If It's About Nothing Then It's About Something...

Letter to my 20 year old self

2010-06-25T14:01:00.000-07:00

Dear 20 year old Leah,

I'm writing to you because you have a lot going on right now and could probably use the advice. I know, I know, too little too late. But better late than never, I guess, even if you can't use any of what I will tell you.

All of this stuff swirling around in your head right now, the stuff that keeps you thinking that this will never end well and that you will never know where to turn? The stuff that makes you feel scared and worthless and like you're just never gonna be ok? I promise you that soon enough, but not soon by any means, you will be stable. Your thoughts will make sense, you will think of yourself over them (those people that seem to be the only reason you breathe), and you will be able to say "yes, no, maybe, I don't know" as much as you feel inclined. Your feelings right now, though the lowest they will ever get (I promise, it won't ever be worse), the darkest days you will see in your life (at least til 30, I can guarantee), you need them. I know, call me fucking crazy (oh yeah, you won't stop swearing either), but they are there for a reason. Even though they make you feel like you can't/won't/shouldn't go on, you can/will/should. You will see the lessons in a little while, but for now, just push through. Please.

You are hot right now. You may not be this hot again, well, ever, so live it up. Wear what you want, prance around and be confident. You are not confident, and you think your butt is big now, but you are mistaken. Shake your tiny ass on a table-top and have fun.

The ones you think are your real friends really are. Also, the ones you think are your real friends really aren't. It is going to be hard to figure this all out, but just go with it. Don't hurt people, give them a chance, and be there for everyone you can. They may look back and thank you someday. Some of the people that you thought were gone for good will be some of your best friends for life, so be careful and treat each person as if they were fragile glass. Don't break anyone.

Ahhhh, but then we come to the part where you DO break some of them. You are going to do this, though I swear you didn't mean to. Always do what you think is right, what you feel in your heart, but know that this is not always going to bring a positive result, no matter what you do or how hard you try. You yourself will also be broken, but please know you can and will pick up the pieces and go on. No? You don't believe me? Just wait. Those you have hurt will come back, and you will make good with those you are supposed to. You will be surprised who is still in or back in your life in 10 years.

As you do now, remember your family is most important. You are very dependent on them, but you will eventually stand independent of them, instead of being lost among them. You need them, but you need them in a way you don't even realize yet. You will lose some of them, and this will crush you. Be there for the rest, as it will heal you in the process.
And when you think that it is over and that they will never love you again, wait it out. They will. We will be waiting a long time to see the outcome of such events, but we will never let go.

The things you think are lame will be your favorite things, and you will be a dork. Embrace it. You have so much insecurity and shame, but someday it will be lifted like a heavy wet blanket. It will feel amazing.

Try and be more confident in what you do and decisions you make. This is worthless to tell you because you won't do this, but in a few years you will realize you are an ADULT (augh!) and that there are so many more things that are important than what you think now. What you see as an end all is really just a tiny drop in the bucket. Forgetable.

Save your money, don't make me work two jobs forever! You will make good money soon and have the time of your fucking life. I look back and wish you didn't spend so much, but you know what, I can't blame you. Even now I tell the stories of the crazy fun times you had and smile with my friends about it. Good job.

Keep yourself safe. Mentally, emotionally (though these will be the hardest) and physically. We are still kicking now, so you did an ok job of that. Your metabolism rules, but try and be healthy. If not, I'll try to right the wrong you did.

You are going to think your life is going to go one way, that you are set, that your future is in stone. And then, BAM!, it is all going to fall to pieces. This will be tragic and devastating every time (yes, I said every), but you will pick up what you can salvage and keep going. You will find better every time, but you'll never know til you're there. It's ok, you will watch this go on all around you and you will feel less alone and lost. Everyone will end up better for it in the end. They just have to.

Don't burn bridges, learn patience (and practice it often) and always be open to new things. Treat others with compassion always, and let go of anger. This will be the only way you can go through this life with ease. I do all of these things still, and someday 40 year old us will write us and laugh at just how much we didn't know, even today.

A for Effort

2010-04-26T13:50:00.001-07:00

So you know how my gf is absolutely insane, right?

Actually, to say she is insane is to say she tries the same thing over and over and always expects a different result. This is kind of the opposite, as she needed to do something once, but didn't, and expected the problem to go away by itself, but THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN. So, this ensued.

Here is just a small example of the maniacal world Donia and I live in. Just a glimpse into our reality, one riddled with crazy thoughts, pointless problems, and booze. Lotsa booze.

Let me point out that though there is usually booze, she did this sober. ALL OF THIS CAME ABOUT SOBER. Especially the relentless complaining, which makes it harder to tune her out. She drives me to drink, I tell ya, and here is an example of why.

Donia is a pretty rational being, I would say, and she is very intelligent. She can debate the shit out of anything because she IS the devil's advocate. No, srsly, he actually, like, hired her and made her fill out a W-2 form and everything. She works for him and will argue any of the points he presents to her. Not a bad gig, 2nd job-wise.

She has this coworker who we will call "Mary", because honestly, every anonymous story has a Mary in it. Mary is overweight, which is fine, but her chair does not think so. Mary's chair squeaks and do you know how I know this? Because Donia has brought up the squeaky chair EVERY DAY FOR THE LAST 2 MONTHS. Not every other, not only business days, no. Every. day. Now I love my gf and I'm there for her and to listen and blah blah blah but really??!! Get over it, put your ipod in, do something to take your mind off the fact that you have never harmed a human but you want to SCRATCH MARY'S EYES OUT AND THROW HER ON THE FLOOR when she moves about and is sqeaking. And please, do it quick, cuz I can't be with you if she is going to be the topic of conversation over dinner dates EVERY TIME WE GO OUT.

So here is what my batshit crazy gf has done about this. She can't possibly tell Mary that she annoys the shit out of her because 1. she is too nice and 2. she has to work with her. She can't switch chairs because there are no extras, and besides, she is convinced nothing will stop the squeaking, it is the person-to-chair ratio working against her here. She can't move her desk because that would be too obvious, she says. "Hey yeah, no, love you to death, just can't stand to sit next to you anymore. No reason". To that I say fuck obvious, you need your sanity (and for the love of God, I need mine back as well).

About a month ago, I was in charge of doing the bi-monthly Walmart trip to grab all the toiletries and supplies we would need for the apt. On this list I see WD-40, and I immediately wonder what in the hell we need this for, and how does Donia know what this is? I know you would think she is the handy one, what with her baggy jeans and lack of femininity, but I'll tell you here and now that if it is broken, Leah fixes it. If it is too high to reach, Leah gets it down. And when something goes awry I work on instincts and experience, while she googles the hell out of "What to do when the microwave starts sparking and sets the kitchen on fire".

So I go to Walmart and I'm searching for this WD-40 that she insists she needs for reducing the noise the fan in the bathroom makes-- a loud rattling noise. Ah-ha, my assumptions were correct. SHE HAS NO IDEA WHAT TO USE THIS SHIT FOR. This particular rattling is not something that this product was made for, but that darling dear insists she needs it. "Just do it Leah. Remember all those hot pink towels you bought when I sent you for guest towels? Yeah, this is for that." Touche, my good sir, and good game.

I am all done at Walmart, I have gotten through the list in record time. I have coupons ready and I want to go, but what is left on this list? You got it, WD-40. I am going up and down the "man" aisles, as I like to call them, looking for this shit. And they are not "man aisles" because women can't use the things in these aisles, but because if you are seen in them in Walmart and you are not a man ALARMS GO OFF! They track you down, it's like they can smell your estrogen and within moments there is a man in a blue smock asking "Are you lost, little girl? Where is your husband/bf/brother/father/protector?" On this day, though, just my luck, my estrogen was non-existent apparently because NO ONE WAS AROUND. I searched every aisle, from camping to home improvement to automotive to paint. It was a crap shoot where this shit really was. I even mosied by the guns a few times just to look creepy so that someone would jump out and ask me "ARE YOU TRYING TO STEAL A WEAPON AND ROB US??" to which I would have replied "No, thank you for asking. But now that you are here..." and I'd use and abuse that toothless sales associate for all he was worth! I got nowhere, I started to give up, but I remembered all those times I came home with stupid shit that Donia detested, but let slide, and I knew I couldn't leave without this shit.

I looked another ten minutes, up and down the same aisles. I looked in the toy aisle hoping to find an empty plastic knock-off for little boys playing mechanic that I could bring back and then say "Oopsie, didn't know it was pretend", but I saw nothing. Finally, I heard a strange sound...angels singing?...trumpets sounding?...and there it was. WD-40 is kept between automotive and camping stuff ON THE TINIEST SHELF KNOWN TO MAN. It's in a corner by itself! There is no other product like it, its not tucked between the other greasy stuff and the oily stuff. No, it has its own zip code in Walmart, which is code for HAHAHA FUCK YOU THAT WAS A FUN GAME FOR US! Hide the WD-40 is awesome, let me tell you, and when I finally did grab a can I was tempted to go BACK to the guns and ammo and really let Walmart know how I feel. I'm sure all you need to have to get your hands on one of those rifles is a drivers license and some sort of knowledge of a Jeff Foxworthy redneck joke and you're in. Also, I have boobs, so knowing the men working back there, I'd have myself a whole arsenal AT A DISCOUNTED PRICE in no time.

I got home and put the WD-40 away, hoping that it has slipped Donia's mind that she needed it. It did not. That girl is an elephant, and I can say that because I am referring to her elephant brain that forgets nothing! She whips out the can that night and uses a screwdriver (oh shit!) to take off the cover to the bathroom fan. I am in the living room with 9-1-1 on speed dial as I am praying to God above that whatever comes of it, the disfigurement won't be that devastating. If she loses a limb in the explosion, please let it be her left arm, cuz the bitch is fast on the 10-key and that job is our livelihood.

It somehow (thank you, Jesus!) goes off without a hitch and she thinks she has fixed the fan. "Listen to that, Leah, silence! SILENCE!", until 3 hours later when she turns it on and it rumbles its harmonious rumble again. The girl is defeated. I assume she will throw the WD-40 that I ALMOST KILLED FOR in the trash, and that would be the end of "Donia: Miss Fixit."

Fast forward to last Thursday when her phone started going off in the living room and I needed to silence it. She was downstairs and I saw that her alarm was going off to alert her of a reminder she had set. We have no secrets, so I opened it to see what she needed to know at that moment. I figured if it said "call my other bitch" that she was already downstairs, and I would just deadbolt the door and be done with her for the night. Crackheads sleep under the building, so why can't she? At least, unlike them, she has body fat to keep her warm when the temp drops.

The alert said "WD-40" and I had horrifying thoughts of what this could mean. Did I have to go buy more because there was no way I was going throught that again. I had PTSD! Just the thought of going back to that battlefield would give me flashbacks like a Vietnam Vet. Then I thought, more worried, what does she need to grease up now?

Then it hit me. The whole past couple months flashed before my eyes and I realized what she was doing. She came upstairs to prove me right: when questioned, she indeed told me SHE WAS TAKING IT TO WORK. She methodically planned to have it on hand for the single opportunity to use it on Mary's chair! She WAITED for Mary to mention she was taking a day off, for a whole MONTH she waited, and now she was ready to jump in and grease the shit out of that chair! Part of me wanted to commit her for being so preoccupied and menacing about planning this crazy ruse, and the other part of me wanted to give her the pulitzer prize for brilliance. She said that Mary would be out the next day and she gets to work so early that no one would be in to walk to her area and smell the chemicals til they had already dispersed and ceased to smell anymore. This. girl. is. dangerous. I best watch my step as well as my back. If anything ever goes wrong and something happens to me: USE. FORENSICS.

Donia, indeed, got up the next morning, packed that shit in her bag, and went off to work. She, indeed, sprayed the shit out of that squeaky chair that was bringing her to a homicidal place, and she, indeed, sat back and smiled at herself for figuring out just how to make her life better. Proud as a peacock, she let me know "It is done", like some hitman who just got his target, and she washed her hands of the whole situation. Her life was complete again and she was at peace, or so she thought, until Monday morning when Mary came in, well-rested after her long weekend, sat down and

SSSSQQQQQUUUUEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

went her chair.
(You can't win em all, kid, but you put up a good fight.)

Yes, this just happened to me

2009-09-29T18:15:00.000-07:00

What you are about to read, internet, is what I would call a "bad day". Now, I am aware that people have bad days all the time, but me: I do not. I try to find the good in every day, and I constantly work on patience and awareness. Sometimes, though, it's just got to be statistics that say every day cannot be good. I guess I was long overdue, and this is what ensued. This story, in no way, is a dramatization of what actually occurred. It is a play by play of something I can't even call a bad day, because in actuality, this is one hour and 15 minutes of my life today.

It started when I walked from work to my car in the parking garage, headed to see my trainer for the first time in 2 weeks! I wanted to cancel, of course, because it is much more fun to be lazy, but I said to myself, "Self: You need this. You will regret not going, and so you will go, and you will love how you feel after. Trust me". This pep talk happened as I walked in the brisk fall air of Seattle. I drove to the gym, found a wonderful spot right outside the gym and the ATM (double score!) and proceeded to turn the car off to get out and buy a parking sticker for the next hour. A tiny thought rushed past as I pulled the key out of the ignition and automatically, without thought as always, placed the keys in my purse. The thought said, "Lock or don't?" I immediately thought "lock" because the street I was on is riddled with homeless people and hoodlums, and my purse was on the front seat. I had my mini wallet in hand, opened the door, locked it with the auto lock on the door handle, stepped out and shut it. I walked halfway to the parking meter when I got that sense of impending doom in my tummy. Immediately I knew what I had just done, but I told myself, "Maybe not. Maybe you didn't hit the lock like you think you did." Just for shits and giggles, I walk back over to the car slowly, as if it was going to explode at any second, and peeked in. ALL. DOORS. LOCKED.

In moments like these, the mind starts going so fast that you can't really think straight. My first idiot move was to check the locked doors. Maybe today, by some act of God, they would open. Even though they were locked. Maybe for some reason. COME ON GOD, JUST MAKE THE LOCKS BROKEN! Jeez, srsly, is this really happening? Last time this happened it was Donia's fault, and it's so much easier when it's someone else's fault, isn't it?

