way to go little bro! People call me ma'am. Wait, not people, high school kids. People I knew didn't recognize me. *sigh*
Thursday, August 18, 2005
My Blackberry and my new assistant.
Yesterday I got an assistant. that's the way stuff works out where i work. One day-- you show up and sit down at your desk to do work, then get that creepy feeling that you are being watched, only to turn around to see that someone has been standing a foot from you, for who knows how long. "D" thought she was taking my job. she was wrong. 38yrs old and reporting to me. ha. she's pissed.
"If time imposes on us its evolution, place also imposes upon us its reality."
~Gamal Abdel Nasser
Just because you are old doesn't mean you are more experienced or qualified. (wisdom of the hippy)
friend from boston- "SO. your the first one of your class with a berry, then... a friggin assistant. You should write that into your college and tell them that you may have not been cincia, but you won long-term"
ahhh. feeling good.
"If time imposes on us its evolution, place also imposes upon us its reality."
~Gamal Abdel Nasser
Just because you are old doesn't mean you are more experienced or qualified. (wisdom of the hippy)
friend from boston- "SO. your the first one of your class with a berry, then... a friggin assistant. You should write that into your college and tell them that you may have not been cincia, but you won long-term"
ahhh. feeling good.
Monday, August 15, 2005
My trip to philly and the time spent with mother.
Last Friday, I left work, ran home, then hopped in my family's honda with my mother for the drive to rittenhouse square philly.
My (step-)grandmother lives there in a beautiful building with marble everything from floor to ceiling. This lady, is not just my grandmother, she is mentor. She knows when to ask me about politics, (only early in the morning or late at night)when I'm sad, sick, or confused, and what to say to me 24/7 to help me fix it.
I didn't get to meet her untill I was 12 years old. I knew she exsisted untill that time, but nothing else. She never had kids, and being the oldest of the kids in my family-line, I got to be her first grandchild.
I guess that makes me spoiled in a way, as my brother and i ended up as the only grandkids that didn't dismiss her as our grandfather's "hussy". I will never understand why anybody in their right mind would dismiss her (or anyone for that matter) as such a derogatory being.
She was a co-worker of my grandfather's and she loved to fly. I don't blame him for loving her. She was perfect for him. They loved each other with everything they had, and everytime I think about her facial expressions when I mention him, I want to cry. (No, I'm not crying because I'm sick and feel like crap)
So, she is an amazing human being, who I love with every ounce of myself. Early last week, she fell down the granite stairs of her apt building, breaking her arm, wrist, and requiring lots of stiches. She told me that she
~"miscalculated the number of steps because I was carrying too much stuff to see, and then rather than tumbling down the stairs, I flew. It was a rough landing, but I walked away from it."
Mom and I went to visit her and take care of her for the weekend. My mom and I are not best-friends. We tolerate each other only because we love one another. If we were not related we would never speak to each other again. Often that is what we have tried, but the damned spawner-spawnee relationship inevitably rears its ugly head.
We rarely do things together, and those things are limited to family events, and spritzed with an occasional girlie-movie cause no one else will go with us.
A 3+ hour trip with her as my co-pilot was not an exciting prospect.
I-95 was backed up. The country station went to commercial. "NOOO!!!!!!" I screamed inside my head, hoping that mom would look out the window and enjoy the commercials. To no avail, she turns, not just head, but full body, towards me and says... "You know, you will find someone who gets it eventually."
Puzzled, I say "What's that?
She continues. A guy. That understands what you are, that isn't afraid of you and everything that goes with you.
I sigh knowing I'm in for a long drive.
She tells me that so far, guys my age are still afriad of me. I have "it" together, a good job, a great future for advance, I'm smart, I'm educated, I'm determinded, I'm tall, and beautiful. (I quietly scoff at the last part.)
She continued. you're a threat to everyone, in their jobs, their love-lives, and their belief-systems. People look up to you, and they therefore do not believe they deserve any affilliation or relationship with you.
Which explains why guys who get to know you freak out. (my mom knows can use freak out in context? weird.)
~~I know that people do freak out on me. They are fine, then one day, they instantly hate that "She is good at everything, and I hate loosing all the time to her." "She's perfect and I am not good enough." {or my favorite} "Why doesn't everyone hate her? Everyone should hate her, because she's snobby and everyone likes her and she gets everything." (direct quotes might i add)~~
Mom has a small point buried in the muck of "I love my daughter adjectives" people are intimidated. I find this ironic. I'm quiet and shy, unassuming, I don't like to draw attention to myself, and hardly ever speak unless absolutely necessary; yet I'm intimidating. Sad.
My boss feels the same way in his new job. He told me he hates giving speeches, because he knows that he's always talking to a room of highly-ingrained professionals, so he can't make any misstakes. He gets nervous and over-prepares, while his predecessor would have spoken off-the-cuff and with easeof-BS. That makes me like him even more. And gives me something to identify with. He's this very well-known and important guy, and the things that made me nervous about working with him are the same things that he is uncomfortable within himself.
Mom managed to make me really sad for the future. Not because I think I'm wonderful, but because I scare others, and I'm afraid that the kind of person that can handle that is going to be in very short supply. My mom told me not to settle. That I'm smarter than I think, and that even though the future in the friends/relationships dept. looks grim, that I just have to seize every opportunity. *sigh*
My grandma is rough looking, but she's a trooper, so she'll be fine. I got to spend the weekend with her, and even though I'm sick I didn't really notice untill I got in the car to drive back home. The ride home was full of mom yelling at my driving, the cars around us, and the traffic because of the beach/travellers/closing of the WW bridge. Beautiful weekend.
