A Swift Kick & A Band-Aid

Thanks Girls

In a random pick me up tonight ...

I popped a button open on my shirt with my boobs (by accident, of course!)

Thanks, Girls! That was a nice physique-related ego boost.

The War Tapes Reminder

TONIGHT!!

Friday, June 30

5:10 7:35 9:50

E Street Cinema**
555 11th Street NW
Lincoln Square Building
Washington, DC 20004
(202) 452-7672

View the trailer here

Go out there and show these guys that what they have to say is important and we are listening.

**Entrance on E Street between 10th and 11th Street
100% metro accessible from the Blue, Green, Orange, Red and Yellow lines at the Metro Center and/or Gallery Place/Chinatown metro stops

Yo Toeny!

Yo Toeny!

Why don't you take a little walk ...

I thought I made it clear the last time ... I don't wanna see any of you or your crew around here again.

And you tell your goon Phoot-fungus I'm on to his laundering scheme too.

Capice?

That Softer Side

Dudes ... a quick hint here ... Mr. Josh Turner has a song that is exactly the kind that gets to me. Those Brad Paisley lyrics last week were mighty fine too. Call it campy, call it cheesey, call it whatever you want ... it still makes me smile ...

...and if you've got a problem with that, I'll punch you in the kidneys

Listen to it at CMT (not firefox friendly)

Would you go with me if we rolled down streets of fire
Would you hold on to me tighter as the summer sun got higher
If we roll from town to town and never shut it down

Would you go with me if we were lost in fields of clover
Would we walk even closer until the trip was over
And would it be okay if I didn't know the way

If I gave you my hand would you take it
And make me the happiest man in the world
If I told you my heart couldn't beat one more minute without you, girl
Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea
Let me know if you're really a dream
I love you so, so would you go with me

Would you go with me if we rode the clouds together
Could you not look down forever
If you were lighter than a feather
Oh, and if I set you free, would you go with me

If I gave you my hand would you take it
And make me the happiest man in the world
If I told you my heart couldn't beat one more minute without you, girl
Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea
Help me tie up the ends of a dream
I gotta know, would you go with me
I love you so, so would you go with me

Those Tightey Whiteys

Just how is it that every time my dad comes to town, I end up doing his laundry? And not just laundry, but his underwear!?

I swear its like he only has the three pair that came in the pack together from Kmart ...

The War Tapes

ATTENTION DC BLOGGERS:

The War Tapes screening has arrived!!
"It’s the first war movie filmed by soldiers themselves on the front lines in Iraq."
"These soldiers got the story the 2,700 embedded reporters never could."

Friday, June 30
11:40 2:25 5:10 7:35 9:50
E Street Cinema**
555 11th Street NW
Lincoln Square Building
Washington, DC 20004
(202) 452-7672

Get out there, go see the movie, and support the people who lived the story. It will only show for one week ... With that many showings, you've got no excuses, so DON'T MISS IT.

View the trailer here

**Entrance on E Street between 10th and 11th Street
100% metro accessible from the Blue, Green, Orange, Red and Yellow lines at the Metro Center and/or Gallery Place/Chinatown metro stops

That Sock Conversation

11:06 PM
me: well I'll do my best to keep you readers happy
just don't let me get bored, I start blogging about obscure things

reader: hey, it's all about substance

me: like cadavers or how terrible sex with socks on is

11:07 PM
reader: depends on what kind of socks

me: if they are socks, they suck
end of discussion

11:08 PM
reader: whatever, you're telling me there's no difference between ankle socks that get your feet and big ass tube socks that go halfway up your leg?

--------------------------------------------
I never got to finish this conversation, so I'll defend my position via blog ...

Having sex with socks on sucks. Period. SUCKS! Suck suckity suck suck sucks. I don't care how great the sex is, wearing socks just taints the whole damn experience for me.

Maybe this is just me, the person who can't stand other people's feet touching her own, but it is a huge peeve. I don't even like to wear socks during the day time, why would I want to wear them to bed? They make you all hot and make your feet get all caught up in the blankets. And then while you're having sex? That's just unnecessary friction potential and poor body ventilation.