My next stupid thoughts were "I'll call Donia". No phone-it's in the car. "I'll just tell my trainer that I can't work out with her, I'll use a payphone." No phone numbers memorized. "I'll just go home and figure it out there." No keys=no house keys, no landline phone to figure anything out you idiot!!! I, luckily, had my ID, credit cards, and bus pass on me, so I deduce that the one and only thing I can do is walk back downtown to where Donia is working and get her keys. My God, tell me her keys are not in the car in her backpack that she dropped in there before her shift because she knew I'd be picking her up anyway. If I have that, at least, going for me, I'll hug and kiss the next person I see, dirty or not. I promise.

Let me now share with you a little bit about Seattle weather. It is a common misconception that it rains all the time in Seattle. To clear this up, I will tell you that it is gloomy and cloudy and very much overcast for most of the year (we're talkin September through May). Now, when I say we have had the most beautiful summer ever, I mean it, and I have actually heard Seattlites themselves share this opinion with me over the last couple weeks. As fall rolls in, we have all been basking in the last rays of sunshine we can, and shedding a single tear for the weather to come. I bet you can guess where this is all going in my bad hour, and you guessed right. If you love irony, or just love the big ole F you this universe can thrust at you from time to time, you'll enjoy the next part of the story where I SWEAR TO GOD, INTERNET, IT STARTED RAINING TODAY IN SEATTLE. AFTER A BEAUTIFUL, RECORD-SETTING DRY SUMMER. It hasn't rained in I don't know how long, but it sure as shit rained today. The day I locked my keys in my car. And couldn't find a bus route. To take me downtown. The 30-some-odd blocks I needed to go. So I walked...

And I walked and I walked and on my walk I thought of a few things. First was the negative "I hate my life life sucks I want to cry but I won't but I really want to but I can't cuz people will see me and think I'm a crackhead all f'ed up walking down the street in the rain and SO HELP ME GOD IF ONE CRACKHEAD ASKS ME FOR MONEY I WILL SPEW THIS WHOLE PATHETIC STORY ONTO THEM UNTIL THEY ARE CRYING FOR ME AND NOT THEMSELVES ANYMORE". That is where I am at at this point. My next thoughts were good ones because, seeing as I wasn't giving in to the urge to cry, I was going to need to think positive. I had Donia as an out-I knew exactly where to find her and didn't need my phone to do it. I'd worn a hoodie and sneakers today to work because I was that lazy and didn't feel like doing more than putting on a wrinkled tee and covering it in an oversized sweatshirt. Well, at least that was going for me too. And I had my ID and money so if, God forbid, Donia had no keys for me, I had the means to drink until her shift was over. And the means to drink a lot. My last thought was that I wasn't getting to work out, but I sure as hell was getting a nice walk in for the day.

Sidenote: you may be asking yourself why I didn't call AAA. Well, readers, my membership had expired as of last month, and when I saw the $80 necessary to renew it, well now. You know that in true Leah form I procrastinated because WALKING TO THE KITCHEN AND WRITING A CHECK IS REALLY TAXING, and I probably wouldn't really need AAA, right?

Let's see, where are we now, ahhh yes. We are somewhere downtown in Seattle between the car--which, btw, does not have a parking sticker on it because I couldn't open the door to put it in the window and NO WAY IN HELL AM I PAYING FOR PARKING SO THAT SOME ASSHOLE CAN WALK BY AND, JUST FOR FUN, STEAL MY PARKING STICKER THAT'S HANGING ON THE OUTSIDE OF THE WINDOW--and Donia's work. I will not let anyone have the last laugh in this one, besides maybe the meter maid who will surely find my car and give me a ticket. That fact I am just putting out of my mind for the time being. I've got bigger fish to fry.

Walking through Seattle is always a challenge, and at this time of night people out on the streets are ready to party, and when I say people I mean those living on or near these streets who are always wasted/cracked out. They are in rare form as all of the timid 9-5ers wait at the same bus stops they do their drugs at, and it's fun to see them all scared, with their ballet flats and their umbrellas, as some drugged up woman screams, "No one want to lay next to yo scrawny ass anyway, you nuttin but a child molester, motherfucker!" Ahh, lovers quarrels. I guess crackheads need love, too. But you do remember that I am taking NO SHIT on this walk today and I am ready to go, come on hooker, give it all you got! I've never hit a bitch, but I ain't got nothin against starting my fightin history with you. Bring. It.

I make it through the storm (literally, but not literally, more to come on that soon) and finally reach the symphony hall where Donia is catering. Yes, fancy shmancy symphony hall with well dressed people saying intelligent things sipping $15 glasses of Moet. I am in the elevator and I just know I have to exit the elevator and walk past the entrance to the gathering they are having tonight, probably a high priced hou- long appetizer and wine party that cost more than any wedding I've ever attended. Wouldn't you know it, the elevator doors open and there's a lovely group of business men using words far beyond my comprehension, and me in my rain soaked hoodie, ripped jeans and sneaks. I rush into the kitchen ASAP and summon Donia over to get her keys and...drumroll...SHE HAS THE KEYS! Lord, You have not forsaken me, nor will You ever. Amen.

Some of the staff has a laugh over my debaucle, but they still really don't know all the gritty details of the last, at this point, 40 minutes. I get the keys and leave as quickly as I can, so not to embarass my girlfriend or my place of work with my wet-rat appearance any longer. Now I exit the building and, if I thought I was a wet rat before, I ain't seen nothin yet. I get outside to good news and bad news. Good first? Ok, well, my bus, the only one I know will get me to the vicinity of where I am going, is sitting outside the door, but about to leave. I run to the door and just make it. The bad news: It is downpouring. Like DOWNPOURING. Remember that little meteorology lesson I gave before on Seattle weather? Well, I forgot to tell you that it just doesn't ever rain hard here. It's always a sprinkly, drizzly rain. Keeping with the theme of the hour, you guessed correctly that it hasn't downpoured but a half a dozen times in the 2 years I have been here. Make today time #7...

Now, this bus ride is in an unfortunately busy area at an unfortunately busy time, but at least I'm dry. Or drying. The stop I need comes pretty quickly, but it is approximately another 10 blocks from where my car is. Did I mention that it. is. raining? And hard? At this point nothing is breaking me though, I have already come so far, I can see the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow. I know I will soon be home and in a snuggie. I can feel it! I can taste it! I can smell...whoa. Just then I pass by a covered bus stop and I see a woman struggling to light a cig. Then I realize, after that god-awful and unfamiliar smell that, internet, I think I just got my first wiff of crack cocaine. Srsly, I have never been in the actual presence of it before, but that smell was like no smoke I have ever smelled before. I press on because no little contact high is going to stop me now, even if I do feel woozy and sick. I get closer and closer, and yes, I know everyone is looking at me saying , "That poor girl", but more likely saying, "That scrubby girl lives on the street. She should get a job like the rest of us". I guarantee people thought this because it just so happens that where my car was parked and where I was now in my journey is an area of Seattle riddled with homeless teen and twenty something runaways who are always strung out and looking to panhandle or rob you. At this moment I could have been one of them, no one would have known better. Great, now I'm insecure too!

I reach the car and magically, and unbelievably to me, I HAVE NO PARKING TICKET! An hour and fifteen minutes, and no meter maid came by! It is pure luck I tell you, because in this exact spot a month ago I saw a man park, run into a deli, and come out under 3 minutes later to a ticket. I kid you not. I blew God a kiss and threw him a wink. He wasn't all bad today, with his little "let's see what you can handle before you crack" joke that he played on me. The keys, the rain, the lack of busses, the dodging of the crackheads. It was all a test of my patience. Well, A++ if I do say so myself, with extra credit for not bitching someone out or shedding a tear in the process.

I am finally in the car, soaked to the core, but victorious. I actually took camera photos to reiterate just how wet it was out. When I said no dramatizations, I meant it. Worst case scenario EVER!

I am now home and in dry clothes, a snuggie thrown over me for warmth. Yes, I do have to leave the house again later to get Donia, but you know one thing...I AM NOT GETTING OUT OF THAT DAMN CAR FOR ANY REASON. Keys in the ignition until I am good and ready to run back into the apt and back into the snuggie for the night. I'm not taking any more chances with this day.

Please excuse my language when I say fuck you, Tuesday, and all of your dirty wet tricks.

** I now invite the aforementioned "one-uppers" to top that, biotch!**

29 for the next 5 years, at least.

2009-07-27T13:39:00.000-07:00

For the first time ever, I was very content--no, I actually felt the urge--to be alone on my birthday. Not alone like off-myself-when-no-one-is-looking alone, but alone in that I wanted to stay home from work and wake up when I wanted and do what I wanted and walk by myself and think about the number 29. The AGE 29. A friend pointed out that today is the first day I am 29, and the first day for many years to come that I will claim to be 29. I love that. I have seen it on TV and in the movies, and no one wants to let go of 29. So for the next year, I will enjoy it.

Someone also once told me (I have lots of friends with lots of good ideas) that you change every 7 years. You, your personality, your view on life. Think about it sometime. If this is true, then the last year has been a huge change in me, and I agree with that. Not my location or relationship or friendships or likes and dislikes, but an innate change in yourself that you can just feel. A way of seeing the world clearer, with less filters. A way of knowing that all that mattered before was just a shallow view, a terribly skewed and backwards view of what it's really all about.

I feel like I don't care what people think--of course everyone says this when they are trying to prove maturity--but it's not like that at all. It's not in a rebellious, "I'm wearing these sweats out and I don't care what people think" way, when what you're really looking for is the attention being different brings. It's in the "I don't even care if I'm uncool or that that 16 yr old Paramore fan just made a comment to her friend about how the 'No Doubt crowd' is a bit older." It's just a content and happy feeling that you have for your own life, and for what you have. You don't compare it to others' lives or try to live parallel to theirs. It's knowing that what you have is what you need and that the road that got you there was important. It was the whole point.

Last night I was happy about today being 3 hours away. I won't say I'm happy to be this age, but I know I am this age and I probably wouldn't want to go backward if given the chance. I wouldn't want to revisit the depression in college, the extreme insecurity (which lingers only but a touch), or the low self esteem that made me take my youth for granted and always look to be someone else. I see my flaws now, and though I'll never stop trying to change them to be better, I will stop letting them hold me back from being who I can at the present moment. And I don't mean to get deep for the sake of getting deep, it is just that reflection helps when you're 29. You want to know that you will be ok and that, after all the prior b-days where you thought you wouldn't make it or just wanted aging to STOP, you did go on and experienced things and would never take those things back. I know, even at this "old age", I have so much more to do and be a part of that will change me and make me stronger and more aware. That is what keeps me going.

I feel the need to be healthy and spiritual. I never needed to be healthy before, I was just lucky to have the biological makeup that I had. I have to work now, and I can't say I love it, but I see I need to do it. Religion and spirituality mean two different things to me, and I want to explore both my Christianity and my Spirit here on Earth and see how the three things can connect. The Earth is a magical place and if you don't think so just look at the other empty planets. I want to remember the little things, but not sweat them. I practice patience more than I can tell you, and I try to remember that we are all in this together, even those who are really just in it for themselves. They are the ones we need to reach out to the most and show that without others, they would be damn lonely on this big planet.

Moving away has been a big part of "growing up" for me. I always went out on my own, had my roomates and dorm and apartments and such, but I never went away and experienced another place, void of my friends and family and the comforts of home. Now some do this and others don't, and to me both sides of the argument have their points. I do know that for me to see another side of the country, another culture in and of itself, different people and views and attitudes, has brought me a new understanding of me, the world, and the part I play in it. Of course I found people way over here that were like me and had the same views, and those people were easy to befriend. It's the ones that differ from us that open our eyes to thinking and feeling differently. If you give them a chance, everyone can teach you something. I'm not even talking about being in search of a new religion or political stance or anything as drastic. It's just the small things that differ between place to place that make you not only appreciate that place, but more appreciate where you came from. I was against this move from the get go and ready to never give it a chance and beg my way home, but when I let go and rode out the experience, I got way more from it than I ever thought possible.

I like having the confidence in myself to not need to hold my parents' hands all the way through (though some nights I just wanna be home with them!). I like knowing I don't take on the persona of the person I'm dating anymore and that I am me, no matter who I am with. I like feeling like I want to be with the person I love, but not needing to be with them to survive. I like having a clean slate with no secrets or lies that are always lingering in the back of my mind. I like to know that if something happens, I can count on me first and them second if need be That I can get myself through, but that I can reach out if I need a little help.

I like knowing that after all these years, though only few have emerged victorious, I have some lingering good friends I can count on for anything. I have a best friend who is still here and we have changed together and still know how to use each other when we need a boost. You never know who you'll end up with when you are out partying and working and in school and meeting all sorts of people from all walks of life. I am happy to say that I have been able to hold on to the best of them, by the grace of God, and their graces as well.

Sometimes I still feel that little girl's fears come out and I just want to run and hide. Sometimes the insecurities of my teenage years emerge and bring me down to places I never wanted to see again. And then there are the struggles that came in my early twenties where I sometime felt as if I were circling and circling only to find I could not pinpoint exactly what I was looking for. Dizzy from circling and booze and conflicting feelings and views coming from the people around me. Where I was disappointed every time I thought I had found IT, only to be heartbroken when I was told that this wasn't it yet again. I feel these things now because no one can ever be truly whole or happy or okay, but I deal with them as I know fit. Without these things we would not keep working at ourselves, nor would we see how far we have come and how proud we should be.

Next year I hope to be closer to home for my 30th. In part because I'm almost ready to be there again, and also because I will need one big crazy ass party with lots of booze to keep me from going insane and crying for weeks. It will be one part party, one part suicide watch, and all parts love and fun. I am ready for adulthood, today on my 29th. I can't say I was ready yesterday, but this morning I woke up and made the decision to sign up, put on my "Hello my name is" sticker, and participate in the rest of life. To be rid of my 20's and prepare for the ever popular 30's. Is 30 the new 20? I'll never know and I'll never tell cuz I'm 29 from here on out...

Gram

2009-06-10T15:32:00.000-07:00

I haven't been inspired lately by too much...too much positive stuff that is. And though this is going to sound like a very negative situation that has inspired this blog, I can't take it as that at all. Maybe if you read on, you'll see what I mean...

We found out that my Gramma, a.k.a. Rev. Barbara Mattscheck/Barb/Gram/mom/Pastor Barbara, has cancer again. She beat breast cancer about 10 years ago, but the doctors are saying now she has a lump in her lung. The whereabouts and specifics of this cancer are not my main goal to get across here today, though. The point of this post is that you are only as sad, sick, helpless and depressed as you let yourself be. I realized the power of positive thinking and living a while ago, and I've never looked back since. My Gram is another one of those people, but to such a higher degree, I don't know if I'll ever get there. She does not work alone, but puts all of her faith and belief in God. I know this is what gets her through the day, and what will get her through this battle as she forges ahead.