My (step-)grandmother lives there in a beautiful building with marble everything from floor to ceiling. This lady, is not just my grandmother, she is mentor. She knows when to ask me about politics, (only early in the morning or late at night)when I'm sad, sick, or confused, and what to say to me 24/7 to help me fix it.
I didn't get to meet her untill I was 12 years old. I knew she exsisted untill that time, but nothing else. She never had kids, and being the oldest of the kids in my family-line, I got to be her first grandchild.
I guess that makes me spoiled in a way, as my brother and i ended up as the only grandkids that didn't dismiss her as our grandfather's "hussy". I will never understand why anybody in their right mind would dismiss her (or anyone for that matter) as such a derogatory being.
She was a co-worker of my grandfather's and she loved to fly. I don't blame him for loving her. She was perfect for him. They loved each other with everything they had, and everytime I think about her facial expressions when I mention him, I want to cry. (No, I'm not crying because I'm sick and feel like crap)
So, she is an amazing human being, who I love with every ounce of myself. Early last week, she fell down the granite stairs of her apt building, breaking her arm, wrist, and requiring lots of stiches. She told me that she
~"miscalculated the number of steps because I was carrying too much stuff to see, and then rather than tumbling down the stairs, I flew. It was a rough landing, but I walked away from it."
Mom and I went to visit her and take care of her for the weekend. My mom and I are not best-friends. We tolerate each other only because we love one another. If we were not related we would never speak to each other again. Often that is what we have tried, but the damned spawner-spawnee relationship inevitably rears its ugly head.
We rarely do things together, and those things are limited to family events, and spritzed with an occasional girlie-movie cause no one else will go with us.
A 3+ hour trip with her as my co-pilot was not an exciting prospect.
I-95 was backed up. The country station went to commercial. "NOOO!!!!!!" I screamed inside my head, hoping that mom would look out the window and enjoy the commercials. To no avail, she turns, not just head, but full body, towards me and says... "You know, you will find someone who gets it eventually."
Puzzled, I say "What's that?
She continues. A guy. That understands what you are, that isn't afraid of you and everything that goes with you.
I sigh knowing I'm in for a long drive.
She tells me that so far, guys my age are still afriad of me. I have "it" together, a good job, a great future for advance, I'm smart, I'm educated, I'm determinded, I'm tall, and beautiful. (I quietly scoff at the last part.)
She continued. you're a threat to everyone, in their jobs, their love-lives, and their belief-systems. People look up to you, and they therefore do not believe they deserve any affilliation or relationship with you.
Which explains why guys who get to know you freak out. (my mom knows can use freak out in context? weird.)
~~I know that people do freak out on me. They are fine, then one day, they instantly hate that "She is good at everything, and I hate loosing all the time to her." "She's perfect and I am not good enough." {or my favorite} "Why doesn't everyone hate her? Everyone should hate her, because she's snobby and everyone likes her and she gets everything." (direct quotes might i add)~~
Mom has a small point buried in the muck of "I love my daughter adjectives" people are intimidated. I find this ironic. I'm quiet and shy, unassuming, I don't like to draw attention to myself, and hardly ever speak unless absolutely necessary; yet I'm intimidating. Sad.
My boss feels the same way in his new job. He told me he hates giving speeches, because he knows that he's always talking to a room of highly-ingrained professionals, so he can't make any misstakes. He gets nervous and over-prepares, while his predecessor would have spoken off-the-cuff and with easeof-BS. That makes me like him even more. And gives me something to identify with. He's this very well-known and important guy, and the things that made me nervous about working with him are the same things that he is uncomfortable within himself.
Mom managed to make me really sad for the future. Not because I think I'm wonderful, but because I scare others, and I'm afraid that the kind of person that can handle that is going to be in very short supply. My mom told me not to settle. That I'm smarter than I think, and that even though the future in the friends/relationships dept. looks grim, that I just have to seize every opportunity. *sigh*
My grandma is rough looking, but she's a trooper, so she'll be fine. I got to spend the weekend with her, and even though I'm sick I didn't really notice untill I got in the car to drive back home. The ride home was full of mom yelling at my driving, the cars around us, and the traffic because of the beach/travellers/closing of the WW bridge. Beautiful weekend.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Double dutch for the aged.
only the jumpy survive.
How cool are these ladies? they are double dutching every friday night for kicks. They might break a hip, but at least they will go down in a thundering gleeful crash.
Now if I was 50 I wouldn't be singing the songs I remembered from childhood like they do, because I can't even remember those songs now. So not only are they spry, but they are whippy too.
(That's right I just made it up. I can do that cause I'm the only one that reads this blog anyway.)
How cool are these ladies? they are double dutching every friday night for kicks. They might break a hip, but at least they will go down in a thundering gleeful crash.
Now if I was 50 I wouldn't be singing the songs I remembered from childhood like they do, because I can't even remember those songs now. So not only are they spry, but they are whippy too.
Congrats ladies, you get my coolest group of the month award.
(That's right I just made it up. I can do that cause I'm the only one that reads this blog anyway.)
Monday, August 08, 2005
Smith College and the highway
My friend "the man breznahan" just called me at 2pm on a workday. why you ask??
Because as he was driving up in boston on the highway, he came up behind a honda CRV that had been encircled in cars by every angle. Curious as to why there was traffic surrounding one car when there was no one else on the road, he pulled up to the center car.
Seeing a Smith sticker and one of the various "save the _____" stickers that could have been applied, he pulled up next to the crv.
Looking into the car...
he sees the girl driving has no shirt on. And no bra.
The Brez doesn't know what to do, so he gives a thumbs-up sign and passes her.
Only a Smith girl, and only The Brez.