Plus, if I'm wearing socks, my dude can't do that little thing I like ...

So you see, the type of sock does not matter. A sock is a sock is a sock. All of them evil, no matter their type.

Quick Karmic Circle

I had some somewhat good news fall into my lap today ...

That $1500 I dropped to bail that guy out of jail (A YEAR AGO) is finally headed back to me.

After at least 8 months of radio silence, he called me out of the blue and told me that everything was taken care of. Naturally, I was skeptical. I checked the case file online and it said essentially the same thing. All I could think was, "well, I'll be damned ... I never thought I'd see the day ... "

I am trying to figure out the karmic circle of it all though ...

Not 20 minutes before he called, my doorbell rang ... my doorbell NEVER rings. On the other side was a semi-handsome young gentleman selling coupon books ... in the rain. Generally I'm not interested - but then he mentioned the wheelchair basketball team and I didn't have the heart to shut the door. I flipped through the book and made my purchase donation.

Was that my karmic good deed that brought me circle enough to deserve this good news? Maybe. Maybe not. But karma sure did get the bail jumper's ass though ... he's got the worst case of shingles his local hospital has ever seen.

I love karma.

Goodnight Acidman

I was so stunned to read tonight that Acidman has passed away.

We never met but his was one of the first blogs I started reading when I started to get serious about putting on my blogger britches.

There is a great feeling of loss all across the country today.

Goodnight, Acidman

Ghost Dreams

I'm not really sure what has been going on lately, but I can't sleep for crap. There have just been a string of odd, creepy dreams that leave me tossing and turning for hours. I suppose I wouldn't mind so much if it were normal for me to dream, but it isn't. In the past, dreams have meant something. They have been previews of events to come or they have carried with them messages for me to decipher.

Last week there was the talking dog that left me feeling particularly disturbed one morning. Last night it was ghosts.

In a very House on Haunted Hill fashion, there were a group of people staying at my grandmother's house. Each person had their own bedroom ... and each was haunted in a different psych-ward induced nightmare-ish fashion. The house was filled with a variety of screams and terrible noises all night.

The girl in the bedroom next to mine was the only person I could communicate with. The ghosts in her room had slammed the door to the hall and refused to allow her to open the one that connected to my room. She kept screaming for help as I could hear her go insane with fear.

Futilely, I tried to reassure her - if you are nice to the ghosts, they will be nice back. I sat in my own room have a one sided conversation with at least 2 or 3 ghosts that I couldn't see but I knew were there. It was only small talk, but nothing had touched me and I was relatively sure I was free from danger.

On the other side of the wall I heard what sounded like chaos - her screaming, items being thrown, banging on the walls and doors. At one point, I think I heard her crying and saying that one of the ghosts was raping her.

I was powerless. It was up to her to keep her ghosts at bay. She hadn't shown them the respect that they wanted. If I went to help her, it would have been the two of us to die. No amount of outside effort could save her.

You're Underpaid, Lady

I found a little calcluator that says ArmyWife should be bringing in six figures for what she does all day ...

Mom Salary Wizard

Wonder if there is a calculator that says how much an unemployed recent graduate should be making for all the "work" done at home all day ...

Make My Sty Go Away!

Ok, I'll admit it ... my bedroom is a complete fucking sty ... the only thing missing is pigs. There are empty boxes, piles of clothes, stacks of books, random collections of stuff ... the list is rediculous, I assure you.

The problem is that I think I'm just too overwhelmed with my own slovenliness to recover from the avalanche this time. Luckily there are no dirty dishes or things for actual animals to eat, or I'd be in real trouble.

I'm finally willing to pay whomever wishes to become the paid victim of this chaos that cleans it up. It will have to be a hefty pricetag, I'm sure. But I can live on credit for a while if I have to ... right?

Boobs & Booze

Too often in my life I have let two things be a monumental distraction and get in the way of what I know is good for me - Boobs & Booze ...

I'm sure some of you guys out there are nodding in agreement. You've been there too? *shaking head* I don't think so.

I'm not referring to the bouncy, perky, sweater pillows that you guys thinkg I'm talking about. I'm referring to the selfish, lazy, TV watchers of the male gender that some of you may very well have been at some point in your life.

