I thought I was at the bottom before. About 7 months ago. I thought that was it and it couldn't get any worse on many levels. I now realize I was wrong. There was further down to go, because I added gas to the embers and created a forest fire. This is the bottom, it has to be. This is the end of a long, slow, hard fall and the impact has shattered everything. And not just for me.
And what is left to do now, is climb. And that's all that is left. And I will. But that doesn't mean it will get better.
19 November, 2009
03 November, 2009
this about sums it up
I have been on an I'm-not-fond-of-religion kick lately, and this was presented to me today and pretty much sums it up nicely.
It's a little small, so click on it if you want the full treatment. This is why spirituality is one thing and is something I can get behind, but religion is just wacky.
22 October, 2009
lame update
Ironically, this could be an update on me being lame....literally, as I still have my broken paw and have, in the last 6 months, done nothing about it.
But really it's a lame update to explain in some way, my lack of posting. It's been a crazy time and recently, I had my computer among other things, pilfered from my apartment by what the popo's called an "office creeper". More on that later.
What this means to you, dear empty, vacuous space that a reader could occupy, is that posting will be uh...well...light, to put it mildly. I have no funds with which to procure another, so I will do my best to find the time and resources to regale you with my uninspiring tales of hyjinx and woe.
But stay tuned....I'll be back.
I hate it that I can't say that last part without thinking of the Governator.
But really it's a lame update to explain in some way, my lack of posting. It's been a crazy time and recently, I had my computer among other things, pilfered from my apartment by what the popo's called an "office creeper". More on that later.
What this means to you, dear empty, vacuous space that a reader could occupy, is that posting will be uh...well...light, to put it mildly. I have no funds with which to procure another, so I will do my best to find the time and resources to regale you with my uninspiring tales of hyjinx and woe.
But stay tuned....I'll be back.
I hate it that I can't say that last part without thinking of the Governator.
15 August, 2009
support, please
A few hundred years ago, there came an amazing invention. It was designed with support and comfort in mind and it revolutionized a gender. Suddenly women found themselves able to lift themselves like never before. The concept of high and proud took on new meaning and the phenomenon of the brassiere was born.
Over time it developed into the fantastic construction of stitches, wires, and hooks we now know today. It exploded into an entire multi-billion dollar industry for women of all shapes and sizes, all styles and fetishes. It took what is a basic need for every woman and made it interesting and fun and sultry.
You can get bras in virtually any cut or material, from size A to G (yes they have a size G), in solid, flowered, lacy, leopard print, cut out, demi-cup, full cup, air push up, water push up, chicken cutlet insert push up, smoothing, t-shirt and minimizing. And I have only scratched the surface of what is available to the delicate, xx gender. So why, o why, I beseech the masses, do so many women scoff at the usage of this fantastic and necessary unmentionable? (*hint*, this is one I truly do not have an answer for).
As an ample-bosomed woman, I can pretty much never go without this item, nor have I ever been able to, on a regular basis and certainly not without some other sort of safeguard in place like a strategically tightened strap or a shelf bra. This is not for fear of sagging, but really more in awareness that my girls are ahead of me every step of the way, and need some comfort and protection. However, I am of the opinion that none of us should go without. Not if you are small and perky, not if you are sadly pancaked, not if you are large, full and voluptuous. No, no, aaaand no.
See what the ladies don't seem to realize is that even if they are small and perky and their mini-jugs are not flopping and crashing into one another, they are still often heading in different directions, each with her own agenda. One says Statue of Liberty, the other the Empire State building. Uptown vs. downtown, and the little pencil erasers are there to let each passerby know which wants to go where.
See the thing with boobs is, they can't be left unprotected, covered only by a thin piece of fabric. Because when there's a nipple standing up, demanding attention, you can't help but look, no matter who you are. It's like a magnet screaming NIIIIIPPPPLLLEEEEE!! Avert your eyes! Try and look away, I dare you!
But you can't. Because see, even if they are tiny, they are still sorta saggin. And if they're not perky, which lets be honest, the lion's share are not, it's even more unavoidable, bordering on tragic. I see it all day and I cringe each time. I think to myself.....is this woman poor? No, she is carrying a real Gucci bag, wearing Louboutains and a well-tailored silk shirt. Silk, incidentally, is like a flashlight on the problem area, exposing not only the nipple, but the outline of the areola as well - a horrifyingly inappropriate sight.
Even the most construction-worker-y men I know, while they will admire this faux-pas for it's almost-skin exposure, will digress that it makes the wearer look like a twinkie dressed as an eclair. Trash in fancy wrapping. I wonder.....do these women not own mirrors or friends who don't let friends sag and flop in public? Do they not have mothers or better yet fathers, who see them in photos and say "dear god, girl cover those udders up!" I can only surmise that they lack all of those essential elements to a happy and non-humiliating life, or some caring soul would let them know of the embarrassment to which they expose themselves.
