the difference between shooting stars & satellites

Inspiration: Yes I Can

2009-02-23T23:02:00.000-08:00

Ryan has inspired me.
I am not resistant to change.
I am desperate for motivation.
I have moved DBS3 in an overnight- fly- by- the- seat- of- your- pants kind of transtionarialistic demonstration.
For the time being, until I have the time to really get the redirect done, You can find DBS³ over here... at

thedbs3.wordpress.com

I'm a follower.
And Ryan, being my Blogfather, I must follow him and his lead.
Fare Thee Well, Blogger.
Fare Thee Well.

The Universe Makes Much More Sense

2009-02-21T18:48:00.000-08:00

Today while I was at school, I thought of a good blog. This matters because, as you can very well see, I've no time to blog these days. I'm only doing it now because Ezra is cleaning the kitchen and sometimes that's a hard thing to help with.... No... seriously... Its hard to clean someones kitchen along with them. Doing individual tasks together works... like... I'll wash, you dry and put away. But just... just going to it... that doesn't work.

So here I sit.... alone in his room listening to J. Tillman and allowing him to break my heart in a beautiful kind of way that makes me the happiest little nubbin in the world. Trying to remember the blog I had. But alas, as you could have probably guessed, I can't remember it.

Last weekend we ventured to ~~Heaven on Earth~~ Powell's and I was trying to decide on whether or not I should get a new Braughtigan book or a nerdy anthropology book. E told me that I decided I should get (yeah... you read that correctly. He's really demanding and overbearing like that *shakes head 'no'*) the nerdy anthropology book, so I did. The Long Summer: How Climate Changed Civilization. I mean c'mon. Are you really surprised. I haven't had a lot of time to read it too far into it yet, but its soooo good. Very rarely do you find a book like this by an author who can actually write. First few sentences?

A wind of Force 9 is a strong gale and it makes a sailboat's rigging shriek unrelentingly. I huddled in the shelter of the cabin house, bracing my feet against the cockpit seat, safety line securely fastened. We lay hove-to in the Bay of Biscay under heavily reefed mainsail and a tiny storm jib, and had been so for twenty-four hours, our small boat rising and falling effortlessly in the mountainous swells.

(I have since changed my music and am now listening to Portugal The Man, if you'd like to follow along). Mr Brian Fagan has turned a seemingly drab topic (that I think is completely interesting and I wish I could be unemployed so that I could just read all day) into totally interesting and wonderful and if I could, I would put it in a juicer, add some more fruits for... you know.... consistency and a little bit of flavor, and I would drink his sweet sweet juice for breakfast.
...
...
...
...
wait.
...
...
...
yeah. no. that's what I mean.

Let The Good Times Roll

2009-02-16T19:07:00.000-08:00

Well kids: There she is. That's my board. We went browsing on Sunday (ps: Sundays are the new Saturdays which were, for a short while, the New Sunday) and I saw it in person. I've been meditating on its online pic for a while and... seeing it in person? Love at First Real Sight. I'm actually doing my taxes tonight so that we can get our boards quite soon.
Quite soon indeed.
Then, we'll strap on our cool bags, hit up Zoops or TJs for some snacks and lunch, and then board to a park somewhere, make out, grub, make out a little more, read some books, make out, and then board home.
Gad, its going to be a good summer.

My First Time

2009-02-14T12:36:00.000-08:00

Can you believe that I've never had fresh mango before? Well its true. Well, it was true until earlier this morning. I had my last shift at the salon (since I have a full time job, I'm not really available to cover shifts that pay me less) and the owner had 2 mangoes on the counter and asked me to cut them up for her so she could eat them throughout the day.

In my head, I said "Bitch... you are not paying me to be your chef. Cut them up yourself." But I'm a good kid so I didn't say that. I just did it.

And then I ate some of it.

And it was good.

And I don't say that in review of the flavor of the mango. That is actually a *nod* to biblical type crap.

Cause it was that good.

I may go buy a mango on my way home.

and please know that tomorrow, we are going to look at boards. I'm redonkulously excited about this.

... I Was Just Watching Cops....

2009-02-11T00:32:00.000-08:00

Remember that time I said I was going to learn how to longboard and then I never did?

Well. I'm telling you again only this time, I've someone to back it up with. E and I were looking at longboards over the weekend.... and I think it may happen this time.

I even found the deck that I want.... its very Audrey Kawasaki (even though its not) and.... I'm diggin it.

Something I'm not digging: waiting until 10:00 to do laundry.

I'm tired and I want to go to bed, but I can't because my clothes are in the dryer.

Vacation: Had To Get Away

2009-02-09T18:51:00.000-08:00

I'm always game for good titles. The title to the page where I got that pic of the buffalo and the Tetons? Well.... the pic was taken by one Tom Bishop. His page name: Sonuvabish.com. Brilliant.

Not sure if you've been keeping up, but last week sucked. Balls. Ooohh.... Last Week made it so dry for me.... like a desert in Last Week's mouth. Last Week even did that horrible hand thing. It was the opposite of what is good. Like a mouth full of sand.

By Friday afternoon, I was ready for a break. So I took one. I didn't go to school and I came home, took a bath, and watched Wizard Of Oz. Its amazing how that movie actually cheers me up. I danced and sang with the Scarecrow (aww... remember Diddy/ Dawson? He was a Scarecrow once...) and I was then a little better. I still needed a vacation though.

At some point in the week, I had told Ezra that I really wish I had time for yoga cause I think it would really help me relax right now. But alas, I haven't time for anything these days. That night, Tabitha sent me-- without her knowing that I wished that I had time for yoga, a yoga video from a group that does their thing in Jackson. Tetons.

The next morning, Ezra and I had breakfast and on my way in downtown, I got stuck behind a Subaru with a Wyoming bumper sticker. They also had a little Yellowstone sticker. And Teton County, Idaho plates. Those Teton County-ans don't make it up here to Portland all that often.
But that day, I saw 4 separate Teton County license plates. Seriously.

"Those are quite a few signs..." Ezra pointed out. "What are you going to do?"
"Absolutely nothing. I can't do anything about it. No money and no time for a vacation. It really sucks."
So instead, we walked around, watched movies, napped, did all the things that one can do to make it a fake vacation weekend.

and it was good.

Week. From. Hell.

2009-02-05T19:59:00.000-08:00

And that week has been packed into a tight little package of just 2 days.

I don't know if you remember, but I've been having trouble with the truck. It won't start. A few months back, I left the interior light on and so I figured it was the battery that I haven't changed in roughly ever. I've had the truck for 5 years and I've never changed the battery. Makes sense. Though it was having trouble starting, it was still starting.
Until Tuesday night.

Tuesday night after school, Lee and I were sitting there and we had to get a jump because it just wouldn't start. It would click but nothing more. Nothing more, nothing less. Thankfully, Ezra lives at the top of a hill so I got to demonstrate my kick ass push start skills. I wasn't entirely sure how I was going to get the truck started after work, but I knew that I prolly wouldn't be able to wait until the weekend to get that battery that I had planned for Saturday after school.
Oh.
Wait.
I have $5 to my name that has to go in my gas tank so I can get to work.
Mike bailed me out by going above and beyond my joke of "You could fix my day if you had a battery lying around your office."
The bastard bought my battery so I could go pick it up after work.
Here's where it gets exciting.

I knew the truck wouldn't start after work, but I tried anyways. I went back and got a co-worker to give me a jump. I've always been nervous about doing jumper cables on my own and I typically get jumped by guys (waaah wahhh) so I've never actually had to do it. But seriously? How hard/ dangerous could it be? Black goes to black and red goes to red, right?
I put the clampy things on my battery.
I clamped the clampy thing on the red terminal.
I clamped the clampy thing on the black terminal.
SPARKS!
Now.... I've seen sparks on jumps before. So, naturally, I manned up and shoved that puppy on there.
SMOKE! FLAMES! SPARKS! MORE FLAMES! MORE SMOKE!
I started jumping around in the middle of Ankeny: "ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod! why is it smoking!!!!!"
I ran down the block to a guy who was getting out of his truck.
"I'm sorry.... I can see that you're busy," his hands were fully of grocery bags. "But my friend and I are trying to get my truck jumped and we're having some trouble.... could you by any chance give us a hand?"
He agreed.
While we were waiting for him, Jessica and I stood and waited. I knew that if we got one of the cables off, we would be fine. I also knew that we were dealing with electricity.
Don't Touch Electricity. It Burns Like Fuck.
So what did I do? I grabbed a hemp wedge heel from my back seat. Threw it at the cables.
That's right. I threw a heel at a flaming jumper cable. You know what it did? It started sparking and caught on fire.
Shit.
So he comes up and looks at the cables very quietly and very... slowly.
He inspected the scene. He very patiently walked to my cables, unlatched one.
Unlatched the other.
Took them off Jessica's car.

I put my jumper cables on wrong. The totally independent girl who changes her own oil and doesn't need anyone, put her jumper cables on wrong and then tried to throw a marijuana wedge heel at them.

So because of this, it took longer than expected to get my truck started. I had to be to Napa 5 blocks away by 6:00. It was very nearly 6 by the time it was started. So I hauled down to Morrison (or where I thought Morrison should be)(turns out I knew where it was) and got to Napa at 5:50.
With no tools.
I had to go to Mike's cause he had tools. He bailed me out YET AGAIN by being All Man Status and changing the battery for me while I talked to his Smit (that's Rose)(cause he's Smitten? Get it?). We celebrated with Scott Pilgrim comics (it came out yesterday)(FOIL COVER!) and "Ice Cream".

With new battery attached, I felt pretty good.
That was short lived because when I went home to get my things to stay at E's tonight, the truck wouldn't start.
Turns out it wasn't the battery.
Next step: alternator.
Shit.

Today, I got paid. I've been prepared to pay my rent (finally), get gas, and pay the $75 required to get me fingerprinted because I HAVE to do it tomorrow so it can be to Salem by the 11th or I lose my job.
That's right.
I lose my job.
So, perhaps I figured wrong, but 80 hours plus a tiny insignificant amount of time and a half overtime multiplied by the $10 an hour that I make means that before taxes, I've got $800. I bumped that down so I should get about $700 after them therr taxes.
Nope. Wrong again.
They took out almost $200. I BARELY got what I need for rent.
Suck.
Suck so very very hard.
Thankfully, E gets paid tomorrow and he's going to loan me the money to keep my job, I work on Balentimes day so I'll get a bit of cash, and then I get paid for real again on the 20th.
Gad, why can't it all just end.
I mean... seriously. I have a job that I love, I'm hopelessly in love and twitterpated with Ezra, and I'm out of the classroom and strictly doing appointments at school. Life should be good, right?
Instead, I'm here in my sweats drinking tea blogging on Ezra's computer listening to Live Bjork while he's in the living room with Anders and his Special Lady.
*sigh*
This is my life.

Poached But Not Gone. Or Forgotten.

2009-02-04T21:51:00.000-08:00

When I say "Go" you say "Fight"!
I got harassed earlier because apparently me having several lives (like... social, work, romantic) means that I don't blog every day.
Some of you are bummed about that.
Most of you are not.
So here, in place of some poorly thought out post about some well thought out plan, I give you something I poached from a blog that I've meant to keep up with, but have not.

1. Unwanted :: facial hair
2. You’d better :: chill out with that shit cause I am NOT down.
3. Woman :: buh buhm buh bum you'll be a womaaaan sooooon. (i know its girl, but these are my thoughts, not yours....)
4. Weighed :: a 5lb bag of potatoes
5. Upright :: you can't sit her upright if she can't get in that position by herself. Even if that IS the only position she can be in so that she's not screaming and throwing her body all over the floor.
6. I feel :: so tired and it will be good to sleep in my bed but i wish i weren't alone.
7. Ill :: nana
8. It’s like :: totally, right?
9. Poor man :: i don't like to name names.
10. Great :: Wall and Shitty Wok take out

So there you have your blog. Perhaps one of these nights I'll actually post something.
Maybe.

Il Nana

2009-02-01T23:20:00.000-08:00

Maybe this is too much information, but.... I volunteered for a Brazilian wax at school. The way I see it is this: It will be free (typically they're like.... $60+) and... well... it'll be free. Its one of those things that I've been curious about like.... does it really hurt that bad? As it turns out, the price you must pay to see my Lady Bits is nothing.
or $25,000. Depends on how you look at it.
Anyway, the plan for Saturday was as follows:
8:30 am- get started on wax
10:30- finish up wax and then go on first break )
10:50am- start on practicals (finals for us booty school girls) until the end of the day.
Seemed pretty easy and basic.
I was pretty nervous the day before. I was not only going to have my instructor ripping hair from my Secret Places, but there were going to be girls in there that I only knew in passing. And my school wife. That's a little awkward.
So we get ready and everyone keeps their distance. One girl who is almost always interested in what is going on and asks questions in a very genuine way was sitting in the... um... prime location and she would periodically stand up and move a tiny bit closer, but then would go back to her seat. I tried very hard to not be nervous. I made jokes and laughed here and there, but... I was still nervous. Finally, I said "Ok guys. I'm warmed up. If you need to get closer to see, go ahead. I don't mind." 4 girls immediately stood up and got closer.
It was surprisingly not strange.
So everything went according to plan until someone commented that it was 11:00. And we were about 1/3 of the way done. We decided to just power thru until lunch. By lunch time, at noon, we were roughly 1/2 way done. My instructor said "We'll just stop here and finish up after break so I don't have to stop and explain, I can just get it taken care of."
So while in the lunch room, Becka comes up to me and whispers "When you're done eating, come in and we'll get that done."
This time was totally different. It was me, instructor, Andrea (from the previous post) LeeAndra, and another girl that I didn't really know. At different points in time, I was talking on the phone, laughing at stories, carrying on full conversations, holding Andrea's hand while she stood over me, texting Ezra, had Andrea drawing on my stomach, and drinking a latte. All the while, I'm getting hair torn from my body.
Turns out its not that bad. But we didn't get done until 3:30.
Do the math.
When we were done with my bagina, we took our written test and then Becka gave us permission to "play around" with the wax. Now.... its not a good idea to wax mucus membranes. They're sensitive and its just not a good idea. But we have a video that shows us how to wax nostrils.
And I was, once again, curious.
So the 4 of us rimmed our nostrils with wax.
We let it set.
We flicked our tabs.
We pulled each other's nose hairs out with wax.
Now.... I'm not sure what Ben was doing when he waxed his nostrils, but I can tell you here and now, I didn't feel a thing. Yes, tweezing a single hair hurts like a mother fucker, but waxing the entire thing.... can't even tell. My eyes hardly even watered.
So there you have it.
I am relatively hair free in some rather unexpected places. I have actually really enjoyed my esthetics class. Nails... meh. Not so much. But esthetics was great.
Segue:

STARTING WEDNESDAY,

I WILL OFFICIALLY BE DONE WITH CLASSES

AND I WILL BE ON THE FLOOR

DOING APPOINTMENTS.

THIS MEANS

I CAN

CUT YOUR HAIR,

COLOR YOUR HAIR,

DO YOUR MAKE UP,

WAX SEVERAL BODY PARTS (THOUGH NOT THE TWO THAT I JUST MENTIONED HERE),

GIVE YOU A FACIAL,

A MANICURE,

A PEDICURE,

A FULL SET OF NAILS,

AND QUITE A FEW OTHER THINGS.

CALL ME,

E-MAIL ME,

WHATEVER.

JUST COME IN AND GET STUFF DONE

SO I DON'T HAVE TO WORK ON

THE SKEEZY HOMELESS GUYS.

PLEASE.

The Switchup

2009-02-01T11:41:00.000-08:00

Andrea is Beautiful. She's just... beautiful. Not just in the Tall Tanned Volleyball Player Type of way, but... like... in the way that after meeting LeeAndra's daughter just once, she bought her a Dora The Explorer book because she saw it and thought of Esperanza. She and I hadn't been friends for very long and when I first got into the whole situation of not working, she would ask me how I was doing every day and kept telling me that if I needed anything that she would help me however she could.

Andrea is an amazing, beautiful woman and if you were more like her, this crazy world that we live in would stand a chance (and if she's reading this right now, she's getting all blushy and saying "TAKE THIS DOWN IMMEDIATELY!" But I won't. I won't.)

As you damn well know, I'm a fan of being honest and positive. There's always a way. Don't be so negative, Nelly! Just don't! Turn that frown upside down and all that bullshit. Its hard to hear people talk negatively about themselves. I don't expect everyone to be all secure and in love with their reflection, but..... there are ways around it.

Poor Andrea has a way of putting herself down. Not in a woe is me kind of way, but in.... for example, a few weeks back when we were learning pedicures, she said "I hate my feet. They're so ugly." Andrea's feet are perfectly fine. I demanded that she give herself 3 Put Ups immediately.

"Wha??" She asked.

"Three put ups. Just like when you say something mean about someone, you have to say three nice things about that person to make up for it. You said something mean about yourself so now you have to say 3 things that you like about your self."

She was not very pleased about this, but we sat and waited. I'm glad I had the (small) classroom's support on this one....

"I can't think of 3 things...."

"Ok... then just one. One thing you like about yourself."

She sat and thought and finally, I said "Ok. You think about it and before you go to bed tonight, you think of something and text me.

She never did.

But a few days later, we were talking and she said that she had thought about it and one thing she likes about herself is that she gives people the benefit of the doubt. She believes in the good in people and that's something she likes about herself.

It warmed my heart that, even though while in class she thought it was silly, she thought about it after we left school. She spent time thinking about things she liked about herself.

We talked a little about our body parts that we don't like.... as you well know, I don't have thin legs. But my legs are strong. Its easy for me to get that little definition on the outside by my knee... I can leg press a freight train.

She agreed the same about hers. She has incredibly long legs and they're muscular and strong (like a volleyball players... see how that comes into play from earlier?!).

Its fine not to like things about yourself, but if you change your negatives in to alternatives, it seems to be a little healthier.

My hips are big, but when I walk, I can swingem like no one's business.

My cupid's bow is incredibly defined, but ... well... I actually like that part.... its different and its.... me.

I don't like my ankles, not because they're thick and they have been sprained so much that the scar tissues gives me kankles, but because it makes it hard for me to wear shoes that go any higher than my little ankle nubbin.

I guess its the difference between "I hate my eyebrows" and "I don't really think my eyebrows are that flattering to my face".

Maybe I'm just being crazy.

Either way, It warmed my heart that Andrea was thinking about what I said after we had parted ways and even a few days later. She's a beautiful girl and there's no reason why she shouldn't think so herself.

Intentional Plans and Future Happenings Here on DBS3

2009-01-31T00:48:00.000-08:00

Two things I intend to blog about tomorrow night when E and I get home:

My volunteering for a Brazilian wax. At school. Performed by my instructor. On my bagina. While people that I only kind of know watch. my bagina.
Sweet sweet Andrea and her Personal Put Downs.

Two things I do not intend to blog about tomorrow night when E and I get home:

I am not going to go into any sort of detail about how freakishly happy and in love I am right now. Like.... for realzies. (and I can smell him on my sweat shirt right now and its making me blush. Yeah. Its like that.)
I will not tell you that I was asked to make my booty clap at school tonight and I did not do it. For everyone to see.

Goodnight.

I'll talk to you tomorrow.

oh.... and another thing....

I love you.

wait... one more thing.....

I also won't be blogging about how a question was FINALLY answered on Lost (why exactly Richard went to Locke's house when he was little and laid those objects in front of him-- and its because Locke told Richard that, if he didn't believe him, he would be born in 2 years and he should go visit him. Also, that young punk is Penny's dad and I think he's trying to find the island so he can get that bomb. but i'm sure its something deeper than that.) and it changed my whole game plan.

Gad I fucking love Lost.

Our Kind of Finally F'real Magic

2009-01-26T22:28:00.000-08:00

Trust is a funny thing with me... I typically trust everyone. And no one. I like to believe that everyone will do the right thing, but I know that they won't. See how complex it is to be me? Knowing that I have this trust issue, I have learned to keep it to myself because no one likes an untrusting friend or girlfriend or family member or.... mirror reflection.

Long ago, I stopped trusting my guys. This was right around the time that Scott sent a letter to Jamie that got sent back wherein he told her he loved her and thought about her all the time. This was also while we were living together. That was the moment I stopped trusting my boyfriends. Very rarely have they disappointed me in that department. I mean... I don't condone snooping. But if I'm really and truly suspicious-- like beyond what my natural crazy says-- and I go lightly looking and I find something? That's when I condone it. I snooped on Seth for a while. I didn't find anything, so I stopped because there was nothing and I was officially just being stupid. But then, farther down the road, Nichole started calling, he told that girl in Texas that he thought about her all the time and loved her (sound familiar) and blah blah blah. Officially didn't trust him at that point.

The EzRoad has been longer than anticipated. It was long. Not really painful, but... arduous, you might say (if you knew the whole story). It has caused me some internal conflict because we have been Just Friends almost the whole time we've known each other. We met in August, dated for all of 10 minutes, and then have been JFs since the middle of October. Only, I've loved him the whole time.

When he smiles, he gets these lines on the sides of his nose that make my heart go pitter patter. I fit quite nicely into his giant spoon. He can wrap his arms around me and make me feel tiny and warm and good. He says "mmmmmm" and closes his eyes when I put my hand on his head. He smells like happy and smiles and clean. I get him and he gets me. He can kiss me on the nose and I don't panic. He can touch the back of my neck and I don't panic.

Because of the back and forth that happened for some time in the beginning, I feel like I shouldn't trust him. Why wouldn't he just do it all over, once again, crushing my poor little heart and making me feel like a foolio? Maybe its because we had those months of being JF (when really we weren't, it turns out, but really we were)(but kind of we weren't). Maybe its because he's proven his honesty over and over again in such impressive ways that I have no choice but to trust him. Maybe its because, even when he is trying to "cover something up", his body language is VERY clear and its not really much of a secret anyways. Ashleigh made some points the other night on the phone and Jess said "I like that you guys are such good friends. that's a real good thing... maybe i believe him."

Ash made excellent points that I can reference any time I start getting cold feet. Jess tells the truth. Always. When something seems not right, she says so. And if they agree that this is right (agree with me, I mean) then I know that I have nothing to worry about. The combination of 3 very important people in my life saying the same thing (independently of each other) gives me an amount of trust that I never thought I would have.

I have this strange... its really a balance.... a balance of Complete Trust, Security, and a Questioning of those two things.

I am in a Strange, Wonderful, Completely Happy place.

Planet DB S3 Heyy.

2009-01-24T18:22:00.000-08:00

...your nose looks like a cat's.

If you don't know about Planet Unicorn, well.... then.... in the words of Marc at school "Learn About It." I love me some Planet Unicorn (Heyy).

But you know what I don't love? Spending frivolously by buying bleach so that you can bleach your white and have them so fresh and so clean. Its how you decided to spoil yourself this paycheck, cause... you know... after being shit faced poor for 6 months, it doesn't take a lot to make a girl feel special.