Whether it was because I was tired from a long night of drinking or because some boy didn't want to wait on me to go to sleep, I can recall many an occasion where I didn't wash my face at night, or apply moisturizer, or floss, or take a vitamin, etc.

But I'm trying to turn that around these days. I've got myself a tastey mouthwash, pretty smelling lotion, and a lovely soothing moisturizer that are becoming loyal and relaxing bedtime companions.

Now if only I could find a way to get a pedicure and manicure just before bed once a week ...

Wicked Storms

I've been in a lot of places that experience good ol' thunderstorms ... the Central Plains, the Pacific Northwest, Florida ... but last night here in DC was perhaps the most wicked thunderstorm I've ever seen.

It was too loud to sleep through so I laid in bed reading as it pounded away outside. The lightening kept my room lit for hours and the thunder cracked so strongly that it shook the walls of my condo.

Surprisingly though, we never lost power and I didn't see any damage in my neighborhood this morning.

Guess nature is just funny that way.

Ice Cream Is A Meal

I don't care what you say, it is. And it is a perfectly reasonable meal after the time I've been having.

First I had a fitful sleep because of some crazy dream about a talking dog. The thing looked like a stuffed animal my grandmother had, but it was real. It died and I left it in the bathroom. I knew it was there, but I didn't do anything with it ... after all, it wasn't going anywhere, right? Wrong. Turns out it wasn't really dead. It started talking to me, telling me that it wasn't dead but horribly sick instead. But I couldn't find a way to get it to the vet, so I woke up in a panic about how it would be all my fault this dog died.

Solution: Ice cream for breakfast.

I discover my newest piece of artwork is warped and has to be weighed down to flatten, so there goes my plan for hanging that today. Grrr.

Then I decide to finally put together the awesome pub table I bought a couple months back. Which means taking apart the old one my roommate had a fit about me wanting to get rid of. Well, if I just take it apart, he can't be mad. It ended up coming apart quite easily, much to my surprise. But not without smacking my head on the hanging light above it and almost knocking myself out.

I think I inflicted some drain bramage though because following that, I voluntarily mopped the kitchen. Not swiffer mopped or some half-assed shit either ... I full on mopped with a real mop and then got down on the floor to use a rag on the floor. I've never mopped a thing in my life. I'm either missing brain cells or I really need a job.

So, thinking that my day was beginning to go well, I started in on the new table. The table itself went together in a flash, super easy. Rock on, maybe today won't suck so much after all.

But sometimes we realize, we jinx ourselves, even in thought.

I hit my head on the damn light fixture, almost breaking it, another two or three times ... I'm not really sure, but I think the number line got knocked right out of my head. 1+1 = 9, right? Right? Oh, I can't hear the answer anyway, the headache is too distracting.

But I was determined to get the four stools put together. And therein lies my mistake. On the first stool, I put the crossbar into one side of the base, laid it down and attempted to put the other side of the base on. And the stupid end of the crossbar snapped off inside the base piece. SON.OF.A...

That was the end of the line for me.

Solution: Ice cream for lunch.

I told you it was a reasonable meal ...

Audiences

For the last couple of days I have been emailing with someone I have come to discover is a nearly daily reader ... and I had no idea ...

My first reaction was to feel like a total schmuck, completely out of touch with who on earth the reading audience really is.

Until it hit me ... literally hit me ... (I was still in the throws of pain from having hit my knee on the desk when I realized) ... emailing and being friends with readers is cool, but writing without knowing my audience means I really am not writing for an audience. Unless, of course, I'm writing for an imagined audience ... which may or may not actually read me ... but I digress ...

My point was, perhaps not knowing my audience doesn't make me such a horrible ogre* after all, just someone blogging for what blogging is about.

*(no offense Ogre, I meant the other kind ... that bad kind ... not the you kind, or the Shrek kind ... )

F U Monster

I've set up a little search agent with Monster.com that is supposed to e-mail me with jobs I might be interested in. So, I open my email this morning and find one from them. I think to myself, "Cool. Maybe today I'll find something more than I did yesterday." It is a service that would be really helpful to job seekers ...