Another and less talked about issue here is that the woman who likes to let her girls run free, will most likely do this for the bulk of her adult life, destined to become that woman. The one in her mid-forties, who regularly dons the light-colored tank top, drawing attention to the race toward her knees, perpetually being run by her deflated fun bags. She still thinks she's hot.
I can only pray that at some point, the fashion gods will rain down hellfire and brimstone on the shunner of the great, womanly supporter. Eventually, they must all fall into line. I think even Gloria Steinham will be with me here. Lock 'n' load, ladies.
Over time it developed into the fantastic construction of stitches, wires, and hooks we now know today. It exploded into an entire multi-billion dollar industry for women of all shapes and sizes, all styles and fetishes. It took what is a basic need for every woman and made it interesting and fun and sultry.
You can get bras in virtually any cut or material, from size A to G (yes they have a size G), in solid, flowered, lacy, leopard print, cut out, demi-cup, full cup, air push up, water push up, chicken cutlet insert push up, smoothing, t-shirt and minimizing. And I have only scratched the surface of what is available to the delicate, xx gender. So why, o why, I beseech the masses, do so many women scoff at the usage of this fantastic and necessary unmentionable? (*hint*, this is one I truly do not have an answer for).
As an ample-bosomed woman, I can pretty much never go without this item, nor have I ever been able to, on a regular basis and certainly not without some other sort of safeguard in place like a strategically tightened strap or a shelf bra. This is not for fear of sagging, but really more in awareness that my girls are ahead of me every step of the way, and need some comfort and protection. However, I am of the opinion that none of us should go without. Not if you are small and perky, not if you are sadly pancaked, not if you are large, full and voluptuous. No, no, aaaand no.
See what the ladies don't seem to realize is that even if they are small and perky and their mini-jugs are not flopping and crashing into one another, they are still often heading in different directions, each with her own agenda. One says Statue of Liberty, the other the Empire State building. Uptown vs. downtown, and the little pencil erasers are there to let each passerby know which wants to go where.
See the thing with boobs is, they can't be left unprotected, covered only by a thin piece of fabric. Because when there's a nipple standing up, demanding attention, you can't help but look, no matter who you are. It's like a magnet screaming NIIIIIPPPPLLLEEEEE!! Avert your eyes! Try and look away, I dare you!
But you can't. Because see, even if they are tiny, they are still sorta saggin. And if they're not perky, which lets be honest, the lion's share are not, it's even more unavoidable, bordering on tragic. I see it all day and I cringe each time. I think to myself.....is this woman poor? No, she is carrying a real Gucci bag, wearing Louboutains and a well-tailored silk shirt. Silk, incidentally, is like a flashlight on the problem area, exposing not only the nipple, but the outline of the areola as well - a horrifyingly inappropriate sight.
Even the most construction-worker-y men I know, while they will admire this faux-pas for it's almost-skin exposure, will digress that it makes the wearer look like a twinkie dressed as an eclair. Trash in fancy wrapping. I wonder.....do these women not own mirrors or friends who don't let friends sag and flop in public? Do they not have mothers or better yet fathers, who see them in photos and say "dear god, girl cover those udders up!" I can only surmise that they lack all of those essential elements to a happy and non-humiliating life, or some caring soul would let them know of the embarrassment to which they expose themselves.
Another and less talked about issue here is that the woman who likes to let her girls run free, will most likely do this for the bulk of her adult life, destined to become that woman. The one in her mid-forties, who regularly dons the light-colored tank top, drawing attention to the race toward her knees, perpetually being run by her deflated fun bags. She still thinks she's hot.
I can only pray that at some point, the fashion gods will rain down hellfire and brimstone on the shunner of the great, womanly supporter. Eventually, they must all fall into line. I think even Gloria Steinham will be with me here. Lock 'n' load, ladies.
12 August, 2009
bailin palin
Sarah Palin is just dumb.
I could stop there, because that pretty much encompasses it, but I won't. When I first offered up an opinion, albeit at the request of people who wondered what I would be thinking about this huntin', fishin', down home gal, I was gentle. Nice even.
That's because she hadn't really had any challenges yet and she hadn't really started to talk about anything of substance. Then came the foreign policy experience because of a "maritime border" with Russia - despite never having had a passport in her life. Then there was the Katie Couric interview, which pretty much cemented her status as a liability for John McCain, and then there was the huffing and the fussing because she didn't get to make a concession speech, - after she tanked his campain - too.