So (in case you hadn't noticed, this is not a hypothetical situation. It ACTUALLY happened.) (To me.) I got home tonight totally stoked to get my whites together and separate my darks and get my towels together and then..... WASH EM (like I said.... I'm easy) (but not slutty) (anymore). I start with the whites: Go Hard, Or Go Home. Its kind of my motto. And since I was already home, I had to go hard.

White Hard.

So I'm gathering in my Careful You Don't Drown The Baby plastic tub/ laundry basket, completely excited to get these socks and these cami's bleached the flark out.
Now I just have to boring ol' Wash Laundry. Lame. Don't get me wrong, I totally bleached (and basically wasted $1.25) those whites, but..... its just not the same.

In angry retaliation, I'm going to go put an aggressive exfoliant on my lips because they're so dry that it looks like I'm wearing lipstick. They're THAT red. I mean.... Its a cut4e look and all, but they feel like... like.... they feel like those trees that live on Troll Baby Tears.

Its just not the same.

(see how I tied it all in there? its why I have a blog, really)

NOT PENNY'S BLOG!!!!!

2009-01-21T19:16:00.000-08:00

Tonight is a monumental night. Last night was just kind of... Pfft. Whatever... but tonight.... TONIGHT is the night that magic comes back into my life. Tonight-- for One Night Only (and that night being a Wednesday night)(yeah, I'm skipping school to watch Lost) these rules apply to Wednesday night. Other times during the regular season, I will cut you some slack because I could be watching my missed episode at anytime. REGARDLESS (quit using that word. its starting to get really...... rude), these are the rules for Lost Viewing Nights (just in case you've forgotten)

Don't call me. If you call me, I will not answer, but I will log your name in my folder where I keep my Death Notes. And I'm not talking about the animated adventures.
Don't come over. In order to come over, unless someone breaks the rules and lets you in the building, you will have to call me. Please see above.
You know what.... Don't contact me in any way unless its a real emergency. And even then, I will quickly assess your need in combination with what I'm willing to miss and react accordingly.
If, under some strange set of circumstances, I feel that you are ready to watch Lost with me-- lets say I just got paid and I would like to celebrate said paycheck and Lost by inviting you to my house to watch on the rare night that I am willing to drive you to my house and then take you home because I thought it would be a nice change of pace-- Please don't talk to me. If you haven't been watching the series, Please bring a note pad and a pen so that you may write your questions down. We may discuss these questions during the commercial break, but do not expect me to continue when the commercial break is over.
If you receive a phone call during Lost, please take it in the other room.
IF YOU LIVE ON THE EAST COAST... SAY IN RHODE ISLAND... YOU MAY TEASE ME A LITTLE BIT AT 5:00 WHEN I STILL HAVE 1/2 AN HOUR OF WORK LEFT BY SAYING "ITS STARTING" BUT THEN.... WHEN ITS OVER.... DON'T YOU DARE SAY "MINDFUCK!!!" BECAUSE I WILL MOST LIKELY ATTEMPT TO DE-FRIEND YOU ON ANY SOCIAL NETWORK IN WHICH WE ARE ACQUAINTED BUT SOMETHING WILL GO WRONG AND I WILL NOT BE ALLOWED. PERHAPS KARMA IS A NICE LADY.
AFTER YOU TELL ME THAT BAD WORD UP THERE, DON'T ASK ME IF I'M WATCHING IT YET WHEN ITS ONLY 7:00 BECAUSE I WILL TURN OFF MY PHONE AND THAT'S GOING TO INTERFERE WITH THE FIRST AND SECOND RULES.

So there you have it. If you just observe these simple rules, we can still be friends and we can grow old together. Good night. I'll see you when its all over.

Follow Me (Don't Follow Me)

2009-01-20T22:49:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wish I had named Akira "Crush".... but then everyone would think of the turtle from Nemo when really it was the orange soda/ REM song. But nah.... Akira is fine. Its a good name.
Anyways, Crush.
Crushes.
They're lame and they make everything stupid and complex and not complex but completely easy and wonderful but at the same time...... stupid.
But then they're not.

I think Akira just got Booty Sweat on my pants.
Can cats drink Booty Sweat? I know they can't eat a Bust A Nut because I think they have chocolate in .....
what am I even talking about.
I'm so tired and its only Monday.
but lost is on tomorrow. And I fully plan to give you a Super Secret Rundown and Review (or SSRR)(or S²R²) (and now that I've found the code for that, I can now actually type DBS³ the way its meant to be typed.

I may be making money and I may be able to eat food that's not rice now, but I fear my blogging will take a serious hit. I just need to get into the rhythm of things.
I wish "rhythm" had a better vowel than "y" in it.
But seriously. I think Akira got her Booty Sweat on me.
Sick.

(post post: see? i'm so tired that i didn't realize until my already posted proof-read [yes, i proof read more than once. and see? its a good thing, too!] that its not actually Monday. Its tuesday. and in one hour it will be Wednesday.)

(and Lost will be on.)

post post post: wait...... i'm a little rusty on my math. does (SR)² = S²R²? I can't remember if the exponent gets distributed like that or not... I believe it does because the in the order of Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally.... Oh... no.

See?

There it is.

Parenthesis first. That means that I would multiply SR first and then do the exponents. See? Parenthesis, Exponents, Multiply, Divide, Add, Subtract. BUT because of the distributive law of multiplication, they are the same, so it doesn't matter what order you do it in. I could do (SR) first and then square it, or I could square them individually and then multiply the products.

BOOYA FOR TAKING ALGERBRA MORE THAN ~~ONCE~~ ~~TWICE~~ THREE TIMES! (PS: Screw you "Spirit Of Mathematics/ Math 123".)

Things I Learn From Jones

2009-01-18T19:46:00.000-08:00

Arwen: *gets a text* I'll bet this is LeeAndra asking when she can come over today.

Jones: I'll bet it is. What does it say?

A: It says "Wat up thug?? U still want me to brng ur books? :)" She's so gangsta.

J: Haha... no Arwen..... She's not gangsta

A: No! Its true! LeeAndra is Very gangsta!

J: Gangsta is a funny word.

*pause*

Gangsta is a country.

A: Gangsta is a country? Where is it?

J: Its in Africa.

A: Ooooh... right. By Kenya. And Chad.

J: Yeah. Gangsta is in Africa by Kenya and Chad.

**End Scene**

*****Earlier In The Day*****

Arwen: Hey Jones... when you're feeling better, can I buy you a canvas and have you paint a picture for my house?

Jones: I sure can!

I'm glad he's better.

Sad Days

2009-01-17T18:59:00.000-08:00

Only two? Seriously you guys? Seriously? Booooooring. I mean... the two of you who said "Do Me... Gad Arwen... Do Me...." are cool and all, but.... I'm disappointed in the rest of you.

Mike/ Bucket... here are your questions:

1-- Describe the most disgusting thing you've ever eaten.
2-- If you had to choose between cuddling with an eel or kissing a piranha, which would you choose?
3-- What creeps you out more than anything else?
4-- When honored with something as impressive as an interview by me, where do you go from here? My point is that, once you reach the pinnacle, where do you go then? Do you have any plans?Do you have a therapist? Do you need a tissue?
5-- If you found yourself,entirely by accident, on a nudist beach, would you go native?
BONUS QUESTION
Would you rather fart super loud in public or visibly pee your pants?

Post-post: So it turns out that Mike didn't actually do any research or learn just what being interviewed means, so he is hereby withdrawn from the fun. If you'd like, you can steal his questions and call them your own. I'll even use paint to put you in the picture with me and Drew. Get on it.

and Tabitha, my darling... Here are yours:

1-- When your nose is running and you don't have any tissues, what are you inclined
to do?
2-- Which would you prefer: taking a bath in watermelon juice or taking a shower in tomato juice?
3-- What is your best characteristic?
4-- What one Christmas tradition would you never want to give up?
5-- Which type of natural disaster are you most afraid of?
BONUS QUESTION
Would you rather fart super loud in public or visibly pee your pants?

So there you have it my two darlings. I'll leave this option open because I know that there are more of you out there... you're lurking.... and for Pete's Sake... Mike doesn't even have a functioning blog... so you have no excuse. No excuse what so ever.
Get on it, slackers.

Hopefully X Doesn't Mark The Spot

2009-01-17T11:35:00.000-08:00

I've always wanted freckles. Always. Strawberry Shortcake style.. you know... just a few across my cheeks and nose... the sun kissed kind. I want them so bad, that I've actually toyed with the idea of getting them tattooed on. Seriously.

As far as freckles and moles go, I'm pretty clear of them. I've got my giant freckle party on my jaw that I have a love hate relationship with and one on each arch of my foot (one of which I removed when I was something like 14-- yes... i removed it-- and it left a hole in my foot) and then a few little tiny spots here and there. Sometimes I get them in strange spots. I have a little one on the right side of my bottom lip almost on my lip itself. I have one just below the first crease of my ring finger on my right hand. Just to the right of my left hand's INCREDIBLY SHORT fate line is a tiny, relatively new freckle. These are strange. There shouldn't be freckles there. *Enter something scientific sounding about lacking melanocytes in the palms of the hands and soles of the feet*

All my spots are round. All the same color. Once they're there, they're solid and unchanging so I don't really worry too much about them.

Today, I scratched my ear. I think there was a little pimple on it and... well... gross. While I was putting on my makeup, I twisted my ear to see what it was. There was nothing.

but there was something.

An X shaped mole. Now....... you may remember that an X is not round. You may remember that an X shape is considered irregular. And you may also have noticed that I didn't mention it with my other notable moles meaning that its new. Ears are sensitive. Ears are often missed when that whole protection thing goes down.

I'm always a little paranoid... like.... when I get a migraine, I'm sure its leading to a stroke on the eve of my 28th birthday. When my heart does its lub-dub-luB-DUB-LUbdubLUBDUb-dub thing, I'm sure its a heart attack waiting to happen. But this time.....

This time I'm actually worried because its totally new and......

I'm worried.

Thru The Grapevine

2009-01-14T22:33:00.000-08:00

Do you know Mrs. G? She's great. Go check her and Derfwad Manor out. Thru her FANTASTICALLY GEOGRAPHICALLY ORGANIZED blogroll, I found several local bloggers. Ma Waffle over at Waffles Waffles All Day Long was one of those bloggers. I get some good laughs outta that one (see post about formerly amazingly perfect crush getting sex reassignment. its brief, but wonderful) and sometimes I get a little welling in my heart at the convenience of marriage on New Years Eve.

A few days ago, she linked to New Sidebar Blogger, Jason and his interview post. If you know anything about me, you know that I love a)answering questions b) talking about myself. Ok. B is a joke. But seriously. No one loves me like I love me. NO! Come on guys. I'm trying to be serious. So thru this interview, Lead Blogger (Ma Waffle in this case) gives 5 interview questions to the luckily little blogger (Me) and the rest is history.
She let us choose our questions.
I choose them all.

Are you now or have you ever been psychic? How do you know?
I have never been psychic. I know this because I have never sensed it with my mind's eye. I am, however, intuitive and observant, so you may think I'm psychic, but really, I'm just paying attention.

Would you rather die heroically or cowardly?
I'm not sure anyone would really want to die cowardly. Of course I would like to die heroically if given those options. Saving burning orphans from a crying house... who wouldn't want to be remembered for that sort of thing?

How hard would it be for you to live somewhere without fresh indoor water? Electricity? Plumbing?
I don't think indoor water would be all that bad of a problem, honestly. Someday when I have my tiny little cabin, it prolly won't have indoor water. A little bit of change to eating habits and a good lantern and shot gun for those late night trips and plumbing may not even be an issue. Electricity though..... let me tell you...... the intrawebs don't run on propane, smiles, or cat hair. So I'll have to have electricity. And if I have electricity, I may as well have a bathtub to run hot water into. Which will require both plumbing and fresh indoor water.
Yeah.
I'd be fine.

What is your primary cellphone ringtone?
Touch Me Or I'll Scream pt 2 by My Morning Jacket.

Are you more witty or snarky?
I really hope I've more wit than snark. After my recent experiences with Snark, I know that it is quite often (like.... 98% of the time) hurtful. I don't want to hurt feelers. And wittiness doesn't come at the cost of others, so... that's where I try to live.

Most extreme personal change or changes you've ever made?
For the longest time, I was the most pessimistic/ realistic (because really, its not being Glass Half Empty, its just real life people....) person you would ever meet. When things finally got to the point that they really were that bad and I thought that I might just... accidentally.... end up at the bottom of Hells Canyon in Idaho, I realized that I had better do something. I started taking The Sunshine and forced myself to think against my own grain for my own sanity's sake. Now I have trouble with being a little TOO positive. I'm still realistic, but now its more of a cautious kind of protection realist as opposed to the "Life IS pain, Princess". I've forced myself into a (glorious) pattern of seeing the good in even the worst situations.
Then I got the "I Am All I Have" tattoos.
yeah. real positive, arwen.... reaaaaal positive.

Favorite city you've lived in or want to live in?
I want to live in Jackson so bad I can taste it. I don't know if I want to stay there, but I want to live there for at least a year before I die heroically saving that house from those damn orphans. I've also a strange draw to Colorado.... I say Denver, but everyone I talk to says I'm more Boulder. Meh. I'll prolly just stay in Portland.

Has your life up til now been more blameless or messy? Moving forward from here, which one would you choose?
I think its been pretty blameless. When I look at some people I know, my life has been so amazingly perfect and worry free. My parents did a good job making us real. Even the potentially messy situations that happened... I mean... they were big, but I survived. We all survived. They weren't that bad. Life is good.

Worst kiss (or kiss-like experience)?
I honestly can't remember who it was, but I remember someone being a very messy bad kisser but also a slightly dominating kind of guy and.... I could never get out of his kisses because he would like... corner me into the pillow and suffocate me.
maybe that's why I don't remember who it was....

You HAVE to pick a religion to practice. Evangelical Christian, Zoroastrian, Jainist or Scientologist? (and why?)
weeelllllll.... I suppose it'd be Jainist because its such an individual type of thing... its about potential and personal responsibility. And I'm into that.

The person you are romantically involved with announces they are getting a sex change. Would it change your feelings for them?
It wouldn't. It may change "certain aspects" of our relationship, but it would not change the past or even, really, the person (internal) that I had experienced things with. So though I may no longer be sexually attracted to them, I like to think that my emotional attraction would not change.

Meat helmet or thigh-high golden boots with large wings attached to them?
Is it really even a question? Thigh-High Golden Boots with Large Wings Attached. Duh.

How many times have you been what you consider REALLY in love? Do you still love those people/that person?
Twice. I was really in love with David, even though it was high school love, it was still real to me. And no. I do not love him anymore. I hardly even like him. I actually resent him for, as I see it, taking advantage of the fact that I was in love with him. But we all know that story.
I was definitely in love with Seth. More that I've ever been in love with anyone before in my life. Because of this love that I had for him, I still love him in a way that causes me to hope he's doing well, that he's truly happy, and that he is in a good place... I care because he... he made me feel a way that I didn't think was possible to feel. Someone who does that for a person can't just be thrown away, no matter what insane accusations they stab you with, no matter how many times they didn't stick up for you, and no matter the incredibly and lastingly hurtful things they said causing you to be literally terrified of feeling that kind of love again.

When you die, what do you think happens? Do you hope to be disappointed or somehow wrong about that?
I think when you die, that's it. I don't believe in an afterlife or a higher consciousness or anything like that. I think you heart stops beating, your brain stops working, and all your bodily fluids fall out of your body. I actually hope that I'm right, because if I'm wrong and there is something else, that would also disprove my belief (or lack of) of no God and well... There'd prolly be some butthurt feelings and I'd learn my lesson the hard way.

Do you know your ethnic ancestry? Is that interesting or otherwise important to you?
I know parts of it. I feel like maybe it should be a little more important to me, but it was never really emphasized growing up, so... now its not really that huge. There's far too much debate about who's mother was from where and.... since I know about evolution, I know that we're all from the same place anyways, so.... why does it REALLY matter that my great great great grandpa on my dad's side married the great granddaughter of a member of some Spanish Royal Court who then ran away with a Portuguese pirate and ..... really.... cause where did those Spaniards and them Portuguese come from? Lucy. That's where.
I also think its not important to me because I've seen too many people use it for entitlement purposes. "I was here first" is not really.... it doesn't really matter. I guess its interesting in a cultural perspective, but... I don't feel like it makes me a more complete person to label myself one thing or another.

So that's it.
The option here is for me to "Interview" you.
And I'll totally do it too.
They'll be different questions.
Better answers (I'm very tired).
And always a rockin good time.

Back In Baby's Arms Pants

2009-01-12T21:56:00.000-08:00

Sometime between 1997 and 1999 I bought a pair of khaki pants that I quickly fell in love with. They were a little slouchy, khaki bell bottom Levi's that rested ever so slightly on my young little hips (young little hips that were never all that little). I loved them. They were so comfortable.

At some point in time (around 2002) I was all of a sudden too fat to wear them. They fit me in no way, shape, or form. When I tried to put them on, it was as if my sausage legs had encountered some sort of denim blend casing and I didn't even think about buttoning them. I saved them though. I saved them so hard.

Then I started working at Junkyard Jeans and found out what 646s were all about. I was offered a sizable amount of money (nothing to write home about, but when you pay $7 for a pair of pants and then get offered several times that, its a bit of a deal when you've been buying pants for people and paying them about $3 a pair). I refused to sell them being sure that at some point, I would fit in them again.

Maybe.

But prolly not.

Tonight, while putting away my clean laundry, I saw the pants in the corner of the closet. "Huh. I wonder...." I actually said out loud (I live alone. With my cat. Don't judge me.)
I slipped them on, pausing at my knees... and very slowly over my thighs....
Had I bathed in butter? Vaseline? Virgin Olive Oil?
No. They ACTUALLY fit over my massive thighs.
"There's no way.... " I said (again out loud) (stop judging me with your judging eyes, you judgers). There's no way they're going to button comfortably.
No.
Freaking.
Way.
Let me tell you. I danced. I danced in my fancy pants. I danced so hard in my fancy pants that haven't fit me in forever.

I now can't wait until the spring when it stops raining and I can wear my favorite pants. You make fun me for not wearing them in the rain, but you must understand: they're 35 year old pants... one must be delicate with something like that....

once... i spilled grape juice on them and thought I would never get the stain out, so I let them sit. They sat in their grape juice stain for nearly 3 months. Then... I washed them and they came completely clean.

They're like... Jesus pants or something.....

A Dragon And A Snowman Are Sitting In A Mini-van....

2009-01-12T17:04:00.000-08:00

I've decided that, if I can at all help it, I'm going to be done with banks for a little while. I'm going to see about dealing only in cash. I guess I'll probably have to develop some mob ties and invest in a large wall safe hidden behind a large picture of a yellow flower in a red vase, but those are steps that I'm ready to take.

maybe I shouldn't be posting this on my blog....

Yeah.

Maybe I shouldn't.
I'll just tell you that I'm, once again, re-working my Fiscal Responsibility Status to see what behaviours I can modify in order to be... well.. fiscally responsible. When I was in Moscow, I didn't have a checking account for a long time. This meant I only had an ATM card. It was so inconvenient to get money, that I just hardly ever did it. So my thinking is that if I have a very limited amount of cash on me and I can see that "this money" is going to "this thing", it will be easier for me to ... budget? I don't really feel like I'm budgeting because I don't spend money as it is, but.... you know... if I were to spend money....

So cross your fingers that CR won't use US Bank so that I don't have to have you cash my checks for me. Cause that's lame and I hate doing that.

And none of this is true.
I just made it up. Hullo..... ever heard of fiction?*

*that's a lie. i'm totally serious. be supportive of my change.
its going to be tough.

This Is What I Know About Piracy

2009-01-11T23:16:00.000-08:00

I decided last weekend that it would be my NYR to stop avoiding the family. I'm not really sure what brought it on, but when my aunt called me to tell me about a get together for another aunt, I had every intention of going. Luckily, it was the first one since my decision, so when I didn't show (even though I actually tried), I don't think anyone missed me.

Earlier today, my cousin left me a little myspace message and invited me over for dinner. I went. It was good times. Their son is 4 or 5 and when I walked in, he said "My name is Ethan." as his greeting.

"I know! Do you remember my name?" I knew he didn't. None of them (the 2nd cousins) know my name. I've been gone that long.) His dad, my cousin Tony, leaned down and whispered my name to him.

"You can call her Auntie Arwen if you like... the same way you call Uncle Steve "Uncle" even though he's not really your uncle?" Tony explained.

I cringed. I SO don't like the "Auntie" thing.

Ethan wasn't into it.

"You can call her Tia. Is that better?"

Ethan liked that a little better. "I want to call you Tia Plant!"

"Wait... what?" His mom asked.

"Tia Plant!" He has a little bit of a lisp, so we thought maybe he was saying something else. He started getting a little frustrated with our substitutions to "Plant".

"No Mom... Tia Plant. Like they have a Garfield? And there's a Tia Scooby Doo?"

We didn't get it.

"Tia Garfield! And Tia Scooby Doo! And there's a Tia Tree?!"

We still didn't....

"OH! That's CHIA!" Tony said.

"You can call me that though! I like that!" I said "Tia Chia. That's my name from now on."

So he calls me Tia Chia.

And its awesome.

Almost as awesome as "9" is going to be. Check it, if you haven't already.

What Is This: A Center For AMAZING?

2009-01-09T20:24:00.000-08:00

Remember that time I got the job that I really wanted? And remember the time that EVERYTHING was made out of wood and there are TREES in the classrooms? And remember the time when I LOVE WOOD? Its like fate or something. Behold: One of the 4 preschool classrooms:
No.... I know right?! This is the first classroom that I saw when I got my tour during my first interview... I wish I had kids. I wish I rode my fixy to work. I wish I had a fixy to ride to work. We feed the kids all organic food, no meat, and after this spring, each of the 11 classrooms will have their own garden box. There's a full time art teacher who works in her studio upstairs and the kids work with everything... paints, clay, wood, anything that can be art is worked in that class. We go outside at least once a day no matter what.There is so much natural light that its almost scary. And where there isn't natural light, there are light bulbs that fake that sort of thing. There's not a damn fluorescent bulb in the building and that makes my heart so very, very happy. Unlike my time at another center (which I'm now realizing, after having seen several comparable centers in the past years, has AMAZING Climbers that would blow your mind), I am not there to do a case study on my Primary group. I'm allowed to talk to the parents of a child whom I'm not responsible for. I'm actually pretty much there to make sure they don't get hurt. Do you know how awesome that really is?No longer am I an Assistant Teacher following the boring old curriculum of the Lead Teacher (who was, quite possibly, one of the most annoying people on the face of the planet) (almost). I am a Co-Teacher with the other girl in the class (who decided I should be hired... thank you, Megan....). We actually don't have curriculum. We set things up for them, but.... not in the same way that we did at The Other Center. If someone is happy playing by themselves, I don't have to go interact with them. I can let them play happily by themselves and whatnot. That's a lot of pressure off of me, yano?The Teacher's Ed type of stuff that I'm allowed to do and get paid for is pretty cool too.... the example was given to me that if I took violin lessons when I was younger and had a violin at home and decided that I would like to get it fixed and bring it to the school, they would pay for it. Any kind of class related learning that I want to do, so long as it "comes back" to the school, they will most likely pay for. Not that I'll ever have anything like that, but its nice to know I have the option.