... if the information were timely!

The email this morning told me all about a two day job fair, that ended yesterday.

Thanks a lot, Dickwads. You were a huge help on that one.

Better Late Than Never

But damn I wish I had found this song a few relationships ago ...

"Before He Cheats"

Right now he's probably slow dancing with a bleach blonde tramp,
and she's probably getting frisky...
right now, he's probably buying her some fruity little drink cause she can't shoot whiskey...

Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool-stick, showing her how to shoot a combo...

And he don't know...

That I dug my key into the side of his pretty little suped up 4 wheel drive,
carved my name into his leather seat...
I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights,
slashed a hole in all 4 tires...

And maybe next time he'll think before he cheats.

Right now, she's probably up singing some
white-trash version of Shania karaoke..
Right now, she's probably saying "I'm drunk"
and he's a thinking that he's gonna get lucky,
Right now, he's probably dabbing on 3 dollars worth of that bathroom polo...
And he don't know...

That I dug my key into the side of his pretty little suped up 4 wheel drive,
carved my name into his leather seat,
I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights,
slashed a hole in all 4 tires...

And maybe next time he'll think before he cheats.

I might saved a little trouble for the next girl,
Cause the next time that he cheats...

Oh, you know it won't be on me!

Ohh... not on me...
Cause I dug my key into the side of his pretty little suped up 4 wheel drive,
carved my name into his leather seat...
I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights,
slashed a hole in all 4 tires...

Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats.

Ohh.. Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats...

Ohh... before he cheats...

Lyrics Worth a Date?

In a blatant cry for help to boost my spirits ... and since music is such an effective form of communication with my heart ... I'm posing an application to date me, of sorts ...

I'm asking readers - men and women alike - to leave a comment with the song lyrics they'd play for me in their version of a standing outside my window Say Anything moment. Or perhaps the lyrics they'd play mid-relationship as a reminder to me. Maybe just some sweet and touching words.

I'm constantly hearing lyrics that I wish were words said by someone that mattered ... so here's your chance to make a sad girl smile ...

But Inhumanity is SO Yummy!

Whole Foods Markets Inc has decided to "stop selling live lobsters and crabs on the grounds that it's inhumane."

Animal rights activities were thrilled with the decision, not just because of the way lobsters are harvested, shipped and stored but because of the fate that awaits many of them — being dropped alive into a pot of boiling water.

You have got to be kidding me ...

Have we really carried things this far? Are animal rights activists going to eventually win against cattle farmers too? Because you know, they are killed while they're still alive and all ...

And what about this evidence:

...lobsters can shed a claw that's stuck between two rocks and move on like nothing happened, said Diane Cowan, a marine biologist who studies lobster behavior in Maine

Whole Foods can do what it wants ... its not like they get much of my business anyway ... but those animal rights yahoos better keep their mitts off the rest of the lobster or someone is going to be sorry.

Enter Rat Tribble, Stage Left

After what was relayed as a night of one too many ... my dad is now the proud owner of a "cute," young, expensive purse dog. Yes, a purse dog.

A PURSE DOG... A 10 week old Yorkie to be specific ...

I'd feel sorry for him and shake my head in sympathy for the poor bastard, except he did this to his own damn self. I don't think the wicked step-mother knew it was happening or was even there to directly influence him. There's just no poor bastard about it at that point.

And to top it off, not one person in my family likes yappy dogs.

I think we're all starting to lose just a little bit of respect for the man we believed him to be ... I mean, come on ... this is worse than getting a cat ...

I Think I Wracked A Nerve

I've gotten what could hardly be called a good night's sleep over the past two days. I couldn't fall asleep and I woke the instant the sun rose. This morning, getting back to sleep was literally impossible.

I had important places to be ...

Seems some HR people (as unexpected as these particular ones were) finally wiped the sleep from their eyes and noticed the fine specimen of an employee I would make.

... AND ...

I rocked the interview :-)

If all goes well should find myself employed sometime in the somewhat distant future. (A prospect that does not account for the less distant future of ...uh... next week? next month?)