She thrust herself into the limelight and tap-danced a quick number on the national stage, thinking that 2012 would be her oyster if she did it. Saying to herself in the mirror at night, "Wow, they love me. They reeeaaallly love me!" But you know who 'they' are in that case?
I'll tell you. They are the fucking morons who think that George Bush was a good idea. They are the ones who have no concept of what is going on in the rest of the world and have decided that anyone who speaks a different language or clings to a different god is somehow an evil-doer. They are the bible-thumping-second-grade-education-having-gas-guzzler-driving-gun-toting-no-traveling weirdos that seem to populate parts of this country where I shudder to even pass though.
So she's a tough broad in the outdoorsy sense. She's from fucking Alaska, people. I'm pretty sure there ain't a lot else to do up there, and they've probably only had electricity in her town for a couple decades, so at some point, it was all a result of needing to survive. I am no longer impressed.
The last straw though, was quitting her noble job as governor, so she could "focus on making change". I'm sorry, but wasn't it her that said the only way to affect change in the government is to be IN government? Yeah, I'm pretty sure that was her. But now that people call her names and have exposed her for the attractive little dumbass she is, she doesn't want to play anymore and is declaring "freedom from politics as usual". Good gravy.
I think ultimately it is indeed the best thing for the people of her state, because she can't abandon them to traipse off and declare anything else, anymore. Now, the good people of Alaska can turn back to the simple, if not slightly obscure lives and talk about back in the day when this crazy bird got some big ideas that were too much for her tiny mind and lack of experience.
Perhaps she can do some international policy negotiation by shouting her ideas across to the Russkies from the peninsula. That Putin could use a good talking to, dontcha know!
I could stop there, because that pretty much encompasses it, but I won't. When I first offered up an opinion, albeit at the request of people who wondered what I would be thinking about this huntin', fishin', down home gal, I was gentle. Nice even.
That's because she hadn't really had any challenges yet and she hadn't really started to talk about anything of substance. Then came the foreign policy experience because of a "maritime border" with Russia - despite never having had a passport in her life. Then there was the Katie Couric interview, which pretty much cemented her status as a liability for John McCain, and then there was the huffing and the fussing because she didn't get to make a concession speech, - after she tanked his campain - too.
She thrust herself into the limelight and tap-danced a quick number on the national stage, thinking that 2012 would be her oyster if she did it. Saying to herself in the mirror at night, "Wow, they love me. They reeeaaallly love me!" But you know who 'they' are in that case?
I'll tell you. They are the fucking morons who think that George Bush was a good idea. They are the ones who have no concept of what is going on in the rest of the world and have decided that anyone who speaks a different language or clings to a different god is somehow an evil-doer. They are the bible-thumping-second-grade-education-having-gas-guzzler-driving-gun-toting-no-traveling weirdos that seem to populate parts of this country where I shudder to even pass though.
So she's a tough broad in the outdoorsy sense. She's from fucking Alaska, people. I'm pretty sure there ain't a lot else to do up there, and they've probably only had electricity in her town for a couple decades, so at some point, it was all a result of needing to survive. I am no longer impressed.
The last straw though, was quitting her noble job as governor, so she could "focus on making change". I'm sorry, but wasn't it her that said the only way to affect change in the government is to be IN government? Yeah, I'm pretty sure that was her. But now that people call her names and have exposed her for the attractive little dumbass she is, she doesn't want to play anymore and is declaring "freedom from politics as usual". Good gravy.
I think ultimately it is indeed the best thing for the people of her state, because she can't abandon them to traipse off and declare anything else, anymore. Now, the good people of Alaska can turn back to the simple, if not slightly obscure lives and talk about back in the day when this crazy bird got some big ideas that were too much for her tiny mind and lack of experience.
Perhaps she can do some international policy negotiation by shouting her ideas across to the Russkies from the peninsula. That Putin could use a good talking to, dontcha know!
11 August, 2009
mysteries
* Why big fat guys can never seem to buy pants that go all the way to their shoes
* Why people stop at the top or bottom of busy stairways
* Why women who wear exceedingly slutty clothes and loads of makeup get upset that no nice boys like them
* Why some people jump to anger first, instead of understanding
* Why people go into the gym and just lie on the mats and then leave, without touching a single weight or machine
* Why people wear t-shirts that say things like "Sex Kitten" or "FBI: Female Body Inspector"
* Why people smoke directly outside of doorways
* Why women set our gender back by being competent in only one area and completely useless in all others
* Why anyone would ever wear a toupee
* Why obese people get mad at people who eat well and take care of themselves
* Why parents scream at their children in public places
* Why people move to a country (any country) and then refuse to learn the language of said country
* Politics
* Why religion has such a stranglehold on the entire world
* As a subset of the above, why "good, god-fearing" people choose to war over whose god is better
This could (and probably will) go on and on. These are the things I wonder - to which there never seems to be a satisfying or quantifiable answer. Take a stab at it, if you feel you can shed light.