So there you have it. All of a sudden, I've got me a full time job that I'm lined up to absolutely love. Things are starting to look up a little bit.... whattya know...

awww man.... with the stink lines and everything...

2009-01-06T15:09:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was Tabitha and Jon's last night in town. In true Gentry Visit Fashion, we went to a Breanna show and I saw people that I consider friends whom I only see when Tabitha is in town, but I will tell you about Coleen's perfect hair and Breanna's talent and Molly's East Coast Aire later.

Previous to this outing, I went to Mike's for some craft time. He came downstairs and let me in and when we got up to his apartment, he sat down and set me up for a potentially awkward compliment (the set up for these is always the same).

He said "You've gone and got yourself all gussied up for your concert tonight (*I was wearing, jeans, flip flops, and a black hoodie and my glasses... I was far from gussied and he was not being sarcastic*) .... and.... you smell really good."

This was strange-- and I told him so-- because I hadn't done anything to make myself smell since 9:00 that morning, but thank you...? I didn't bother asking him what I smelled like. I just figured he had finally tired of telling me I looked nice so he came up with I smell nice.

We sat and worked on our respective art projects and I left to head up to Mississippi Pizza. I stopped at the 76 on the corner of 21st and Lovejoy and the gas attendant told me my incense smelled good.

I smiled and said "Oh thank you!"

In my head though, I said "Incense what?" About 3 months ago I put some Jasmine spongie thing in my truck to make it smell, but that smell is all gone and now it just smells like Purple Listerine (the day I was stuck in the truck.... you remember.... Attack Of The Haiku?) and maybe some old shoes that have been in there since Moscow Starbucks.

I had to ask Mike what it was that I smelled like and he said it was kind of incensey, but not like a dirty hippy... kind of... sweet.....

I couldn't figure it out. I don't wear incensey scents. I might if I found one I liked, but.... I can't find a perfume like that which doesn't smell like a man. All of the fluff I have at home smells like either Sweet Pea, Night Blooming Jasmine, or the oldest Sweet Cinnamon Pumpkin in existence. No incense there.

Then it came to me: for Christmas, Jeremy and Ciera got me an oil diffuser that has been diffusing away on my counter since the day after Christmas (I've honestly always wanted one but been too cheap and picky to buy one for myself) and you know what it smells like? Sandalwood and Vanilla.

Incense and sweet.

Enter my apparently New Signature Scent.

Maybe You Heard That I Got The Job......

2009-01-05T09:44:00.000-08:00

Lance Hardwood in "Ted Mosby: Sex Architect"

2009-01-04T12:18:00.000-08:00

Its really a damn shame that concentration of legit artists in Portland is so high and that graffiti is illegal in Ye Olde Us because I'd like to see something good.
But alas, I'll have to wait and only see something good once in a blue moon.
Mmm... Blue Moon's burgers.....

Maybe Tonight

2009-01-04T01:18:00.000-08:00

But see.... that's just the thing.... I'm not really saying all that much. Even though it may seem to you that I put a lot on my blog, really I'm not telling you guys SHIT about what really goes on in my life. There's quite a bit that you kids don't know.
DBS3 is like a tiny Seinfeld episode without the consistent funny: While you feel like something is happening, really... its a show based on Nothing. nothing at all.
Its. A. Show. About. Nothing.
Its. A. Blog. About. Nothing.
(Disclaimer: In no way do I mean to convey that I think DBS3 has anything on Seinfeld. I mean... clearly that's redankulous. I'm simply saying that, like Seinfeld, as well as many other quality television shows, its about Nothing.)
I will say, though, that I'm sorry that I don't confront issues directly. I'm sorry that I write blogs rather than say "No. I got quiet because you just told me the most boring story ever about how you woke up at 8:00 this morning and had toast. I think it was Rye toast. With butter. Or maybe it was margarine.... *pause* and then... then you took a bite and it was sooo funny. And then you took another bite and it was 8:10." Then a monkey flew out of my butt. You said I could call though because it sounds like I had a bad day.
But wait....
Didn't we just talk about how AWESOME your day of toast and butter (or margarine) (or vegetable oil spread) was.
Yes.
I'm sorry that I confront these issues in a public forum rather than directly, but perhaps that just me being overly judgemental like I tend to be.

And while I'm indirectly confronting, I wish you wouldn't drop tiny little comments that threaten a persons confidence and make them paranoid. I mean... not like.... "Hey... did you see on the news that guy who breaks into single women's apartments, steals their cats and wears the women's underwear while crying and putting on their make up? All while they sleep?" No. More like...... "Oh... now I get it."
That's why the #1 thing on The List Of Things I Don't Talk About is on The List Of Things I Don't Talk About. Because even though I know, for a fact, that compared to what I know, you don't know shit about what you're talking about, it still breaks me down.
and I think you know it.
Misery loves company.
And cheetos.

Bill Paxton Is Not Bill Pullman Is Not Bill Paxton

2009-01-02T17:39:00.000-08:00

Since before Jess and Ryan moved out of their apartment downstairs, I've had a box of Kix. You might remember this as being the box of Kix I survived on when I was deathly ill, lying in bed after dry heaving in the middle of the night, desperate to have something to show for my blood vessel damaging efforts.

Since I can no longer eat cereal by the boxful (on account of Soy milk actually tasting like ass)(don't knock it til you try it), it has sat in my cupboard for the year, untouched. Tonight, I decided to use it and see how it went

I bought a bag of noodles a few days ago and decided it was garlic butter and noodle night. I really wished that I had some bread crumbs to sprunkle over the top, but alas, I've no bread. But I had kix. I'm in love with sweet and spicy (though garlic is hardly spicy) so I gave it a whirl. Aside from the Crushed Kix getting a little soggy on the bottom of the bowl from the butter, it was actually quite tasty. Just needed cheese and it would be the best mac and cheese ever.

What a blustery day I had today.... I went and got Tabitha in SE and, because of interviews 1.2 and 2.2, our time was limited. We headed up to 23rd (cause that's kind of Our Thing) and met Ezra for some wandering and awesome (things we all excel at). I then had to get Tabitha over to Hawthorn (or Gaythorn if you have the auto-entry on your razr enabled) and then had to get to my interview. I was sure I was going ot be late.
I wasn't.
Interview 2.2.1 went ok. It was hard to read the teachers in a manner that would determine if they liked me and thought they could work with me (because that is what the deciding factor is at this point
Interview 2.2.2 went swimmingly. The Co-Teacher and I chatted and things went well there (that's the one our fingers are crossed for). It then took me an hour and 15 minutes to get home from SE Burnside. AN HOUR AND 15 MINUTES. It typically takes 20 minutes AT THE MOST. On a regular day, I would have to leave the house about 15-20 minutes before to get to the mall, park, check my face, and roll in a tit bit early
I left the house at 3:50 for my 4:00 interview. I made it, but had to chiggidy check myself on the way in. While at 1.2, I learned that this position, which I really think I would enjoy, starts out at only 10 hours a week. Ouch. Now, don't get me wrong... If I'm offered, I'm taking it. 10 hours is better than nothing. But I'm hoping that I get the other one because that is full time, Monday thru Friday. I would really like to know about Kid Job before Mall Job so I don't have to accept and then "quit".

So... that's pretty much my life. Worlds partially collided once again today when I remembered that Tabitha went to McNary High School just like Traci (Ezra's BF/ exGF) and, as could be determined from Worlds Partially Colliding, Tabitha knew Traci. I genuinely think that Tabitha could be connected to Kevin Bacon quite easily.

Quite easily indeed.

A Day In The Life

2009-01-01T20:46:00.000-08:00

What a day, what a day.

I had an interview at an undisclosed AMAZING daycare in SE (that actually makes me wish I had kids... they have TREES in the classrooms! TREES!). I almost didn't go because I figured there was no way I would be considered for this position and I really didn't have the gas to go down there and still make my interview on Friday (this is also what kept me from Traci's last night. and I was pist about it). But I went figuring that I would have just enough gas to get me there, back and to the mall.

I was wrong. I was below empty by the time I got to Burnside and was immediately stressed out. Not a good place to be when headed to a place that deals with children.

I got my tour and then we had our interview on the floor in one of the toddler classrooms while the yellow lab mix sat watch in the hall. Immediately afterward (i mean... AFTER I got offered a second interview) I called Mike and had to borrow money from him to get me to payday on Friday (did you catch that?!) (it is raining so hard right now and it is a little bit amazing). Trouble was, I was in SE and he was in The West Hills not to return until later in the early evening-ish. Now.... remember that part where I didn't have gas? That means I really REALLY didn't have gas. I had no money so I couldn't loiter in a coffee shop either. Didn't want to go to Powells because that would just be disappointing. So I parked in The Pearl.

I called my parents and talked for a while.

I called Ash and talked for a while.

Then.... there was no one else to call.

So I sat in my truck. In the rain. Sitting. Thru a tiny clear spot on my fogged up window, an amazing pair of muscular man calves came walking toward my truck. They belonged to a man far too old to be attractive. But I wrote him a haiku because I was terrible bored:

Fog on the windshield
muscular legs walk toward me
but he's way too old.

and then... well... I didn't stop there. I wrote a total of 30 haiku sitting there.... and now.... my new years gift to you, is to reproduce them here. Enjoy:

2. what are the chances
that I find myself stranded
broke and in the pearl?

3. rain rain pouring down
if I had an umbrella
I'd be at Powell's now.

4. I wish I had books
because the four signs i see
are getting real old.

5. I can't feel my feet
Sweet Jesus I'm dying here
I can't feel my feet.

6. the face of boredom:
I find that Haiku is not
all that bad really

7. no. wait. i was wrong.
I would much rather be home
Where Akira is.

8. you boys are so dumb
i'd like to yell it at you
but then you'd shoot me

9. Where the f>ck are you
better not be Natalie
if it is, you'll die.

10. Hey you! Greaser boy!
Perhaps if you had a hat
your hair would stay dry

11. Toyota Yaris
your little car makes me laugh
cause its small and blue

12. Ring cell phone! Just Ring!
I don't care who's on the end
I'm just so damn bored!

13. a one word haiku
antidisestablishment
awe inspiring.

14. the art school is close
too bad all the boys are gone
holiday status

15. its raining harder
and still no mike bail out plan
gad... this is my life.

16. sent tj a text
prolly wont hear back from her
cause jamie hates me

17. but that's just silly
because... apples and oranges
I don't not like her....

18. three hours alone:
engaging survival mode
must conserve tic tacs

19.Uhaul truck went by
If I lived here, I'd be home
And not in my truck

20.do I need this now?
I mean seriously guys...
can't I get a break?

21. The night closes in
the zombies will be out soon
Then I'll be dinner

22. Mmm... dinner sounds good
Think I'll have noodles, butter
and some water... mmmm....

23. Hey! Is that HottKarl?!
Oh sweet Jesus no its not!
Boy was I wrong there!

24. Walking hand in hand
umbrella, boots, and a coat
aren't you just so cute

25. I save messages
without purpose or reason
Just in case you die

26. it is still raining
why is it so f>cking cold?
Oh. Right. Its winter.

27. Hey! You! Asian kid!
why is your hand in your pants
isn't that your mom?!

28. sometimes i like to
pretend your disappointment
means you now love me

29. this green scarf from jess
is so freakin warm and soft
wish it were undies...

30. lady bits is a
phrase that makes you so very
very uneasy

Arwen Is: The Phenomenae of Facebook Status As A True Reflection Of Emotions

2008-12-31T17:46:00.000-08:00

I hate facebook. its as simple as that. Its so pointless for me... maybe because I actually used it in college so now... it just seems.... silly. Back then, I could get homework and assignments and info from people in my classes that I didn't really know. Now though... its just..... silly. I don't need to know what you're doing every step of the way. I mean.... I tell you what I'm doing, but... typically only once or twice. Bumper stickers, little plants, snow balls, fake scrabble games, drunken pictures of you and your mom..... its all just so..... lame.

I'm not sure where I had intended to go with this, but..... whatever.

I just changed my status to reflect the fact that tonight is incredibly disappointing. I was going to go over to Traci's and chill with The Kids, but now.... because I have an interview tomorrow and another on Friday, I can't afford to go anywhere because I have no gas and no money. How lame is that. The people that I want to hang out with are completely unavailable because I can't find a job.

So here I sit... watching Dirty Dancing again because I'm too lazy (and depressed) to get up and put a different movie in.
And my back is killing me.
and I dropped my phone in the ranch.
What a great way to end the year.
Lame.

not lame: Zach Levi.

Yum.

;)

Things That I Love Resulting In My Undying Nerdiness

2008-12-30T15:35:00.000-08:00

I love office supplies.

Pens, high-lighters, post-its, staplers, and most of all.... Clipboards.

Dear lord I love clipboards.

I have one at home, thanks to Jess. Once, I was not so fond of the CB... but then.... after staying with Jess and Ry and seeing just how functional a clipboard can be... I was sold. The one I have now is blue. I used it at UI when I went to tutor because the kids always claimed that they didn't know what they were supposed to be working on. Well you know what? Thanks to Big Blue, I always knew what they were supposed to be working on.

Old Reliable/ Big Blue... that's what I call my clip board.

This comes up because I'm working today (and tomorrow) and we've a hefty stock of clip boards in varying sizes, though I don't know why... seems to me that we only need one little one and 4 big ones at most.

I think I need a new clipboard.

I'm just sayin.

oh... and the other thing I'm just sayin is that I FINALLY got called back for a 2nd interview. Fingers crossed, people... Mamma needs this one...

THIS WAS UNCALLED FOR

2008-12-28T22:29:00.000-08:00

Remember back in the day when this thing was called "Un-Named Work Of Genius"? This was the title that inspired that name. I bought it in 2001. I don't remember why. I think it was being all hububbed about in a magazine or something.

Anyways, I finished Death With Interruptions last night (a book that took far too long to read for the size of it) and since I've no money, I've no new books to read. I've exhausted my stockpile so I had to go back to something that I've already read. East of Eden? One Hundred Years Of Solitude? House of Leaves? In Watermelon Sugar? It was far too soon to read any of them. I had to pick something I didn't quite remember beginning to end and that I hadn't read a billion times already. That made choosing hard since I go on Author Kicks and read every book by a single author and then move on to another.

Enter dear, dear Dave Eggers....

I remember that I liked the book but I didn't quite remember why.

I pulled it off the shelf and sat down with the von Trapp family and opened that little guy up.
There, on a little yellow post it, was the accusation "viciously cute" and I remembered that I was called viciously cute the first time I read AHWoSG. I don't remember who said it and I don't remember why. But I remember writing it down on the post it.

After reading the page with the publishing information, I remembered why I liked AHWoSG so much. I was further reminded at the end of the preface where the last words are "Here is a drawing of a stapler." Followed by....
a drawing of a stapler.
This is going to be a wonderful second meeting.

She's Always Late For Everything (Except For Every Meal)

2008-12-28T19:02:00.000-08:00

I have never EVER seen The Sound Of Music. Ever. In all honesty, I don't even know what its about. I think its something like.... a Nazi king has a billion kids and that blond lady comes and teaches their little punk asses how to um... be ladies.... so she teaches them french and gives them new names and then um... The cat runs away.... and they wash that man right out of her hair... Something about Fur Trapping...
But seriously... no clue. I DO know that there's a bunch of kids, von Trapps, singing, and The Alps. Oh... and Julie Andrews.
So here I sit.... me and Akira.... watching a movie who's songs I know all the words to but have no idea what its about.
This is my life.
(but really, I'm not complaining. I mean.. yesterday I spent the day with E watching movies[none of which made me cry.. SCORE!] and the day before was all day with Jessica. And the days before that with a different Jessica. So on and so forth.)
I'm going to go make some garlic chicken and rice.
Cause that's the other thing I do.

God Wouldn'ta Given Ya Maracas If He Didn't Want Ya To Shake Em!

2008-12-27T22:01:00.000-08:00

I wish that I were able to re-name this "Andy Samburg and The Art of War", but.... well..... I've watched "Dirty Dancing" 15 times in the past 10 minutes and that is the title you get.

But seriously people..... I had this convo with Ezra tonight and I feel that Andy Samburg could quite possibly be my dream man. Seriously. He makes all of my blog shallowness ok:

Andy Samburg.: Not that great looking. Not really that much at all (except for when he's making fun of Euro Trash Hipsters..... Hot). But his sense of humor? The fact that he ALWAYS makes me laugh? I'd do him.

I'd totally do him, big fuzzy fro and all.

Andy Samburg's sense of humor makes him so very, very attractive.

And you're not surprised.

also, you're not surprised that, aside from the silly lyrics, this is actually a good song. Viva La Timberlake.

What is surprising, though, is how OK I am with the Johnny/ Baby situation. At no point during the movie do you think that Johnny and Baby are going to stay together. They're not going to get married and have babies. Ever. They are simply the All Time Greatest Summer Fling of All Time. Ever. But you know what? I never once doubt that Johnny Loves Baby and vice versa. And I'm ok with their unending love for the summer.

Strange how that works.

I'm really just stalling.... I've got nothing to blog about... well... I do, but...we'll talk about my day with Jessica later. Maybe tomorrow.

Christmas

2008-12-25T20:04:00.000-08:00

Not a lot of pictures of Jessica and I exist. We were almost always out in the woods, down by the creek on our meeting rock.

You remember Jessica... she's the one whom I dreamed about nightly before I moved to Boise. My first friend upon moving to Camas the July before 1st Grade... We were friends off and on all thru school and never really had a falling out that would result in our not being friends, just lost touch.

A misread myspace message left me feeling terrible guilty last night and today, after 13 years of not talking to her.... I talked to Jessica. I feel like it should be incredibly dramatic like... I hadn't heard her voice in so long and she sounded just the same... but both our voices have changed, but as she was first to point out, our laughs are still the same.

We gave each other quick catch ups and we laughed about the things we did...

"Remember when we were 13 and we started accidentally dating those Indian guys who lived upstairs who were like.... 25?!"
"When we rode our bikes to see Josh and he wasn't even home?!"
"Meeting at our rock by the creek?!"
"When I accidentally went on a date with your Jamacian Drug Dealer Boyfriend?!"

I asked if she had been back up on our mountain lately....

The last time she had, Our House was still there, so it was way back in 98 or 99. We both got suddenly sad because...
--and I'm nearly crying now--
our homes are gone. The places we grew up and lived together for 10+ years is unrecognizable now. I told her that I can't even tell where her house was.... where we used to lay in The Net in the back yard and the motocross track that Rick made when we were in 2nd grade, or where their bulldog that bit Michael's wrist one time was buried.

And the creek is gone. It disappeared when they logged the entire chunk of land.
It was strange to share that sadness with someone other than my brother....

Tomorrow........
Tomorrow I am going to drive up to Cascade Locks and see her and meet the daughter that looks exactly like she did when she was a little girl.

I'm incredibly excited, nervous, and scared all at the same time....

13 years is a long time......

Morse Code Christmas

2008-12-25T11:37:00.000-08:00

My parents didn't come over for Christmas.

I didn't know about my Grandma finally hosting Christmas at her house again after a lengthy hiatus until I had already made plans.

Ezra's family Christmas got cancelled/ re-scheduled.

Mike is drunk.

Jess' parents live in the middle of nowhere and I could have died on my way up here.

But I came out anyways and you know what?

I'm pretty glad I did.

Them Grahams (and them Woodseses) are good people.

(for the record, don't think that coming up here was in anyway the boobie prize... except for that time I had to sleep next to Jenna who, interestingly enough, does Morse Code in her sleep)

I've Seen Attack Ships On Fire Off The Shoulder Of Orion

2008-12-23T22:17:00.000-08:00

Remember that time I was going bat shit from being cooped up in the house with no phone? Lawls.
that was a good one.
So last night, I went over to Kevin and Brenda's to hang with The Kids and the 2nd cutest kid in OKC. I was unsure how comfortable I was driving up to Yacolt alone, so I took Jess' present with me JUST IN CASE (remember that time I said I'd be fine so long as I didn't see her until Christmas Eve?). It sat in my bag safe and sound until I was leaving and she demanded it from me. She wrestled me to the ground and even bit me.
But I'm ok.
So yeah. I caved 2 days early. Weak.
On my way to That Side of Town (I never go over there) I passed a construction site where, apparently, there is going to be a Wal-Mart. There were kids EV. RE. WHERE. And cars parked everywhere and everyone was sledding down these massive piles of dirt. The cars had their lights shining on the snow and in my head I said "Awww..... its like Norman Rockwell meets Dukes of Hazard..." And I was pretty proud of that.
Maybe a little too proud.

Today, I had my long overdue Hang Out With Ezra day. He's being a pouter and staying home. Alone. For Christmas. So I went over with a bag full of cookie supplies. I had to stop by the store and get a few things. As I was at the downtown Safeway (remember when that place was SUPER trashy? Good times) and realized that, being 2 single guys, they may not have cookie sheets. I checked and I was right. Luckily, I've been needing cookie sheets, so buying them was no biggie.
but they didn't have any.
they also didn't have any cream of tartar.
What kind of grocery store doesn't have cream of flarking tartar?
So I had to go from 10th and Jefferson up to the Freddy's on Burnside. Apparently, in the snow, crosswalk signals don't matter. And I should be able to stop on a dime. Bastard old men walking everywhere. I should have hit one just to prove a point.
Jerks.
Anyways, I almost got stuck on the parking structure. But they had cream of tartar. And they had baking supplies buy two get one free. This was perfect because I could get 2 cookie sheets and a cooling rack that I've also needed for free. Perfect. Merry Christmas me.
FINALLY I got to Ezra's and got to making the Christmas Cookies That Almost Weren't. We mixed and ingrediented and mixed and chatted and had a grand time. He picked a movie to watch from the Pile of Christmas that I brought him and so we watched Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer.
Which he'd never seen.
WHOOOAT!?
It was turned into quite the sexual movie (I mean... like..... we were able to make it a very dirty movie... not like.... we totally got it on....) and we laughed and i cried at the crushing of my childhood memories. It was a grand Fakesmas afternoon.