Because as he was driving up in boston on the highway, he came up behind a honda CRV that had been encircled in cars by every angle. Curious as to why there was traffic surrounding one car when there was no one else on the road, he pulled up to the center car.
Seeing a Smith sticker and one of the various "save the _____" stickers that could have been applied, he pulled up next to the crv.
Looking into the car...
he sees the girl driving has no shirt on. And no bra.
The Brez doesn't know what to do, so he gives a thumbs-up sign and passes her.
Only a Smith girl, and only The Brez.
Currently reading. ..
"Pledged: The secret life of sororities" ~By Alexandra Robbins.
I went to a women's college. Hello! I was in soror-land for 4 years. At my school, sororities were banned in the 80s because so many girls were killing themselves because they didn't get picked at rush.
But then came the 90s and the emergence of one friggin huge sorority.
Kappa Gamma Delta.
By the time I got to my school, all the banned activities had just morphed into similarly named and school sanctioned events. Fall fest! omg. I will always love fall fest. Singularly the greatest memory I have of college. Beats sophomore surprise, spring fling, and all of the other events combined.
We didn't study for weeks beforehand. We made skits, songs and Step-shows to go with them, cheers, costumes, shirts, and planned the whole day's activities to the min. I never slept during the week of fall fest, and always went to the after party.
Okay sorry about the gushing. I know that I will always miss it.
Anyway, So the book. I always wondered what sororities were like at other schools, we had ladies from 1920 coming back to do skits and dance, so if nothing else we had tradition. So I decided to read the book.
I was a phoenix girl for my boyfriend's frat. Anyone familliar with greeks knows what that is, but I was lucky that I was not a student there. I had all the perks and not many of the negative aspects. All my partying was comped, but i did have to work their car washes a few times. Whatever.
I knew about all of the "questionable things" that went on with both my and his groups, but I was one of the girls that was a "leader" and he was the vp, so neither of us could be involved if we wanted to. We were damage control.
The book is realistic though, it presents things as they really happened. Maybe not the greatest pr for nationals, but most greek orgs don't have the horrible stuff happen that often. And that stuff happens with non-greek events just as much. I do think that there is a bum-rap that they are given.
I will always love my girls.
My friends and i know that no one can begin to understand what our college-lives were like, because if you didn't go with us? You have no damned clue. Its sad, we try to explain it, but it is impossible to put into verbage.
I loved it. Even when we all hated each other. When we had our group pms and cramps, we all wanted to vomit. When we dealt with a loser ex boyf, we knew exactly what to do. Cry, tell them you hated him too, you deserve better, he's stupid, your not fat, but let's go get a movie and some ben&jerry's cherry garcia or magic brownies.
I miss it and always will.
Isn't it funny...
How when you live in our area, you start to give locations/directions by deaths/stabbings/drive-bys??
I was helping my best friend move this saturday, and I noticed that we all started saying stuff like,
~oh, yea ... its just a block from the store that had... what four stabbings the other day?
~really? I thought that's were the daylight driveby was.
~Nah. That was down by your house. Get your crimes straight girl.
~oh. My bad. I knew it was one of our houses.
I was helping my best friend move this saturday, and I noticed that we all started saying stuff like,
~oh, yea ... its just a block from the store that had... what four stabbings the other day?
~really? I thought that's were the daylight driveby was.
~Nah. That was down by your house. Get your crimes straight girl.
~oh. My bad. I knew it was one of our houses.
Fcuk That I would punch every bee in the face.
C/O Dane Cook and the hippy.
I went to Coyote Ugly on friday for my friend's birthday. Woah.
A little friendly advice for fellow females that are thinking about the experience of an "Ugly night":
1) Don't wear a skirt. Especially if you don't have cute equipment. Inevitably you will drink enough to dance on the bar. When you reach that point... no one will warn you about the whole I can see your baby-maker thing and it isn't gonna be pretty.
2) As cute as that white piece of clothing may look? Don't wear it. The pouring uglies have craptastic aim. You will get liqour all over your chest, and it will stain unless you are sportin' somthing dark.
3) Beware of roidial lesbians. I am lucky to have finely-tuned gaydar, but If you are not careful? That dude you are grinding on could have bigger breasts than you. Now, if thats not an issue for you? Rock on. If so... you might want to pay attention.
4) Don't fall off the bar. Nuff said.
5) Do wear a cute but not too expensive bra... just incase you feel the need to make a drunken donation.
6) If you need a date? The cops on guard at gallery place are all looking for girlfriends. good luck with that and tell them my friend and I said thanks for the directions.
I went to Coyote Ugly on friday for my friend's birthday. Woah.
A little friendly advice for fellow females that are thinking about the experience of an "Ugly night":
1) Don't wear a skirt. Especially if you don't have cute equipment. Inevitably you will drink enough to dance on the bar. When you reach that point... no one will warn you about the whole I can see your baby-maker thing and it isn't gonna be pretty.
2) As cute as that white piece of clothing may look? Don't wear it. The pouring uglies have craptastic aim. You will get liqour all over your chest, and it will stain unless you are sportin' somthing dark.
3) Beware of roidial lesbians. I am lucky to have finely-tuned gaydar, but If you are not careful? That dude you are grinding on could have bigger breasts than you. Now, if thats not an issue for you? Rock on. If so... you might want to pay attention.
4) Don't fall off the bar. Nuff said.
5) Do wear a cute but not too expensive bra... just incase you feel the need to make a drunken donation.
6) If you need a date? The cops on guard at gallery place are all looking for girlfriends. good luck with that and tell them my friend and I said thanks for the directions.
Friday, August 05, 2005
the ladies room in my very secure secondary office.