* Why people stop at the top or bottom of busy stairways
* Why women who wear exceedingly slutty clothes and loads of makeup get upset that no nice boys like them
* Why some people jump to anger first, instead of understanding
* Why people go into the gym and just lie on the mats and then leave, without touching a single weight or machine
* Why people wear t-shirts that say things like "Sex Kitten" or "FBI: Female Body Inspector"
* Why people smoke directly outside of doorways
* Why women set our gender back by being competent in only one area and completely useless in all others
* Why anyone would ever wear a toupee
* Why obese people get mad at people who eat well and take care of themselves
* Why parents scream at their children in public places
* Why people move to a country (any country) and then refuse to learn the language of said country
* Politics
* Why religion has such a stranglehold on the entire world
* As a subset of the above, why "good, god-fearing" people choose to war over whose god is better
This could (and probably will) go on and on. These are the things I wonder - to which there never seems to be a satisfying or quantifiable answer. Take a stab at it, if you feel you can shed light.
04 August, 2009
house stories
First, let me just declare my love of limeade. It has absolutely less than nothing to do with the subject matter at hand, but o, o, o how I love thee, limeade. A refreshing summer beverage that is perfect for when you come home from the gym and need a little extra acid in your stomach to make you feel alive.
I once drank so much limeade for such an extended period of time, that I started to get acid reflux. Too much of a delicious thing, maybe. Kind of like the time I broke out in hives in Mexico, because I all I ate was shrimp ceviche and lobster and crab for 6 days. It was worth it both times.
Anywho, on the side of the building where I now reside - until I begin the co-habitation period of my romance - is a sign that says Burlesque. When I moved in, I thought that the jazz club downstairs was actually a burlesque joint, and I was waiting to see what "types" came jaunting in and out.
I then thought, hey - those burlesque folks like the buxom lady, I hear. I entertained the idear of getting some black lingerie with fringes and rhinestones and making some extra money for vacation. But alas, the burlesque club and it's sordid entourage have long since left these parts. However, turns out that this was a historic location, for interesting reasons.
I suppose the tiny, almost makeshift kitchen should have been the first tip off to the previous goings on here. Or perhaps the bidet and the pink jacuzzi bathtub with the loud and ornate gold fixtures, all surrounded by lavender tiles and the shell from The Birth of Venus, would have been a clue. But no, I just thought that the tenants or owners before us had some eccentric taste. Turns out, not so much.
See, the landlord - with whom I have no affiliation - is apparently most infamous for running the aforementioned club and along with it, a brothel in my very building and apartment. At the time, it was apparently quite seedy and popular and in my research, I have uncovered that this, purportedly, is where the lap dance was invented. Yes, the art of disease ridden, paid, grinding one-person-clothed-contact was founded right downstairs, while the art of disease ridden, paid, grinding, no-one-with-clothes contact was practiced just a shy floor above.
Giuliani took care of that.
And then came Wyclef, who it turns out was not responsible for the decor, and then came my housemates and now there's me. Come to find out though, the landlord is completely nuts. Not surprising, given her history with the building. But the folks in this neighborhood, well they don't stand for that kind of shenanigan no more, which is why when she advertised on Craigslist that she is opening an "anything goes, gay sex club" the tenants got a little uneasy.
She could of course, never open such an establishment here, but just the idea that this is still her modus operendi is worrysome. And here I sit now, wondering how I have such a penchant for bizarre locations. But I suppose, in the ever-evolving landscape and peoplescape of Manhattan, I should just consider this par for the course.
So now, since there are only rich people with maids around here and there are no laundromats, I am going to go and launder my trou and unmentionables in the lovely pink and gold bathtub and try to cleanse my mind of the thought of what possibly happened in there, before I showed up with rubber gloves and a large bottle of bleach.
I once drank so much limeade for such an extended period of time, that I started to get acid reflux. Too much of a delicious thing, maybe. Kind of like the time I broke out in hives in Mexico, because I all I ate was shrimp ceviche and lobster and crab for 6 days. It was worth it both times.
Anywho, on the side of the building where I now reside - until I begin the co-habitation period of my romance - is a sign that says Burlesque. When I moved in, I thought that the jazz club downstairs was actually a burlesque joint, and I was waiting to see what "types" came jaunting in and out.