I then made my way down to Marshall where Mike would soon be arriving. Eventually he did and we went to Nobbys for a bit of sad, sad, sitcom Christmas dinner. We then watched Jurassic Park and.... Let me just say that the best line came out when I told him that I really wanted to show him the damage that his favorite cat did to my leg but because of its location (just above my knee), I would have to drop trou because I couldn't pull the leg up that high.
The damage that Akira did yesterday is quite impressive. It looks like I should have stitches and there's even bruising where her pointy little claw went in real deep. Seriously. Finally, I couldn't stand it. I had to show someone. So Mike says, with mouth full of cookie with no connotation of dirty or sex "Arwen. I've seen you naked. Just take your pants off." And because it was so straight forward and HILARIOUS, I did. I dropped trou right there in the middle of his living room.
K.
That was strange.
But like I said. It wasn't sexy at all, so.... its cool.
Another Lawl:
Earlier, while at the Hardman-Fray residence, the phrase "Harrison Ford Vibrator" came up. I remembered this hours later while at Mike's house and so I wrote it on my 4arm (where notes tend to go) and I just pulled up my sleeve, having forgotten it was there, and laughed.
Out loud.

Anyways, Mike and I watched Jurassic Park, I drew him a picture of our matching tattoos (shovels. we're going to get shovels because we don't deal with our crap, we just bury it. its very healthy of us.)

Its like I'm making up for those 3 days that I was without.
And it was good.
Oh---- the whole cookie thing....
Because of the holiday and the snow, people bought every single red and green sprunkle in every grocery store in Multnomah County. So I got pastel rainbow stars.
I took some cookies "home" and upon presenting Mike with the "Christmas Cookies" that were simple round sugar cookies with white cream cheese frosting and pastel star sprinkles, I said "Well... what do you expect. The Fake Jew and The Jehova get together and make Christmas cookies: This is what you get."
And we laughed and laughed.

That's it.

I'm Not With Them....

2008-12-22T13:45:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure what made this pop into my head at this particular time, but... sometimes, I'm embarrassed to be a woman.
Its when I'm in the company of the kinds of females who want to go to strip clubs and cat call men. The women who think size matters and who are just, in general, pigs.

Tuesday through Saturday, I'm surrounded by girls. Not all of them are like the ones above, but... some of them are and it sucks because I'm getting lumped into their category. There's a new-ish teacher (cadet teacher actually, meaning he's learning) and he's a straight black man. This means that everyone and their mother wants to have sex with him.

He's a pretty average looking guy. Not exactly sliced bread, but... not doggy either. He's just... eh. But these girls are just going crazy over him and its gross. Sad news is that he's getting ruined by it. He seems to be a nice guy. He's kind of soft spoken and whatnot, but.... he flirts. Too much. Its so unprofessional for him to act the way that he does, but he's young and he's got this school full of girls who want to have sex with him.... he's doomed. He's become too comfortable too soon and I'm pretty sure that no one, while he is an instructor there, will ever take him seriously because of it.

But then again, beauty school isn't real school and no one takes it seriously anyways, so.... whatever (this isn't true. There's a lot of science involved in it and there's SO much more involved than just holding your shears at the right angle and learning how to read).

Its just too bad cause, as a bagina that doesn't want him all up in it, I actually pay attention to the things that he says and he's actually a pretty good teacher. But so long as you're sitting there imagining him with his clothes off oiled up and doing your dishes... you ain't gon learn shit.
That's it.

If you're anywhere near a Cricket store and you want to pay my phone bill, I'll make you something pretty.
seriously.
i'm not even joking.

... Dirty Bird.....

2008-12-21T17:27:00.000-08:00

I'm going crazy. Seriously.
Its times like this that I'm mildly pist that I renewed my lease and I'm still in Vancouver.
Cause if I were in Portland, I wouldn't be sitting here by myself wishing I could break James Caan's ankles.

Nothing To Do With Minus The Bear

2008-12-20T20:17:00.000-08:00

Rumor has it there hasn't been snow like this since January 2004.

That year (well.... 2003, actually), my parents came over and packed up a bunch of my stuff then went home early Christmas Eve morning leaving me in a mostly empty apartment to freeze by myself for a very merry Christmas.

On my very last night in town, I had accidentally packed all my blankets. And my stereo. I had packed everything except for a heating pad and what I was wearing. I had nothing better to do, so in the middle of the night, I walked around the neighborhood. It was dark, snowing, cold, quiet, and perfect.

I went back to my empty crappy apartment and tried to stay warm while sleeping on an 8 x 12 heating pad.

Jess had agreed to drive over to Boise with me and then fly back so I stayed at the Woods- Silvertree house for a few days. New Years Day, we were out.

That is the day that Pam stopped loving me as a daughter because even though 84 was closed to even god, we kept driving. Jess had 3 of her toes amputated, I lost all of my Christmas Ornaments (20 years of them off the back of the truck somewhere), and I officially gave up.

So I guess we've come full circle.

and you guys... yeah you two: I CAN get your texts, but I cannot respond. But I think its really funny that you're sending me texts asking if I can get them and I have no way, other than this blog that you won't read, to tell you that I can get texts.
Go figure.

Not What I Set Out To Say

2008-12-20T10:18:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, some days, there are songs that I will always sing.

Some days, sometimes, there are songs that I hold responsible for Getting Me The Guy.

In high school, the second time that Steven broke up with me (we were each afforded the luxury of breaking up with the other twice) (hey-- it was high school...), we sat in my shitty little red car in the rear parking lot wanting to talk to each other but not really having anything to say. I had just bought "Ray of Light" by Madonna (still an amazing cd) and when it got to the point where something- anything- had to happen between us, I put on skin and replayed the line "Kiss me, I'm dying" until he finally kissed me. I think we were only together for like.... a high school week after that, but.... still. It worked.

Significantly after that, while I was living in Boise, I fell in love at first sight with That One Guy. Because Boise is surrounded by a No Mans Land (oh wait... that's what Boise is... AYO!), the Fed Ex trailers get delayed a lot in the winter. We had at least a 45 minute wait one morning, so Dave and Seth asked if I wanted to go up to the store with them. I loved that little troll nose of Seth's and he smelled like love, so I went. Mind you, I had never even talked to Seth and Dave talk was VERY minimal. But I went. "Love Song" by 311 was on and, as it turns out, we both loved that song. He got me that cd for my birthday 3 days before we got married (that's strange) (HEY! Its finally Strange!) and I blame it partially on that song being on when we played hooky because if it hadn't been on and we didn't have it in common, I don't think he would have said a damn word to me.

Once, there was a boy who didn't know what he wanted from me-- whether he wanted to be friends or more or maybe.... he just didn't know. I knew exactly what I wanted from him (oh come on.... it wasn't what you think) so I was patient. One night we went out for drinks and "Such Great Heights" came on and I started singing (its one of those songs that I always sing) and a guy 4 tables away was singing too. Because we both realized the other was singing, we sang to each other.. Now, sometimes I make up things in my head so that I feel better... this was one of those times. I don't think Boy was jealous, but I like to think that he was because immediately after that, his mind was made up. I blame it on that song.

Now that I've completely changed this blog into something other than its initial purpose, I can tell you that I always sing "Give Up" in its entirety (minus Sleeping In because I don't like that song). While the walls are no entirely sound proof, they are fairly well insulated (unless you're my neighbor and you have a horribly lung rattling cough). The doors, however, are not. At all. When people are standing outside waiting for the elevator, I can hear everything. Which means they can hear everything too. More than they should be able to hear. Which means that those people who are out there waiting for the elevator can HEAR me singing alone in my apartment. Sometimes this is awkward.

The Darkest Country Road

2008-12-19T23:38:00.000-08:00

I don't have a record player.

But I want one.

And the only 2 records I want are Transatlanticism and Harvest.

This only comes up because ...

well.... because its the truth.

(you have both of these and I didn't realize you have Transatlanticism until I re-saw the cover. Then I remembered that we listened to it before you left. Oh, to fill your cup with the promise of a man.........)

(and perhaps this should go on TABFA, but.... well... its here. Tough Titties.)

His Name Is Rio And He Dances On The Sand

2008-12-19T22:27:00.000-08:00

In case you hadn't heard, I'm in the esthetics class now. Alone. By myself. Just me and the teacher. You would think that were a sucky situation, but in reality, its not that bad. I actually feel like I'm getting my $25,000 worth.

In this class, I do facials, waxing, make-up, and that sort of stuff. I've finished my facial training and Traci was my first facial. It went pretty well. I think that may have been partially because I had never done (or received, actually) a facial and she had never had one. So really, I could have done terrible and neither one of us would have known. If you want one, come on in. For some reason I can't find my price list, but its cheap. I know that.

This week, we've been going over waxing. This isn't really a big deal because I'm a girl. I wax. No biggie. Plus... well... its not that complicated: Put the wax where you want it in the direction that the hair goes, pull the skin tight, rip it off in the opposite direction. Not. That. Complicated. Though we don't offer them, today I learned how to give a Brazilian wax to a woman.

and a man.

Now, I can easily be professional. The body is the body. We've all got the same parts (you know what I mean) and I've certainly seen my share of man parts. But to see her wax a man's testicles THE WRONG WAY?!
That poor guy.
She did NOT hold that scrotum tight when she ripped the hair out. There were times when she didn't even get the wax all the way off and had to .... ugh.... that poor man.
but then......
then she had to do the rear.

Apparently, the easiest way to get those tough to reach spots is to have the client over a small version of a yoga ball. This poor man's testicles were not only in that unfortunate tea bag position, but the poor things were fire engine red.
and dangling.
oh dear god, the dangling...

It was really. Really. Really awkward.
Almost as awkward as when the esthetician put a stick between the girl's labia like.... like a bookmark or something. WHOOOAT!?
Now... I've never had a Brazilian, but...... correct me if I'm wrong..... if someone stuck a popsicle stick in there-- functional or not-- I would NOT be tipping, I would NOT be returning, and I would prolly......
eek.
Not cool.
Not cool at all.
And with that image, I leave you.
Goodnight.

Garth: That Was A Haiku....

2008-12-19T00:24:00.000-08:00

I feel like, in all of my Nerd Glory, I should love The Art of Haiku. I should sit here and Haiku It Up while I watch All My Children (BTW: I cried today when Erica told Zach on the phone that Mertyl had died... It took me back to when Erica's mom died and she sat at the top of the stairs. I haven't looked to see if she frealsies passed away like Mona did....) *

--Back to Haiku--

I feel like I should get tingles from the limitless possibilities of 5-7-5. I mean... c'mon... I love poetry. I love nature. I love non-decorative Asian elements. What about Haiku don't I like?!

Thinking about it.

That's what.

I don't want to have to think about it.

But I think that will be my next Nerdly Hobby.

Maybe.

Or maybe my next nerd hobby should be getting to sleep at a decent time.

Huh. We'll see.

*post post: well bust my buttons-- turns out Eileen Herlie (Mertyl Fargate) actually passed from pnemonia complications back in October. Her appearances have been pretty few and far between in the past year and a half, but I SWEAR I just saw her like... right before The Tornadoes came thru. But I guess not. Sad days.

Twinkle Twinkle

2008-12-18T13:13:00.000-08:00

One Christmas, we were poor. Like... really poor. This was the year that 3 people in our house "accidentally" rubbed the voodoo lamp and my dad got laid off from his job right before Christmas. And if I'm not mistaken, it was also the year that it snowed like whoa, our pipes froze and we had to heat water on the stove to take baths in the kitchen because it was too cold everywhere else in the house. We were pretty much hulled up in the living room all winter with blankets over the doorways and camp outs in front of the fireplace at night. The electricity was out (and now that I think about it, there's a possibility that it was actually turned off.....) so we played games by candle light at night.

Anyways, Christmas was never huge. It was certainly big and never disappointing, but it was never a HUGE ordeal where we got everything we asked for. But when Dad lost his job, they told us. Mom and dad let us know that Christmas would be a little different this year because there was no money.

I don't remember how I felt when mom told me that, so I can't say that I was devastated, disappointed, or indifferent. But I remember exactly what I got that year. Every other year I can tell you one or two things that I got, but that year.... actually..... everything I got for Christmas that year was the best present ever. Not for any deep meaning that proved my maturity, but because ... well... I got a pair of socks with a little koala bear on them and his nose was a little pom pom. My Grandma Martinez had crocheted a doll dress that was AMAZING with pink and maroon ruffles and ribbons and layers and layers of girly awesome, and my mom had picked out a Santa Clause mug (the ones that were shaped like Santa's face and the handle was the end of his hat) from my Great Grandma Schultz' stash.
The koala's nose fell off and I outgrew the socks, but that doll and that mug are actually 2 of the things that I miss most now that I don't have them.

There's been a lot of parents on tv lately who can't give their kids the huge Christmas-To-Do that they are accustomed to. Even though I don't have kids, I understand it; You want the people you love and care about to have everything they want. But there's a lot of parents who don't want their kids to know that they can't afford to buy them a lot of presents.

You know what though? Even though its hard and it hurts to not give them everything, I'm proof that they'll be ok (and possibly better) even if they don't get that Red Rider BB Gun.

Midge Now: More Than Ever!

2008-12-17T22:11:00.000-08:00

Now more than ever, friends are starting their own traditions during the holiday season.

Libraries: We need them now more than ever.

United by the common challenge of primary health care, the time is ripe, now more than ever, to foster joint learning and sharing across nations to chart the most direct course towards health for all.

We need our straight allies and we need our friends and our families to stand with us now more than ever.

In this time of added caution and uncertainty-now more than ever-study abroad remains a beneficial and safe way to enhance a student's academic program and promote self-growth.

Workers want unions now more than ever.

U.S. needs missile defense now more than ever.

Now more than ever, Britain needs a plan for Afghanistan.

Giving to charity matters now more than ever - and you can probably afford it.

We need Christmas now more than ever: Share the spirit, regardless of faith.

Ailing Sprint Needs Android Now More Than Ever.

The recent election means this: now more than ever, the free market approach to the business of agriculture needs proactive effort, needs intelligent and informed offense and defense from you.

...now more than ever, i'm pretty sure that, if i hear this saying again, i'm going to light my hair on fire and punch myself in the face...

NOW WITH MORE EVER THAN EVER!

Patience Is A Virtuethat i don't have

2008-12-17T12:40:00.000-08:00

Maybe you've heard: I suck at Christmas.
You may have also heard that I suck at birthdays and anniversaries.
In fact, anything that requires me to "Pre-Shop" for gifts, I suck at. I have no patience! Once I get you something, I want to give it to you IMMEDIATELY. I've had Jess' present for the past week and its driving me crazy. I want to take it over to her house right now. But I won't. I will wait until Christmas since I will be with The Grahams.

I will wait.
I must.
I should be fine so long as I don't see her until Christmas Eve............

My other problem? Working past problems without fixing them and then, once I'm damn near done with a project, I realize that that little mistake has turned a scarf into a squidgie mess that looks like... nothing. So I undo the entire thing and start over.
When I should have been done today, I will now be lucky to have LeeAndra's scarf done by Friday (which really, doesn't matter because we have school up until the day before Christmas eve, but still. I want her to have it NOW!)

I found a box in my "kitchen" closet a few days ago that said X-Mas on it... its not my box or my writing, so I opened it and found the Christmas ornaments that Seth's dad found the year we got our bed. There's some really gorgeous ornaments and some really old ones. It made me wish I had a tree other than Tabitha and Jon's Poinsettia to decorate (my Moscow Wal-Mart palm tree finally died) (lame) (I did not decorate the Poin).

Then I remembered that I'm fake Jewish and We don't do that.

The Winds Of Change And Introspection and Self Discovery

2008-12-16T15:10:00.000-08:00

I've been feeling pretty crummy about my hair lately. Its in its awkward short grow out stage and even thought I can typically make it work, I still hate it. More and more every day I miss my old hair... the hair from when Justin and I had the same cut...

On Saturday, I not only woke up late, dried myself into a bad hair day, and missed the streetcar, but I decided to walk to school rather than sit and wait and be late. Now, if you're anyone who knows anything about anything, you know that it was freakin freezing on Saturday morning. And I'm here to tell you that it was indeed freezing.

My hair was up in its partial anime shape, I had no makeup on and i was wearing my glasses (I got a facial that morning). As I turned the corner onto 12th, I realized that my hair is alright.

Once, last Spring, Justin and I were wandering like we did and there was a bit of a breeze. We were both in possession of side bangs and the wind was blowing THE WRONG WAY! It was MESSING UP OUR HAIR! Tragic. So very, very tragic. Someone made a comment that it was difficult to have such awesome hair when the wind blows it the wrong direction.

So as I turned the corner next to the parking structure and the frozen wind blew my hair the wrong way and I considered walking backwards to maintain its A-Factor, I realized that my hair, though not the uber popular awesome that it once was, is still good if it can get messed up with a breeze.

Destination: Dark Side

2008-12-15T18:22:00.000-08:00

Sometime last week, Anna mentioned that I'm not completely crafty until I join Ravelry. Immediately after I read her comment, I went over there and checked it out. I found out that you can't just sign up, you have to Request An Invitation. Now, I'm thinking that everyone who asks for one gets one, but still.... the anticipation was kind of exciting! They told me I would have my invite Wednesday-ish. Thursday when it hadn't come yet, I checked and Rav told me there was still 3000 people in front of me. So I waited.

Today.... it came.

I spent all day setting up my profile: getting a decent picture of me, describing my projects, getting my Stash ready for photo ops.... this took all day, not because its so extensive, but because my computer sucks. Crap.

But I'm officially the owner of a Crafty New Hobby.

I need this..... I am excited about nothing in my life right now in that regard and getting onto Ravelry has ... done something.
I want to do cool stuff and show it off. I want to get ideas from other people's cool stuff that they're showing off. I already have so many projects in my head and.... ugh. I may be up all night setting up a que...
Its nice to have something to do since I'm lame and can't get a job.
I'm starting my next project tonight (after this) and I'm hoping that it goes well. I'm adding a new stitch to my repertoire and its a doozie.
So we'll see.

Sidenote: 94.7 had their 94 Best Alternative Albums of Ever and, while I haven't heard all of them, I've not been very surprised about what's on the list. The #1 was announced on Friday and I missed it cause I don't really listen to the radio when I'm not in the truck. Today, I got an e-mail from KNRK and in it, was a link to hear Greg announce the top album.
I died a little on the inside and on the outside, I yelled "ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW!?"
Creed.
Creed?
This guy: [ ]
beat out things like Stone Temple Pilots and Pearl Jam and .......
Creed?!
The best fugging alternative album was FUGGING CREED!
ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?
i'm so pist.
(postpost: Thank You Squid.)

The Silk That Saved Christmas

2008-12-14T19:01:00.000-08:00

While looking for a delightful picture for this post, I came across a taste tested review for several Nogs on the market.

The Silk Nog that I bought-- and had planned to center this blog around because it made my troubles seem so far away-- rated as "Thin Gruel".

I was going to wait until tomorrow morning and have an eggnog latte, but..... well... I may have to go test it out right now.

A little back story: last week, I stopped by Safeway on my way home to pick up some soy (its pretty much the only thing other than rice that I buy) and I reached in my pocket and put on my Sad Face because I can no longer enjoy my only gingerbread eggnog latte of the season. Its really the only way that that gingerbread syrup was anything even resembling bearable. But then..... as if thrust forward by a tall stock boy... there was the Silk Nog..... the same price as Silk Vanilla soy (but I go with the Safeway brand) for half the juice. Since I only had a very limited amount of money, I bypassed the Nog and stayed excited about it up until just a few minutes ago when I found that review.

ok.... here I go....brb.....

ok.
I poured myself a tiny little glass (they're actually the demitasse cups that Starbucks has)(*wink wink*) and now I'm waiting for The Verissimo to warm up. I figured I would give The Gruel a fighting chance: I don't like cold nog, so I may as well warm it. Might even throw some Rum in it for good measure.

When I poured it, it was not very thick which is a good sign... thick beverages that are not smooties kind of skeeze me out. This was thinner than real Nog and smelled not quite as sweet. These are all signs pointing to Positive Interactions.

Sounds like The V is ready.....

It was ready so I steamed my tiny cup of Nog (not really eggnog since it doesn't have eggs in it)(gross) and scooped the 5' of foam off the top (double gross)

So here we go...........

Smell: It smells like sweet soy milk. Or like sweet with an underscent of soy.... not as sweet as real nog (as I suspected) but still makes me want Spumoni ice cream.

Taste: ... I'm nervous.....
ok.
heregoes.
oh!
oh! that's not bad!
Its .....

ITS GLORIOUS!

its a little bit already nutmeggy, it is in fact thin but I like that. Its not leaving a warm fuzzy Nog Coat on my teeth. It does hate that little underscore of soy, but not bad. Not bad at all!

Akira Sits In The Window And Bats At The Snowflakes

2008-12-14T14:15:00.000-08:00

Typically on Sundays, you get the Our Kind Of Magic post that I've become so fond of. But today, you just get a "*sigh* its snowing and the fugging truck won't start" post.

I was woken up right on cue this morning with a text from E telling me that it was snowing. I grabbed my glasses from the powerful jaws of Akira and checked the scene, you know what I mean? It was in fact snowing. We went back and forth for bit and, after I woke up for real 3 hours later and looked at the texts, I'm amazed because I think I was actually still asleep.

At noon when I FINALLY got out of bed, it was still snowing and it made my heart happy. Our Kind Of Magic Sunday was canceled due to a visit with Jesus (on his part) but then was potentially rescheduled to take part in a first time viewing of Batman. But.......

The truck won't start and I have to figure out why. I really really really don't think its the battery; all lights and electric accessories work absolutely fine and it will start if I hold the clutch down and press the clutch start cancel button and then it won't even turn over the first 3 or 4 times but then it will try to start, but not in a dead battery way, and then disappoint me. Rinse, repeat, scream, repeat until it actually starts.

So I have to figure out what the deal is cause if not... I'm stranded in Vancouver for the rest of my life which will result in me failing my esthetics class (I can only miss 3 classes before failure)(epic failure).

So instead of enjoying my Snowy Sunday the way I should, I have to stress out about the truck and ....

*sigh*

at least I have White Christmas and big windows and crafty hands.

i guess.

i'll bet this sort of thing doesn't happen in Australia.........

Close Encounters

2008-12-13T23:01:00.000-08:00

Every day, while I sit here and read your blogs and delete spam and apply for jobs that I'll never ever ever get, I look out my window and The Dog Walker walks by with his 4 dogs and his Starbucks.

He's an attractive man.... maybe mid-30s (no mustache. sorry), fit, maybe around 6'1 3/4".... I imagine that he has a blond Lady Friend who is a yoga instructor but not the crazy kind that aligns your chakras while feeding you tofu off of bamboo skewers coated with organic grape seed oil.... the kind that runs marathons and has her own business and probably lives in the Pearl. Dog Walker and Yoga Lady Friend have no intentions of getting married or even of living together. This isn't to imply, though, that they are not hopelessly in love with each other, they just don't feel they need to be confined by the social standards of life partnership (I've been unemployed for a long... long.... loooong time....).