Dear ladies of the weirdo teachers-are-the-bomb organization next door,
Listen. I know we don't know each other, but we need to talk.
You destroy the bathroom. It smells bad. I'm the only girl on my side of the floor. I know I didn't do it. Thus, Its you guys. Use some air freshener or something. For god's sake.
Listen. I know we don't know each other, but we need to talk.
You destroy the bathroom. It smells bad. I'm the only girl on my side of the floor. I know I didn't do it. Thus, Its you guys. Use some air freshener or something. For god's sake.
10 Reasons why i will never have children.
1) I will be forevermore bitter that I have been "Blessed" "Dah--lin.. you've got those wonduhful child burin' hips Iah always wished i had, Labur wusjus so much trubul with this one here" (as my suthurn friend once said to me).
2) Not because I can't handle pain. I assure you I can. Its more the ... following the line of hair-flipping peers that are picking up formula and diet pills after willingly submitting to lots of pain for multiple hours.
3) Because "the family" has a 50/50 shot, on one side the genes are brilliant, the other side? friggin idiots.
4) Because there is a chance I would have a daughter. One more future beauty-queen in my mother's eyes. ew.
5) Because I have very little empathy for anyone. I'm jaded, exacting, and I would be the strictest mother ever. Drill sargent-like.
6) Because they will inevitably be either as uber-cool as my football playing brother is, or as uber-geeky as his chess team and yearbook editor older sister. Neither of which I would be to helpful to. Popular? congradufrickinlations kid. that just means you are not slated for world-domination, merely the nfl. Geektastic? Your childhood will suck. sorry. You will be locked in lockers for hours like your mother, you will be ridiculed by teachers, and probably have the opposite sex date you only as a result of bets, but there is always that lingering hope of world-domination to look forward to.
7) Because I am too competitive. Jockiness runs in my family, so I would most likely have at least one jock. I would be the worst ex-ncaa athlete mother ever.
8) Because I know that genetic seemliness is hard to live up to. Perfect parents expect perfect offspring.
9) Because people hate seeming perfection.
10)Because I know I would be a great mother. With all of my imperfections, I am everlastingly determinded. That being said, I have high expectations of everyone around me, and a child would follow suit. Thus when they made a misstep, I would be heartbroken, and would feel as though I failed. Failure I am not good with.
2) Not because I can't handle pain. I assure you I can. Its more the ... following the line of hair-flipping peers that are picking up formula and diet pills after willingly submitting to lots of pain for multiple hours.
3) Because "the family" has a 50/50 shot, on one side the genes are brilliant, the other side? friggin idiots.
4) Because there is a chance I would have a daughter. One more future beauty-queen in my mother's eyes. ew.
5) Because I have very little empathy for anyone. I'm jaded, exacting, and I would be the strictest mother ever. Drill sargent-like.
6) Because they will inevitably be either as uber-cool as my football playing brother is, or as uber-geeky as his chess team and yearbook editor older sister. Neither of which I would be to helpful to. Popular? congradufrickinlations kid. that just means you are not slated for world-domination, merely the nfl. Geektastic? Your childhood will suck. sorry. You will be locked in lockers for hours like your mother, you will be ridiculed by teachers, and probably have the opposite sex date you only as a result of bets, but there is always that lingering hope of world-domination to look forward to.
7) Because I am too competitive. Jockiness runs in my family, so I would most likely have at least one jock. I would be the worst ex-ncaa athlete mother ever.
8) Because I know that genetic seemliness is hard to live up to. Perfect parents expect perfect offspring.
9) Because people hate seeming perfection.
10)Because I know I would be a great mother. With all of my imperfections, I am everlastingly determinded. That being said, I have high expectations of everyone around me, and a child would follow suit. Thus when they made a misstep, I would be heartbroken, and would feel as though I failed. Failure I am not good with.
Tattoo-faced tyson turns to tawdry trade
That's right. alliteration. Boo-yea... *ahem* sorry.
tyson to do jameson
Of all the people in the world to have the chance to star with Jenna "queen of porn" jameson, Tyson is getting the shot.
Jenna is recruiting him.
Jenna. May I remind you he ate the ear of an fighter? He's beat the crap out of the women in his life... and yet you are going to allow his mouth and proported 14inch wife-beater near/in you?
I'm so sad Jenna. I thought you were the porn-star mogul that all of us likened-blonde bimbos could look up to. *sniff Sniff*
tyson to do jameson
Of all the people in the world to have the chance to star with Jenna "queen of porn" jameson, Tyson is getting the shot.
Jenna is recruiting him.
Jenna. May I remind you he ate the ear of an fighter? He's beat the crap out of the women in his life... and yet you are going to allow his mouth and proported 14inch wife-beater near/in you?
I'm so sad Jenna. I thought you were the porn-star mogul that all of us likened-blonde bimbos could look up to. *sniff Sniff*
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Go Becky Go!
The New York Liberty's Becky Hammon, in front, guards the Connecticut Sun's 7-foot-two-inch center Margo Dydek, of Poland, during the second half of their WNBA game at Madison Square Garden in New York.
Wow. real-life is way more entertaining than anything on the OC.
DC: The Land of the Flee
Holding down the fort in the land of the flee
Washington in August.
Not going to the Hamptons? St.Thomas cruise? not even taking a trip? Cool. We can do something.
I was thinking about going to Boston, and maybe the cape for a weekend. ~What am I kidding. I'm poor.
Then i thought... I could go visit my old NC. ~Wait. I don't have any time off.
OHHHOHOHHH I know! My birthday is next month, I could go to STL and relax at a Cards game. ~wait. I'd be going alone.