I then thought, hey - those burlesque folks like the buxom lady, I hear. I entertained the idear of getting some black lingerie with fringes and rhinestones and making some extra money for vacation. But alas, the burlesque club and it's sordid entourage have long since left these parts. However, turns out that this was a historic location, for interesting reasons.
I suppose the tiny, almost makeshift kitchen should have been the first tip off to the previous goings on here. Or perhaps the bidet and the pink jacuzzi bathtub with the loud and ornate gold fixtures, all surrounded by lavender tiles and the shell from The Birth of Venus, would have been a clue. But no, I just thought that the tenants or owners before us had some eccentric taste. Turns out, not so much.
See, the landlord - with whom I have no affiliation - is apparently most infamous for running the aforementioned club and along with it, a brothel in my very building and apartment. At the time, it was apparently quite seedy and popular and in my research, I have uncovered that this, purportedly, is where the lap dance was invented. Yes, the art of disease ridden, paid, grinding one-person-clothed-contact was founded right downstairs, while the art of disease ridden, paid, grinding, no-one-with-clothes contact was practiced just a shy floor above.
Giuliani took care of that.
And then came Wyclef, who it turns out was not responsible for the decor, and then came my housemates and now there's me. Come to find out though, the landlord is completely nuts. Not surprising, given her history with the building. But the folks in this neighborhood, well they don't stand for that kind of shenanigan no more, which is why when she advertised on Craigslist that she is opening an "anything goes, gay sex club" the tenants got a little uneasy.
She could of course, never open such an establishment here, but just the idea that this is still her modus operendi is worrysome. And here I sit now, wondering how I have such a penchant for bizarre locations. But I suppose, in the ever-evolving landscape and peoplescape of Manhattan, I should just consider this par for the course.
So now, since there are only rich people with maids around here and there are no laundromats, I am going to go and launder my trou and unmentionables in the lovely pink and gold bathtub and try to cleanse my mind of the thought of what possibly happened in there, before I showed up with rubber gloves and a large bottle of bleach.
17 July, 2009
death
Iran is finding out that the cost of freedom is great. We Americans are forgetting how valuable it is and also that we cannot foist our freedoms on other people, crusader-style. Change does not come from fighting; hate does. Fighting against a perceived tyrant in your own land is understandable. Fighting a people on their soil in defense of your beliefs only works for a while. Look what happened to the Romans.
More to say, but sleep to be had.
I can't believe it's been nearly a month since I've written. This, my friends, will change - sans combat.
More to say, but sleep to be had.
I can't believe it's been nearly a month since I've written. This, my friends, will change - sans combat.
20 June, 2009
as if
it's 3:49am. I am watching Dolphins: The Dark Side.
What the fuck? I realize I'm 49 minutes late to the dark-side-dolphin party, but I say there IS no dark side. As if. In fact, I dare say that there is no dark-sider dolphin. Those fuckers are smart and well-adapted and fun and I bet they don't snore, either. Dolphins are all good.
Smart shits, those dolphin. Did I really just call dolphins "shits"? Oi. I have been on the east coast too long, friends. I mean between the shits and the oi, what the hell is goin on? In fact, I said the word stoked tonight and I got me back 4 blank stares. And that's one that has been co-opted by the dreaded masses. So far from home.
All I know is that it's late, the stroopwafel have been cleared out and there are 4 people up at this hour in the abode where I reside. God I love New York.
What the fuck? I realize I'm 49 minutes late to the dark-side-dolphin party, but I say there IS no dark side. As if. In fact, I dare say that there is no dark-sider dolphin. Those fuckers are smart and well-adapted and fun and I bet they don't snore, either. Dolphins are all good.
Smart shits, those dolphin. Did I really just call dolphins "shits"? Oi. I have been on the east coast too long, friends. I mean between the shits and the oi, what the hell is goin on? In fact, I said the word stoked tonight and I got me back 4 blank stares. And that's one that has been co-opted by the dreaded masses. So far from home.
All I know is that it's late, the stroopwafel have been cleared out and there are 4 people up at this hour in the abode where I reside. God I love New York.
13 May, 2009
play list
I got my ipod back up and running, albeit with a few glitches, the most notable being that I have lost about 3/4 of the music I had on it. That said, there are still a few thousand songs to choose from and as I have walked, run and read over the last month or so, I have taken a little inventory of the ones that have stuck with me, for a variety of reasons.
So in no particular order, and since there is nothing else to really do at this hour - alone anyway - this is what has been catching my ear and bouncing between the walls of my brain (since there's plenty of free space). Enjoy, as there are several genres represented. I've entitled it BHBS, just for my own amusement. A special prize to the person who solves the acronym.