I've never seen Dog Walker at eye level so this is all kind of a distorted 4 story high version of his life. But tonight, as I walked back up Main from Subway, there was Dog Walker with his 4 friends.

let me tell you..... seeing him on a Street Level and hearing his voice and seeing that he's not nearly as tall (or as fit) as my giant window told me he is, completely shattered my fantasy. He looks older and I kind of think that all 4 of those dogs might be his.

This changes things in that his house is kind of.... well.... it kind of has that dog funk to it. His back yard isn't big enough to contain the volume of poo provided by 3 large dogs and a tiny pug, so he takes them on a tour of Uptown Vancouver so that they can not drop their Bombs in his yard.
His lady friend is not a Yoga Teacher.... she works at that Tea store on Hawthorne. Not a bad job, but its no Owning Your Own Yoga Studio In The Pearl, yano?

this is what I do.
this is what I've become.

this is my life.

I Have This Hypothesis....

2008-12-12T23:14:00.000-08:00

It seems that there's a lot of people my age who, lately, have been mildly obsessed with all things 90's. "OH MY GAD! Do you remember this song! This is so 1994!" "UGH! Remember Disney Afternoon!" "Did you ever watch TGIF?" Because there are so many mentions of things from my youth, its getting a little annoying. Yes, I remember Janet Jackson. Yes, I remember Bel Biv Devoe. Yes, I remember Full House and I remember Growing Pains. We ALL remember these things.
I attribute it to 'Us' nearing 30. Its our first milestone where we should have something to show for our life (I guess.....). When you're 21, there's not really that much going on. You've only been out of high school for a while, you're probably still in college and nothing has really changed much. At 25 you realize that if you haven't already stopped living out your late teen fantasies, you had better get started. But by 30? 30 is old. 30 is almost half dead. You remember your parents when they were 30. You should start thinking about kids cause you've only got about 10 years of good eggs left before you have to worry about grown up stuff. You should have a real job. In fact, you should have a career and not a job.

I don't necessarily believe these things, its just what I assume people think. It seems that, by 30, life has started and you're certainly not a kid anymore.
You know how I know I'm nearing that mark?
The mustache. Since when does a mustache make a man a sex bomb? An OLDER man?! I mean.... seriously.... Burt Reynolds? Should be ewe. But... no..... my kindergarten teacher...er... i mean John Stossel?
Robert Downey Jr. could be wearing a wet blanket covered in oatmeal and a piece of raw bacon and he'd still be a sex bomb, but.... give him a wet oatmeal covered blanket, a raw piece of bacon, and Tony Stark facial hair?
I have to excuse myself.

Seth Green is almost there. He's.... I don't know. I just don't know.
But you know who can't do the facial hair/ mustache thing? That's right. Sweet, sweet ManChild Elijah Wood.
One would think that all of his Indie Glory could keep a girl like me interested, but the fact of the matter is: it can't.

So that, my friends, is how I know that I'm nearing 30: I find Men attractive.
The other way? I officially have lines under my eyes and I have tiny lines at the corners of my eyes when I smile.
Its the best day of my life!
but that's a blog for another day.
prolly tomorrow.
Off to make That Hat.

Shoe To Pant Ratio

2008-12-12T00:05:00.000-08:00

I'm a little ashamed at the recognition that I've started evaluating a man's "Potential Datablity Factor" in accordance to the Shoe To Pant Ratio (or PDF by way of S:P). It makes me feel a little too much like a boy who over dramatizes things and stands far too close to the unopened doors of the streetcar.
But I do it.
I don't do it often, but I do.
It all started the night that Mike tricked me into meeting Ezra. I had never done it before and immediately after doing it, I couldn't believe what I'd just done....

We had left "The Party" and headed up to The Artist Formerly Known as Late Night Bux. The three of us were sitting there chatting and laughing and I casually looked down at ......
no.....
wait......
there I go making up stories again (like the time I made up a story about Kelly in Powell's talking about Watchmen)

I actually did the S:P (or the curly haired guy sticking out his tongue) while we were standing outside of Le Party. I was determined to not get all sweaty and greazy in front of this cute boy who made me laugh and whom, thru the scent of bar surrounding us, I could tell smelled amazing (Gad, he was cute....). We were standing outside... Mike was sitting in a chair at a table, E was standing and I created the Hypotenuse.
I casually glanced down (we now return you to your regularly scheduled true story) thinking "Gad Ezra.... please have on decent shoes.... please.... and Please.... Please don't let you have Awkward Gay Length pants on.... Please oh please...." And he had neither. His shoes were ok and his pants were ok as well.

But here is where the rules come in:
At that moment, I was nearly sold on the Idea of Ezra. He made me laugh, he was able to carry on a functional conversation, he didn't feel me up, *cough*he was cute*cough*, and well... blah blah blah. Had I looked down and he were wearing tapered leg pants...... eh.... not so much. I would have preemptive dumped him right then and there.
But if, with his tapered leg pants, he were wearing an amazing pair of square toed loafers (almost always amazing on tall men) or something, I would have questioned his style choice since that didn't really go with the sweater he was wearing, but.... whatever... That would have kept him on the island for another week. That would have compensated for his pants.
Similarly, had he been wearing great pants with... like.... Chucks or something? EH........ again.... not so much. But clearly he is not Adam Brody. I would let Adam Brody keep his socks AND his chucks on during sects.
That's right.
I went there.

If he were wearing the AGL pants.... well... he could have been wearing the most amazing shoes, been holding a puppy and a dozen daffodils and then felt me up and that wouldn't have saved him.

If you know me outside of Bloglandia, you know that I'm nowhere near as superficial as I appear on Interwebs. C'mon.... we've all seen some of my exes.... I don't need to name names. I'm not the kind of girl who really cares about all that. Looks are nice and style is cool, but..... if I close my eyes, that doesn't matter. I'm no sucker for a pretty face. Or rippled abs. Or calves that could cut a steak from a block away. Disproportionate forearms though, that.... they'll get me every time.

That's why this doesn't make sense.

Just tonight, There was a 6 on the streetcar (out of 10). I noticed his 6 and raised him .5 for his excellent bag. Then, my eyes immediately went to his S:P. The wash was not the greatest... it was a little too light and a little too even. We're not talking acid wash or anything near it, but... they were just a little too light. They fit well thru the hip and leg... good good..... but then.... they were rolled... or flipped. Roll implies more than one fold. They were just a single fold. Things are not looking good for 6.5. But his shoes were on the good side of generic so that made up for the fact that he had rolled the wrong pair of pants for the bike that he was not riding. Ok. They weren't rolled Bike Style or even AGL style.
Because he rolled his slightly tapered pants, his ratio was increased, but because his shoes made it ok, it evened it out and he stayed at a 6.
Yeah.
Really.

Not related at all to the S:P is my 3 block escort this evening.
As I walked down the street, I was approaching two young guys talking. One was short and hipster, the other was taller and trying. They parted, to my horror, just before I got to them and Trying walked right next to me. I kept my head confident and kept walking. "Top of the evening to you." He said, tipping his hat. He was headed my direction so we walked and talked and it was actually pleasant. I expected to be creeped out by Trying, but he was nice. Eventually, Trying went straight down to the park and I went left to the street car. I said goodnight, he said goodnight, then turned and blew me a kiss.
And it wasn't creepy.
It wasn't necessarily romantic and there was no anything there, but..... It was nice that random Nice Boyishness was not creepy.

Love Is.....

2008-12-10T12:44:00.000-08:00

...manifesting itself in the form of Watchmen.

Love.

June 3, 2006

2008-12-09T23:08:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure if you really wanted to know the exact moment I fell in love with you, but.... I needed a post and you needed a response. So here it is:
I can't tell you the exact moment because it was the entire day, but at the beginning of the day, right before you came down the stairs and opened the door in your I ♥ Tofu shirt, you were a blog friend that I was meeting for the first time.

But after I left with my bag full of free stuff, freshly off the high of V For Vendetta, having walked nearly a billion miles and broken into large back yards, I knew that you were a friend that I would never want to be without (awwww.....).

As I said in my blog from that day, you didn't treat me like a girl who was on Forced Administrative Leave from her marriage. We were just friends hanging out. When Seth did come up, we talked normal, not preparation. I had cried enough in the past few months and you gave me a day of hanging out without crying.

Except for the Sting cd.... that made me want to shed a single tear.

So, my dear Tabitha.... that is the (almost) exact moment that I fell in love with you. And now... tonight.... I looked at your pictures looking for one that illustrated the You I See, and I realized (again) that you are, indeed, one of the most amazing, beautiful (inside and out), smart and talented women I have ever met and having you as a friend kind of amazing.

Your parents should be proud.
Freal.

Hearts, Stars, And Clovers,
am

You're Killin Me Smalls Insomnia

2008-12-09T01:24:00.000-08:00

While its true that I haven't been to bed at a decent hour in nearly a month, its also true that tonight, I finished Danae's hat. It varied a little (as in... quite a lot) from the pattern, but... I kinda like it. I'm a little bit proud, actually. I nearly mastered 5 different stitches all on my own (well... with help from the intrawebs, but still) and if I weren't giving it away, I'd keep it for myself, buy some furniture, and give the cat a name. The name would still be Akira Grasshopper Nijinski, but... that's not the point.

Having finished The Hat before my official invitation from Ravelry comes in, I'll have something to put on my profile. This was really my motivation for finishing it. Forget that whole "Good Lord, Arwen... would you just finish a project already?" or "You know.... you should prolly get this done before school is out for Christmas..." No. The motivation was "Don't be a sucker. Finish it before Ravelry e-mails and Anna starts asking questions."

I have another plan for another thing that I plan to start in the morning. I think this one will be significantly easier and quicker. But no less awesome, I can guarantee you this, my friends....

And when I finish that one, I will go to sleep at a reasonable hour after I post the results.

Good~~night~~morning...... and god speed.

iVerb

2008-12-08T11:39:00.000-08:00

I janked this from Aaryn over at thematically fickle and ... well... yeah. That's about it. Read on, Reada.

I live my life with intended purpose, but I have nothing to show for the things I have done and that is a huge disappointment.

I work because I get bored. But I don't work. And I'm bored. Very, very, very bored.

I talk because I know that if I don't, you will think that I'm rude and that I don't like you. But the truth is, I'd rather you talk because I like the sound of your voice.

I wish I had a shred of motivation to get rid of these saddle bags and the spare tire.

I enjoy making my own soy toffee nut lattes with no foam and sitting in front of the computer to write a blog that has as little purpose as my real life.

I look like I'm a wild and crazy girl, but really I'm tiny and afraid and timid.

I smell the flowers in the yards of complete strangers when I go for walks. That's right. I take time to stop and smell the roses. Litchrally.

I hide nothing even though I consider myself a private person. I'm really out there on a giant silver platter.

I pray. I wonder why those bumper stickers aren't some sort of copyright infringement. I hate them and I really do think they're stupid.

I walk when its clear. I put on my headphones, turn on the My Morning Jacket, and start walking. This is also an example of the remnants of my late teen/ early 20's Invincibility Complex.

I sing all the time. In attempt to get over my shyness about singing, I sang the shit out of some Karaoke on Drew's birthday. It didn't help.

I can tell you the exact moment I fell in love with you. All of you.

I watch travel shows on PBS and wonder if I'm less cultured because I don't really want a nomadic life. Travel, as a life style, doesn't interest me. There are places I would like to go and things that I would like to see, and I even a little bit envy Lisa for all the ballsy travel that she's done, but I would rather stay home.
And watch it on PBS.

I yearn for the kind of love that thrives on presence.

I daydream far too much these days.

I want pork chops. I've wanted pork chops and brown rice for the past 3 days and its killing me that I can't have them.

I cry at everything. When I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm stressed, when I'm proud, when I'm embarrassed, when I'm tired..... everything. I never cry for no reason.

I read a little bit of everything. Unfortunately, I fall in love with books and I read them repeatedly rather than finding a new book to love. When I finish "Death With Interruptions" I would really like to read "East of Eden" again. Its been a long time since Steinbeck and I had some time alone together. But I would also like to get another Brautigan because that man...... something about those tigers by the river and the candle light on the bridge....

I love being a girl. Even though I'm not a girly friend, I'm quite a girly girlfriend. I love snuggles and hugs and kisses and holding hands and drawing hearts on tiny notes I leave. This does not work in my favor since the girl that you are friends with is not the girl that you're in a relationship with. But I still love it.

I wonder who I would be if I had lived up to my potential. I mean, that isn't to say that I've all of a sudden died, but..... I feel like there are some opportunities for growth that I have missed. I used to be able to draw. Quite well. Then I quit. I can write like a muhfugga. But I don't. I cook tasty treats. But I don't. I enjoy running (when I can do it). But I'm tired/ cold/ busy/ sick.

I touch my unshaven legs and remember the first time I shaved and how smooth and glorious my legs felt. It never feels the same and I sometimes consider letting my leg hair curl before shaving it just to get back to that place again.

I hurt when I can't like everyone all the time. That's right. I consistently feel bad for not liking people.

I fear that my dad will get Parkinson's and Alzheimers and when he dies, my mom will not be able to handle it and then when she goes, I'll be alone.

I hope that things start looking up soon.... for all of us.

I break promises with myself and then justify it with wrist tattoos that tell me I have no one to blame but myself.

I eat not nearly enough.

I quit dairy out of necessity and I miss it every time I eat anything that should have cheese on it.

I bathe every day out of guilt because if I don't, I've failed at my day.

I drink either water or soy toffee nut lattes. Rarely anything else. I've two unopened bottles of wine, an ancient bottle of Barenjager, and a bottle or Sailor Jerry Rum on my counter and they remain untouched because I've not got a mixer and I've not got anyone to come over and drink it with me.

I save the notes that my mom sends me because they are reminders that even though she doesn't say it often, I know she loves me and misses me and that helps when things get hard.

I hug very rarely, but when I do, it says "I love you and I'm glad I've got you in my life." And sometimes, when I outright ask for a hug, its because I'm incredibly stressed and sad and hugs from boys always make me feel better. Any boy.

I miss spending time with Jess and doing craft projects or watching movies and folding laundry or just talking or just..... hanging.
I miss jess.

I forgive on the outside far easier than I do on the inside.

I’ve learned that I am, every day of my life, my parents' daughter. I'm exactly like them both. Nature vs Nurture.

I have no sense of direction if the Columbia River is not within reach. Really. While in Idaho, I couldn't tell you which way was up because I didn't know where the Columbia River was in relation to where I was.

I don’t have enough books. end of story.

I kiss by the book.

I wonder if I'm actually going to get sick or if I'm just going to continue to have this morning congestion and scratchy throat for the rest of my life.

Hugh's Ton: We Have A Problema

2008-12-07T21:27:00.000-08:00

You prolly remember the time I told Danae I would make her a hat when, in all actuality, I had never done anything like (wait... there's a Lost commercial on... amazing.... can't wait.... please hold.... ok. we now return you to your regularly scheduled blog already in progress) that before. Well..... I've been pluggin away at it and looking up movies about how to do a double stitch and the proper way to perform a puff stitch. I felt like Hansel getting the files out of the computer ("itsallsosimple!"). Today, after breakfast (sesame bagle toasted with butter from Noah's= bomb.com!) and while Ezra and Anders played their car game, I sat on the couch and did my old lady crochet thing because if I had come home, I would have done just what I did when I got home: dishes and blogging. Not very productive on that second part.

Anyway..... While with The Boys, I made it to my first Puff Stitch Row. The first one was pretty rough, but second.... stellar. I was on a roll. I pumped out 2 rows in a little under 30 seconds. Ok. Not really, but it was quick.

Now I'm hooked (O.o. see what I did there?! I didn't even mean to!). I'm going to use the original Danae yarn (it was too puffy for the size of the hook that I had) for a scarf and its going to be amazing.

Its all building up to the point when I start making scaflettes like the big huge chunk there at the top. On the same list, is this hot little number here in the grey. SWEET JESUS I LOVE THEM!

I think I may have a momentary addiction. I just want to crochet a metric shitton of cool stuff. I may not even make it to learning to knit.

I also saw this cute little hook pouch that looks like the little case that you put your make-up brushes in, only its sectioned for your crochet hooks.
... I might want to make one.

Dear Ted,

2008-12-07T16:50:00.000-08:00

I hate to do this cause we've had a good run, but I'm calling off the "Ted & Robin" comparisons. Thanks to your insecure self centered-ness/ities, I have had to make a list of "Things I Don't Talk To Ted About". I even wrote it on a napkin. In McClaren's.

Ok. Not really.

But I could have written it on a paper towel at the bar in my kitchen (my kitchen in my shitty apartment that is 10x better than yours, by the way)(yes. I'm still angry)(i hold monumental grudges. if you had read all of these as you told me you did, you would know)(and I also think you would have confronted the Super Secret Valentine's Date thing)(but that's just me).

On with the story:
The list of things that Robin can't talk to Ted about shouldn't be as long as it is. In fact, there should only be a few things on it.

But when Robin is having a bad day and just needs to vent a little bit, you should at least be willing to pretend to read what she is sending you via the interwebs.
Robin doesn't need solutions.
She doesn't need you to buy her anything.
She really doesn't need you to say "Aw".
She just needs you to (pretend) to pay attention for a second.
Remember that time she did that for you? ALL those times you had issue with Blah Blah and Robin was patient with you even though she was so sick of hearing about it and you refused to do anything about it (eventually Robin cracked and told you to stop talking about it, but that was after what.... like 3 months of hearing the same story)? Robin still listened. Still.

Why, just last week, Robin was having the worst day of her life and just wanted to talk it out in order to convince herself that it wasn't that bad. She texted you up. You, in one swoop/ text, turned it around and made it about your shitty day.
again.

Well Ted, That was almost the last time.
The one that just happened like.... right before you went to the Library to get Chinese food? THAT was the last one. No longer are you Robin's default and there will be cats and non-lactose-free milk drowning incidents. This season was the last. The network didn't order any more episodes and the show has been canceled.
I mean.... there's still going to be re-runs and there will still be the option to buy The Limited Edition Collector's Set with Exclusive Back Stage/ Behind The Scenes Content, but.... we won't be making anymore episodes.

And another thing.... Don't expect me to ever EVER talk about Barney and I'd like it if you didn't either. I've noticed the pattern that every time I show signs of what could be interpreted by some as enjoying Barney's company, you come out with some ground breaking information. That information really makes no difference between Barney and Me, but it really feels like you're trying to sabotage. I am not down with that, and quite frankly, neither is Barney. But that's between you and him and its old news.

So Ted, that's it. Its like the Colonel Stuck-In-My-Teeth episode... things don't have to be strange. They don't have to be sad or woe is you. Just know that The Age of Robin and Ted is over.

See you when I get back from Argentina with Gael.

Peas,
~~Robin~~ am

ps: thanks for noticing: no, Neil Patrick Harris doesn't have anything to do with the post (except for the mention of "Barney".) But hey. Whatever.

Want

2008-12-06T15:54:00.000-08:00

...And Why Do I Smell Like Bong Water?

2008-12-05T23:21:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure why I feel compelled to tell this story, but.... well.... its kind of a "This Is My Life" sort of story.

Tonight, Ezra invited me over to join him, roommate Anders and BFF Traci. Dinner, movies, friends... good times. It partially got me out of my funk. Partially.

But anyways.... we're eating. We start with a small salad... quite tasty. I ate a very small amount of Feeta and.... I hesitated a little but thought, somehow, that it wouldn't be an issue.

There was a creamy garlicky peppery sauce on the asparagus that was so tasty and creamy and tasty. I thought nothing of it.

"It'll be fine" I say to myself. "I'll be fine."

As the end of Waynes World came up (The Scooby Doo Ending, to be exact), I got punched in the stomach. And then whoever punched me, grabbed my intestines, pulled them out, set fire to them, stomped on them with golf cleats, and then put them back in neatly in their place.

But I was fine.

"I'll be fine."

It happened 3 more times before I nearly passed out.

"I'll be fine."

Finally, I realize that if I don't leave NOW... like.... now NOW, there's no way I can make it from St Claire to Marshall and then home "Safely".

I stand up, take my wine glass to the kitchen and emerge on the other side and motion to Ezra that 'I'm out'

"I have school in the morning, so I should get going...."

I'm in the clear. I can take off my heels, and RUN thru NW Portland in hopes that I don't fully embarrass myself.

At this point, you're probably asking why I didn't just "take care of it" there in the apartment. And the answer is, I went on a scouting mission. The bathroom had no fan and no candles and no nothing that would down play the results of my actions.

So I had to get out.

As I said, I was in the clear.

"Can you give Traci a ride home?"

I panicked. Hard.

"Yeah... No prob. We'll have to walk down to Marshall though...." I, in my heart had no problem taking her home. But I was hoping, for the BOTH of us, that she would say "Oh.... No... that's ok. I can walk. Its cool."

But nope. She was willing to walk to Marshall.

Shit (but still... cool.)

My coat was on, my scarf was wrapped, my heels were on. I was ready to go. Hugs were hugged, thank yous were said, and then......

Traci had to show Ezra the Woo Girl/ Sven episode of HIMYM.

"WOMAN! ARE YOU KIDDING ME! I'M ABOUT TO KILL MYSELF AND EVERYONE IN THIS APARTMENT IF WE DON'T LEAVE RIGHT NOW!" (This is where the Harry Picture comes in) (and obviously, I didn't actually say this.)

Finally, we made our way out into the hallway.

"Do you know if there's a restroom in the lobby?" I asked casually.

"I'm not sure. We can go back in if you have to pee...." She replied.

No.
This is much bigger than that.

Things were fairly chill until we hit 23Hoyt.

Lets just say, Thank god for the 1234 bathroom code at The Ram's Head.

And why do I smell like Bongwater?

I read a book in middle school called Bongwater and I don't remember what it was about. I also read one called Vurt and it was amazing. I plan on looking both up immediately after posting this blog. Jeff..... Noon? Jeff something.

That's it.

I'm feeling a little awkward about posting my "troubles", but... phuket. POST!

Post-Post:

I just looked up Bong Water and Vurt. I hardly remember Bong Water from what Amazon had to tell me about it, but I remember that year I was very into books set in Portland and that one partially was. Another one I read was Girl. That, I KNOW was by Blake Nelson because I went to school with Blake Nelson. He stabbed me in the finger with a pencil. Maybe that was Wilson. I don't remember. But I know it was a different BN. Not the author BN. Anyways, upon looking up Vurt (Jeff Noon was correct), I was reminded of his other two, EQUALLY AMAZING books, Pollen and Automated Alice.

I read some really awesome books between 13 and 16.

The One With Cat And The Song

2008-12-04T23:17:00.000-08:00

Before I get started, why can't Akira be sweet like Cat? Hmm? She sits on me while I sleep, she snuggles next to me. She lays on my pillow next to my head. SHE BITES ME! Cat never bit Lula Mae/ Holly. Never.
Maybe its because I own my furniture and gave her a name.