But I just can't stop singing to myself:

it’s undeniable how brilliant you are
in an unreliable world you shine like a star
it’s unforgettable now that we've come this far
it’s unmistakable that you’re undeniable

Neglect & Disappointment

As the blog so clearly shows, a lot of things I care about have fallen victim to neglect these past weeks. More realistically, over the last month or so. I have been so consumed in personal frustration that I have lost touch with everything and everyone that makes me happy and keeps me sane.

My house has never before been such a disorganized terrible mass of chaos - none of the times I have moved can even approach this level of discord.

I have left many blog friends hanging in the ether of webspace without contact for months. Unbeknownst to them, they are often in my thoughts ... but my fingers never quite manage to communicate those thoughts in their direction.

Phone call after e-mail from family and friends go unanswered. None of them needs to take the neglect personally, but several if not many of them have. It is a growing mess I can't bring myself to clean up.

Graduation and my trip to NYC were a believable excuse for a while, but their effects have been much longer lasting ... and somewhat more detrimental...

In true mid-20s fashion, the dysfunction between my family and me is rampant, if not unbearable at times. During the later part of May, I saw all their worst qualities...

My brother, the epitome of insecurity and weakness, lashing out in anger at the hint of a challenge ... walking around on a pedestal of his own making, yet relying on the fragile world he created to validate the existence of his pedestal.

My father, second only to my brother in weakness of character, just broke my heart. Our communications have grown superficial at best. The belief that follow through or support will come from his direction is gone.

Spending two weeks with my mother almost destroyed any relationship we managed to build over the last 5 years. I saw in her the worst kind of selfishness and self-interest ... a fundamental lack of respect for others and an inability to understand the impact of her actions.

And before people go pointing fingers about being ungrateful for the money spent on my education ... I am thankful that my parents paid for college and helped me in part with graduate school ... but we all know the cliché, "money can't buy you love." Instead, I'd like to ask, where was the attempt to understand what I study, or why I studied it? I am the single, sole departure from medicine. Where is the curiosity about how I developed such a different passion? No one asks how I walked away from my previous passion so easily? Money will never answer those questions for me and could never keep me from asking them.

I suppose I am as lost and frustrated as you're supposed to be in your 20s, but when it comes to "finding myself" I believe I'm well found. I know what I believe in and I know why. I know where I want to go and I have learned many of the painful and necessary lessons from where I've been. I know that there is a world out there larger than myself, one that will keep spinning even if I fall off, that can still be influenced if I put my heart into making it a better place.

But when I am as secure as I about myself as I am, yet still find such little emotional support from my family - the people that are supposed to be your cheerleaders because they love you that much - how am I supposed to have faith that I will find it anywhere else in the world? How am I to believe that our society as a whole isn't made up of hopeless, weak, self-interested characters? Who else will do the right thing even when they must do it alone?

Impersonal Gifts

I'm sure other people would love to have this problem but ...

I'm so sick of getting money and gifts cards as presents.

Between graduation and my birthday I've gotten far fewer gifts than monetary donations. Don't get me wrong, I'm not turning down anyone's money ... but from some people, I just expect more.

Dad? Amex Gift Cheques. I thought better of him than that ...

Ex's parents? A personal check. Makes sense ... we don't interact much anymore.

Lil Bro? Amazon Gift Code. Seriously? The store that markets itself as having everything? Really?

Cousin I've never met? B&N Gift card. Thanks for thinking of me ... books are always nifty.

So I'm frustrated on two levels:
1. The people that should know me well enough to at least pick a particular store to get a gift card from are the people that go just one step past sending me cash. How much forethought and planning did that require? Just exactly how impersonal were you trying to be?

2. I hate Amazon. They may have a website with everything under the sun but I can't ever find what I want actually IN STOCK! Plus, I have issues with not being able to touch certain things. For example, if I go buy myself a stand mixer like I've been wanting, I want to know what the finish on it feels like. It matters. I want to know before hand how hard getting caked on flour is going to be. AND, if I go out and find in a brick and mortar store what I want, I have to go home and pay shipping on it instead of being able to buy it right there and taking it home.

Grrr ...

HEED THE OMEN

Tomorrow is my birthday ...