BHBS Playlist
sarah mclachlan - stupid
sheryl crow - the difficult kind
soundgarden - the day i tried to live
lit - perfect one
hoobastank - disappear
poe - fly away
coldplay - amsterdam
the streets - dry your eyes
hoobastank - what happened to us
green day - give me novocaine
olive - trickle, creature of comfort
So in no particular order, and since there is nothing else to really do at this hour - alone anyway - this is what has been catching my ear and bouncing between the walls of my brain (since there's plenty of free space). Enjoy, as there are several genres represented. I've entitled it BHBS, just for my own amusement. A special prize to the person who solves the acronym.
BHBS Playlist
sarah mclachlan - stupid
sheryl crow - the difficult kind
soundgarden - the day i tried to live
lit - perfect one
hoobastank - disappear
poe - fly away
sarah mclachlan - drifting
fugazi - promisescoldplay - amsterdam
the streets - dry your eyes
hoobastank - what happened to us
green day - give me novocaine
olive - trickle, creature of comfort
massive attack - exchanges
massive attack - protection
incubus - i miss you
howard jones - no one is to blame
garth brooks - the dance
sinead o'connor - the last day of our acquaintance
justin timberlake - cry me a river
incubus - aqueous transmission
my chemical romance - i'm not okay11 May, 2009
the bah
I found my local bar a bit ago. Well, one of them - there is still a lot of exploring to do in the hood. But I found a good one. The back door is a quiet stumble home and the beers are cheap, the tender(s) of bar friendly and the food ain't bad neither. Nothing bad to say about that.
Being that it was such a good experience and all, I have gone back several times and realized that:
a) I have a knack for warming up the atmosphere, which eventually translates to free drinks
b) Being single is hard on my liver
c) There are a lot of other people in the world who engage in weekday liver and lung damage, of which I was previously unawares. This leads me to believe that being single is hard on other people's livers too.
Or maybe they are not single and being in a relationship is harder on their livers than being single was. I would probably counsel these particular people to consider leaving the relationship that is driving them to drink alone and find a partner who would like to drink in tandem. Seems more fun at least, anyway.
Having avoided serious relationships for the bulk of my life, I don't know if I have had a long enough track record with any one relationship to gauge my own in-relationship drinking habits. Plus, I have had the added bonus of being broke for most of my adult life, and I don't think that Natty Ice really has hurt my filters too much, since it's pretty much water with a dash of hops.
I now understand though, how one stumbles into, claims and slowly starts to stink up one's "spot", because the rush of familiarity and safety to be felt in a not-quite-a-dive-yet-far-from-swanky establishment is like a happy, gin-soaked blanket of comfort. A blanket you can pull up over your eyes over and over and over again. A blanket big enough to share with other people and no one feels like you're hogging the warm part, or leaving their left thigh exposed to the elements.
And so I will now claim my special stool, donate a deck of cards (since they are not playing with a full deck at present, although neither am I, technically) and sully up to play gin rummy and talk politics with Mark and Thomas and whomever is my lucky drinking buddy du jour.
I sent a memo to my liver and promised my kidneys at least 3 litres of water everyday, so hopefully the all-out revolt won't begin for at least another 20 years. Who knows, by then I may have warmed up to a relationship again and it will only be my patience and sanity that take a beating.
Being that it was such a good experience and all, I have gone back several times and realized that:
a) I have a knack for warming up the atmosphere, which eventually translates to free drinks
b) Being single is hard on my liver
c) There are a lot of other people in the world who engage in weekday liver and lung damage, of which I was previously unawares. This leads me to believe that being single is hard on other people's livers too.
Or maybe they are not single and being in a relationship is harder on their livers than being single was. I would probably counsel these particular people to consider leaving the relationship that is driving them to drink alone and find a partner who would like to drink in tandem. Seems more fun at least, anyway.
Having avoided serious relationships for the bulk of my life, I don't know if I have had a long enough track record with any one relationship to gauge my own in-relationship drinking habits. Plus, I have had the added bonus of being broke for most of my adult life, and I don't think that Natty Ice really has hurt my filters too much, since it's pretty much water with a dash of hops.
I now understand though, how one stumbles into, claims and slowly starts to stink up one's "spot", because the rush of familiarity and safety to be felt in a not-quite-a-dive-yet-far-from-swanky establishment is like a happy, gin-soaked blanket of comfort. A blanket you can pull up over your eyes over and over and over again. A blanket big enough to share with other people and no one feels like you're hogging the warm part, or leaving their left thigh exposed to the elements.