On with the story.

If you've seen VH1 in the past 20+ years, then you know that "Breakfast At Tiffany's" by Deep Blue Something is widely accepted as the worst song ever. Of all time.
They say that it doesn't make sense.
I fell for it.
But today, it came on and I listened to it for The Inherent Reminiscent Value.
It TOTALLY makes sense! She's breaking up with dude cause they have NOTHING in common! He's a heartless bastard who isn't willing to try....
And then he says "What about Breakfast At Tiffany's?!"
It sparks a memory.
"As I recall... we both kind of liked it....."
"Well... that's one thing we've got."
I mean... come ON! Maybe its because i'm so fragile and depressed right now, but that seems pretty nice of him to know, in his heart, that he and this girl have something in common, even if it is something as small as a movie.

I guess if I had really cared, I'da looked it up on Wikipedia because if you go look at the entry for the song, its pretty much what I've written here only with lame graphics.
But really,
....
How I Met Your Mother is on and I got distracted and now I've completely lost my train of thought.
I'm stuck on Neil Patrick Harris' abs.
sorry.

4.8.15.16.23.42

2008-12-03T23:54:00.000-08:00

So it seems now that my unofficial nablopomohohoho is over, I don't feel like I owe you a new blog post.
Go figure.
Actually, I meant to do one last night, but I got pre-occupied with more pressing matters so I submitted resumes until 1am. Then I remembered that it was Tuesday (or Wednesday at that point) and that I actually had to work in the morning.
So then I went to sleep. Woke up in a completely stressed out angry and hopeless mood.......
at 4am. Couldn't really get back to sleep because I was so stressed.
This is not the first time its happened.
This week (meaning the past 7 days, not like.... since Monday).
All week I've been freaking.
Can't sleep. Don't really want to eat.
Just want to.......
*sigh* (in fact, I don't even want to sigh)
I don't even know anymore. I'm done being all sunshine and flowers and bows.
I'm about to have that conversation with my parents soon where they confirm my beliefs that they are horribly disappointed in me as a human being and a daughter (Dad brought it up tonight when I called).
I'm guessing that my dad will be all like "So.... what can we do to alleviate this negative cycle of financial insecurity that you've been experiencing?"
And I might just hang up and wait for them to call me.
So after I have the first line of this conversation, I may never speak to them again cause, God knows, they would never call me.
Once again, I'm not living up to the plans that everyone has had for me since I was 2 and I seem to be letting down everyone involved.
Dear Diary,
I actually kind of hate my life a little bit right now, so until something happens to lighten that up, I might be a little.........
lame.
saury.

but not dino saury.

Dear You,

2008-12-01T01:35:00.000-08:00

Wow.
I haven't thought of you with any real emotion in quite some time. I mean, I just told Drew yesterday about how we would split up Thanksgiving and Christmas because of the time constraints of school, but... that wasn't really "thinking of you" thinking of you.

But tonight, I thought of you.
You ruined Drew's birthday.
He got pretty drunk (as boys are wont to do on days like today) and he then disappeared outside. You know what I thought when Josh asked if he'd left? "Oh Gad.... Drew prolly went outside and started a fight with a bum"... I doubt Drew has ever fought in his life. You know who would pick a drunken fight with a bum? You.
You would pick a fight with a bum, be so drunk that you get your ass beat, and then you would call me and I would come to your rescue and make myself sick worrying about you.
You know what urge I'm fighting right now? The urge to call Josh or Jrobb to see if Drew made it home alright and if he's sleeping in a manner that would allow him to clear his airway if he happened to Bonham. I want to call Josh just to make sure that the three of them aren't in jail because Drew had to pee so he did and got caught.
I need to convince myself that not all drunk people are you. Not all drunk people are going to say mean things to me and then apologize the next day even though they don't really know what it is they said.
You ruined Drew's birthday, asshole.

It also occured to me tonight on my way home while I was writing this in my head, that I forgot your birthday. Not only did I not remember it and think of you on that day, I've just straight up forgotten what day it is.
I know its in November, but that's about it.
Unfortunately, I still know your social security number. If it didn't have such good rhythm, I'd forget that too.

Thanks For A Great Night,
Arwen

My Life Up To This Point Has Been Meaningless

2008-11-30T15:09:00.000-08:00

You know....
I'm really starting to look forward to Sunday mornings... Though its not a cemented day, there's a pattern and I thoroughly enjoy this pattern.

This morning we made breakfast (french toast) and watched Wall-E.

SWEET JESUS! MY LIFE HAS BEEN CRAP!

I remember seeing the preview way back at the start of the Indiana Jones movie and some people said they wanted to see it, but... never saw it. That thing was amazing. I kid you not. And on top of it, my Viewing/ Breakfast partner has some low grade ADD and must do something while sitting. That something? Me. I mean.... not me me, but.... I got foot rubs while the movie was on and then.....

oohhh....

then I cried.

That's right. I cried and I hate myself for it. I tried so hard. I tried so hard that my lip started quivering as if I were sweet little Laura Ingals. And that was more embarrassing than crying, so I just let it flow. I mean... COME ON! HIS MEMORY GOT ERASED! HE DIDN'T REMEMBER HER! THEIR HANDS WERE MAGNETIZED!!!! Her little robotic voice saying "WwWwaaaAlllllleEEeee?"

Gad I was a composed wreck.

After the movie, I was formally introduced to Robot Chicken.
Again: SWEET JESUS MY LIFE HAS BEEN CRAP!

I don't know why I haven't watched this before today. I love Seth Green. I love him enough to have his initials tattooed on my body. Ugh. Amazing.

Now, I sit here with my short soy no foam toffee nut latte (and just for my own piece of mind, that IS correct in my book because when I was taught, toffee nut lattes were TNLs, not TN in the syrup box and L in the drink box. so suck it.) watching Dirty Dancing preparing to work on crocheting--- oh wait! that reminds me! I have to go get new yarn! crap. I should have done that on my way home-- Danae's hat WHICH I figured out how to do so I'll make it right and HIGH FIVE! (niiiiiice)

I love Sunday.

Beautiful. Is That Maya Angelou?

2008-11-29T22:27:00.000-08:00

You're looking at this pic and you're saying "Pfft.... you would..." and to you I nod and say "Yes. I would... and I have."

I had a Scarecrow once. I mean, he was never my Scarecrow, but I called him Scarecrow and he actually played him at one time. I have since lost all everything with him and, while I'm not necessarily ok with this, I'm also not exactly torn up over it either.

I may have a lion. I'm not sure. I have to look into the situation a little more. He's honestly my least favorite character. He's kind of a whiner and annoying and a little high maintenance. Even though that badge of his says "Courage", I don't know if I necessarily believe its in there.

Tin Man.
Ooh Tin Man. I was actually unaware until Thanksgiving that I had one, but once he said that he was TM, I knew.

"I think I might be giving birth....."
"Ugh. I know right? I'm going to go home, put on my pj's, lay on the couch, and watch The Wizard Of Oz."
"That's ... what? That's kind of random."
"Nah. Not really. Its my Default Movie. I love it. I watch it all the time. Can't get sick of it."
"... Are you Dorthy? You are, aren't you."
"Yeah. Kinda."
"I'm Tin Man."
And though he explained, he didn't really need to. It was clearer than the skies after a twista... a twista!
Though it OBVIOUSLY has not quite gone the way I had hoped it would go, I sure am glad that Tin Man is around.
He's good people.
And he can shoot steam out of his hat while he dances and I'm so into that.

Guest Blogger: My Hormones

2008-11-28T12:13:00.000-08:00

I had a whole blog planned about "The Cling". I've several people who have a bad case of The Cling. But after I typed it, I was not down. So I erased it and put this over the top. There really is no good way to go about the "You really need to back off and stop humping my face/ ear/ leg" conversation. Well, for me there isn't. I've got one of those big fat gooey hearts so I just play along and then finally I fill with so much uncontrollable rage that I snap and say everything that's been building up for so long.
Here's the Gist Of What I Don't Do:

Hug. If I haven't seen you in a billion years (ie: randomly ran into Jordanna, her mom, and Mat at 23rd & Hoyt a few weeks ago. Hugged her because I haven't seen her in months) I will hug you. If I just say you yesterday, I will still hug you, but I will log this in my "Things That I'm Over" journal. We may hug upon departure because its not as strange, but..... if you don't wanna hug, I'm down with that too. And if we do? Don't make it such a long hug that I start to wonder if you're going to start crying. Unless you're a boy and I just might be in love with you. Then Hug away, my dear. Hug. A. Way.

Stevie Wonder hit of yore: I Just Called To Say 'I Love You'. Its not me. I don't gush at you. I'm not a girly girl. I'll say it if I'm in love with you or if you do something completely ridiculous like send me Dr. Tran, but I won't like.... mean it mean it like "I love you! Let's get married! and have lots of babies! and a dog! and a little garden! with tomatoes! and! peas!" I'll mean it like "I sure am fond of you. I'm glad we're friends". I'll say it if you're 3 and you laugh randomly and say "You're the funniest girl in the whole world" or if you're just barely 1 and you flash your tiny little "I Love You" sign at me when I leave a room. THEN I'll say "I love you." So basically, if you're the child of Ryan and Jessica Woods, I'll say it. But if we're friends? Don't. Please. It makes me feel like we should go to the mall and then share a banana split and snuggle. Again, if you are The Object of My Desire, and you ~~think~~ are pretty damn sure I might feel the same as you, go ahead and say it (because I typically do. I fall in love quite easily). We can then have that banana split and snuggle while watching a good movie. Or a bad movie. I don't care.

If you don't have anything to really talk about, don't call me. I don't like sitting on the phone and just...... sitting. I didn't call you, you called me. Please have purpose behind your call. Otherwise, I will tell you smart assed stories that I KNOW you're not interested in. This is what texting was invented for.

Link Arms While Walking Down The Street. Sometimes, actually, this is ok. For a moment. A QUICK moment. And only every once in a blue moon. If you want to do it all the time, you should know that I don't like you that way. I'm not down with the girl on girl action and that's what all this touching reminds me of. And if you have a penis, I'm still not into it. Again, unless you're TOoMD. In that case, I'm more of a little hand holder than an arm linker. Maybe your arm around me, but my type is typically much taller and then those walking PDAs are a little awkward, so you can just skip it if its easier that way. Unless we come across a Past Flame. In that case, claim me. Claim me right in front of him/ her and make it subtle. Don't suck my face. But you know..... make sure they know they are so yesterday's news.

This list had a few more items, but then I realized that they weren't really Cling, they were things that I have logged into my above mentioned file. There's a few more things that constitute The Cling, but I've already re-written this so many times that I'M starting to feel The Cling in myself.

Please don't be angry at me for this blog. I'm not a bad person and I'm a good kid. But today is the first day of that wonderful time in a girl's life and I needed to blog something for NaBloPoMo (which I didn't actually "register" for but I'm so participating by default) and this is what you get.

Happy Red Friday, Suckas*

*sorry. that was kind of vulgar

The Burger Was My Face

2008-11-27T20:24:00.000-08:00

Tuesday at work, I got some of this. Some of both. I figured "pfft. how great could it be". You see, this little bucket is roughly $46. I saw this and promptly thought "dear god, are you kidding me?" but i got some ... as gross as it sounds, its really not... leftovers.

Originally, the plan was to pick Ezra up at 11 today and hit the local grocer and then head to his moms'. That got bumped to 12:30, so I had a lot of extra time to waste. I thinks to myself "self... what the heck," I says. "Why for how come you don't try out that masque"(my internal dialogue is a delicate mix of pretentious butthole and schmuck). So I put it on. It says it should get a little warm and to leave it on for 10 minutes.

5 minutes, I felt nothing.

5 minutes 34 seconds: my relish covered face is on fire. Not unpleasant fire, but like... that fire that just lightly licks and kisses a burger? Yeah. The burger was my face.

I got in the shower and "gently scrubbed with a facial cloth", peeked out of the shower into the mirror and holy HELL I looked like I slept in the sun for 3 days. I was so. red. (but not in pain)

The bucket said it would last for roughly 2 hours so when I got out, I placed some of that moisturizer on, not because i HAD to because my face was all tight and ouch, but because I felt I should in the nature of "skin care".

After that, no lie, my skin has NEVER looked this good. Never.

I get compliments all the time that I have such good skin. The other day some lady told me I had flawless skin, but she didn't have her glasses on and I had just freshly applied some of them thar BareEscentuals. In my head I pointed out all my scars. Outside, I smiled, blushed, and said "Thank You... I just started using the Escentuals and its doing such wonderful things for my blah blah blah. Buy some crap so I can get commission."

But anyways, I didn't want to put on make up! My face was so smooth and even and satiny and I can also tell you that my makeup stayed on all. day. long. All day you guys. It might even be worth the monumental price tag cause I only have a little bit, but its going to last me forever.

I might be in love with real skin care. Even more: ORGANIC skin care.

Gad I wish this were a real job.

The other thing I'm loving: the Pure Radiance color from BareEscentuals.

As an overall, I'm still not completely sold on the line, to be honest. I'm not sure, yet, if its the right sort of thing for me because of the coverage I require and how dark I do my eyes, but.... hooo doggie. This PureRadiance of theirs rocks my world. I love that shit. It a "Not A Bronzer" bronzer. I love it. I'd marry it if I weren't already married to Lost.

The other one from them that I am completely in love with and I put on immediately when I get to work:

Luminous Lashes. Good lord have I saved the best for last. AND, I was just on the website and saw that they have SAPPHIRE! OH GAAAAAAD!!!!

I know what you're saying.

You're saying "Arwen.... you do NOT wear gold glitter mascara. Do you then pick up Dirk Diggler and go to da club? Cause seriously. 70's Coke Queen or WHAT." and to you I give a golf clap for the Boogie Nights ref, then I say "Eh... naa."

Its actually amazing. Its more of a top coat for your mascara.... and its AMAZING! It just gives your lashes a little *glimmer*, not a glitter. People told me that my lashes looked like they had tiny beads of water on them... and when I told them "oh no... that's my mascara" they were amazed.

I love that crap.

It makes me feel fancy and pretty.

Three Majorly UnRelated Stories That Are Kind Of Related

2008-11-26T22:12:00.000-08:00

This morning, while I was waiting to turn off of MLK onto Lombard on my way to work, Winona's Big Brown Beaver came on the radio and, to my pleasure and pride, I still know all the words. I realized that I don't really actually like Primus because they're kind of messy and... janky, but I LOVE Primus because a lot of their songs are "Everybody Solo" kind of songs.
And I'm into that.

I was looking for a picture to illustrate the next story, but "David Spade Buh Bye SNL Skit" didn't turn up the caliber of picture that I was hoping for. Instead, I came up with "Sorry About Your Diarrhea Beaver". Which is much better, I think.

Finally, now that I'm a receptionist (or at least I played one at work for 2 days out of the month), I came to the sad realization that I can either accept or deny, but I'm a "Mmmk... Buh byeeee.." kind of girl. It makes me sick every time I do it, but I can't help it. I feel it brewing in the back of my throat like acid reflux or that time we climbed the rope in gym class. I try to hold it back... tell myself I'll say something better and less Perky. But it always comes out... "Mmmkkk..... Buh Byeeeeee."
Ugh.
I need a shower.

Eyes > Skills

2008-11-24T17:37:00.000-08:00

I told Danae I would make her a hat.

That I would crochet her a hat.

I decided on this one.

I've never made a hat before.

I'm scared.

The Truest Test of Friendship

2008-11-23T17:48:00.000-08:00

Setting:

Biscuits on a sunny Sunday morning.

The avenue is packed, police are on the scene. You know what I mean.

A tall good looking young man (Ezra, we'll call him) with hair that really should just be buzzed with a #2 by the girl at Bishops, sits across from a bad ass looking little girl with a fauxhawk (she can be Arwen) at what has been identified as "Their Table".

Between them is a sea of potatoes, chicken fried steak, hash browns, panclocks, and eggs.

His blue coffee cup is brimming with The Darkness and her Orange Juice In Honor of Anders is roughly half full.

Or half empty.

Depends on who you ask.

The Topic At Hand: Mortality and White Sausage Gravy.

We enter mid conversation....

Ezra: ... whatever. you would totally lick gravy off my face.

Arwen: actually, no. i wouldn't. maybe if you shaved. but no. i wouldn't lick gravy off your face.

Ezra: ... so you're saying that if i were dying and the only way to save my life was to lick gravy off my face, you wouldn't do it?!

Arwen: heck no! if i'm not going to lick sausage gravy off your face, what makes you think I'd lick highly poisonous gravy off your face. i like you ezra, but i'm not willing to die for you just yet.

Ezra: ...... oh.... well... i didn't really think of the gravy as the catalyst, but that's a very good point. you'd at least hose me off or something, right?

Arwen: well of course. i'd toss some orange juice on it or something.

end scene.

Many Routes, One Summit

2008-11-22T20:45:00.000-08:00

Every few months, I hit a phase of recurring places in my dreams. There's not really themes or even people, but its typically places. Sometimes its a Shell station that has a very very large warmer oven and full bakery of pastry delights on the shelves as if they didn't get crusty.

Sometimes its Yellowstone (most often its Yellowstone) where the Paint Pots don't smell like sulfur and they're all bright colors and there are pools in the forests and you can walk right up to the edges of them. Its mostly forest but its deep dark forest with fire flies everywhere. The Yellowstone River is darker and not as wild (I quite often drown peacefully in it).

Sometimes there's a place in Southern Idaho that looks like Moscow but to the north is a combination of The Tetons, The Sawtooths, and Mt. Nibel and I always pass it on my way to the visitor's center in Yellowstone. Sometimes I make it to the park and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I get turned around in one of the snowy campgrounds and i have to stop at one of the picnic shelters along the way.

Sometimes there's a theater that looks the way the Chuck E. Cheese on Powell used to look only huge. There are doors and hallways and its like a giant fun house only its not so fun and there are very small spaces that I get nearly stuck in until I find the giant center room where Anthony Michael Hall is building a giant super robot.

Sometimes there's a place so amazing that I don't even know how to go into what its all about.... imagine Minas Tirith on Endor but not on the side of a mountain (wow. That was nerdy) (quick sidebar: there's a closet at the VCoC and I tell Jones that Shelob lives inside. He knows she's a spider, but once he starts having nightmares about giant talking spiders with caves filled with anything BUT wonder.... hoo boy am I in trouble....). That's the best I can describe it, really.....

Most often, Jones Creek comes into play. It comes into play enough that I'm partially convinced that some of these aspects of it actually exist (even though in my right mind, I know its impossible). Typically, in the JCD's, as you head down the hill and you come to the bottom where you make a right turn to go across the first bridge, you can actually end up in another small town where there is a candy store that makes the best french toast you've ever tasted. Before you get to this town though, you can head up Winter's Rd which will lead you to a very very large field of rocks.... Almost moon like. If you walk far enough into the Rock Field, there is a Red Mountain in the distance. Its close enough to walk to, but too far to go just now. Between Winter's Rd and The Nonexistent Jones Creek Town, there's a right turn you can make that takes you up a very steep hill where the trees slowly fade and you're on top of a very large, very dusty, very red mountain. There is a visitor's center for the war heroes at the top, but its often so crowded that you can't get in, so you may as well not even bother. Walk just past the Visitors Center and there, in the middle of more Red Mountains of dirt, is a stone spire coming out of the depths of the very earth I've come to believe in.
The spire always involves a family trip no matter if they came up the hill with me or not. We always make it to the spire in no time and there is an incredibly creepy howling wind surrounding it. Its such a strong wind that we have to use carabiners and ropes to keep from blowing off the sides, and eventually, the top.
This spire doesn't exist.

Oh wait.
It does.
And that's a picture of it right up there. I mean... its not red, but that is it.
I was watching Globe Trekker and the girl that wasn't my favorite guy was planning to climb the Matterhorn (I'm reminded of the Friends Episode where Chandler-- i think-- says "You don't go to Disneyland and spend all your time on The Matterhorn!" and I think "I rode The Matterhorn 6 times when I was in Disneyland...."....). While she is still in the Italian Alps, she climbs the Via Ferrata (Iron Way) where you have to clip onto an iron cable and climb iron ladders and use iron steps to make your way across the mountain. Near the end of this part of the trail, they come to Campanile Basso di Brenta: my previously believed to be fictional location.

I don't know if I've maybe seen this before and just completely forgotten it in my conscious mind or what, but.....
you have no idea how completely freakin freaked I was when I saw it.
Its like opening a closet and finding Shelob inside.

How Is That Even Possible?

2008-11-21T22:48:00.000-08:00

Remember when we used to steal things from boys because we liked them? We would sit in 5th period with their sweatshirt on smelling the hood while trying not to be obvious? Most often, and most easily stolen, was the hat....
ooooh the hat....

hats always smelled so good... they were a good combination of clean hair, sweat, and his house. oh how I loved to steal hats...
This afternoon, there was a boy and his friend on the streetcar. He was tall (but not Jewish) and his jeans fit just so and had tears in just the right places. He had his curly dark Adam Brody hair covered with the hood of his green... hoody. If I hadn't made the assumption that he and his friend were from out of town, I would have expected them to get on the streetcar at 11th and Couch rather than 22nd & Lovejoy.

I loved him.
I wanted to steal something from him.

His friend was kind of greazy and kept talking deep philosophical anti-consumerism pro-environmental bullshit and I'm pretty sure he lit up a doobie right there next to me. Despite this unfortunate association, I kept him in my heart. Right there next to the Wooden Unicorn and the "Word Nerd" pin from my failed attempt and desire to go to Wordstock this year.

I secretly pined for Green Hoody Non-Jewish Tall Boy in a way fit for an after school special of some sort. Ok. Not really. I didn't want to stalk him and like... murder his cat, but he was cute. Cute to the point that I should have smiled at him rather than avoiding anything that could be misconstrued as eye contact.

I looked down to read a text (and reply to said text) and upon looking up, he had removed his hood.

And he wasn't that cute after all.

Believing The Hype

2008-11-21T14:59:00.000-08:00

If you know anything about me, you know that I'm so above The Hype. You know that I very rarely feel a movie is worth seeing in the theater, I still haven't heard "Narrow Stairs" more than what is on the radio, and don't even get me started on food. I'm just over it.

Somehow, I get this reputation for knowing what the hell I'm doing. For the most part and most of the time, I honestly don't have a clue.
At school, one of the teachers gives little mini back rubs to students who are stressy and whatnot. Know how many I've had? None. When I confronted (nicely, of course) on this matter, another teacher came back with "You're just so well put together that you don't need it. You're not stressed out...." LIES! ALL LIES!
Last night, I had not only my first appointment, but my first girl cut (that wasn't just a trim). I was left alone most of the time because people just have this assumption that I know what I'm doing. I WAS CLUELESS!

At work, I would get "forced" into these leadership roles that I didn't necessarily want. I mean, I didn't shy away, but... people ask me stuff that I don't know the answer to because they assume I know what's up....