Even I've never intentionally gone to a game alone. What's wrong with a game alone? Nothing. What's wrong with a game alone on your birthday? a lot.
Maybe I'll test out the game by-yourself thing this week. A nice minor league game or something, to sit and practice my butt-check-game.
Washington in August.
Not going to the Hamptons? St.Thomas cruise? not even taking a trip? Cool. We can do something.
I was thinking about going to Boston, and maybe the cape for a weekend. ~What am I kidding. I'm poor.
Then i thought... I could go visit my old NC. ~Wait. I don't have any time off.
OHHHOHOHHH I know! My birthday is next month, I could go to STL and relax at a Cards game. ~wait. I'd be going alone.
Even I've never intentionally gone to a game alone. What's wrong with a game alone? Nothing. What's wrong with a game alone on your birthday? a lot.
Maybe I'll test out the game by-yourself thing this week. A nice minor league game or something, to sit and practice my butt-check-game.
Korean dog cloned. ... right.
little doggie clone...aw
That is the cutest....mini-dog? wait. Do we really need to clone dogs? Pounds are full of them just waiting to be adoped.
You really need spot's creepy mini version? You can't face the realities of life... that things will have to change. even creepy-spot-junior will die eventually. then what? clone him too? ew.
the wedding crashers rules. For my own reference.
Since I'm going to be a bridesmaid, and I know my friends are slated for the same fate, I thought it would be good to know the opposition. (I will be working on my own rules for bridesmaids):)
Rule # 1 – Never leave a fellow Crasher behind. Crashers take care of their own
Rule #2 – Never use your real name.
Rule #3 – Never confess.
Rule #4 – No one goes home alone.
Rule #5 – Never let a girl get between you and a fellow Crasher.
Rule # 6 – Do not sit in the corner and sulk. It draws attention in a negative way. Draw attention to yourself, but on your own terms.
Rule #7 – Blend in by standing out.
Rule # 8 – Be the life of the party.
Rule #9 – Whatever it takes to get in, get in.
Rule #10 – Invitations are for pussies.
Rule #11 – Sensitive is good.
Rule #12 – Of course you dream of one day having children.
Rule #13 – Bridesmaids are desperate – console them.
Rule #14 – You’re a distant relative of a dead cousin.
Rule #15 – Fight the urge to tell the truth.
Rule #16 – Always have an up-to-date family tree.
Rule #17 – Every female wedding guest deserves a wedding night.
Rule #18 – You love animals and children.
Rule # 19 – Toast in the native language if you know the native language and have practiced the toast. Do not wing it.
Rule #20 – Always have an early “appointment” the next morning.
Rule #21 – Make sure she’s 18.
Rule #22 – You have a wedding and a reception to seal the deal. Period. No overtime.
Rule #23 – There’s nothing wrong with having seconds. Provided there’s enough women to go around.
Rule #24 – If you get outted, leave calmly. Do not run.
Rule #25 – You understand she heard that but that’s not what you meant.
Rule # 26 – Of course you love her.
Rule #27 – Don’t over drink. The machinery must work in order to close.
Rule #28 – Make sure there’s an open bar.
Rule #29 – Always be a team player. Everyone needs a little help now and again.
Rule #30 – You’re from out of town. ALWAYS.
Rule #31 – Girls in hats tend to be proper and rarely give it up.
Rule #32 – Don’t commit to a relative unless you’re absolutely sure that they have a pulse.
Rule #33 – Never go back to your place.
Rule #34 -. Be gone by sunrise.
Rule #35 – Breakfast is for closers.
Rule #39 - Your favorite movie is “The English Patient”.
Rule #40 - No “chicken dancing” – no exceptions.
Rule #41 - Never hit on the bride! It’s a one-way ticket to the pavement.
Rule #42 – The way to a woman’s bed is through the dance floor.
Rule #43 - Dance with old folks and the kids. The girls will think you’re “sweet.”
Rule #44 - If there is a cash bar, bring your fake war medals. You’ll never have to buy a drink.
Rule #45 – You forgot your invitation in your rush to get to the church.
Rule #46 - At the service, sit in the fifth row. It’s close enough to wedding party to seem like you’re an invited guest. Never sit in the back. The back row just smells like crashing.
Rule #47 - If two rival crashers pick the same girl, the crasher with the least seniority will respectfully yield.
Rule #48 - Always remember your fake name!
Rule #49 - The Rules of Wedding Crashing are sacred. Don’t sully them by “improvising.”
Rule #50 – When your crash partner fails, you fail. No man is an island.
Rule # 1 – Never leave a fellow Crasher behind. Crashers take care of their own
Rule #2 – Never use your real name.
Rule #3 – Never confess.
Rule #4 – No one goes home alone.
Rule #5 – Never let a girl get between you and a fellow Crasher.
Rule # 6 – Do not sit in the corner and sulk. It draws attention in a negative way. Draw attention to yourself, but on your own terms.
Rule #7 – Blend in by standing out.
Rule # 8 – Be the life of the party.
Rule #9 – Whatever it takes to get in, get in.
Rule #10 – Invitations are for pussies.
Rule #11 – Sensitive is good.
Rule #12 – Of course you dream of one day having children.
Rule #13 – Bridesmaids are desperate – console them.
Rule #14 – You’re a distant relative of a dead cousin.
Rule #15 – Fight the urge to tell the truth.
Rule #16 – Always have an up-to-date family tree.
Rule #17 – Every female wedding guest deserves a wedding night.
Rule #18 – You love animals and children.
Rule # 19 – Toast in the native language if you know the native language and have practiced the toast. Do not wing it.
Rule #20 – Always have an early “appointment” the next morning.
Rule #21 – Make sure she’s 18.