And so I will now claim my special stool, donate a deck of cards (since they are not playing with a full deck at present, although neither am I, technically) and sully up to play gin rummy and talk politics with Mark and Thomas and whomever is my lucky drinking buddy du jour.
I sent a memo to my liver and promised my kidneys at least 3 litres of water everyday, so hopefully the all-out revolt won't begin for at least another 20 years. Who knows, by then I may have warmed up to a relationship again and it will only be my patience and sanity that take a beating.
08 May, 2009
acid
I'm the amazing girl that can be exhausted as fuck, after a long workout and still be sitting up with racing thoughts at 1am. Looookattergo.
Like right now, I am marveling at how many drugs ad executives must be on. There is some amazing and creative stuff out there, not to mention some killer graphics, and I do dare say that there must also have been some great e or mushrooms, or potent weed.
I said this about Lewis Carroll one time. I - who actually was Alice in the feature length play put on by Mrs. Stegge's 1-3 grade GATE class - I was in about my sophomore year of high school at the time, and it occurred to me as we studied the effects of psychotropic drugs on the brain, that indeed, many of the childhood fictions that I enjoyed, were enjoyed by a host of free-spirited adults for a whole 'nother set of reasons. I verbalized this to my mother one day while we made dinner.
She told me that I must be the one on drugs, if I would challenge the creative genius of such endeared artists. I maintained that while I did not challenge the genius or artistry in Lewis Carroll's works, I did have well-founded challenge to his sobriety. In effort to watch her head spin around, I busted on Aesop and Dr. Seuss, to boot.
She didn't speak to me for two days.
When you see an ad that really only loosely fits the product being sold, but is odd and meant to "stay with you" in that sort of je ne sais quoi way, the person who thought of it was loaded one night on any one of a variety of substances, all of which will produce a new electrical experience in the brain and are purportedly quite fun. Now that's a way to work!
What this has to do with nerve disorders, illegitimate children and the price of rent in Manhattan is, well, up for discussion. It has killed a decent amount of time in the analysis, at least.
Like right now, I am marveling at how many drugs ad executives must be on. There is some amazing and creative stuff out there, not to mention some killer graphics, and I do dare say that there must also have been some great e or mushrooms, or potent weed.
I said this about Lewis Carroll one time. I - who actually was Alice in the feature length play put on by Mrs. Stegge's 1-3 grade GATE class - I was in about my sophomore year of high school at the time, and it occurred to me as we studied the effects of psychotropic drugs on the brain, that indeed, many of the childhood fictions that I enjoyed, were enjoyed by a host of free-spirited adults for a whole 'nother set of reasons. I verbalized this to my mother one day while we made dinner.
She told me that I must be the one on drugs, if I would challenge the creative genius of such endeared artists. I maintained that while I did not challenge the genius or artistry in Lewis Carroll's works, I did have well-founded challenge to his sobriety. In effort to watch her head spin around, I busted on Aesop and Dr. Seuss, to boot.
She didn't speak to me for two days.
When you see an ad that really only loosely fits the product being sold, but is odd and meant to "stay with you" in that sort of je ne sais quoi way, the person who thought of it was loaded one night on any one of a variety of substances, all of which will produce a new electrical experience in the brain and are purportedly quite fun. Now that's a way to work!
What this has to do with nerve disorders, illegitimate children and the price of rent in Manhattan is, well, up for discussion. It has killed a decent amount of time in the analysis, at least.
06 May, 2009
powerthirst
I may have posted this before, but I didn't find it and it's fucking hilarious, so here it is again. Laughter offsets the sting of adversity, don't you think?
14 April, 2009
the needle
I saw a story on CNN today, and it really just blew my mind and put a few things in perspective. In many places in the country, it is cheaper to get a balloon of heroin, than it is to buy a six pack of beer. Wonder why we got so many junkies?
I think this is a clear statement that we obviously need to lower the price of booze.
I think this is a clear statement that we obviously need to lower the price of booze.
08 April, 2009
housewives
i am horrified that i am choosing to comment on this, but fuck it...i don't have a lot else going on at the moment, and considering the odds of me being one of those are about as great as any random 5 girls in orange county having real boobs, here i go.
watching the real housewives of oc was my guilty pleasure for a while. i know a hundred women like each one of them. but now we are onto trash-lanta and now jersey? i mean....jersey? really? must we continue to stoop? i mean what's next? the real housewives of revere, mass.?
i saw the preview for the real housewives of the armpit of the east coast and i'm really just kinda horrified. at least this time though, they found an entire family of idiots to exlpoit, so i'll probably watch it. plus they all seem to think they are out of the sopranos, which i've never seen, but know enough about to recognize the imitation.