My mom broke the news to me about the cancer. My mom was not the one to explain the situation to me, though, as she was visibly upset and unable to get through it without crying. She handed the phone to Gram. Well, wouldn't you know, this woman got on the phone and acted as if she were going to tell me a fun story or announce wonderful news! She did not sound like a woman who was just told she had cancer at all, which is what helped me through the phone call. She went on very matter-of-factly, explaining to me what they'd found and what was going to be done. She talked about chemo with the positivity of someone talking about a lovely picnic in the park. She never got down with her tone of voice or even told me to worry or not to worry. To her this was another thing life had thrown at her, and she was gonna deal with it and move on. Now this is not to say Gram is not in touch with reality; in fact she is a very intelligent and rational woman. She just will not let the fear of this disease get to her. I am sure she is afraid in a way, but she has such neverending and unyielding faith, she doesn't even go to that scary place. She believes that the Lord will get her through this and that everything will be ok, and that's all the rest of us should believe as well.

Maybe it is because I'm way out here in Seattle and don't see her all the time, but I just can't get afraid over this. Something in me says everything is going to be ok, that there is no way she is not strong enough for this. I wish I was there now to be with my family, who is in need of comforting right now, and it's times like this that I regret being way over here. I will see Gram in July, probably after she has already started chemo, and it will be very, very hard, but I know what I will find when I get there. A positive woman, without fear, who has put all of her health and wellness in God's hands.

I have to say, without offending the very few men in my family, that I know and have always known that Gram is the head of our little family clan. She is the matriarchal leader that we look to when things are bad, or even good. She has been a pastor her whole life, bringing the Word of God to people far longer than I can even remember or imagine! She has devoted her life to helping those in need, whether it be physically, mentally, or spiritually. Her aura just oozes faith and love and compassion. So many look to her not only as their spiritual teacher, but as a quasi mother, grandmother, or friend. Even the occupation that she chose for herself was not only selfless but rewarding! Dog shows and dog breeding brought in money, of course, but think of all those people who came to buy puppies that they and their family could love and enjoy for years to come! Nothing says love like chihuahuas and Jesus!

I have always looked at my Gram, not as a timid and subservient woman from another generation, but as a strong woman who was ahead of her time. She is independent, and maybe a little pushy in stores, but she does what is best for herself and others and doesn't compromise herself. Just this past Christmas she had me and my mother on stealth missions in the middle of a fabric store, fleeing a potentially angry mob of consumers who would have stopped at nothing less than beating us to a pulp if they saw us leave with the items we came for hours before they would receive theirs (It's a long story, don't ask!). It's always an adventure going out with Gram, but her mantra is "there's always a way around everything". Some would think this is the mantra of a seasoned criminal, but I say "nope, it's just my Gram". There are endless stories I could tell of being with my Gram and the rest of the family, visiting and sharing and having some good ole fashioned family fun. You probably wouldn't believe some of the wackiness that has ensued in the past when Gram was involved, but some of my favorite past times are when these things occurred, or when we all sat around and reminisced about the stunts she's pulled. It's more fun than any bar I've been to with friends, any date night out at the movies, or any other mindless task we fill our days with. Family will just always beat all that other filler out.

Currently Gram is leading her own church, as well as feeding and clothing the homeless and prostitutes in RI. What more could you ask for in a human being than to use their time and energy to help others? When I first heard about Gram's mission to go out and help people on the streets of the city, it was through a request that I give her all the clothes I didn't want anymore instead of throwing them out. When I questioned her on what she would do with them, she answered, "The prostitutes can wear them". At first I was appalled and offended that she thought my wardrobe was fit for a prostitute, but then I realized what she was doing. She was trying to get them off the streets and out of this line of work, which for most I'm sure was almost a necessity in order to just stay alive out there on the streets. Of course I made the obvious hooker jokes at first, but when I stopped to think about what my own Gramma was out there doing, I was amazed at the person she was. Brave and giving and doing the work that the Lord put her here to do.

I can't even begin to understand why things like this happen to good people. People with such a positive influence in so many people's lives. People who could never be replaced. I am not saying that bad people deserve anything like cancer, but I am certain my Gramma doesn't for sure.

She will tell you herself to just pray and believe. I'll never forget being 8 or 9 and struggling with asthma and my Gramma laying hands on me and saying "By the stripes of Jesus, I am healed". She taught me that Bible verse and, at the time (and even still a little now) I didn't really know what "stripes of Jesus" were. I pictured a zebra whenever I prayed that prayer in my bed, and I'll be honest, when I utter this prayer now, I still think zebra. The Lord works in mysterious ways, I guess...

When people get sick they can either look to God and blame him and ask why, which was my first reaction. Your other option is to turn to Him and pray for strength and His power of healing. So I ask you now: pray for her, have faith, believe that she will beat this and get through it with help from the Lord. Be there for her when she doesn't feel well, be a support and a comfort to her when she needs it. I will do it from far away, but I will do all I can. This is not anything but a struggle she will get through with the love of her family and friends, and a bit of that faith that we should all be lucky enough to learn to have and to hold on to.

I think it's sad that people don't always know how highly we think of them. It's times like these that make us think and wonder and appreciate what we have. We can question and be confused, but what we can't do is lose faith in God and the power he Has when we believe...

Vote no. Save our ship.

2009-05-27T09:43:00.000-07:00

So it is one day after the Supreme Court deliberated and looked again at the decision to keep same-sex marriage banned in California. This means it is one day after the SC pissed on the bill and then kicked it ‘til it cried…again.

You know, today marks a day where a lot of people (Right wing? Religious? Topless Miss Californias all over the world?) are celebrating with a non-alcoholic drink and a dance party consisting of equal parts boys and girls, all covered from neck to feet in ugly garb and keeping 6 inches from each other at all times. I'm sure it's a hoot. Good for them, you know. Maybe they are right. The more I think about it, the more it seems like gay marriage IS a bad idea. My God, think of the repercussions! Let me lay them out for you, one by one, so you too can really decide if we want the sanctity of marriage to be ruined by these awful, awful gays.

First off, all those arguments about the economy, blah blah blah. Do you seriously think that a bunch of gays are gonna throw huge bashes for weddings? With glorious, expensive, and lavish themes? Really? Come on now, if anyone knows the gays, it's me, and they do not like to do things up in such a way that you're blinded by glitter and sequins and diamonds. They are very modest and plain individuals who will not be putting any money into the economy if they are, in fact, finally (FINALLY) granted the right to have a wedding and marry. And the lesbians, come on, they are even less lavish. What, are we expecting them to have enormous guest lists or something? All those mouths to feed? The lesbian community is NOT HUGE or TIGHT KNIT and they don't ALL KNOW EACH OTHER, so just forget it. There's no way our economy would make money off of either of these groups. No marriage for them.

Secondly, I think that the gays could only ruin what we have already established as a successful and sacred tradition. Once they're married, they'll then start having sex, which is exactly what we're trying to avoid! Straight couples wait for the day that they are bonded through the ties of marriage before they ever even think about having intercourse! If we allow gays the same right, all of a sudden they'll start losing their virginities on their wedding nights, just like all of the straight people who are following the Lord's request to wait until that time. No way do we want to allow that! If straight people can wait until marriage and resist the temptation of sex for all those years, then they deserve marriage be kept for themselves and away from the gays.

And another thing… I am so sick and tired of all these gay couples complaining they can't get married. How long have they been together, like a week? The sanctity of marriage is always upheld by straight people and let me tell you, they would never abuse it by eloping because the girl is knocked up, or because they got wasted and thought it was a great idea to get hitched. Never. The gays would probably do this. You are trying to tell me that there are gay couples that have been together for 10, 15, 25 years at this point and now want marriage because they have kids and are getting older and want to make sure their partner and children are protected should anything happen to them? B.S. They would never abide by the traditions straight people uphold of having a full courtship, meeting the parents when the time is right, staying abstinent, going through marriage classes, and giving their courtship ample time to be sure that what they are doing is the absolute right decision for both parties. The gays would probably mess it up and do crazy shit like get married for money, or for status, or because they have run out of options and don't think they'll ever find anyone. What if they start arranging marriages with teens! Can you imagine some cultish thing like that happening??!! They'd probably try to marry soldiers to get the monetary perks of being an army wife/husband. They'd probably troll websites looking for rich men and then get plastic surgery and dye their hair bleach blond and pretend they loved a man 50 years their senior just to inherit his estate. Damn those gays and their sneaky reasons for getting married. Straight people would NEVER sink so low.

The last thing I have to say is that gays marrying will totally mess up the family model as we know it. Families need two parents and I can't see two gays staying together after kids. I mean, I work hard for my money, and I am so tired of my tax dollars going toward these gays who just have, like, 6 kids and can't take care of them! Why are they so irresponsible? Why do they keep getting pregnant by accident? All my tax dollars going to their welfare payments? Birth control, gays, birth control. Why can't they take on the good practices of the straight people and wait and plan and make sure that they want the children and that they don't have multiple accidents. Straight people plan it out so well that they know, like, the exact day and time of conception! They don't just go out and get drunk and knocked up and then either neglect their kids or have abortions. Now I believe abortion is a woman's right... but really lesbians, let's stop using it as birth control, eh? I mean, I wish that gays understood how important children are and how they need loving parents. You don't see one straight parent taking off on the other and leaving their kids to wonder why mommy or daddy left them, do you? And please, gays, if you're gonna have all these unwanted kids, please put them up for adoption. Do you even understand how important adoption is to parents who can't have biological kids?

America, stand by your decision to not allow gays to marry. They're not even real people, anyway, so how can their relationships be real? Really they're just actors and designers or characters on TV, you don't know any real gays, so just stick to your guns. They don't stay together forever like marriage says to, like straight people do. They won't take the vows as seriously as the straight people do either. They will just take advantage of this sacred rite that the straight people have cultivated and nurtured for thousands of years. Please, just read this and don't think it through much

A lesson in love and sparkly onesies

2009-04-11T14:26:00.000-07:00

10 years ago, a girl named Britney Spears came on the pop scene (or should I say CREATED IT), and turned the world upside down. Then she said "OOPS", and all was forgiven.
When I finally realized that my "hate" for Brit was actually jealousy that festered because of my ex bf's love for her, I was able to get past it and get on the Brit train. The I love Brit train. The train that derails all others.
The concert in Tacoma (an hour outside of Seattle) the other night was amazing! My tickets came via Santa, aka Donia Claus, in Dec. 08 so I had 4 long months to wait for the concert. The day finally came last Thursday and we were off to the show, hours early so as to not hit traffic and get a good cheap parking spot (here is the evidence that times have changed and I'm very, very old). Being 2 hours early we went to a "mall" of sorts, that actually was an old train depot or something. Inside it was like a makeshift Fennual Hall in Boston, but like 1/100th of that and dirty. Downtown Tacoma was weird, it was gross, and frankly, I would be much more nervous to walk through there after dark than downtown Seattle. It just seemed like it had this evil aura, like people don't care about you and would jump you and beat you for your purse and phone. And then, just for good measure, maybe finish you off with a stabbing.
After eating at one of the strangest Mexican "restaurants" (a glorified fast food joint with beer and wine), we walked back up the road to the arena to get in line. With only 20 minutes til the doors opened, we wanted to get inside and get inside FAST! Upon arriving, we had noticed some "Jesus freaks" standing outside the arena. There were about a dozen, all spread out in pairs about 30 feet apart. They were holding signs that said things like "Trust Jesus" and "Fear God", and they were yelling and screaming at people to stop "idolizing" Britney. They were harassing young girls, some no older than 16, and telling them that because their hair was dyed and their face was made up, that they were committing "idolotry" (huh?) and that Britney served as a graven image they were praising instead of God. One girl just giggled and said, "You think I look and act like Britney? Thanks!" The protester's message was obviously lost in translation.
So many feelings about this. Number one, I can't help but feel a familiarity with "Christians" like this because I was raised attending a church that used some of the same scare tactics as these people. I remember a time I brought a high school bf to my church while I talked to a friend. There was nothing going on in the church that day, but we did come across the youth pastor while we were there. As I spoke to my friend, I noticed that the youth pastor had caught my bf's ear. I approached them and heard that the pastor was saying things like, "Why don't you believe? If you don't listen to me and believe YOU'LL GO TO HELL." Before I knew it my bf was attempting to get away from this man and as he was literally running out of the church, the pastor was still screaming to repent and believe or burn in Hell. I chased him out and he was visibly shaken and angry and disgusted with what had happened. He was so angry, and all I could do was cry and apologize and try to tell him that I wasn't crazy and neither were they. He was NOT buying that. This guy now had such a terrible and untrue picture of what a Christian was, and it was going to be very hard for him to ever trust anyone that tried to preach to him again.
New statistics show that 15% of people on the East coast don't identify with any religion. On the surface, some would say that the world is just getting more evil and that that is the reason God is so obsolete in some people's lives. Think about it, though: God hasn't changed. The Word is still the same. So why are there so many less believers? I think it has something to do with the messengers and the persons being entrusted with spreading the Word of God. These death and scare tactics that Christians are using now are turning people off and doing the exact opposite of what they set out to do. NOT ONE PERSON stopped to talk to those people or ask them about Jesus or what the Bible said. Not one of them got a chance to even embrace Christianity truly because they were AT A POP CONCERT BEING YELLED AT BY CRAZIES. I just had this funny image of God putting his head in his hands and sighing with defeat. This is not what he had in mind when he said, "Go into all the world and preach the Gospel". These people were simply laughable and not to be taken seriously.
The crowd was predominantly girls with dyed blonde hair and fake tans between the ages of 12 and 21, with a few gay boys, drag queens, with girls my age and a bit older sprinkled in. This was not the time, nor the place, for a sermon. It certainly wasn't fair to call Britney "evil" or talk about how she doesn't deserve children or life at all. It wasn't right to call people out on how they were dressed (not at all inappropriately) or on how they were at a concert because they held Britney above God. I don't know about the other 10,000 people, but when I have a problem or need spiritual guidance in life, I don't fold my hands and pray to Britney Spears.
I can only say that I wish people would take what religion they've learned and explore it for themselves. I wish those that were "brainwashed" by corrupt leaders would be led to question the teachings, find answers for themselves, and READ THE BIBLE instead of taking someone else's word for it. In a world full of internet lies, scams and fact checkers everywhere you turn, do we really wanna take a chance on these pastors who are just as twisted and money hungry as corporate bankers? I feel like the only way to find the truth in spirituality is to make the journey yourself.
If these people really knew what they were doing they'd stop badgering and start engaging. They'd ask people what they believed and, after really listening, offer up their opinion and belief and leave it open to the person's interpretation. They would have real FAITH, which is the one thing they are lacking when they preach. They don't get the word out there and then leave it to God like they should, they push and push and push until you're afraid not to believe, or you're just so pissed off you write it off altogether. We weren't put here to beat it into people, we were put here to open eyes and leave it to God. I don't think His plan was to have a bunch of followers who feared him so much that they didn't even know what they were agreeing to believe in.