Rule #22 – You have a wedding and a reception to seal the deal. Period. No overtime.
Rule #23 – There’s nothing wrong with having seconds. Provided there’s enough women to go around.
Rule #24 – If you get outted, leave calmly. Do not run.
Rule #25 – You understand she heard that but that’s not what you meant.
Rule # 26 – Of course you love her.
Rule #27 – Don’t over drink. The machinery must work in order to close.
Rule #28 – Make sure there’s an open bar.
Rule #29 – Always be a team player. Everyone needs a little help now and again.
Rule #30 – You’re from out of town. ALWAYS.
Rule #31 – Girls in hats tend to be proper and rarely give it up.
Rule #32 – Don’t commit to a relative unless you’re absolutely sure that they have a pulse.
Rule #33 – Never go back to your place.
Rule #34 -. Be gone by sunrise.
Rule #35 – Breakfast is for closers.
Rule #39 - Your favorite movie is “The English Patient”.
Rule #40 - No “chicken dancing” – no exceptions.
Rule #41 - Never hit on the bride! It’s a one-way ticket to the pavement.
Rule #42 – The way to a woman’s bed is through the dance floor.
Rule #43 - Dance with old folks and the kids. The girls will think you’re “sweet.”
Rule #44 - If there is a cash bar, bring your fake war medals. You’ll never have to buy a drink.
Rule #45 – You forgot your invitation in your rush to get to the church.
Rule #46 - At the service, sit in the fifth row. It’s close enough to wedding party to seem like you’re an invited guest. Never sit in the back. The back row just smells like crashing.
Rule #47 - If two rival crashers pick the same girl, the crasher with the least seniority will respectfully yield.
Rule #48 - Always remember your fake name!
Rule #49 - The Rules of Wedding Crashing are sacred. Don’t sully them by “improvising.”
Rule #50 – When your crash partner fails, you fail. No man is an island.
schrreeeeeechhhhh... metro stops people from .... stealing?
Every day I walk out to my cute little car, start it up, head to WAWA to grap my morning smiley-face-in-a-cup, wonder why people other than construction workers and myself go to wawa, then get back in my car and speed off ....
Towards my own private traffic jam. Oh how i love the traffic jam. Honestly. I hit it every morning in the same place. Its my symbol of continuity in the universe, the world's expression of a two thumbs up film.
Not only do traffic jams provide people watching time, a coffee intake respite, and even a little exercise (see bob karate and beauty of car dancing)they provide solace from the strains of the train. I love driving, I loathe the train. If I hadn't moved to the burbs and hadn't worked with damned hippies for so long I would never take public transportation. And Yes I am one of few similar riders of my train. An outcast. It sucks.
On the brightside, my car most likely won't be jacked. Why?
Beause WMATA says auto theft is down 40 percent at its parking lots. One purported reason: the SmarTrip card now required for parking fee payment is too much of a hassle for thieves.
---------------------That's right folks. Theives will not pay the $4 that it cost to take my car out of the lot. Come on. Is four dollars really that much to pay for a nice commuter's car? In all honesty most of the cars out in that lot have at least 4 bucks within them to repay your debt.
Ok. Maybe not my car. But I know that Jaguar next to me and the cromed-out escalade on the opposite side do. This just serves as a showcase of what is wrong with our society; that even our theives are lazy and underfunded. Or at least they suffer from the common dc-affliction of misappropriation of funds.
currently listening... to Jamie cullum c/o mel. she's right. I love it.
Towards my own private traffic jam. Oh how i love the traffic jam. Honestly. I hit it every morning in the same place. Its my symbol of continuity in the universe, the world's expression of a two thumbs up film.
Not only do traffic jams provide people watching time, a coffee intake respite, and even a little exercise (see bob karate and beauty of car dancing)they provide solace from the strains of the train. I love driving, I loathe the train. If I hadn't moved to the burbs and hadn't worked with damned hippies for so long I would never take public transportation. And Yes I am one of few similar riders of my train. An outcast. It sucks.
On the brightside, my car most likely won't be jacked. Why?
Beause WMATA says auto theft is down 40 percent at its parking lots. One purported reason: the SmarTrip card now required for parking fee payment is too much of a hassle for thieves.
---------------------That's right folks. Theives will not pay the $4 that it cost to take my car out of the lot. Come on. Is four dollars really that much to pay for a nice commuter's car? In all honesty most of the cars out in that lot have at least 4 bucks within them to repay your debt.
Ok. Maybe not my car. But I know that Jaguar next to me and the cromed-out escalade on the opposite side do. This just serves as a showcase of what is wrong with our society; that even our theives are lazy and underfunded. Or at least they suffer from the common dc-affliction of misappropriation of funds.
currently listening... to Jamie cullum c/o mel. she's right. I love it.
rules for drinking alone... stolen from My Blog is Poop
- DON'T tell anybody about it. If you do, you risk the possibility that a friend might say, "Oh, you're drinking? Cool! I'll drop by. Want me give Mike a call, I'm sure he'll be down too." Then suddenly you're no longer drinking alone, you're entertaining people. And that sucks.
- DON'T drink beer. It's wasteful. You're going to have to drink a lot of it to get drunk, so chances are you're going to get bored with the concept of drinking alone before you actually start to feel it. Beer is a friend drink, whiskey is an alone drink. Remember that.
- DON'T drink wine. Unless you're sleeping outside. And drinking it out of a paper bag. Then it's cool.
- DO occupy your mind with something else while drinking. The thought, "I'm drinking alone" gets depressing after a while, so make sure you have something else to concentrate on. Sports work. As do movies. But do not, I repeat, DO NOT watch porn. The combination of drinking alone plus doing something else alone has the potential to depress you to the point of no return. And it's not pretty.