okay, ol' negative nancy over here is going to continue to stare at the high ceiling and thank god that she'll never be housewife-ing it up. for that, i am grateful. i may be broke and single, but at least i'm not tragic and trashy.
i may also begin shunning caps again, just for the helluvit. the lame posts will end soon, i promise. i feel the edge coming back.
watching the real housewives of oc was my guilty pleasure for a while. i know a hundred women like each one of them. but now we are onto trash-lanta and now jersey? i mean....jersey? really? must we continue to stoop? i mean what's next? the real housewives of revere, mass.?
i saw the preview for the real housewives of the armpit of the east coast and i'm really just kinda horrified. at least this time though, they found an entire family of idiots to exlpoit, so i'll probably watch it. plus they all seem to think they are out of the sopranos, which i've never seen, but know enough about to recognize the imitation.
okay, ol' negative nancy over here is going to continue to stare at the high ceiling and thank god that she'll never be housewife-ing it up. for that, i am grateful. i may be broke and single, but at least i'm not tragic and trashy.
i may also begin shunning caps again, just for the helluvit. the lame posts will end soon, i promise. i feel the edge coming back.
26 March, 2009
smart y classy.
I saw a woman walking today, pushing a stroller with a toddler in it. She had a tight fitting black t shirt on that said in very bold white letters:
I USED TO BE A FUCKING IDIOT
then below it, in a darker color, it said:
then we broke up.
So now what, you've progressed to being a total fucking idiot, as opposed to just a regular fucking idiot? I mean isn't the presence of the shirt kind of a giveaway there?
I'm just sayin.
I USED TO BE A FUCKING IDIOT
then below it, in a darker color, it said:
then we broke up.
So now what, you've progressed to being a total fucking idiot, as opposed to just a regular fucking idiot? I mean isn't the presence of the shirt kind of a giveaway there?
I'm just sayin.
25 February, 2009
benny lava
I realize there's not a ton of narrative going on with these lately, but take what you can get for the moment, okay? Besides, this is really funny.
18 February, 2009
unnecessary update
Work is gnarley right now. I have no time to think about anything but work and anything that even threatens to cross my brain that is non-work related is promptly axed from my thought process.
I bought my plane ticket to Cabo tonight. Not sure if I'm going to be able to eat for the next two weeks, but at least I'll be able to get my ass to Mexico. I will starve happily in the sun.
Now I wait for my review, to ensure that I will be gainfully employed for the next year and I will pick some shit up after Friday, when I can breathe again.
Later.
I bought my plane ticket to Cabo tonight. Not sure if I'm going to be able to eat for the next two weeks, but at least I'll be able to get my ass to Mexico. I will starve happily in the sun.
Now I wait for my review, to ensure that I will be gainfully employed for the next year and I will pick some shit up after Friday, when I can breathe again.
Later.
10 February, 2009
muppets!!
Okay I had something else I was going to write about tonight and then I was reading the news and I saw THIS! Muppets!
Ah dohn kerr whut nobody sez abaht eeit. I love the muppets. Love them. I still laugh at the muppet movies (I own most of them) and if the Muppet Show is out on dvd, I will totally buy every episode. It was my favorite part about Sundays when I was a kid and put me in touch with my love of stupid humor. I cried when Jim Henson died.
That was a fun little jog back for no apparent reason.
Ah dohn kerr whut nobody sez abaht eeit. I love the muppets. Love them. I still laugh at the muppet movies (I own most of them) and if the Muppet Show is out on dvd, I will totally buy every episode. It was my favorite part about Sundays when I was a kid and put me in touch with my love of stupid humor. I cried when Jim Henson died.
That was a fun little jog back for no apparent reason.
08 February, 2009
o for...
I have nothing to say today but complaining, so feel free to exit now. I'm sick.....again......mostly due to the fact that I don't really get any actual sleep at all during the week and on the weekends, that loud fucker upstairs comes in yelling and pounding around at 5:00am. No joke. 2 nights in a row this weekend.
Then there's the week nights when he is gentler and only wakes me up at 1. I can't blame it all on him, but right now, it feels pretty good. I'm going to get up at 7am again and press their bell again next weekend. Penance for stomping all over the place and bringing the fucking barking ottoman out at 6am on a weekend. I'm going to invent a new game called "annoy the reservist".
Details to follow.
Then there's the week nights when he is gentler and only wakes me up at 1. I can't blame it all on him, but right now, it feels pretty good. I'm going to get up at 7am again and press their bell again next weekend. Penance for stomping all over the place and bringing the fucking barking ottoman out at 6am on a weekend. I'm going to invent a new game called "annoy the reservist".
Details to follow.
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