All this from a Britney concert. Who knew.

I am so glad I got to see her again. This tour blew the Onyx Hotel tour out of the water. She worked her ass off and did stuff only a real pro could do. She looked amazing, and I would say she sounded amazing too, but only because she sang NOT ONE WORD LIVE. It's ok with me though. She is a performer and I definitely got what I wanted--an insane performance.

I can't believe this Britney is the same Brit we saw in the last two years fall apart in front of our eyes. It says a lot for mental health meds, a good parent who uses tough love, and ridding your life of people who aren't in it for you. I think about a time when I felt out of control and was hurting and acting out because I had no idea what to do or where to go. I can't imagine doing that in front of millions of people, and then having to come back and prove myself again to all those people.

That's why she is Britney and I am not. She seemed to be having a lot of fun and I hope she only continues on a good path.

And I pray for those "Christians" who are fighting the good fight and protesting Britney with hate and anger. Come on, guys. Really? There are way bigger fish to fry than an innocent pop princess with a weave and a girlish southern accent.

Can I get an Amen?

HANG me OVER a bridge and push

2009-02-22T11:18:00.001-08:00

Ok, can I be honest for a sec? Good, honesty to come in 3,2,1...

I may still be tipsy from last night this morning, maybe it's because when you throw up it affects you in the same way it did going down? Doesn't matter, point is I am sick and it's all my fault and I'm never drinking again...blah blah blah.

This is hopefully an old skool-ish blog for y'all about nothing and everything and nothing all over again.

TOP 10 WAYS TO KNOW DONIA IS AWAY FOR THE WEEKEND:
10. All the windows are open and it's February
9. The house is a MESS
8. More dishes in the sink than in the cupboards.
7. The hair in the shower drain could pass as a small redheaded animal
6. Garbage out on the deck is hazardous to humans and animals alike. I may be fined soon.
5. I stayed out past 10 pm last night.
4. Lots of uninterrupted internet time
3. Reality shows for 4 days
2. Same clothes I was wearing Thursday
1. Britney CD has been on repeat 24/7 since I dropped her at the airport!

So it may seem like she's controlling and doesn't let me live my life as I want to...

yep, that's it.

She will be back today, which means I have to muster up enough sobriety and stomach control to go get her from the airport. I guess it's do-able, seeing as she makes the car payments and allows me to live my messy life in the Civic.

Can I just make a shout-out right now? Mind you, I realize I am immature and a total dork, but think of it this way: the girl is a year and a half younger than me! (yes, I know this). I am, of course, speaking of Miss Brit Brit, aka Britney Spears. She is amazing, y'all, and I don't use that word all too often. Ok, usually only about really good nachos, but never about people. People have nothing on nachos. (Did I really just write that? Yes I did.) I have heard her CD now at least 30 times on repeat since January and I'm totally sold. Totally. Sold. At first I wasn't impressed, thought they all sounded the same, but now I can tell them apart as if they were my very own octuplets that I couldn't afford but loved with all the crazy in my heart. I guess that pretty much explains how I feel about B. Spears. She is my hero. (I wrote "herp" by accident first. Freudian slip?) I will see her in April and I am very tempted to go to the concert either donning the old skool "Baby one more time" outfit or the new "Circus" ringleader costume. Either way, there'll be pics. So what if just me and my gay male friends are into her. We're talkin guys who taught me to apply bronzer and who can always tell when I'm on my period. That's love.

Point: listen to her CD. (or don't. I'll just die a slow, sad death)

Another thing I desperately want to promote: Twilight. Again, I know, I have the mind of a preteen with the boobs of a woman, but I neeeeed you to read this. And this isn't the same as the Brit CD, that I just want you to hear it cuz I love it and I secretly know none of you will fall for it (hey, did I just say that?? regardless--LISTEN TO BRITNEY!) No, you need to read these books. You need to see the movie. Twice. Like me. With plans to see it for a third time in the theaters before it goes to DVD, which you will buy the moment it goes on sale, no matter what the asking price. You, at first, will not want to make it the whole way through the first book, but at some point it will hit you and you will be in love. And by in love I don't mean you will wish you were a vampire and give anything and everything to actually meet Edward and make him yours and live happily ever after as the love of a vampires life. That's my job.
P.S. I make sure that I know where Robert Pattinson is at all times. This week he is in L.A. Soon enough he'll be in Vancouver filming. I will be close by with a camera and a vial of my own blood (as a gift to him, of course). Angelina style.

Was it really worth it?

Was she everything that you were looking for

To feel like a man?

I hope you know that you can’t come back

Cause all we had is broken like Shattered Glass.

You’re gonna see me in your dreams tonight

My face is gonna haunt you all the time

I promise that you gon’ want me back

When your world falls apart like shattered glass

Come on! Brilliance! Where was this song 5 years ago?!! Don't you wanna go through this JUST TO DEDICATE THIS SONG TO SOMEONE?? Fine, me neither, but it would be super cool.

Ok, last shameless plug, and this one is for those of you who like GOOD music, and by that I mean it's far from Britney. It's actual brilliance and this woman is amazing (like nachos) and talented and beautiful and I saw her live this year and wanted to go have a beer with her after and have her sing me to sleep (as I laid on the bed, she on the floor). Her name is Rachel Yamagata. Don't let the name hold you back. A-mazing. "Sunday Afternoon" is my new fav song right now. She's like Tori Amos sounding, except you don't have to try to figure out what the fuck her lyrics could possibly mean. She has real songs and real stories and if you've ever been hurt, you'll totally relate to her like Whoa. I would follow her around the country if I were rich and slightly tapped.

I would like to thank Jenna W-H for letting me rip a fence down yesterday and use my muscles and tools, and for the juicy and delicious chicken sandwich she rewarded me with. It was a fun end to my weekend alone. Smashing things just makes you feel alive and necessary and a little dangerous. Now I know why rockstars tear hotel rooms to shit. Any aggression I had is now gone, and left to the wood panels I hacked away at and then threw to the wayside. Like an old, worthless lover. Except I've never hit a lover with a crowbar. Yet.
(disturbing?)

Wow, I've been sitting here an hour tick tick ticking away at the keyboard and I feel I've accomplished nothing. Maybe I'll start a monthly newsletter to catch everyone (the three of you who care) up on the comings and goings of my life out here on the West Coast.
Would you read it? (circle yes or no)

I must go now, for the sole purpose of vomiting again. TMI, I know, but I need someone to suffer with. Misery loves company, after all. And stomach bile especially loves others to be present when it rears its ugly yellow head.

Where have all the Grammys gone?

2009-02-10T11:32:00.000-08:00

I'll tell you where, to some place in cyberspace where it's quicker to see who won and there's less "get off the stage, time's up" music to have to answer to. "We must cut down on the showtime (just under 4 hours) so let's GET RID OF THE AWARDS AND MAKE IT A CONCERT!" More on this later...

This year's Grammy recap begins where all Grammy's begin...no, not the mold they're made from, though speaking of mold (and molds), our opening performer is not only old, but he is one of a kind. I of course mean the smashing performance by none other than U2. Led by that adorable little Bono (it's Bahn-o, not BONE-O! Don't make me giggle), who I am happy to see is still able to jump around like the 50-something he was back in the 80's. We can all see where they have gone with this performance: in Ozzy-mumbling style, Bono is starting to age (or get lazy) and it makes for a difficult time understanding his lyrics. Think fast! Let's put the lyrics up behind him! He'll never know, I promise, he'll just see the audience singing every word and be pleased as Irish Whiskey Punch. Let me just say, grandpa never looked so chic...and his eyes! He has revealed his eyes and they're...well...adorned with eyeliner? Hmm, who knew that this whole time he has been hiding this sucidal-angst-ridden-emo-teen persona...

WHitnayyyyyyyyyy! Hey grrrrrrrrllll, wha's up!? Looks like miss thang 86'd Bobby and cocaine, subbed 25 lbs and a new stylist and came up with voila! Perfection. Seems good all around, except maybe for her out-of-work dealer. And btw, Whit, get off of Clive "He's still Alive?" Davis's jock...
Best R&B Album: Of course they had to give it to Jennifer Hudson. Haven't heard the album, so I can't say if it is even warranted, but her acceptance had to make you a little teary-eyed. "My family down here, and in Heaven..."
The Rock...er, sorry, Dwayne Johnson. Yeah, apparently that's his real name. I'm sorry, but if you've seen his movies or listened to him chirp like a school girl, you will agree that he is still affected, still cheesy, and still useless, except in a Speedo and grease.

Justin Mothaf'in Timberlake (he likes when I call him that)! Nice zoot suit, J.T. Here he is pretending to love soul music because he's from Memphis. He brings out Al Green to do a duet. Sorry, dude, up until Justin sang his verse, you were the shit. Now, not so much. Now I'm not hating on the legendary Mr. Green, but I just realized that he doesn't have the lung capacity for a full song anymore, thus, cue Timberlake. Funny how they introduced 4 different musical acts/artists for this performance, what a load that was. Keith Urban=on backup guitar (for 3 seconds on camera, amp not even plugged in) and Boys II Men? What? Whe...oh. The backup singers. Oh yeah, now I recognize the heavy one. That was a cruel trick you played on them, Grammys. But touche.

Coldplay. They always announce Coldplay and then you see...Chris Martin. Yes, I know he's the lead singer, but what must the rest of the band think? "Ok guys, here we go, big Grammy moment! What? Wait here? Oh, they're not ready? Well what's wrong with the piano? Ok, hey guys, just one second, Chris has to fix something {piano begins} Doh! They got us again!" And Jay-Z? For a split second I thought there'd be an uncomfortable moment when Chris would gesture to a stage hand and someone would have to tell Jiggaman, "Yo, dude, you're not on yet. Stop rapping in the middle of Coldpl...er, I mean, Chris Martin's song." Shortly after the accidental rap solo, we finally see the band (their eyes are red, yes. You can see they've been crying...) in all their "Beatle's getup" glory (p.s. before C.M. apologized to Sir McC. for the ripoff of Sgt. Pepper's, I noted the similarity. Just for the record). Oh Chris, sweetie, no. Gwyneth and the Queen may like your exposed, furry happy trail, but we as Americans don't. And we as Americans know all so pull down your shirt--no, come on--further! Good British lad. Thank you.

Keith "I married up" Urban. Look, Nicole, he's dressed and sober! That's all I really have for him.
Donia: "He's British!?"
Leah: "He's Australian. Boy, you really have a hard time with that one*, don't you?"
*she's infamous for mixing up the accents.

Carrie Underwood is revealed and what do we see? Another beautiful flowing dress, legs I'd give my right arm for (but then, what good would the legs do me?), and perfect "just jumped off the back of my hot boyfriend's motorcycle after our hot sex" hair. And what is this? She's singing a song about being slutty. Check and check.
Nash: "She's the cat's meow, mommy"
Leah: "Keep it in your pants, little one"
Oh and p.s., Carrie: Watch out for the low-Grammy-cam-upskirt shot. All the men sure are {wink}.

Here's one for you, mom. SUGARLAND WINS! I know you like them so congrats. I heard the 10 sec clip of their song and I may be teary-eyed. Wait, no...just salsa in my eye. So close...

Song of the Year: Wow! This is like the second award in like, 45 minutes! Just barrelin through, aren't we?! I'm rooting for Jason Mraz cuz he's the only one who sat down and wrote his song all by himself. Wait for it, wait for it...Coldplay! Surprise fucking* surprise.
*It's for reasons like this that I graced you with the Sugarland shoutout, ma.

Kid Rock comes out in all his trailer park glory and I am about to trash him, still wanna, but I can't help but love the politically charged lyrics of the song "Amen". Guess I can always count on him for blunt honesty {cue mugshot pic}. Oh, I spoke too soon, here's the trashtastic "Sweet Home Alamama" knockoff shit. Like clockwork.
Donia: "Remember when he first came out, I thought he was some trashy old guy"
Leah: "He was. He still is."

Taylor and Miley sit stool to stool on the middle stage. They perform a song about how hard it is to be "15". Hm, Miley, you must have left out how hard it is to be 15 and not have sexy pics of you leaked by your fake boyfriends that your dad allows down in your room because you're way too famous for supervision. And Tay, you forgot the verse about how hard it was to have that plastic surgery performed by magical elves to make you go from your real age of 35 to 15. My interpretation of this performance is that they are like the angel and the devil doing a duet; only the devil is a pretentious cocktease and the angel has no life behind her dead, heavily made-up eyes.

Robert Plante? Or is that Willy Wonka in leather and heavy metal rockstar curls?
{scratches head}

J. Hud again. Fitting song. Refuse to mock her wardrobe choice in any way for fear of Hell.

AAAAAAuuuuuugggggggggggggHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! {high pitched scream, of course} THE JOOOOONAAASSSS BROTHHHEEEEERRRS! AAAAAUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH {frightened pitch this time} STEVIEEEEEE WONDERRRR! Wait, what? What have you done, Grammys? The man has written hundreds of songs over the last 40 years of a magnificent career and he just uttered the chorus to "Burnin Up"?

{sly laugh} Genius.

In an off-color sidenote: Joe Jonas {aka "the cute one"} was overheard saying (of Mr. Wonder) to his brothers {aka "the other cute one" and "the less than stellar" one}, "Yeah, he's pretty cool, but he looks like a total douche trying to pull off the whole I'm-so-cool-in-sunglasses-indoors thing. That's so 2008".

Coldplay AGAIN! I can't decide on their new name: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band of Hobo Gay Men or just Teletubbies 2.

Katy Perry...let me tell you who's not proud right about now: her parents, her pastor, her singing coach, her stylist (whom she deceived when she went behind his back to wear fruit), lesbians, her hair stylist, me. She is awful at performing, as evident by the senseless jumping and mediocre-at-best dancing. Fruit, sticky, sweet, we get it. You're a whore. Who is proud right now? The Grammys (though they should'nt be) and her ex bf (for taking out the trash when he did).