- DON'T go through old photo albums. Don't start rummaging through that junk drawer. Don't start thinking about high school and college. Actually, don't even think about what you were doing earlier that day either, it can only depress you. You know what was more fun that sitting by yourself drinking Jack out of a coffee mug, Tony Almeida-style? Everything.
- DO try writing something. Even if you don't consider yourself a writer. Just grab a pen and some paper and go to it. It doesn't even matter what you write: poems, short stories, essays, a great American novel. Whatever. Most of our greatest authors were drunks, and now you're just like them! Go for it!
- DON'T listen to music by the following artists: Radiohead, Travis, Arcade Fire, Counting Crows, Sufjan Stevens, or the Venga Boys. Especially not the Venga Boys.
- DO listen to George Thoroughgood. And relate.
- DO read something. Like a book. It will make you feel productive, like you're not wasting your life away by drinking alone. You're drinking alone AND getting smarter. It's a win-win.
- DO devote some time to staring out your window up at the sky like Fievel from "An American Tail." But don't start singing that fucking song... unless of course you're so drunk that it will make you laugh.
- DON'T blog while you're drinking alone. You'll only embarrass yourself. That's what livejournals are for.
- Finally, DON'T even blog about drinking alone. Because inevitably people will start pitying you, even if the idea for the post came from a friendly conversation about purchasing a flask and NOT from the act of actually drinking alone. I swear.
- DON'T drink beer. It's wasteful. You're going to have to drink a lot of it to get drunk, so chances are you're going to get bored with the concept of drinking alone before you actually start to feel it. Beer is a friend drink, whiskey is an alone drink. Remember that.
- DON'T drink wine. Unless you're sleeping outside. And drinking it out of a paper bag. Then it's cool.
- DO occupy your mind with something else while drinking. The thought, "I'm drinking alone" gets depressing after a while, so make sure you have something else to concentrate on. Sports work. As do movies. But do not, I repeat, DO NOT watch porn. The combination of drinking alone plus doing something else alone has the potential to depress you to the point of no return. And it's not pretty.
- DON'T go through old photo albums. Don't start rummaging through that junk drawer. Don't start thinking about high school and college. Actually, don't even think about what you were doing earlier that day either, it can only depress you. You know what was more fun that sitting by yourself drinking Jack out of a coffee mug, Tony Almeida-style? Everything.
- DO try writing something. Even if you don't consider yourself a writer. Just grab a pen and some paper and go to it. It doesn't even matter what you write: poems, short stories, essays, a great American novel. Whatever. Most of our greatest authors were drunks, and now you're just like them! Go for it!
- DON'T listen to music by the following artists: Radiohead, Travis, Arcade Fire, Counting Crows, Sufjan Stevens, or the Venga Boys. Especially not the Venga Boys.
- DO listen to George Thoroughgood. And relate.
- DO read something. Like a book. It will make you feel productive, like you're not wasting your life away by drinking alone. You're drinking alone AND getting smarter. It's a win-win.
- DO devote some time to staring out your window up at the sky like Fievel from "An American Tail." But don't start singing that fucking song... unless of course you're so drunk that it will make you laugh.
- DON'T blog while you're drinking alone. You'll only embarrass yourself. That's what livejournals are for.
- Finally, DON'T even blog about drinking alone. Because inevitably people will start pitying you, even if the idea for the post came from a friendly conversation about purchasing a flask and NOT from the act of actually drinking alone. I swear.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
speaking of pants.
I am wearing capri pants today. I put them on this morning, with my matching suited attire, and commuted into work. I think the "I'm awake and functioning at 4:30am" thing is really starting to take its toll.
Why you ask?
Because I am now aware that my pants are falling off. i know, not the biggest problem ever, but still. I just bought these suckers last month, and they are too big.
Which begs the question, What do you do with pants you just bought, are wearing, and are not going to be working out for you in the future?
Do you say... "Its not you super cute white capris. Its me. I just started working out too much. i will always love you. i just cant be with you anymore. Maybe we shouldn't see each other. It's too hard."
or perhaps the more direct..."Sorry whitie...you are for fatter people. don't call us we'll call you."
or... "I have a friend you might like. you and me? i think we should only see each other on 'fluffy' days."
Why you ask?
Because I am now aware that my pants are falling off. i know, not the biggest problem ever, but still. I just bought these suckers last month, and they are too big.
Which begs the question, What do you do with pants you just bought, are wearing, and are not going to be working out for you in the future?
Do you say... "Its not you super cute white capris. Its me. I just started working out too much. i will always love you. i just cant be with you anymore. Maybe we shouldn't see each other. It's too hard."
or perhaps the more direct..."Sorry whitie...you are for fatter people. don't call us we'll call you."
or... "I have a friend you might like. you and me? i think we should only see each other on 'fluffy' days."
fergie, no one deserves that.
AW poor fergie. Even if people hate you, no one deserves this.
poor Poor fergie.
Guys in the band. Why didn't you tell her???
Wait. what i really mean is, why people in her proximity, did you not stand up and scream... FERGIE IT LOOKS LIKE YOU WET YOURSELF!!!
I'm so sorry.
poor Poor fergie.
Guys in the band. Why didn't you tell her???
Wait. what i really mean is, why people in her proximity, did you not stand up and scream... FERGIE IT LOOKS LIKE YOU WET YOURSELF!!!
I'm so sorry.
norton. that self-important bizach strikes again.
local lawmakers head to Cuba.