Now, I don't mind this, but..... Its really starting to set me up for failure.... I don't so much care that other people see me as failing, but.... it seems that I start to believe their hype about me and then when I don't meet their expectations, I'm screwed... even though I'm right where I know I am.
Making sense?
sigh.
I'm kind of getting in a rut.
:( sad face.

Cop Out Post..... OR IS IT?????

2008-11-20T23:55:00.000-08:00

As I have mentioned before, every Friday, Ezra and I hold ... um..... I send him AMAZING unicorn pictures and he praises my Google skills as if they were real skills that people (who aren't me) desire.
Today, as a pay back (I'm assuming) for all of the stellar pics I've sent him, he sent me three very magical things that, in all honesty, forced me into a place where I had hoped to not be: I professed my love for him based solely on these three videos.
They're like three wise men arriving in the night to gaze upon and lavish a newborn king with gifts of smell.
Behold.... The power of 3:

if you stick with them, they are truly amazing. I mean... seriously.... Vortex? Algebraic? Hot Dickings?
you life was so incomplete before this moment.....

Midge WIth The Assist.....

2008-11-19T23:30:00.000-08:00

AND ITS GOOOOOOD!
(Let me just give a little tip of the hat to the Seinfeld episode that's on right now. Its the one where Kramer snubbs the girl that Jerry went on 3 dates with and she wouldn't kiss him goodnight. LOL. Oh the comedic timing.)(ps: PGE park is not grey. Its green.)

Today I had a small, quick outing with the kids. We stopped by the Dutch Bros to take advantage of a bangin coupon that Ry had acquired thru 'totally legal means'. Jess was driving, I was in the passenger seat, kids in the middle, and Ry was waaaaay back in the back seat. Pretty much in the trunk.
Now, the young man who came to the little window was a lil cutie. So not my type (because he was clearly straight and clearly not Jewish), but still cute.
And ooooh did he like Jess. He was givin her the eye.... hoooo doggie.
She was talking to him placing her order and periodically turning to talk to Ry. The boy kept up with the softcore flirting and, because I know Jess, I know she was completely unaware.
I seize the moment....
I turn half way and say, quite loudly "UGH! Ry! WORST HUSBAND EVER!" and we all laugh.
at that point, Jess' new boyfriend leans in and sees Ry and changes everything.
Cute Hippie Boyrista: 0
Team Martinez Woods: 1

Every other Tuesday at school, we have a "fun day". Its pretty much a day for us to do each other's hair because the teachers are spread rather thin on that day and its easier to check in on us rather than staying in there and giving us all of the attention.
We're ok with this.
This has been happening for the past 2 months.
On these nights, guess who gets asked to do someone's hair.
Guess who gets asked by multiple someones' to do their hair.
Guess who does her hair.
The answers are as follows: Me, Me, NO ONE!
I'm only a little bit whining because I do their hair on those nights and I don't get extra anything for it. I go in early, get my hair done and get hours for it... So really.... I'm just being a brat.

AND......
I am officially on the floor and I will be needing something to do. That means you. I'm ready for you. Your free haircut option is officially expired, but now, when you come to me to get your hair cut at school, its still only $6. So either call the school, call me, e-mail me, or comment and come get your hair done. Cut, color, PERM (heck yes), whatever. Even if you just want me to wash your head.... Please. For the love of God. I'm begging you: Don't Let Me Be Bored @ School. And if I find out that I have any appointments from a certain person who just won't stop, I will be cancelling it, so don't even think about it.

This COULD Be My Life....

2008-11-18T15:43:00.000-08:00

What you are about to read is the best myspace bulletin I've ever posted. I think you'll know why by the time you get to the end.
Or maybe I'm just really bored and easily amused right now......
1. Opening Credits:
I Know Its You
. :Crystal Method: .
[this could make for quite the delightful spy opening.... yano... if i were a spy i mean]

2. Waking Up Scene:
Turn Me Loose
. :Loverboy: .
[oooh.... this is when The Lady Killer (thas me) wakes up and demands that her sexy and powerful (but not as powerful as she) Man Lover from the previous night "Get The Hell Out"]

3. Car Driving Scene:
Southside
. :Moby: .
[ahhh.... here we see the Rich As F>ck Lady Killer return to her roots.... on the south side of town....]

4. High School Flashback Scene:
Black & Gold (Sanna & Piltron Mix)
. :Sam Sparro: .
[Here, we can see small signs that TLK is bound for Greatness In International Espionage.]

5. Nostalgic Scene:
Happy Valentine's Day
. :André 3000: .
[The boy who broke her heart beyond repair and drove her to the loose moral aspect of her job]

6. Bitter, Angry Scene:
Machine Gun
. :Portishead: .
[TLK unleashes a world of pain in a hail of gunfire and tears....]

7. Break-up Scene:
I Need A Girl (Part One)
. :P. Diddy: .
[There once was one man.... one man who could tame her wild heart, but he just didn't understand the demands of her job and she was far too stubborn and scared to surrender her heart to him....]

8. Regret Scene:
The District Sleeps Alone Tonight
. :Postal Service: .
[She gets up after having empty sex with her latest victim and looks at herself in the freakishly flattering light of her Parisian hotel room.... Is this what she's made for? Can she continue to lead such a fabulously lonely life? She just wants to be loved........]

9. Nightclub/Bar Scene:
Policy Of Truth
. :Depeche Mode: .
[And yet, she goes out again the next night to continue her mission.... what she has declared to be her last mission. No more. She's done. She knows that in movies, this means that she's going to die because that's always what happens when spies are on their self declared last mission, but she's hoping it will be different in real life.....]

10. Fight/Action Scene:
Its My Life
. :No Doubt: .
[Oh Shit! Ninjas! In Paris! In a night club! Who would have thought it! Fighting ensues and eventually ends up as a boat chase in a tip of the hat to Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade. TLK wins, of course....]

11. Lawn Mowing Scene:
Cheeba Cheeba
. :Tone-Loc: .
[... cause you must be high to think that TLK is going to be mowing her own lawn. Bitch, Please.]

12. Sad, breakdown scene:
Carondelet
. :Ruby: .
[Oh Gad.... she can't even mow her own lawn. She can speak 14 different languages fluently and she can even make a quiche blindfolded, but she can't even mow her own lawn. She may, or may not, look into a puddle on the side of the road and as God who she is....]

13. Death Scene:
Big Time Sensuality
. :Bjork: .
[its beautiful and tragic. but we all knew it was coming. we're not surprised.]

14. Funeral Scene:
Low
. :Flo Rida: .
[In a farewell to arms, all of TLK's homies from the old hood come in and her funeral turns into a good old fashioned booty shakin time. Tears are shed, words are said, but in the end, her death-- on her final mission to rid the world of those pesky Cancer causing Ninjas-- has brought those from all walks of life together. Its beautiful and you shed a tear.... a single tear....]

15. Mellow/Pot-smoking Scene:
DMV
. :Primus: .
[apparently, this is a Quentin Tarantino film and there is no respect for a basic time line. TLK is on a past mission to bust up a drug ring and, much like Keanu Reeves in "Point Break", she must befriend a group of Pot Smokin Hippies. She smokes with them but doesn't inhale. She's been spending the past 10 years on a boat off the coast of Peru working up a tolerance to THC. She then kills em all.]

16.Dreaming About Someone Scene:
Mouth
. :Bush: .
[It is for this scene that the movie has an 'R' rating.... DURTY!]

17. Sex Scene:
L'Arena
. :Ennio Morricone: .
[This is the moment. You thought she was dead but she's not. She is now re-united with The Only One She'll Ever Love while in a large public square in Spain. They make love for 3 days straight without pain or swelling. Its beautiful and tastefull and it means something. Its the best "Love" scene in cinematic history.]

18. Contemplation Scene:
Zombie
. :Cranberries: .
[This is her chance. She nearly lost him 12 years ago and now..... on the eve of her death... she must choose again. With his non-spy-but-equally-effective status and her skills and stuff, they could disappear forever the way they've always wanted... but those Cancer Ninjas..... All of Humanity, or her own heart... The eternal struggle.]

19. Chase Scene:
Ring Of Fire
. :Johnny Cash: .
[Love truly is a fiery thing..... and she has chosen it. But not without making arrangements with her trusted confidant, Professor Chang. She has entrusted to him the task of eradicating the Cancer Ninjas and their Head Honcho, Sensei Han Cho. She hops in a suped up Karmen Ghia and she and The Love Of Her Life speed off as significantly less supped up cadillacs chase after them]

20. Happy Love Scene:
Sweetness
. :Jimmy Eat World: .
[Aliens have blasted the Caddys and all is right in the world. There is kissing, hugging, loving, and Steve Perry. That's right. Steve Perry. Oh. And there's chocolate Yoohoo.]

21. Happy Friend Scene:
Sugar Sugar
. :Mary Lou Lord w/ Semisonic: .
[You may also like to know that this is also the scene where TLK, TLOHL, and all of the desert animals have a choreographed dance number that takes us to the credits. You have seen the likes of it no where before. Not even in Grease.]

22. Closing Credits:
City Of The Ancients
. :Final Fantasy 7: .
[What better way to end it than with the music from the best game ever made? Not only that, but during the point in the game where the LAST Ancient is about to be killed by Sephiroth? I mean... sure... as fate would have it, she must die, but..... what if she didn't? What if Aeris lived.... if you ask me, even if Aeris lived, I'd still have Cloud end up with Tifa.]

Its Begining To Feel A Lot Like......

2008-11-18T12:42:00.000-08:00

Oh Danny Kaye.... My kind of lovable jokester... And of course he is.... according to Mike, all I want in life is a tall Jewish man. But seriously folks. This is about The Holidaiyes and how, right about this time, I start to think maybe I want to give in.

On Saturday, I was in Miss Sandy's classroom working on my finals. She had on Christmas music and it was glorious. I had mentioned to Ezra earlier in the week that I couldn't wait until after Thanksgiving so I could start listening to CM without feeling guilty. Then Sandy had to go and ruin it all. But I enjoyed it. Hearing 15 different versions of the same song is kind of my thing (seriously. most of myTunes has the suffix "Remix").

Last night, we had "practice" for our fashion show in December. We listened to Christmas music again. LeeAndra is a Bahumbug and said that the only reason she's doing Christmas stuff is for her daughter (who is almost 2). I can respect that. That's ok.

Then.... this morning.... I woke up and turned on Ol Bessie (my espresso maker) and started steaming my soy. Mid steam, I realized that I used the rest of my ground Espresso Regalo. Seeing as I still have a counter of beans, I picked the least embarrassing sac (also my third fave after the ER and the BEST-- Casi Cielo)): Sumatra. I threw on my flip flops, the jeans I was wearing last night* , my Cubbies hat, and my blue North Face fleece and set out to the end of the corner.

Everything went according to plan and I remembered that I'm almost out of that nasty cinnamon syrup (nasty because it was discontinued about a year ago, but hey--- its sugar. It doesn't go bad). So I bought some Toffee Nut because its cheap and I love it with soy.

So here I am.... sitting listening to Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, and Burl Ives sing the same song drinking my double tall toffee nut soy no foam latte from a Starbucks Canada cup and loving every second of it. I want to go get a Christmas tree the first weekend of December. I want to go to the tree lighting the night after Thanksgiving in Pioneer Square. I want to bake cookies and fudge. I want to cook a turkey. I want to wear little Christmas plugs. I want it to snow and I want it to NOT be ok that I'm wearing a single layer and flip flops. I want Dean Martin to always sing "Marshmallow World". I want Bing Crosby to give me a little knight on a white horse behind the Christmas Tree. I want to teach you that Bumbles bounce. But I don't want anything to do with Burgermeister.
No thank you, sir.

*those pants.... it seems that I forgot that, on the way to take LeeAndra home in deep NE last night, we stopped at Taco Bell (cause seriously people..... filthy good) and I happened to drop 1/2 my damn burrito on my lap. So I didn't check the pants when I put them on.... I FORGOT! So I went down to Starbucks passing people all the way, with Beans, Cheese, and Red Sauce all over my crotch. Awesome.

Closeted Fruit Fly

2008-11-17T21:45:00.000-08:00

If you know anything about me, you know that I'm a bit of a FagHag.... There are few things I love more than a good old fashioned gay man...
Today, on Regis and Kelly, Miss J was on to teach Kells and The Reeeeeeg how to strut.... Model Style. I've only seen Miss J in the context of other models, so it never occurred to me that he was FREAKIN HUGE! I mean... seriously! I know that Kelly is small, but.... the man was a monster next to her! (I just Wiki-ed Miss J and.... did you know that Tyra and Miss J have been friends since Tyra was 16? Damn... they go way back.... he started directly onto the catwalk for Jean Paul Gaultier? Who does that!?) But... It was just shocking to see him next to a normal person. He's MUCH taller that I thought.... he doesn't have tall kid features, yano? He is very well proportioned.

And Jay Manuel?

Don't even get me started.

This had a connection to something, but I can't, for the life of me, remember what it was....

I'm going to plug in my headphones and hit the bike downstairs.

I have to.

I've been telling myself that I'm going to wake up early and go for a run.

And I don't.

So I say I'm going to go when I get out of school cause I am so jacked up on caffeine.

And I don't.

So I should go down there now with my book and Tiny Dancer Jr and NOT freeze and just get it started....

That gaddamn 10 Year Reunion is, in the grand scheme of things, not that far away and..... I've got shit to prove.

Not really, but.... I just need to get rid of this crap.

Mayor of the Friend Zone

2008-11-16T15:08:00.000-08:00

Friend Zone. What a place to be.

I don't know how many of you have ever found yourself in the FZ, but I can promise you that its not nearly as many times as I've found myself there. Typically, I'm pretty pissed to be in the FZ. I hit it fast, and I hit it hard (ZING!) and I typically stay there. Forever. It was first brought to my attention, sadly enough, a while back when someone made a comment about me and a former Tri-Force member. That was actually NOT a FZ situation (it was more of a Way Out Of My League situation), but he saw it as one. He is the one who told me that I get there too fast. I need to avoid it at all costs. True dat.

Now, it came up today. Today, though, I'm ok with being in the friend zone. I want nothing romantic what-so-ever from this one. But it just drives it home, one more time, that I'm doomed to be alone.

(this chat has been edited to fit your screen and to run the time allotted)

i love you, you know that/. . .one day i'll get all emo and cry and tell you why. . . honestly, you're everything i always wanted from my sister as a friend and confidant. . .and its sad that i love you so much as a friend and i couldn't love you that way as a girlfriend. it makes me feel extremely awful that i couldn't make that leap because you'd be the best thing to ever happen to a very lucky guy

Yeah yeah yeah. I've heard it all before. "You had it right when you said you were the coolest chick I'll ever meet. You really are." "You're the most amazing woman I've ever met." "You'd be the best thing to ever happen to a very lucky guy." "I'm going to keep you until we can't remember each other's names." "I don't really have any other girls that I can really talk to about this shit." "You're fuckin awesome!" "No I've never kissed Arwen! She's like a sister!" Blah blah blah (its also a damn shame that I have that talent for remembering exactly what was said in a conversation. Even one that was roughly 11 years ago)(DOUBLE TRUE!).
Is there some situation where, just like girls have some jacked up attraction to Bad Boys that guys actually WANT a girl with drama and hang-ups? Is that my problem? Should I start being outwardly crazy? Would that help? I mean.... not that I'm actively pursuing anything right now, but if I were, would that be the answer?
I just think its funny that I always hear the same thing from the Non-Creepy guys. Always. The. Same. Thing. I've started playing a game in my head to predict which line they'll use when they drop the FZ Bomb.
So far, I'm winning.

Sweet. Fancy. Moses.

2008-11-15T22:23:00.000-08:00

I needn't say anything.

ZOMBIE DANCE!

2008-11-15T19:48:00.000-08:00

Sometimes some things are always funny.

Always.

And I'm not just talking like "Oh... tee hee... I giggled". No. We're talking tears, pain, a little pee sneaking out.... the full blown Scooby. This video is that for me. Zombie Dance? WHO SAW THAT COMING!? I mean seriously people...... shit don't get better than that.

I finished my finals today so I am officially out of that phase. I'll soon be on to the faces and the nails and that sort of crap. Yay. I'm excited. I'm also sarcastic.

and out of things to blog about.

but tomorrow or maybe Monday? THAT will be better because Mike bought me Sukiyaki Western Django today and whenever I go down there to pick it up.... I will watch it and be a happy little girl.

The end.

I Am A Visitor Here; I Am Not Permanent

2008-11-13T14:02:00.000-08:00

Roughly 15 minutes ago, I opened up myTunes to listen to some... well... tunes. Last night, That One Guy Who Has Been Named In The Past 3 Posts And There4 Won't Be Named In This One turned on some back ground music. What does he choose? Only one of the top 10 best of all time: Give Up (ouch). We sang at each other and it was all good times. It had actually been a while since I'd listened to the entire album all the way thru... and it was good. Still (pfft... like its been a out for a billion years or something).
I, at first, claimed "The District Sleeps Alone" to be my favorite Postal Service song. But then, as my real favorite got closer, I remembered that, oh yeah, Natural Anthem is actually my favorite.
We're now back to 15 minutes ago.
I heard it only twice last night and that meant I was ready to hear it another 10 times before I go to school. But when I opened up my DCFC/ Postal Service play list, it wasn't there. Well.... I went to myMusic and..... it wasn't there either! MY FAVORITE PS SONG IS GONE! I don't know when or how it disappeared, but its gone.
I'm not really enraged. I'm hardly even mad. All I have to do is just go download it, but..... its the thought that counts.
I wanted to listen to it now. And if that song is gone.... what ELSE is missing?!
*sigh*

Infiltration of The Temple Of Doom For The Purpose of Magic. Pure Magic.

2008-11-13T09:28:00.000-08:00

Hey Guys.
What's up.
Cool, cool.
Yeah....
So.... uh.... What'd you guys do last night.
Cool.
Yeah...... I uh....... I..... well....... I waited in line with Ezra, Traci and Anders for the newest Warcraft add on (or something like that).
No.... its ok.
I understand.
Its been nice knowing you. If you ever change your mind, drop me a line.
G'bye.

So......... Yeah. About that. I was without computer yesterday so I had to make notes about what to tell you (I really did. I sat on the bed while E played his game and we chatted and took notes about the things I planned to blog). Imagine these are hand written:

LeeAndra & the bevy of hot, available, Asian men at the Chinese New Year
Poor, poor Ezra.... has a drunk girl on his bed and is playing Warcraft instead.... So close... and yet.... so so far.....
"I've never had this much eye contact from men in my life!" walking down the line with Traci
Entering the Temple of Doom and witnessing magic.... Pure Magic.
I owe Ezra and Anders so much TP...........
Shot of Jack & Coke from Origami Paper Cup.

So lets start from the top.
1) I walked into the break room and LeeAndra was standing in front of the microwave holding a flyer for the CNY celebration in January. "We're going to this." she said. I paused...... "Are you thinking what I'm thinking...." and she got a slight smile and said "I don't know.... what are you thinking?" We both giggled a little and then she said "Yeah.... you're thinking what I'm thinking."
"You're thinking there's going to be single hot Asian men at this thing, aren't you."
"Mmmhmm." (and we laughed.... and laughed....)

2) Well.... That's pretty much self explanatory.... I mean.... E's a good kid so even if he weren't Geeking Out, nothing would have happened, but I thought it was funny because while we were in line, I mentioned to Traci that its interesting that all of the guys are either really "NO...." or "Heeeeyyyyyyy....." There really was no in between. She agreed. We also (kind of) joked that we were the best looking group of people there (terrible. I know) and *brushes shoulders off* I went home with 2 of the hottest guys in the line. I rolled around on the bed trying to not be drunk, Anders played some zombie game and Ezra played WLK. Yep.
This is my life.

3) Traci had walked down the line to see if there was anyone she knew and when she came back, she mentioned the feeling really hot thing. "Every single guy checked me out. I'm HOT!" She offered to have me "Help Her Look For Someone" and as we walked.... I swear to you right here and now.... I have never had so many guys make eye contact with me at once. It was awkward and delightful all at once.

4) At some point last night/ this morning, Ezra summoned zombies? To attack a chapel? I don't know but he said it was Magic. Pure Magic. So I believe him.

5) I have a tendency to break the seal quite early in my evening. If you know what I mean, you know what I mean.

6) We're sitting at the Cheerful Tortoise and E gives me a card and shouts (in an implied way) "ORIGAMI! GO!" So I get to it. It was a thick card, so I just made a cup. A tiny cup. I then took a tiny shot of my Jack N Coke and slammed the little paper cup on the table in celebration.
Yeah.
I'm a bad ass.

So that was my night. I got home at 8:45 this morning after roughly 2 hours of fake sleep. I have to now go do laundry, figure out what I'm going to wear to my job shadow and then go to school. Ugh. Lame.

Well Well Well....

2008-11-11T23:48:00.000-08:00

Its been quite some time since we've heard from our dear old friend/ INCESSANT ANNOYANCE IN MY LIFE, David. You remember the incident where in we all laughed at him because he called himself "F*ck" on my chatbox. Yeah... that was great. Well, my friends... before we get to the happy parts of my evening, I must-- once again-- take time out of MY life to try to make this bastard leave me alone (cause I'm sure he's still lurking).

Dear David,
If I wanted to be your friend, ever, I would not have said the things I have said to you. Granted, I have not said them to either your face or your voicemail, but I was there all through high school and I'm certain, to 100%, that you know how to read. When you message friends that I haven't spoken to in quite some time and ask them to make me like you again and when you request friends of mine that you don't actually know, it makes me hate you a little bit more and wish I could work a restraining order into the mix somehow. But, alas, I cannot. And I haven't the heart to put a hit out on you.
So please. For the last time. Leave. Me. Alone.
Thanks,
Arwen (Doesn't Want David In Her Life)

Now.... to what this post was originally supposed to be:

I FINALLY got some Ezra face time tonight. That kid..... I sure am fond of him. We laughed and drew and chatted like we always do and it was good times. He drew a picture of a wine glass wearing a thong and I showed him the difference between my hands....

"See this left one? Nice. Clean. No scratches. This right one? Look at that! Its insane! Akira only attacks my Midge Rage Hand! I think she's out to get me!"

and he, in all of his glory (much like that of Ticken Wittle) explained to me that she is not attacking out of anger; she is, in fact, keeping The Rage in check. If left to build and build, my Midge Fury could erupt from my fist and destroy all of humanity. Akira knows this. Her feline intuition can sense it.
The other amazing thing that came out of our Coffee Break (and this is good...)?

Every Friday, I send Ez a unicorn. Once it was Tron-icorn. Another time it was a unicorn eating a bowl of glitter. He repays me by telling me that I make life good (pfft). But tonight.... tonight he came up with a plan that is more amazing than anything I could have ever hoped for.