Kanye and Estelle come out, middle stage again, and perform their not awful/not great hit "American Boy". I thought she was fantastic, and well, you can't really mess up rapping as long as you're 30% sober, so he was good too. What was not good? Her paper mache dress and well, if I have to say this then you're a dumbass: Kanye's whole being. Get a side by side clip of Kanye tonight and Michael Jackson at the Grammys circa 1984 and you'll have to look for Michael's discolored skin patches to tell them apart. Does this mean that in 20 years Kanye will be accused of and tried for child molestation??!! HIStory repeats itself (and is also one of my fav MJ albums).

"Hey Kanye, Michael called. He wants his clothes and hair back so he doesn't have to run around in jammie pants and a surgical mask anymore. Oh, sorry, I didn't know you purchased those at the Neverland Ranch estate sale along with Bubbles and the llama. We were wondering where those two ran off too..."

Morgan Freeman comes out and says he's friends with Kenny Chesney. I have to break it to you that THERE IS NO WAY THEY ARE FRIENDS, that's just what the teleprompter said.

***Country performance=bathroom break.***

Oh Lord Jesus, no. Herbie Hancock is back!
Ooh, no performance. Close call.

I wonder if Queen Latifah cried a little bit inside when she had to say "The Rap Pack" so convincingly. She's classy enough to know that it was STUPID, I just know she is (she was in "Chicago" for Christ's sake! And that cancels out "Taxi" and "Bringin Down the House", trust me). I also wonder if Sammy, Dean, Frank and the other guy all turned over in their graves when such a comparison was made. I know I did (what?)
So let's analyze this ensemble cast of characters, shall we?

M.I.A.: Really, M.I.A., really? Today is your due date, yet you insist on running around, girating your birthing hips, and squatting with your legs open in gangsta stance, or as I call it, "Holy shit, the baby's gonna fall out!" stance. And you get up there with these clowns? I love em all, but they're clowns in the sense that none of them like to get dirty and I guarantee none of them were even in the same state as their baby mommas when they were poppin out slimy, amniotic fluid covered kids. They will run screaming should your water break, and you'll be left to your own devices, as well as the devices of the front row of screaming preteen Hannah Montana fans. Good luck. Oh, and because you're so maternally disabled right now, I won't mentioned that just before you turned around to welcome the guys in, you lipsynced the wrong verse to your song. Mums the word. {wink}

"Hey Kanye, yeah, Michael called back. Since you won't be returning his things, he's like to know if you would serve as his decoy when he's out in public to hide his withering face from the paparazzi, babysit his kids (they'll never know the difference, we'll say you have a "tan"), and/or play him in a new biopic about his life. Or, should I say a biopic he wrote leaving out all the weird stuff and making him look really cool still. Just have your agent call my agent".
I think I heard Kanye throw a straight up hissy about how he wanted to do his part alone on stage while the other guys waited in the wings. Doesn't like to share anything, that one...

Lil Wayne: Our first sight of him tonight, and you know I'm gonna be biased, but he was the best rapper and the cutest dressed. And the prettiest and the shiniest and he smelled the best. And he was the highest, with the most warrants in the most states. I <3 him.

T.I.: not a huge fan, not so impressed with his performance, and definitely not impressed with the fact that he couldn't even get his momma to do up his bowtie (sorry, Donia)

Jay-Z: Now it's your turn, man. Next time, listen closer to your wife when she's barking orders at you. She didn't say GO! she said NO! Don't make Beyonce beat you!*

One last thing, do you think these guys were as freaked out about M.I.A.'s bumble bee outfit as the rest of the audience? Silly brits and their silly outfits. Yes, Coldplay, I'm still looking at you...

Beautiful beautiful Kate Beckinsale, what I wouldn't give to look like you for a day. Oh, wait, nevermind. What was the hike you just did to your falling down dress. It's the same mindless hike up you see a drunk promgoer do to her dress when her strapless bra is making its way down to her waist because she's so sweaty from the ecstasy and the dancing with the hormone-riddled boys. Classy. Next time, risk the wardrobe malfunction and wait til you get backstage.

Next, Sir Paul McCartney {said in my best British accent} comes out with Dave Grohl. Now let me ask you this: is S.P.McC. really amazing, or is he amazing because he is the only Beatle left standing (I know, I know, but Ringo doesn't count). I'll let you chew on that for a little while.
And in other news, I miss Nirvana.

Hey, look at this, another award, this time for Best Male Pop Vocal. This one goes to JOHN MAYER, who I not only love for his music, but his humor and wit. (Youtube "John Mayer and Ellen sing Just Dance. Hi-larious!). I'd like to thank Bailey for turning me on to John way back when I was so against him. And for the free tickets to his concert. I'd also like to thank God for letting John be born, and to Jen Aniston who keeps him in line and sexed up, so as his fans may enjoy him all the more.

Sugarland and Adele did a dual performance, which meant Sugarland got their own spot for a full song, and Adele got to sing the chorus to her song and have Sugar (of Sugarland) sing backup. Aaaah, there's just too many "Amy Winehouse, but fatter" jokes, so little time.

**At this point I see that only J.T./T.I., Robert Plante and Alison Krauss, Radiohead and Neil Diamond are left to perform. Besides the first one, I'm finding it hard to hang on here. I've endured many hours of these shenanigans at this point, and they certainly didn't seem to save the best for last. I can't quit now, though, not when I owe it to my 3 fans to write them a complete blog, and not when I owe to myself for enduring such painful TV. I've put blood, sweat, and tears into this (srsly, though, I did. I got a papercut taking the original blog notes, Donia turned the heat WAY too high up, and, well, you remember the salsa incident.). I will press on...

Radiohead: I just don't get them. I mean, did I miss the window on them or something? I've always wished I was a fan, but I really don't see what people see in them. At this point I figure you can't teach an old dog new tricks. I am the dog; Radiohead is the "Roll over" I'll never get...

**NEWSFLASH: It was just speculated that Lil Wayne will come out and perform again! I knew one performance couldn't be it, he was just too good this year. I won't get my hopes up too much, though; this show has been going on a long time now. He had to have taken a smoke break by now, and depending on how much he ingested, he may forget to rap at all. I foresee him sitting in the middle of the stage, staring at his shiny shoes, an awkward silence in the crowd while he's dragged offstage by security. All the while giggling...

J.T.: If you propose to me, I promise, like the song says, "the old me will be dead and gone", and we can live a life of happiness and sex(yback) in your big mansion.
T.I.: If you propose, I promise to say yes strictly based on fear. I know about the gun charges...

Of course Obama has a Grammy. Why wouldn't he? All you musicians out there bust your asses for a lifetime in the hopes of receiving an esteemed award, and all he has to do is waltz in and SPEAK NORMALLY and he wins. He probably didn't even write the speech he read. Malia did. I guess it's a sectet shout-out to all those rappers in the audience who single handedly got him elected. No, really, they did. Just ask Diddy yourself.
So now little douchybag Grammy man goes on to say "Yes We Can" 5 times in his poorly written speech. The context that it is used not only is ridiculous, it is irrelevant to the show, and life. If he had any pride he'd go out back and shoot himself for the fool he has made of the Grammys at
large.
But before he offs himself, he pleads to Obama (who must owe him, he gave him a Grammy, afterall) to appoint a Secretary of the Arts. A what? Fine, I'm on board, but if the nominee is not Suge Knight, with Elton John as his successor when he f's up and kills someone (again), then I'm not voting.

Smokey Robinson? Again? Didn't I rant about him and his unnecessary presence last year. Just refer to that if necessary.

Now they're really reaching! Ne-Yo, Jamie Foxx, Smokey and the only living original member of the 4 Tops? This guy does look like he's having the time of his life, but unfortunately he has no idea who these 2 "youngins" next to him are. He also has no idea why that guy that looks like his old friend Smokey Robinson also sort of looks like he's undergone too many cosmetic surgery procedures for his own good. Maybe that's cuz he has, old fella.... I was happy to see him having a good time, though, and I hope it made him think of his other 3 Tops...

Neil Diamond, sir, though I love rockin out to your biggest hits at hole-in-the-wall bars, you're losin steam. I appreciate all you've done for rock and roll, and for the young boys in the 70's who lost their virginity to your songs, but it may be time to buy a ranch and feed your horses and chickens now. This brings me to an idea I have for idiot-head Grammy guy: an oldie after-party. It will be only a half hour long, serve punch and antacids, and the performer will sing "im a little teapot" cuz its a short song and its easy to remember the lyrics. And hey, if Hef decides he'd like to throw it, it could be sponsored by Viagra and there could be free samples at every place setting. Sorry, Bono, you've been bumped to this party starting now. I'm putting you between Herbie and Stevie.

**Now it's 11 and I'm really dwindling. According to my calculations, Weezy is all that's left. Did we even see a half a dozen awards given away? I mean, I love the performances, but come on now...8 of them could have been cut out (thus starting the oldies after party earlier and extending it another 45 minutes, ooh!) and it would have been a good show still.

Here he is, the moment I've been waiting for. And though I'm glad he's not doing "Mrs. Officer", and sad he's not doing "A-Milli", I enjoyed this performance so much! I knew he couldn't just have one verse of performance in this whole show! Too good. The song he is doing is a tribute to New Orleans, and I'm sure the negotiations for this performance went something like this:
Genius Grammy Coordinators: "So, we're thinking edgy, hip, gansta, girls with booties and guys in bandanas throwin up gang signs.
Wayne: "No. New Orleans tribute."
GGC: "You know, Mr. Weezy, sir, that's not really the direction we were go..."
Wayne:" New Orleans. Or nothing".
GGC: {nervous laughter} "Well you know, contractually you have to appear..."
Wayne: " New Orleans, Robin Thicke, Alan Tucson, and a 5 man N.O. jumbalaya band, or else I don't give up my gun at security. Again."
GGC: "New Orleans it is."
{pistol whips them with his gun anyway, for good measure}

As we give out the second to last (4th?) Grammy of the night, we see that our presenters are Will.I.Am and T-Pain, who apparently decided before they came out to play the game "Let's see who can dress more ridiculous!!??" Congrats, guys, you both win. An Old Navy gift card. Now run along and buy something presentable.
They announce the winner for best rap album and let me tell you, I'll admit that was a tough category. No one's album sucked. But of course, the best man-boy (Wayne) won and ran out from backstage to receive his award, while his entire family simultaneously rushed the stage to stand next to him. He hugged his daughter, who is not only already almost the same height as him at 10, but they're in the same grade in school. He was adorable and excited and kept it short and sweet. Just what I like to see at damn 11:00 at night! {Man, this never ends!}

G-damn all that is holy, I forgot about a performance by Robert Plante and Ms. Krauss! F this stupid G-d forsaken night! I'm definitely napping during this...
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Am I DREAMING!!?? Is that Green Day?? Why can't I wake up right now??!! This is a nightmare because they're not performing a track from Dookie! I also dreamed that Album of the Year went to Alison and Robert and not my boy. And he was so frightening and she had such a freakishly small waist! My God, this is the worst dream EVER!

SHIT. It's all real. The whole night has been real. What is my life coming to?

This night is crap and so are these awards. Wayne, get your gun...

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P.s. Stevie, we don't need you to close us out with a song. You may not know it, but people filed out of here like it was on fire. No, it's not on fire, you're safe, but you need to get to the oldies party before all the easy-to-eat pureed food is gone. Hurry!
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I'd like to thank my sponsors (my mom, myspace, and, when my status is updated, Facebook) and all those who had not much else to do and read this for the pure amusement of saying "So this girl I know/used to know, she blogs! Yeah, I know, what a loser, right!"

Goodnight.

Happy Day in America

2009-01-20T19:31:00.000-08:00

Good morning. Here’s your step-by-step Inauguration coverage through the eyes of a girl who is looking forward to seeing Obama’s speech, Oprah’s tears, and “Sasha Fierce’s” performance. I may be on West Coast time, but I am on East Coast coffee…thanks Livi.

.. ..

7:31a: I’m up, against my will, cuz I love to sleep. It’s Inauguration Day!

8:00a: The cavalcade, so fun to watch the peeps scream like mad, as if the Jonas Bros. were walking by. Those cars are indestructible, which at this point seems very necessary, given who is in the car (the new and old presidents).

8:04a: Bunch of guys filing in. Also some women. If I’m being honest, I don’t know half these people. I am still a newbie as far as politics.

8:12a: Cicily Tyson= little bit crazy. Oh yeah, this blog will focus on history, but will no less be sprinkled with celebrity sightings.

8:14a: Biden’s mom looks like she’s giving those Marines that are seating her quite a hard time. She’s prob demanding a better seat and some hard candies. Speaking of oldies, older Bush looks ridic in purple and day-glo yellow.

8:19a: Jimmy Carter, cute as a button. Awww, they had to skip over the 40^th president. May he rest in peace. They coulda let his wife come out for God’s sake! 41^st: oldie Bush. Someone made him cover that turtleneck, thank God.

8:21a: Clinton!!! Poor Hilary, what a trooper. Jeez, people are going crazy for her! She’s doing that smile and “Hey!” thing as she points to those she knows, or pretends to remember. “Hey you! Call me!”

8:23a: Bush’s skanky daughters. Ok, maybe just the unmarried one.

8:24a: Haha, the movers are there as we speak! Can I just say that that’s the second time that Katie Couric has mentioned Obama’s underwear…

8:25: Sasha and Malia! Sassy…better dressed than I’ll ever be.

8:26a: Laura Bush bought a house in Texas for her and George. He’s never seen it. He just has to get on a plane and walk through the front door. Kinda like his presidency, minus the bad decisions and idiotic speeches.

8:28a: Laura Bush=not a MILF.

8:29a: I’m nervous for Bush to come out. Will they cheer or boo? I do feel badly for him…let’s stay tuned.

8:30a: Michelle is out and hugging lots. I’d hate being first lady, that’s for sure! So pretty.

8:35a: Cheney in the wheelchair. Katie firstly said he strained his groin, now she says his back. Get your mind out of the gutter Katie!!!

8:36: HERE HE COMES! Bushy I mean. Hmmmm, I think I hear 3 individual claps. Sad. He looks sad. Now I’m sad. Thanks for bringing me down again, Mr. President (Mr. P. for 5 more minutes!)

8:38a: Lots of stylish scarves today! Is this the Inauguration or a Mark Jacob’s runway show?