You don't have a vote. You hear me Norton?!? I've been to your office. Was it to get you to sign my bill? Nope. you know why? because you represent a place that doen't really exist. Yes, people live and work in DC. But just because you are allowed to have a corner in your building way out of the way by the elevators that no one ever goes to does not mean you should be sticking your damned nose into Cuba.
Are you on the IR committee? nope.
Does it really matter that you are ranking on any committee? Nope.
You should perhaps be focusing on something more pertinent and local to your district.
hum... let me think. gun control? Crime? education? fiscal responsibility? maybe even taxation with representation?!!! That might be a good idea!
You don't have a vote. You hear me Norton?!? I've been to your office. Was it to get you to sign my bill? Nope. you know why? because you represent a place that doen't really exist. Yes, people live and work in DC. But just because you are allowed to have a corner in your building way out of the way by the elevators that no one ever goes to does not mean you should be sticking your damned nose into Cuba.
Are you on the IR committee? nope.
Does it really matter that you are ranking on any committee? Nope.
You should perhaps be focusing on something more pertinent and local to your district.
hum... let me think. gun control? Crime? education? fiscal responsibility? maybe even taxation with representation?!!! That might be a good idea!
Monday, August 01, 2005
Driving is not for everyone.
I love to drive. To anywhere, almost anytime, and with almost anyone. Its fun. However, there are a few exceptions.
~Those with extreme gas or other odor problems.(If I put the windows down and I can still smell you? Other arangements will have to be made.)
~If I feel like I'm riding in a NASCAR or INDY race when we switch off. sometimes there are speed limits for a reason. I have a nice little life workin out right now, I'm trying to make it to tomarrow.
~If you force me to listen to some damned go-go music. I like everything else, why go-go?
~If you are blind, (night or day) or do not have the capability to read the traffic signs and understand them.
~Those with extreme gas or other odor problems.(If I put the windows down and I can still smell you? Other arangements will have to be made.)
~If I feel like I'm riding in a NASCAR or INDY race when we switch off. sometimes there are speed limits for a reason. I have a nice little life workin out right now, I'm trying to make it to tomarrow.
~If you force me to listen to some damned go-go music. I like everything else, why go-go?
~If you are blind, (night or day) or do not have the capability to read the traffic signs and understand them.
The forbes list
I moved from #40(area) to #5. I am here to attest that #40 should not be considered the awesome place that it is being given credit for. I've been to heaven and Natty's (and I'll admit i like natty's) but they fail to understand that there is no conversing with people you don't know! singles stay single in the 'boro. couples are engaged. nothing in between.
Thank god for #5!
1. Denver-Boulder
2. Boston
3. San Francisco
4. Raleigh-Durham
5. Washington-Baltimore
6. Atlanta
7. Los Angeles
8. New York
9. Chicago
10. Seattle
11. Austin
12. Philadelphia
13. Minneapolis-St. Paul
14. Phoenix
15. Sacramento
16. Detroit
17. Houston
18. Columbus
19. Portland
20. Dallas-Ft. Worth 21. San Diego
22. Nashville
23. Miami
24. Salt Lake City
25. Las Vegas
26. New Orleans
27. St. Louis
28. Cleveland
29. Pittsburgh
30. Cincinnati
31. Orlando
32. Milwaukee
33. Charlotte
34. Indianapolis
35. San Antonio
36. Tampa
37. Providence
38. Kansas City
39. Norfolk
40. Greensboro
addendum to the roomate ...
So I was in a bad mood. Clearly.
I should have been nicer, more forgiving and more relaxed. I know that paco isn't really my friend, but I guess he is by default. A friend by association?
Like Seinfeld. Jerry, Elaine, Cramer, and George were not really all one big friendship, equally distributed. More like friends of friends. Elaine never really hung out with george. Why should she? She was connected to Jerry. Only by association was she connected to Kramer and george.
I have associate friends. People who's number I don't have, nor email, nor screen names, and yet I find myself knowing more about them than some of my own friends. I think sometimes I have more associated friends than actual friends.
Hippy thinks that I am guarded with my feelings. He's absolutely correct. I don't feel, try not to do so unless absolutely necessary. Its not within me to work on the outs, I want control over situations that present themselves, and when you have everything out in the vastness for everyone else to see? You are subject to unforseen circumstances.
I am not however a void of human emotion. I am actually quite the opposite. You would just never know.
You try working in politics without a stronghold on your emotions! you will cry when you shouldnt, laugh when its inappropriate, and watch disdain dripping from your every word when you should be adoring.
Its sad but true that I am this way. Few people get more than face value, but those who do? For the chosen few, the possiblities are innumerable.
I should have been nicer, more forgiving and more relaxed. I know that paco isn't really my friend, but I guess he is by default. A friend by association?
Like Seinfeld. Jerry, Elaine, Cramer, and George were not really all one big friendship, equally distributed. More like friends of friends. Elaine never really hung out with george. Why should she? She was connected to Jerry. Only by association was she connected to Kramer and george.
I have associate friends. People who's number I don't have, nor email, nor screen names, and yet I find myself knowing more about them than some of my own friends. I think sometimes I have more associated friends than actual friends.
Hippy thinks that I am guarded with my feelings. He's absolutely correct. I don't feel, try not to do so unless absolutely necessary. Its not within me to work on the outs, I want control over situations that present themselves, and when you have everything out in the vastness for everyone else to see? You are subject to unforseen circumstances.
I am not however a void of human emotion. I am actually quite the opposite. You would just never know.
You try working in politics without a stronghold on your emotions! you will cry when you shouldnt, laugh when its inappropriate, and watch disdain dripping from your every word when you should be adoring.
Its sad but true that I am this way. Few people get more than face value, but those who do? For the chosen few, the possiblities are innumerable.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