His contribution to Unicorn Magic Fridays?

He's going to start drawing me unicorns.

Oh GAD I can't wait.

When The Big One Finds You May This Song Remind You That They Don't Serve Breakfast In Hell

2008-11-10T00:08:00.000-08:00

Bruce Campbell has NOTHING to do with this post. Not even a little subliminal something to do.

In class on Friday, we did this little thing where we had to write 6 traits that we posses on strips of paper. I wrote

unique
understanding
funny girl
empathetic
laid back
honest

We then had to line them up in order of which traits we were most proud to have. I said

understanding
empathetic
honest
unique
laid back
funny girl

Who likes what they see. Almost everyone raised their hands. I was pretty much ok with it. We then had to flip over the bottom 3 traits. This left me with understanding, empathetic and honest. We were asked how we felt. Most people felt that they were incomplete and not themselves.

I felt more productive and more mature.

We were asked to flip over a random strip of the three that were turned over. I went for Laid Back.

My productivity just went down.

And it continued to go down.

How is it that I took 6 traits that I'm cool with, put them together, and I'm a slacker? Hum? Tell me how that works. I don't think I'm a slacker when they're all together. I think I'm a good time. But you take away those bottom 3 and all of a sudden, I'm makin it happen with or without The Cap'N. Slowly add them back and it goes down hill until they're all together again and then I'm good. I'm me. I don't get it. I wish I had a puddle on the side of the road to gaze into....

psst..... bruce campbell.

awesome.

Sad State Of Affairs

2008-11-09T16:03:00.000-08:00

Its now 4:44.
Today I have:

eaten a piece of toast
baristatized a double long shot soy no foam cinnamon mocha
changed my blog
become very angry that I can't find the correct comment code for said changed blog
wondered why I have the live version of "Rock N Roll" because it sucks
realized that iTunes is one of the greatest inventions of myTime

and... um... that's about it.
Oh. And

I changed my facebook and myspace stati.

I'm a little embarrassed that:

showering
putting on clean clothes
putting in my contacts
brushing my teeth

are not on that list.
But whatever. Its Sunday. I'll do what I wan.
and I still can't find the right code for my comments.
not that you use it anyways.......

The Un-Goldblummable Male

2008-11-08T23:15:00.000-08:00

"We have to Goldblum Ezra... We just have to." Mike said tonight.

"Don't you dare. Actually... I don't think you can. But don't try. There's no point." I was really lying. I thought, at that time, that he might be able to do it and that would have just been too much for the day.

Earlier this week, I successfully Goldblumed a Soft-Core Peripheral Crush (SCPC) when I noticed his hands. Got rid of that one REAL quick. His hands are just.... skinny... scrawny almost... and the nails... oh gad the nails..... Even when he is right in front of me talking to me, I can only see his hands and the nails.... oh gad the nails... So now that that one is gone, I can set another unsuspecting (and completely unaware thru the whole situation) young man for a good Goldbluming.

I decided on my way home that perhaps it was time to Goldblum Ezra. Nothing in particular, just.... I thought it was time.

So I started picking at every little thing that I could possibly have on him.
Nope. Couldn't do it.
Then I started thinking if there was anyone else that I couldn't Goldblum. I was overjoyed when I realized that, thru history and time, there have been several Un-Goldblummable Men.

I tried to Goldblum Seth. Couldn't do it. I even tried to use the janky hand thing that he did after 3 beers but before 6 (yes, I had his beers down to a science. I could smell the number of beers on him)(I know. Sick.). Nope. That didn't do it. Not even being an alcoholic could do it.

I thought about That Guy Who Has Been Popping Up In My Dreams Lately Whom I Haven't Seen In 6 Years and if I could retro-actively Goldblum. Nope. Couldn't do it. One of the original members of the TriForce can't be Goldblummed either.

I'm not really sure what it means when you can't be ruined. I haven't gone that far into my evaluation. Clearly its not love because Seth was the only one of the examples that I really loved. TGWHBPUIMDLWIHSI6Y, Seth and TriForce Member have a similar style and "Look", but E doesn't fit in there anywhere. TFM and E have some similarities, but none of them physical. I don't know. I'm not entirely worried about it because I'm so over it, but.... I need an explanation. I need to know why. And how.

Upon realization, I'll let you know. In the mean time, I'm going to actually keep trying to Goldblum those 4 boys (most annoyingly, TGWHBPUIMDLWIHSI6Y, because really..... if I told you who it is, you would say "Are you kidding me right now?" and you would wonder why) (nope. not Aaron. But you're in the right era.)
Good night.
And God Speed.
Oh. And I got the dirty Christian job.

Watchmen Is For Babies

2008-11-08T12:01:00.000-08:00

When Kelly was here, we bummed around Portland a bit and made our way to Powell's for some rousing ol book buying. I refused to go to the Purple Room because I love that little Eastern Facing Wall of Anthropology, so we stuck to the ground floor: Lit and Graphics.
Back in the Graphic section, we talked about my need for good art in a book. If I don't like the art, it doesn't matter how good the story is, I won't read it. Which is sad because I have a few books with great art and shit stories. But that's beside the point.
She looks up and says "Have you read Watchmen?" (and right here I realize that I've just made this story up because I remember her, now, asking me about Watchmen while we were in the park. But go with me.) and I hadn't. And I still haven't. I kind of don't even know what its about. I mean, I've got the general idea, but I really don't know.
Cut to two weeks later and Mike hands me a pile of books that he intends to sell back. He then pulls out Loaded Bible which is about a Jesus clone who fights zombies (i know, right?! AMAZING!). He also mentions that he has 3 copies of varying intensity, of Watchmen.
Bastard knows I want to read it.
Didn't offer to let me borrow even his airplane copy.
Bastard.
Cut to last night when Drew, Josh and I are sitting at The Rams Head and The Boys start talking about some book that they're reading. Drew pulls it out and says that he will let me borrow his paperback if I want to read it because he's not willing to part with his $50 hardback (which is understandable.... it was real purty).
"....How's your copy of Watchmen?" I asked with fake hesitation.
He looked at me, smiled and said "Funny you ask....."
AND HE PULLS IT OUT OF HIS BAG!
What are the chances that Drew has his copy of Watchmen IN his bag and ON his person at that very moment.
Well... actually they're pretty high since he needed it for a class, but still.
It was kind of awesome.
So I read the first 10 pages while the boys were out smoking.
Glorious.
Pure glorious.
So if you're starting to think about Hanukkah and what you might want to get me, think Watchmen. And Scott Pilgrim. And massage. And Dark Tower. And.... um.... a pair of these.
End Lame Blog.

Christian Bale is A Sex Bomb

2008-11-06T22:23:00.000-08:00

Remember the interview that I had today? I was a little nervous about it.... that whole "implying that I knew things that I don't know"... so.... I went (and re-fell in love with NE Portland). I had studied up on a line that they sell expecting a full on interview.
Oh.
Ha.
Funny story: I got walked around and the position was described a little more. Just as I was getting ready to leave, the owner came in and started freal interviewing me. Asked to see my resume. So the hiring manager pulls it out and Owner looks over it.
"Starbucks.... ok...... Assistant Manager... good.... That means you have initiative.... Vancouver Church of Christ. So you're a Christian!?"
Of course, I told her no... actually I don't consider myself to be a Christian.
Oh.
Wait.
No. That's not what I said.
I said "Yep. I am." and she said
"Well. Ok! That's all that matters. You pass my inspection! The rest is up to you." She said passing my resume back to Hiring Manager.
I actually felt..... dirty. Not because I said that I was a Christian, but because I didn't stand up for myself and say "No. I'm not."
Crap.
I'm going to take my resume to Old Salon tomorrow and I'm hoping that something will come of that before Thursday because I will have to skip school to go to the interview at un-named mail movie service with a predominantly red logo and I don't really want to miss any more school.
Sigh.
Oh to be me.

All Over The Place

2008-11-05T23:57:00.000-08:00

While browsing over at Derfwad Manor, I came across this little idea of 30 Posts in 30 Days for the month of November. I then checked my postings and realized that I had already posted 3 days in a row, so why not keep it going? Problem is, that whole "Not Much To Say" thing. I could go the general route and give my opinions about this election hubbub, but.... I have left my comments around Bloglandia and that's about the extent of my politi-talk.
Are you aware that I have 2 stars on the right side of my head? They were red for a night... then they turned orange... then blonde... then pink.... and now they're blonde again. I plan to get rid of them either tomorrow or the day after. I have decided that its time for me to have semi-normal hair again. I'm ready for a chan.....
whoooooo..... almost lost it there.
I'm ready for DIFFERENT hair. I'm almost sick of the mohawk. I'm really just sick of the grow out. That's all.
I have an interview tomorrow.
Another one next Thursday.

Neither are with vampires.
I'm taking my resume to the salon that I want to work in and I'm hoping that.... well... fingers crossed on that particular situation. Ideally, I would get the tomorrow job as well as the Finger Crossing job. Next Thursday.... eh.... the pay is good and its full time, but its temp/ seasonal and its in Hillsboro. Obvis I'm going to go to both (tomorrow is also temp... on call.... fill in... not a real job, but its salon and it makes sense. Thursday Interview doesn't make sense.)
Ugh.
I. Am. Job. (movie? anyone? anyone?)
Oh.
Here.
For the Next Thursday Job, which is customer service for an un-named mail movie service with a predominantly red logo, you are required to give a "Phone Audition". I got an e-mail that asked me to call a number (yes, a specific number. don't be upset that I didn't call you.) and answer this question:

What is your favorite or most memorable line or scene from a movie? What makes
it so memorable for you?

I thought about this.... I didn't want to go the stereo-typical route. I originally wanted to use the end scene from Kill Bill 2 when B is laying on the bathroom floor having every single emotion under the sun pour out of her face. I ran this thru the Mike filter and he said "No. That's Stupid." so then he started throwing out really stupid ideas (c'mon... if you're reading, they were bad.) and I went off saying that maybe I should use the scene in E.T. when they fly across the moon! I thought all night and finally thought of Breakfast @ Tiffany's when AH is sitting on the window playing "Moon River" but I couldn't really make it important to me. Finally.... Oh finally I came up with a slightly mainstream but still ok scene/ line: Rutger Hauer's lines about C-Beams and Attack ships..."All of those are moments lost in time... like tears in the rain.... time to die." I spewed some crap about how it makes you re-evaluate who is the bad guy in the movie and blah blah blah. I mean.... I really believe that and it really is one of the reasons I like it, but.... you don't want to hear me do something I hate (analyzing the text). In the original e-mail, it said that I will be contacted within 2 business days. So I expected to hear back tomorrow maybe.

Nope. 10 minutes later I got called back and ....

you know how when you're talking to your mom on the phone but you're also reading the phonebook and blogging so its just a lot of "Mmmhmm"s and "Yeah!"s? Well..... this woman was CLEARLY doing other things while she was talking to me. SHE was the one who was supposed to be talking! It was terrible! When interviewing someone over the phone for a call center position, you should at least be good/ decent at the job for which you are interviewing, am I right?

So.... Yeah. That's what's new in my life.

Tomorrow position? Ugh. Stressed a little bit. I may- or may not- have lead the young lady on the phone to believe that I know products lines and applications that I kind of may- or may not- actually know....

I'm hoping that connections will help me out on that one....

eek....

Its That Time (again)

2008-11-04T22:36:00.000-08:00

I know I've been telling you since the dawn of time that I'll be on the floor in 2 weeks, but this time, I mean it. Through a twisted amount of fate, I just missed the start date for my next class so I have to spend a month solid on the floor waiting for the next start date. This means I won't just be able to do your hair on Saturday. I can do it any day. I'm strongly shooting for the beginning of next week, but.... just to be safe, I'm going to say 2 weeks. So lets check our calendars..... This means that I am thinking I may be ready by the 11th. But just to be safe, I'll give myself an extra week just to be sure, so the 18th, I should be able to start.
That means you should come in and get your hrr did.
Please.
Cause if you don't, I'm bout to be HELLA bored.
Like whoa.
$6 for a haircut.
Seriously.
Come in.

(and when I'm cutting or coloring or doing whatever to your hair, please don't make that face... its really distracting and kind of.... mean.)

OH AND ONE MORE THING

(a small teensy next-day update)

(Tabitha: this has little to nothing to do with your comment, I swear)

While in school, I get credit for (and am required to perform) a certain number of services (cuts, colors, shampoos, makeup applications and such) so while financially, it would be beneficial for you to pay me to do your hair outside of school (for me anyways, as you will soon see), it won't help me school wise. It could even be more expensive cause outside of school, we will have to go buy stuff and my discount, while a discount, is still not that great (see... there it is). But if you come to school and get it done? Pfft... you're paying so much less than what we would outside of that little building.

Consider this :)

End Of Story

2008-11-03T11:50:00.000-08:00

I miss the labels I used to be able to show on my blogs.... Sometimes I consider going back to a "boring" and "non-personal expressive" template so that they can be shown... I guess I could go the route that 2/3 of the Woods Bloggers have gone.... that would give me my labels.... We'll see.

I'm not into The Plain White T's. I don't really like their sound which is funny because technically, they fit into everything that I require for a good band: Side bangs, acoustic guitars, skinny jeans... But I just feel like they should be touring with Maroon 5 and like.... The Rob Thomas solo project. That damn Delilah song is catchy, but really.... Its a little creepy. Creepy romantic like Lloyd Say Anything Style. PWT were on Regis and Kelly just now and they played another song that is "for a real girl" and.... I didn't like it either. I barely listened. But I have to say: I can appreciate that the lead singer/ they write real songs. They don't write generic songs that anyone could sing.... there's actually something behind it and its kind of nice. I remember how crushed I was when I found out that people have songs written for them. I lost a lot of respect for Tim McGraw as an artist when I found out there was no BBQ stain on his white T-shirt. So really, I suppose that The Plain White T's and I have a Wes Mantooth/ Ron Burgundy relationship. I hate them with every fiber of my being... but gaddamit.... I respect them.

Shawty Got Loose

2008-11-02T20:13:00.000-08:00

I took a couple of pictures last night.

Just a couple.

Just two.

We were in the car on the way home and I decided it was picture time.

The rest of the ride from Troutdale to SW was spent on me not peeing my pants.

So this is what I have to show for my Saturday night:

Traci wanted a picture of her legs in the awesome fishnets. I decided I wanted one too.

and

the one,

the only,

Handlebar That Rocks My World.

World rocked secondly by the expertly shaped sideburns that you can't really see...

so yeah. That's all I have to show for hours upon hours of drinking rum, brandy, and gin. Good stuff.

(so glad that Halloween is over)

(pss. I didn't vote for McCain and I'm not really a fan of how he's gone about his campaign, but I have to give him props for his newest slogan "Don't hope for change, Vote for it." Touche, White Haired Dude..... Touche.)

One Night Down, One To Go

2008-11-01T14:29:00.000-07:00

Nothing went particularly bad last night.... actually it was quite nice. Oh... except for the part where I only was able to get 1/3 of my costume ready before having to leave the house and then my feet hurt so bad by 7:30 that all I really wanted to do was come home and take a bath and go to bed.
So I did.
But this morning, I was so disappointed that Halloween wasn't over yet. Don't get me wrong, I'm totally excited about going to Ezra's Mom's Halloween's Party ('s), but... I so do not want to dress up. At all. I want to be That Girl. I told him I was just wearing my PJs, but I don't even think I'm going to go that far. I'm just going to run up to JoAnn and get a Styrofoam ball and paint it to look like a Poke-Ball (go ahead Jess. Laugh it up.) and let that be my costume. And I think that's ok. Because I say it is.
Funny thing happened.... I got my resume fixed (thank you GoogleDocs.) and then there were no more jobs to apply for. MAYBE a total of 6 sent out this week, one of which was a repeat, so really, 5 resumes.
Two calls.
High Five for Working Attachments.
Now I have to go.
Liar Liar is on and..... and I have a poke-ball to make.

I'm So Not Happy Right Now

2008-10-30T12:00:00.000-07:00

for some reason, I'm just......
yeah yeah.... go vote all that business, but..... why are these 7th graders telling me? Maybe its just Thursday and I'm just in a bad mood, but I'm not entertained.

I'm One of Them, but I'm Not One of THEM

2008-10-29T22:00:00.000-07:00

Before I get started, there's a story on the news right now about some house over in Beaverton that was selling drugs to high schoolers. People were just so.... there's good businesses... its a high school... they're just shocked that someone would be selling pot in their neighborhood.
Really?
You're shocked?
Then you're stupid.

On a similar, but completely unrelated note, and what this blog is actually is about: I love Portland. I don't love it in the way that some people do.... I don't love it in a "If you love Portland, then you love Hawthorne (I don't) and you love Powells (you know I do) and you love McMinnemans (I don't)(except for their ranch) and you ride your fixie with your Chrome Messenger bag (which you paid WAY too much for, I might add) and your side bangs flipping on your hipster glasses because they don't fit under your knit beanie."

I love it in a way that I fall in love with it every time I drive over the 405 bridge. I just fall in love. That's all. I imagine its the way parents love their children a little bit more when they're sleeping.... like you crack the door and just look at your little sleeping baby and fall in love. You know... like that.

Kelly and I were on the streetcar on Monday and we hit the stop right outside of Anthropologie (I'm also not a big fan of The Pearrrrrrl). She had never been on the streetcar, so she didn't know where were were.
"This is my favorite stop...." I whispered. "Its the Art Institute stop..." and she interrupted me with what I was about to say.
"*Gasp* Art School Boys.... I love them."
Mmm Hmm.
Love Kelly.
Love Portland.
Love AI Boys.

That's all.
I'm going to take a bath and go to bed.

Army of Ceramic Voodoo

2008-10-28T10:00:00.000-07:00

A few nights ago, I had a dream that I was an Indian (dot, not feather) woman with 4 kids and we were trying to get out of our haunted house via a recurring gas station. "Why do you have a recurring gas station?" you ask? Well.... that doesn't matter. The first of the 2 dreams was relatively boring. I mean, as far as escape thrillers go, it was pretty good. But the sequel.... that's where the magic happened.
Or the Voodoo I guess I should say......
I was trying to get those kiddies into the bedroom where they would be safe and I heard this little ceramic tapping sound.
I look down......
and there.......
coming toward me.......
is an army of tea cups cursed with the voodoo of India.
Now, I wasn't awake. Not in the sense that sometimes when you're dreaming late in the morning you can kind of manipulate things? No. I wasn't there. I just knew I was dreaming. I knew this was the sequel. And apparently, I knew what was coming. Because real me says to Dream Me "Hold on.... watch this....."
and Dream Me takes a copy of "Guns, Germs, And Steel" and starts crushing the teacups.
And oooohhhh.... that was so ironic and funny to Dream Me that it .... oh it was funny.
Real me, though, was a little disappointed in what Dream Sense Of Humor found amusing.

Warning: Contains Lots Of Adult Language That I Won't Apologize For

2008-10-25T00:22:00.000-07:00

1)Roughly 3 weeks ago I emptied my Yahoo Sent Mail Box. Just because. No good reason. There are currently 36 sent messages in it, all of which are submitted resumes and cover letters. Neither of which are anything ground breaking and amazing, but they're pretty effing good, I must say. You know what I've got in my Inbox? Nuthin. A whole lotta Nuthin. Capital N. Except for one e-mail I got yesterday evening.

Arwen- Your resume was blank. Could you please re-send it?
Thanks- Melissa

I re-attach and go on my merry way applying for every single effing.... no.... I've been doing this for a long time. I can say fuck.... Every Single Fucking Job that I can. I'm getting pretty down about no one hiring me. Or even being interested. They don't even want me to wash their dishes! This economy really is gone to shit!

Today I apply for a job that requests that my resume be in the body rather than an attachment. Open Resume. Copy. Paste.

Nothing... Copy.... Paste..... Nothing. COPYPASTE!

nothing

Open new program.

copy......

paste......

FUCK!

Open with GoogleDoc

Nope. File Corrupt.

WHAT

THE

FUCK!

Turns out every single job that I THOUGHT I applied for in the past 3+ weeks.... was all a lie. I haven't applied for shit. I don't know if I've ever been this angry before. In fact, I think this is the first time that I've really been angry. I wasn't sad. Not disappointed. Didn't feel stupid. I. WAS. PIST.

2)I was able to get ready for school a little early (on account of my not having a job) so I decided to satisfy my extreme craving for a sammich by going down to Subway. It was good, but...... Wow. I really miss the Moscow Co-Op. I miss it bad. Or even Pita. I had my first Pita with HUMMUS rather than cheese..... Bomb. Dot. Com. Once you go hummus, you'll never go back...umus...

3)Next, I decided, thru my logic and sanity, that I should wear my boots to school tonight. That would look good. Boots, dark jeans, green shirt. Good times. But wait.... I've been in bed for 3 days and I've eaten about 400 calories in those 3 days... total. But I didn't think about this until it was far too late. I get ready to turn onto Northrup and there's the streetcar. I missed it. Shit. Luckily, the next one was only 2 minutes behind. But one stop in, the driver comes on and says "18th and Lovejoy is going to be my last stop. Everyone get the eff out." So I got out. It was roughly 5:00 and I was still forever away from school. Creepsters at the stop and I didn't want to wait there for 8 minutes so I walked.

4)on no calories and heels. I thought I was going to pass out. But I didn't. I got to school and all went well until my drugs started wearing off and I thought I was going to die again.

5)School is out and The Girls are headed across the street to get a drink. Remember that job situation? Yeah. Reason 1 that I can't get a drink with them. Reason 2: I'm due to meet Ezra at Bux in 1/2 hour and it takes 1/2 our to get back up to NW from SW. So I couldn't. I walk down to the streetcar and see on the reader that the car is blocked by police and won't be round for a while.

6), 7), 8)"Its a nice night.... I'll just walk up there."

Apparently I was high and I didn't remember the 5 blocks I walked earlier in the night.

9)Now... If we consult the above map, I started at A. Obvies (that's just for you, T). I walked several blocks in the wrong direction. In heels. On, what is now, 200 calories. And if you're anyone who knows anything about this lovely city which I have been known to profess love for, you know that Burnside is, basically, up hill both ways. In heels.
I couldn't breathe. I had snot building a summer home in the back of my face.
Finally I got to Burnside.
Eventually I got to Starbucks.

10)And right on time. 10:15, Ezra was set to be off work. NEWP. He was in late.

11)So we sit and the entire time we talked I had to fight urges to pet his head and .... torture. Pure torture I tell you. Whoever thought it was a good idea to simply give him Triforce Status was high.
Oh....
Right....
12)But anyways, on account of my stupidity in walking from school, my truck was still down with the streetcar. So I had to walk.
More.
From "B" street to "N" street.
You do the math.
13)All the while thinking of those gad damn lines.
14)Those fockin lines.
15)Sucker.
Horrible. Terrible. No Good (except for tea/ coffee with Ezra). Very Bad Day.