8:39a: ok , here he comes!!!!!!!!! Joe Biden gets a rousing welcome…and now…the doors close. It’s like he’s the bride coming down. Oh my God this is so exciting!

8:40a: He looks so scared, and proud. Lots of cheers of course! Yayayayayayaya! O-BA-MA chants!

8:45a: Why don’t the bulletproof walls look high enough to protect??!!

8:48a: Speech one over. Uh-oh here comes Rick Warren. No good, Obams.

8:50a: “You are loving to everyone you have made”. Wow, he paused for applause during his prayer. Doesn’t seem right. Long prayer=Obama and Biden putting their heads up peeking during prayer. The Lord’s Prayer, for those Catholics out there.

8:53: Aretha “biggest boobs I’ve ever seen, biggest ugly hat I’ve ever seen, can’t understand a word she sings” Franklin. Now’s the time for a bathroom break.

8:57a: Joe Biden is the first Catholic VP EVER??!! That doesn’t seem possible. Anyway, he has been sworn in. Sidenote: Biden’s teeth are worth more than my life.

9:00a: Yo-Yo Ma and friends play instruments. I’ve really got nothing else on that one.

9:01a: They just showed a clip of L.A., then Chicago, and wouldn’t you know it, the same crowd was there! Either they have special powers like Jumper, or some dumbass as CBS is getting fired right now for f’ing up the Inauguration. Awww, a little boy in a Chicago school just saw that he was on TV and didn’t know what to do with himself. Precious!

9:05a: President Bush’s term just ended at 12, and only Biden has been sworn in, making him president for 5 minutes.

9:06a: Obama is messing up his oath! So cute! AND HE’S PRESIDENT! HE’S PRESIDENT!

9:07a: The speech begins…”Extend opportunity to every willing heart…” I like it.

9:17a: “Our power doesn’t protect us, nor does it allow us to do as we please”. He should have looked AT Bush when he said that.

9:20a: “The old hatreds will someday pass…your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you have destroyed…we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist…”

9:22a: Kindness, selflessness, courage, willingness, fairness, tolerance, loyalty, patriotism. These are the things he wants from us. Will we follow through, or will we continue to live our own personal agendas? He cannot do this alone, don’t forget that.

9:24a: “A man, whose father would not have been served in a restaurant a mere 60 years ago, can now take this sacred oath…” His black reference. Well said and well received.

9:26a: Speech ends. Crowd goes wild!

9:29a: Elizabeth Andrews, poet. Good poem, but a robot would have read it more eloquently. This is no poetry slam, but she needs more passion in her words!

9:32a: Rev. Dr. Joseph Lowery, older than the Lord himself. Shit, I just realized he was praying. {bows head}

9:35a: {peeks, impatiently}

9:37a: He’s got jokes! “Black wont be asked to move back, brown will be able to stick around, yellow will be mellow, the red man will get ahead man, and white will do whats right.”

9:40a: It’s over. They will now go eat on plates that resemble Lincoln’s china pattern.

9:43a: Now we come to the commentary by all of these newscasters that have opinions. I hate this after sports games and I hate it now.

9:46a: Matthew Bodean, apparently an actor. This is the extent of celebrities. Crap. Beyonce apparently performed the other night. I’m days too late for the Hollywood Glamour.

9:50a: The Bushes board a helicopter. That’s it, it is over. He’s going on with the rest of his non-presidential life now. “What do you think he will do with all of his time?” “Well, all of us close to him are thinking of getting unlisted numbers because we think he’ll have a lot of time on his hands!” hahaha cute.

9:54a: Bush waves goodbye to the nation. Bittersweet. He’s still a human, you have to feel for him on some level. Kinda rude of the newscaster to butt in and say, “…no more m & m’s served in bowls…” while the others said “No more Camp David, no more Oval Office, no more Air Force One…” Bad taste being subjective.

9:57a: Bush flies away. They still point out how bad he was and how some people are cheering the helicopter away. Maybe not the time or place. Maybe I’d feel differently if I were a different person. Right now I think we need compassion though.

.. ..

Apparently there’s an Inaugural Parade. Not sure I’m gonna cover that. Stay tuned for your local news for continuing coverage…

Sometimes you read things and feel sad for humankind; you are frightened for them, really.

2008-12-24T19:24:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you read things and feel sad for humankind; you are frightened for them, really.

There was a blog about the violence inflicted on gay people and the rise of it as more people speak out against discrimination and gay rights. Blah blah blah I didn't even read the blog, but was linked somehow to the comments underneath. I went on to read Denise's comments and was floored.

I have been fortunate enough to have been raised in the most wonderful, normal, and loving family. To this day they drive me to be the best person I can. One thing that I am eternally grateful for is the strength that they have given me. Man bashing aside, though it is a fun past time of ours to blame men for the stupidities in the world (hahhaha right mom. oh , yeah, sorry guys...) my family has very strong women. Not to discount the men, but the women, in numbers, and attitudes, dominate. I know no other way than to be strong, but it does not come naturally. We have all learned this strength and fight throughout the years, as we continue to learn still.

I wanna thank those women I've looked up to for standing up and speaking up. For never giving up. For knowing that when the worst was the worst, it really wasn't, and that they have the power to change it. My response to this poor unfortunate woman is the last one. And no matter what your religious, political, or specifically gay rights views, you can agree that her comments are unnecessary and hateful.

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I found that to be a wake up call. We are always saying that things are changing and as far as I'm concerned, it's not really changing. It's just more taboo for them to bash us in public but I know it's still going on in churches and in homes. You have to wonder what your own family might be saying about you when you walk out of the door.

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by I Have a Thought on December 18th, 2008 at 11:15 am

There's a whole lot wrong with that. The number one thing being you're equating apples and oranges. Sexual deviates are not discriminated against because of some learned prejudice. The reason they are not accepted is because heterosexuals, all to some degree, see the actual physical things homosexuals do with revulsion. As a heterosexual, I promise you that if I imagine myself involved in a homosexual tryst too vividly, I become nauseated. It's not bigotry or senseless hatred you're struggling against, it's nausea. And no one wants to be nauseated. People naturally avoid sources of nausea. When people inescapably have sources of nausea shoved in their faces, they naturally rebel in some way. You mistakenly refer to this rebellion as "anti-gay" violence. You're way wrong with that.

Where the problems come is when people are openly confronted with sources of nausea. A few decades back, when you all were in the "closet", anti-homosexual violence was more rare. That is because there were fewer sources of nausea. If you'll dress and act like the mainstream population out in public and keep what you do in your bedroom, you'll have much fewer problems. If you go out in public rubbing it in people's faces, fairly soon you'll get the shit knocked out of you by someone you're making genuinely physically sick. Simple as that. It's a damn shame you can't understand that and waste so much of your resources and time laboring for the impossible under a futile delusion. Just drop all this rights thing and enjoy your lives in private. Damn, don't you know what a pogrom is? No sense trying to get yourselves nominated as number one candidate for the next one that comes along. Read a little relevant history, keep your heads low, and survive.

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by Denise Stafford on December 21st, 2008 at 4:53 pm

Denise… it's hate like you have displayed in your comment that has this country falling apart. But the greatest thing about a comment like yours is that it reminds people like me to keep my head held higher, challenge history, and live a far greater life than just simply surviving.

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by goldstardyke on December 21st, 2008 at 5:09 pm

Goldstar, I don't hate you or anyone else. I honestly wish you and all your kind the best. But you should agree nature dictates you'll always be in a minority. Period. The essay I responded to pointed out the correlation between heightened homosexual activism and increased violence toward that group. I promise you I haven't contributed to the numbers. Homosexuality is an unfortunate genetic condition to which normal people are hard wired to respond with revulsion despite what drums the freaks in Hollywood beat. You're not going to change human nature. The more hell you raise, the more harm you're going to bring your kind. Just look at results of recent ballot proposals. Quit while you're ahead and be happy before you bring genuine grievances upon yourselves.

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by name Denise Stafford on December 21st, 2008 at 7:04 pm

Denise, I won't go back and forth on the issues. I see things my way and you yours. I wish the world could find a happy medium, but I fear it my never happen. If homosexuals make you want to vomit please move on to another blog.

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by goldstardyke on December 21st, 2008 at 7:57 pm

Denise, I really hope you are a teenager, like myself.

I can tolerate fellow teenagers saying things like that.. because sadly, many 16 year olds are close minded and ignorant of many things.

However I find it truly disappointing and honestly it makes me quite sad to hear adults speak like that. It is disrespectful and unbelievably ignorant. It's quite obvious that this is a website geared towards homosexuals.. so if your views are blatantly against homosexuality, what exactly do you hope to gain from saying such things? I highly doubt any of the authors or writers here (or many other people, for that matter) would agree with your opinion that all heterosexuals "become nauseated" by gays and lesbians.

"The reason they are not accepted is because heterosexuals, all to some degree, see the actual physical things homosexuals do with revulsion." This is a direct quote from what you said, and it is extremely false. You, personally, might become nauseated by "the actual physical things homosexuals do" and that is perfectly fine, however I can guarantee you that not ALL heterosexuals feel this way, mainly because I have many heterosexual friends that are perfectly ok with homosexuality. No one is forcing you to be accepting of certain views, as it is obviously not possible.

However, if you wish to call yourself a respectable adult, I would have hoped that you would have enough maturity to be capable of respecting other people's views, opinions, and beliefs. Do you see me verbally abusing you and telling you that what you do with individuals you are attracted to disgusts me? Do I tell you that you are nauseating? No. So please, especially around the holidays, do us all a favor and pull together enough maturity to grow up.

Em..s last blog post..aaah!

Reply - EmÂ..s last blog post..aaah!<../a><../em><../abbr>'); return false;" href="http://thelesbianlifestyle.com/2008/12/17/reflections-on-violence/comment-page-1/">Quote

by Em on December 21st, 2008 at 8:24 pm

Dear Em and Goldstar,

I'll take one last shot at explaining myself. My response wasn't directed at you two. Probably nothing can be said which could change the minds of such firebrand activists. But not all homosexual females march, riot, curse for the TV cameras, and show the uglier side of themselves to the public in the name of overreaching "rights". Once again I was pointing out the relation between increased lesbian activism and violence against lesbians.

This violence doesn't single out the activists who are stirring the pot of disgust. The victims of the backlash are generally just everyday innocent females, some lesbians, some like myself who are not, who have the misfortune to encounter those you've enraged. These are the women I am trying to persuade to take a second look at your organized activism and the single thing it's undeniably accomplishing for us; increased incidences of assault. I am simply asking readers to consider facts and reconsider supporting these futile and dangerous activist movements.

One fact is throughout the animal kingdom aggression and competition defines male sexual behavior. It is a deadly serious area of natural behavior. The sexual identity of heterosexual males is ultimately the most important aspect of their existence. Threatening or compromising this identity is the single cause of violence against lesbians by male heterosexuals.

All women should realize this fact without the physical trauma of experience; having our teeth knocked down our throats or our little female bones snapped like twigs by enraging the much superior physical power of the human heterosexual male who, by God's design, will continue to dominate our species. It's just common sense. Dress and act like a normal female in public and you'll greatly increase the chances you'll be treated like one

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by name Denise Stafford on December 23rd, 2008 at 9:55 am

Hahahahahahahaha an activist? Honey I'm a 16 year old in high school. I can assure you I wear make up and I dress like a "normal" female, tight jeans, chucks, fitted tops from AE and abercombie… I'm not an enraged dangerous lesbian activist and I find it hysterical that you refer to me as such.

So… Denise I think you should just stop. Really. I dress like a normal female in public, and I get treated like one too. I promise. It's just people like you that make a big stink over things.

Oh, and I'm pretty sure heterosexual males everywhere are cringing over the fact that you made them all sound extremely shallow by saying "The sexual identity of heterosexual males is ultimately the most important aspect of their existence."

************************************************************

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, Oh my God.
I'm nauseated by the comments made by Denise. I am in awe, sitting here at my computer. 1, what is your agenda on a lesbian site posting such hate? ANd I'm sorry, but claim as much as you want that it's not hate, but nothing will ever convince me of that. What is it that draws you to this site? What is it in you that makes you think speaking this way is ok? That is does anything positive for yourself, or us, or the universe, or "your cause"? Why do you seek out those things you don't agree with, people that you only have ill thoughts and feelings towards, and bash them? That is my only question.
Who told you it was a good idea to put your head down and keep quiet? If that were the answer, more than half the people in this country would have their heads down. And I don't mean half are lesbians. Black people would still be slaves. They wouldn't vote, or marry, or have been desegregated. Women would still be quietly coasting through opressed existences and marriages and be barefoot and pregnant, uneducated, unemployed, and silenced in all areas of their lives. This country would be all white instead of the wonderful and culturally-diverse union it is. Obama, Hillary…we would have never seen their faces on TV. Is that the answer for you in your life? Fear the man and take what's coming to you, or worse, just take what you can get? Do you have no fight in you, no drive, no pride? I am not trying to get catty with you at all, I will not resort to name calling or insults, though the "animal" in me would love to settle this the good ole fashioned "animal kingdom" way you speak of. And do you know why I'd win that fight, Denise? Because you are afraid of what you don't know. Can you win, should you try? Are they going to hurt you, cast you out? You don't know. Instead of fighting for yourself, you let others decide what will happen to you. You put your head down and act like they want you to, not as you really feel in your heart. (If you're about to rebut by saying you are acting on what's in your heart by making these arguments, don't even try it. It is not out of love that you speak these words.)
I don't need to run the streets screaming that I'm in love with a female for the ooh's and aah's. But I certainly will never deny it, not for you, not for me, and not for those wishing that I, we ALL, would just sit down and shut up. They wished that with African Americans, and women, and countless other "minority" groups, but they didn't do anything of the sort. And thank God (yes, my GOd is the same God as yours) they didn't. Think of where we, and that includes you, would be.
My only hope for you is love and acceptance, and to actually understand what those words mean. I wish for you compassion and peace in your heart. When you find it, you'll look back and see the error of your ways. You'll see the life you were living and you'll be so glad to finally understand what it is to love and be loved.
Positive karma.

(If this interests you, or sickens you, and you need to read more wonderful rebuttals, go to:
http://thelesbianlifestyle.com/2008/12/17/reflections-on-violence/comment-page-1/#comment-4059

QRSTVW is for Quite Right, Sorry TV Weatherman

2008-12-18T19:23:00.000-08:00

And the U that was left out stands for Ugggghhhhhhh! How could I live in Seattle the winter that is happens to be THE COLDEST SINCE 1990! I didnt sign up for this! I signed up for fog and rain and Starbucks and the city. If I wanted this, I'd be home! Ok, ok, so I didn't leave home for better weather, it was actually some pesky (and I guess cute) girl. And boy does she owe me BIG TIME for this! Not only is it a storm here, too, now, but they are no good at maintaining it! I had to bundle up and walk to work today (pics coming soon...I know, I know, I always say that) and it was pretty cool to see no city traffic or people shoving their way by you. Everyone was in the same boat because everyone looked foolish, as did I. Bundled head to toe in hats and scarves and mittens and puffy coats with rain/snow boots to top it all off. And those who thought they had to look chic and tough it out for fashion's sake just felt foolish. They passed us with what at first looked like pity, but if you looked closer it was actually freezing envy.

Thank God there was a holiday gathering at the office yesterday. I came in to cookies and fruit and pot pie for lunch. Everyone is snowed in, I have no appts because I cant get anywhere and no one can get to me, and theres only 2 of us here today. (Hi JEnna, I know youre reading...how are the boys this time?! Speaking of our boys, NAsh was a MESS during the thunderstorm! Donia was up getting ready and after he ate and heard the 2 big booms, he was on the end of the bed, frozen, shaking like Ive never felt him shake. He wouldnt come to lay with me, wouldnt move at all, for fear that any sudden movement, even his own, would cause that terrible sound again, that was for sure going to get him. Cant wait for a child's reaction. When I asked Donia, "Oh my God, was that thunder!?" She answered, "Nah I think it was just a snow plow. By the second clap, she opened the door and whispered in, "Whao! That was THUNDER!" Such a smart, smart girl. Ok, bye.)

So remind me to tell you guys some time about the story I told my boss about how Nash hates thunder...

8 days until I leave for home, and let me tell you, I’m already there. I’ve been working hard to get all of my final assignments done at the office so that I can go have a relaxing 17 days off (and so my coworkers can have 17 relaxing days without my clients!), and now I’m at the point where it’s just a waiting game. This would be excruciating if I hadn’t just gone home a month ago, but still, the excitement is building every day. And it’s funny because Christmas actually happens before I leave, but I keep forgetting about it. Donia would be mad at me for saying that, and it’s not like we’re not gonna have a good Christmas together. It’s just that sometimes you’re used to Christmas feeling a certain way, and it’ll be the first time in 2 years I’ve seen my fam at the holidays. It’s just going to be great! Donia and I will have a wonderful dinner (prepared by her, mostly, with my help on simple things like stirring, and…um…stirring.) Then we have special gifts and STOCKINGS (her fav) to open up Christmas morning. I actually have to work the day after Christmas, but as I do she will do some last minute prep before we go home, and drop the dogs off at the kennel. Pray pray pray for no snow next week!

When we finally get home we have all sorts of fun things planned like Christmas parties with our families, my 10 year high school reunion, a trip to VT for a night, a birthday party for my sis, a rehearsal dinner, and of course a WEDDING!

Let me just tell you that I’m so excited for my little bro and his lovely bride-to-be. I love their relationship, I love the dynamic of those 2 together, and I love the fact that they’re getting married. I couldn’t be prouder of him as a person and as a man and as a future husband to Kristen. I’ve really only wanted what was best for him from day one. I guess we’ve never been the closest and most affectionate siblings. We went separate ways for a few years there when I was at school and he was working, but every time I see him we are back to where we left off, and I see more and more things we have in common. I guess it only comes with age to really appreciate your siblings. Or its that I live so far away and I see that I took for granted living so close to them before and not hanging out more. I’ve been at points where I’ve wanted to shake each and every one of my siblings about something or another that I thought they should be doing differently or selling themselves short on. I am certain they have felt the same with me. In the end, though, you can’t make someone do something, no matter what reasoning you use (just ask our parents!) As I age, I know I’ll just get closer to them. J

Wow, where did that come from? This snow really brings out the crazy in some people! Sorry to share too much so early. If anyone was uncomfortable with my pouring of emotions, just message me and I can say something rude, witty, or just plain mean to erase it and return to normalcy.

(JK I love my fam/emotions/weepiness)

Ok I gg navigate how I’m gonna get home. I’ve got a lotta hills to climb!!!!!!

C.R.E.A.M.

2008-11-25T19:22:00.000-08:00

So there's this column in the Sunday paper here called "Rants and Raves". In this column, WA residents can write in and either "rant" about someone who did them or someone else wrong in a public setting, or they can "rave" about random acts of kindness displayed. I enjoy reading it every week to see the wide spectrum of do-gooders and assholes this world holds, and to remind myself to always do good and not be an asshole. Lately I've noticed, though, that the assholes are getting more and more careless and are devoid of all human compassion, while the good people we do have are being honored here for things that don't necessarily go "above and beyond". They are just things you should do as a human being! Case in point: one of this weeks "raves" was a guy who was giving a shoutout to all those nice folks who actually stopped and got out of their cars to help him when he'd BEEN HIT BY A CAR ON HIS BIKE! He said that these kind and gentle people saw him laying IN THE MIDDLE OF THE INTERSECTION and held his hand while calling 911. Seriously? Who would NOT stop when a man has been run down by a car??!! Ans it makes you wonder, did they only stop because he was in the way of their cars? I guess I'm just surprised that this is an extraordinary act these days. Then again, there's always the bystander effect, where people see an incident and figure everyone else will do something about it, so they don't really have to. I'm sure the "rave" for this guy was written to just thank those strangers who helped when he had no other way of doing it because they were anonymous. Let's hope that's the case and that stopping for the helpless and injured isn't something only those "exceptional" people would do...

Then we come to a death at the mall. There was a shooting among teens and a kid died. When talking to a friend about this, who had seen the actual newscast, she told me that in the same breath as the reporting of this tragic young death, they also reported "PLEASE NOTE: THE MALL WILL BE OPEN SUNDAY." Don't fret, oh ye of consumerism and greed. Get over it, get back out there and SHOP! They've mopped up the blood and removed the caution tape from in front of your fav store. Just a little shooting. Just a young death. With better outreach programs and schools, we may have been able to save him. But no worries, that's not your problem...just keep swipin that card...

Has this blog become angry and political?

I apologize.

I can't wait to come home this Christmas! the 26th through the 12th, in case you didn't know. I miss the people in RI that I thought were ignorant and rude and careless. They seem like warm fuzzy teddy bears now to me. No offense to Seattle. A city is a city, but there's nothing like a little New England town*...

*foreshadowing to where I will be living next...Check out Northampton, MA.

xo and juicy turkeys (in 2 days--have some Rhody turkey for me!)

President Obama

2008-11-05T19:21:00.000-08:00

It's done!

Obama is our president!!!

Holy shit!!!!!!!!

Of course it’s about the election

2008-11-04T19:20:00.000-08:00

So, 1: VOTE!!

I feel like a kid and tomorrow is Christmas. Except it could go one of two ways: I either get every toy I ever wanted, or I find Santa's mangled, bloody pulp of a body under the tree...

NFLove

2008-09-07T19:19:00.000-07:00

Im up at 9:30. On a Sunday. Headed to a bar...

Before you start organizing an intervention, remember that we are three hours ahead of you (and smarter) here on the West Coast. Therefore, rolling out of bed at 12:30 and relocating to the couch to enjoy football all day is not an option. Waking up bright spanking early (on a WEEKEND) is my only option. And not having cable, waking up early and jumping in the car to head to the Wheelhouse is the new plan for Sundays.

It just feels wrong to drink this early. You know, it would be a little better if I never went to sleep last night and just partied through til today. But alas, I am old and withered and need my rest. How do I make this less awkward/inappropriate on the Lord's day? Start out with Mimosas.

BTW I am sitting here in a Seattle bar with the laptop out and connected to free wi-fi. I am clad in a Favre jersey and some yoga pants. I have been heckled three times now by the 10 people that have gotten up early to join in the football festivities because Favre is playing on the TV in front of me. But unlike me, he's wearing green and white.

I just wanted him to suck so that I could say, "Fuck it, we lost a shitty quarterback, good for us". THESE WORDS ARE NOT THE WORDS GOING THROUGH MY HEAD! And they are certainly not the words leaving my mouth. Instead, there are sighs and 'fuck' under my breath, and the longing to have things back the way they were. Im nostalgic and sad.

In case anyone is tired of hearing me bitch about my loss, GO SCREW! Tom Brady just left the Pats game with a questionable return, and I bet all of you are having panic attacks and whining like bitches. Looks like you need a box of tissues, and he, a box of band-aids. At least he'll be back...

Ok, Im gonna try to stop. Im gonna try to have a good season and stop thinking about my misery.

Other things Im gonna "try" to do this season
(that may be easier than getting over the loss of dear Favre):

Grow a penis
Qualify for the US Open next year
Shrink 7 inches
Make water into wine
Walk home to see my mom
Meet Michael Jackson. Black Michael Jackson
Swim the English Channel
Solve a rubik's cube
Set a new world record for "Darkest Tan" on a human being. Ever.

Wish me luck.

It hurts a lot

2008-08-24T19:18:00.000-07:00

Here is a list of things that could occur that would be less awkward/horrifying than seeing Favre in a Jets jersey on TV:

1. Walking in on my parents in bed together. My DIVORCED parents!

2. Walking out of the house accidentally without my clothes on.

3. Tripping and falling in front of a group of people and smashing my face and having to run home bleeding.

4. Watching an ex make out with my mom.

5. Saying the wrong name in bed.

6. Finding out I was adopted.

7. Talking shit about someone right in front of them, realizing it, and having to pretend it was a joke to save face and not get my ass kicked.

8. Realizing you just got your period on "Wear white to work" day.

9. Pooing yourself. Accidentally of course.

10. Finding out the love of your life has run off with your best friend and they are having a baby and have taken your dog and your belongings and your dignity with them.

You think kids are a lot of work...

2008-08-23T19:15:00.000-07:00

...try 2 wayward, gluttonous chihuahuas!

So its my turn (she does it every week, I do it once every 6 months) to take out the trash. Im trying my best, gettin it ready for the trek down to the dumpster on my way to work when, alas!, I am distracted by something insignificant.

Long story short: the garbage sits on the deck all day.

And because of my haste, I also left the door open.

I arrive home with Donia at 6:00 and see trash all over the deck! Since Mr. Gus has been locked up because of the previously mentioned obsessive pee situation, he cannot (surprisingly enough) be the culprit. Theres Nash, sitting bright eyed and bushy tailed by the trash hes ripped open and strewn about.

Heres where the mistakes continue...

In my blinding rage, I quickly pick up the dirty newspapers, let Gus out of his pen, and run to get the door shut and the trash picked up before any more damage can be done. Gus thinks its buffet night at The 1020 and begins to sniff around and lick the floor, rug, and ingest any trash he can. During this shitshow of 5 minutes, I decide to feed them so as to distract them from the chaos. This works, but I have now screwed myself even further.

Nash jumps up after hes done eating and I notice...Jesus he is fat! Like fat, like hugely bloated fat! Shit! I quickly start to spiral into a panic! Have I not only let him gorge himself on trash all day and then enabled him to be even more of a pig by pouring him a bowl of dog food...YES!
The worst part of this thing hasnt even happened yet...listen on...

As Donia surveyed the trash situation, she noticed what hed eaten: veggies, a turkey sandwich and, worst of all, chicken bones! Chicken bones splinter and cause problems like possibly internal bleeding, large vet bills, and/or death! I call Vet Dawn immediately, google the closest vet, and Donia and I discuss the next step. We are supposed to see a Mariners game tonight, 7:00, its 6:15, but Im so scared that if we leave him, he may get really sick and we wont know. We wont know until 11 pm when we return from the game and hes keeled over bleeding from the ass.

Now, she knows I dont wanna go to the game to begin with, so I dont even MENTION the prospect of not going. Im thinking it, but not saying it. She brings it up first and I beg beg beg her to know Id never use this excuse to get out of the game. Promise! I actually feel really bad at this point cuz she loves the games so much. She is FANTASTIC though and very understanding and deserves someone way less irresponsible than me. She knows this.

So we are now sitting and watching the game from the comforts of our living room on tv. We actually put the tix on craigslist for free and only one guy called, and then said nevermind! Shows you just how bad those Mariners are, I guess. Instead I got her some wine and a cozy blankie and have to wait on her hand and foot or the night for causing us to stay home (I chose to do these things, she did not demand it. She is enjoying it, though)

If there was a DCYF for dogs, Id be the poster-mom for bad pet owners.

Update: we took the dogs for a walk to, 1 get outside since were missing the game, and 2 to work a bowel movement out of Nash (hopefully one of many). It worked, and it doesnt look like its gonna be a fun night if Nash keeps doing what he did in the grass outside our apt...

Gus's hangover

2008-07-01T17:19:00.000-07:00

These two, surprisingly enough, have nothing to do with each other. They are just two things that need to be discussed, like my dreams the second I wake up, or politics, or what your "Safe Word" is gonna be. Read on:

Donia was having a homemade raspberry iced tea. She "joked" and asked me to put vodka in it. I, of course, oblige when someone requests booze. She is sipping away and forgets that she is drinking alcohol, mind you, when little Gussy comes crawling up and wants to sip mommy's drink. She allows this, as she has this thing with the dogs where she lets them LICK HER FOOD AND DRINKS with their dirty (or so Ive heard, clean) mouths. Popsicles, ice cream, beer...etc, etc.
So Gussy has a few sips, and wouldnt you know it...wow! Look at that! Gus has puked! At this time I am not aware of the sippy-sippy these two just played. I clean the vomit and we proceed with the day. When we return home hours later, there are vomit piles all over...3 or 4 to be exact. I start wondering what could be wrong with poor Gus, when it dawns on Donia, "Mother of the Year", that she let him sip her drink cuz, "they always sip the beer".
Number 1, to all 4 of you readers out there: we do not let the dogs drink. It's not something we practice. Nash has been sober way too long (3 years this November) to mess it up now, and Gus is only 14 in dog years. The legal drinking age in America, human or otherwise, is still 21. In bars, restaurants, and in our home.
Number 2: she is not a bad mother, and this is no sort of foreshadowing for the children we may have. They will not drink. Vodka. Rum, on the other hand, is less caloric and easier to mix with sodas that wont clog a baby bottle like juice will...
I am perturbed at her for this little snafu, yet I forgive her. The boys lick the condensation off our glasses all the time, and sometimes theres a drop of beer ingested here or there. No big deal, right? Wrong---vodka kills! And vodka makes chihuahuas throw up on your rug or bed or couch or anywhere comfy and cozy thats hard to clean. Trust me, I know.
So now we are stuck with a hungover dog on Saturday. He was mopy and tired and whining about wanting fried foods just like I do after a hangover. He is absolutely fine now, after chanting, "Im never drinking again" over and over.

Havent we all...

It's the end...and I feel fine.

2008-06-24T09:26:00.000-07:00

Ok, I know that people hate to hear about other people's dreams. In my defense, other people's dreams are about like bunnies that talk and smoke and then turn into your mom. Random and boring. If I dont get this one down, and if at least one person doesn't read it, my head'll explode.

It was the end of the world. The government told us it was the end, we had like 10 days. It all played out like that scene in Titanic where the band is playing up on the deck and they just flash scenes of couples and families huddling together, waiting to die. Thats what we were all doing. We were all (every family everywhere) frantically rushing around to visit with each other before the end. We were wondering if it all would just stop, and go blank, and we'd be no more, or if we'd all drop dead, or die slowly. The worst part was that there was a scene in this dream where a man had a knife and said the animlas were dying slow painful deaths, so he had to kill them quickly. I handed him Nash and ran away. I wanted to remember him alive and not see anymore. As we came to the last days, there was no background noise. There were no screams. There was absolute silence. Everyone was eating with their families and preparing. I remember seeing my family, my cousins, baby cousins. People were getting fresh haircuts and their nails done and buying all sorts of stuff to eat for these big "last feasts" with each other.

Then I was talking to DJ and noticed that everyone was spending money. And we figured out that, supposedly, the last day of Earth would be April 15...tax day. So, everyone had all this extra money and were spending it all because, well, who cares at this point. Then we started to wonder, what if the president (it was Bush, I saw him) was lying about the end of the world? What if he did it to get people to spend money and put it all into the economy? We started to doubt that it would all end that day. We figured when it all kept going that he'd get on TV and say "I guess it will go on! Hooray!" and no one would be upset about spending all their money because of the sadness and impending doom they had faced. They would be thankful. His tricky little way of getting our money...
I woke up in a panic and dont know what happened.

****Real life****
I guess you could say I worry about the state of our country right now.

The King of (Soda) Pop

2008-06-16T14:12:00.000-07:00

At one time he was a legend. He was on top of the World, no one even close to knocking him out of the spotlight. And now? Well, lets not get into now. For, whatever your opinion is on Michael Jackson, it doesnt matter right now. Right now we are discussing the legend, circa 1986 when he was the biggest thing on the planet. No, srsly, the BIGGEST. It went 1.God, 2.Michael Jackson, 3.Coca-Cola, 4.the rest of the world. Trust me, I was part of his adoring fans who thought he was the best thing to come along, since, well, me I guess (we all love ourselves at that age, right? It isnt til puberty that we loathe our existence).
This blog was prompted by my receiving all of the MJ CDs form the Seattle public library. I have put them all onto my iPod at this point and I couldnt be happier. Yes, I could sing them to myself from memory, but my voice is far too low to sound authentic. On our way back from a trip to the Hellish Everett Mall (dont ask), we put on the Thriller album. It got me thinking: when else has anyone ever made such a scary song? A song that sent chills, especially if you learned it when you were young. Donia still hates the Vincent Price laughter at the end. She actually asks me to turn it off! (I dont, of course, cuz its fun to watch her squirm). There is no other song like Thriller. Rap may try to scare you with threats of gang violence, but we aint scurrred. Marilyn Manson and his emo buddies may try to frighten you with makeup and fake blood and talks of worshipping the devil, but, come on now! Satan = not scary. That stuff is shit compared to Thriller! It's a cult classic-literally!-and will go on forever as one of the most successful songs of all time. As will MJ go down [insert pedophile joke here] as the most successful artist, behind Elvis? Maybe even ahead of him...
Listening to MJ brings me back to a time in childhood when my jobs in life were to:
1. Go to school and pretend I didnt like Michael Jackson (Christian/Crazy school)
2. Play Barbie's with Audrey on the weekends
3. Listen to NKOTB, et.al.
4. Eat Little Debbie snacks.
5. Not swear
6. Build forts in the woods, play manhunt, and be sure to check in when the streetlights went on.

those were the days...

This has inspired my Top 10 Favorite MJ Songs Of All Time, according to Leah:

10. Who Is It?

Despite lots of people hating the Dangerous album, I loved it. Off The Wall and Thriller were a bit before my time, but once I loved MJ, thats when Bad and Dangerous came out. Those were my favs by far! So this song is just cool cuz I love the background beat (which I like to think Michael beat-boxes himself) and the chorus is fun to sing along with.

9. They Dont Care About Us

This is from HIStory. Again, HIStory wasnt the highest acclaimed album, but I made sure I planned ahead, booked my mom and the car, and was off to the store to buy that tape the day it came out. I saved my money up. I waited months! It was the most excited Id been about an album release up to that time. I was so proud that I got a version (which was later edited)of the album that had the words "Kike Me" in this song. I didnt know what it meant, and when I did I didnt think it was very nice, but I had it and I felt special Id squeezed in my purchase before the recall by the FCC, or whoever it was that ordered the phrase to be banished. When I recently got the CD fromt he library and put it on the computer, I listened for the famous line, but it was a mess of 'kkshkshkkk' and gurgling sounds. Ill always know the truth, though...

8. Black or White

The special video, which they showed in between 2 sitcoms on prime time tv, was fantasic. Who didnt love Macauley and Michael being friends (until later, of course)? This song is happy and gleeful and promotes love for all. As do I. And then, remember the ending when Michael destroyed the car (for what reason? Anger? Michael? Couldnt be!)? All the viewers were offended and appalled at the violence. Fast forward 15 years, bet theyre wishing people would just smash cars on TV still. That was nothin.

7. Jam

People used to make fun of me (and may still) for loving Jam. So silly, Michael J and Michael J, one on one, it wasnt believable, and kinda corny. I agree. But the song---fantastic! So entertaining to me, forget the video! It aint too much to Jam...doodoodoodoo....it aint to much for me just JAM! Who the fuck knows what MJ was Jammin to. And who the fuck cares.

6. Say, Say, Say

I can see this video in my head, something about Michael and Paul McCartney and a carnival and a fire. I just loved the song though, and I had no idea Paul had been a Beatle when I first heard it. Just Michael's less famous singing friend. :) (I was young).

5. Scream

I was much older when this came out (14?) but not a bit less excited than I was the day I got my Michael Jackson T-shirt as a child. It was green....reallly green...and had an iron on of him in concert singing. I wore it all the time, til the iron on was wearing off. Scream had the best video, and me and my cousins (yep, only got three, and one wasnt born yet, so you figure out who they were) got the single, went into the back yard with our boombox and side ponytails, and learned the dance. We practiced for hours. I was 14, yes, but not having had sex yet, I was still dancing with my cousins. Some parts were too hard for us, we werent trained professionals like Michael and Janet, so we modified those moves and pressed on. Still, everytime I hear it I remember a few parts and wanna perform for the nearest crowd.

4. Man In The Mirror

Another good-hearted and touching [insert jokes...]song by MJ. Gonna make a change. We need to re-release this song to the world. However bad stuff was back then, its gotta be worse now. Or maybe we should just send a copy to George W. instead. I remember seeing the girls that would pass out at his concerts and be carried away looking like limp rag dolls. I remember this song moving people to rag doll status repeatedly.

3. Remember the Time

I think it was the dancing in this song that got me hooked. So much about Michael was his videos. Yeah, the songs were great, but then to see them as a story and dance routine made them that much better! This is still my favorite dance video of his, but one that was too hard for me to learn in the yard (so sad!).

2. Dirty Diana

Were coming up to the Top 2 songs that I love. They have lots in common, and one is that me and DJ loved them both the most. We had no idea why Diana was "Dirty" or what the song meant, but it was so hardcore for Michael and we latched right on to it! The video was great with his hair and button down white shirt blowing in the wind (machines). Learning what it was actually about later in life made it all the more edgy and cool.

1. Smooth Criminal

Hands down favorite MJ song ever. There was a period of my childhood when DJ and I would get to rent movies every weekend. For a while there, we came upon "Moonwalker", and from then on (could have been months, who knows) we'd keep renting Moonwalker and watching it over and over all weekend. We. Loved. It. And of course, if youve seen it, you know that this song has a huge part in the movie. A huge COOL part in the movie. Its a must-see if you love MJ, and still have a VCR...its only on VHS:( My only wish for the upcoming generation is that they know that Alien Ant Farm was not the original artist to record this song.
Another wish, that will never be granted, is that future generations know MJ for what he was, not what he is now.

There are rumors that the sugar-daddy who helped Michael save the Neverland Ranch may make him pay it back in concert performances. In Vegas. Like Celine or Cher.
I.Am.There.

Is it bliss, or just the muffins?

2008-06-09T13:37:00.000-07:00

Donia makes fantastic muffins. I thoroughly enjoy trying to get her to put all different ingredients into muffins now. I dont eat all of them, but theyre sure fun to create...

Muffins have nothing to do with my post, really. Donia and I have been together for 365 days today. You must be thinking, "Well, that's a year today!" but I say, "No, it's a leap year". So, tomorrow is the actual date we got together, technically 366 days ago. I guess I'm just posting this cuz I'm happy and proud of us and inherently grateful to her for being the person she is. Such a well-rounded, kind, caring, and PATIENT individual with the same ideals about life and it's importance and meaning as I do. Plus, we get along smashingly! Ive never had so much fun with someone as I do with her. We have a lot of respect and admiration for each other, which has never waivered, no matter what we've gone through. It's been a trying year, and I'm sure there are more hard times ahead. I'd just like to say that she's wonderful and I'm very happy we've had this last year together. Here's to many more...

I know not everyone in my life agrees with our relationship, but it is real and we are doing very well. On my own personal level, I just don't understand how you can love someone so much and it be wrong. This is not to spark a debate over my blog. It is simply to say that I'm very happy, and though some don't think I should be happy by way of this relationship, I just want it to be accepted for what it is. I'm not out to change the world, or anyone's individual beliefs. Our relationship is not invisible or less than anyone else's. We are not a waste of two human beings. How is it that two good people can be together but be doomed? I don't understand it, or have all the answers myself. Just know we love each other and respect each other like any other couple. It is all you could ask for in life...

It was no George Clooney ER...

2008-06-06T13:37:00.000-07:00

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind was blowing and the sky was a frightening shade of grey...

No, seriously, this is Seattle, it really was!

So last night Donia and I were just chillin at the crib, havin a raspberry iced tea, watching a little local news. I, as usual, was trolling the internet and Donia, as usual, was in the kitchen. She was putting some dishes away and, being the small fry that she is, reaching on her tippy toes to get stuff on the top shelves. I heard a crash and a grunt and giggled as I asked, "Are you ok?" She answered with, "Yeah, Im fine. If I was hurt you wouldn't hear anything, I'm usually quiet at first if I'm hurt." "Not me", I said, "Id be screamin!"

Fast forward 10 MINUTES. I hear another crash and immediately a scream. I throw the computer on the table as she's saying "Oh God, baby, I hurt myself. Oh no, I cut myself!" I knew she was serious this time and not just playing off of our convo from earlier. I jump up and run to the scene of the accident: I see the vegetable slicer, with its large blade, on the floor, and her keeled over holding her hand, blood on the paper towel she'd grabbed. Fuck. Im frantically like, "Are you ok, are you ok!? Oh God look at it, are you ok?" She gets upset for a sec and says," I don't know, ok..." and as she looks down she panics and says "Oh God, I need stitches". She insists I look at the wound, too, but I'm already shaking and afraid of seeing the blood, never mind a gaping cut. Now, we are set into action and I immediately go into panic mode (I suck at this stuff!)

I run around like a crazy girl in search for shoes, purses, a towel for the wound, and her wallet. She is just silent and calm, holding her hand tight. We run out the door and luckily, thank God, we live directly across the street from the hospital. We run up and down blocks following signs for the ER. We walk in and, well, they take their sweet ass time even asking us why were there. I'm so out of breath, and the girl doesn't even bat an eye! I tell them, "She cut herself" and she says"...ok. Has she been here before?" Not, "how badly" or "let us see", just "Do you have her insurance card?" There was just no sense of urgency in this girls bones! I was wondering if Id walked in with half my face hanging off if she'd have made me dig through my wallet for identification and confirmed my address before even taking me in! Needless to say, she sucked. No one saw the wound, and we are told to go sit down. Its 10 minutes before anyone even stirs, and so I say, "Show them you're bleeding through the tissue, tell them its not a minor cut!" As she stumbles over to the counter, again, being ignored, a woman calls out her name. This woman must have been the triage nurse. She gets Donia's info, does her vitals, but can barely help her control the bleeding cuz she has no idea where the supplies are! She has us sit down 5 more minutes before she brings us to the suture room. Or, as I like to think of it, the worst room you can possibly be in. Stitches make my skin crawl, they make me itch just thinking about them. I hate looking at pictures of people with stitches. Like nails on a chalkboard for me. We are in the suture room 20 more minutes before this really cool kid came and did some survey for the hospital, asking about emergency contacts, religious preference (yikes! in case of death??), and demographic info. Finally, after another 25 minutes or so, the "Physicians Assistant" named Tom comes in to sew her up. He's dry and corny, but funny. Typical hospital worker trying to put a patient at ease. He looked like Dr Drew, which was fun for me. He threw the packaging of the supplies he used all over the counter, like a mad scientist. He even had some playful banter with a nurses aid named "Jojo" to keep us entertained. All in all, I sat at the other side if the bed and held Donia's hand while he gave her shots, cleaned blood, and stitched away. My head was turned to the wall, and yes, Tom, this is how I would like to stay.

She was very brave and I'm impressed by her. I would have been a stupid mess over nothing, but she keeps things in perspective so well. When asked on a scale of 1-10 how bad her pain was, she said 5. Later she told me, "Well, I couldn't say 10. 10 is like having a baby. Nina was a 10. I cant say I'm that bad". Ha! I would have answered 11 if it was me. Such a tough little champ, if she enjoyed sweets and girly toys Id have taken her out for ice cream and bought her a Barbie doll for her bravery. Thats what always got me through...
So now shes loopy and hurting and I have to take care of her. And by that I mean change her dressing, wrap it before her shower, and do all the dishes for the week, the latter being the most devastating one. I love her, but I don't love dishes. Oh, listen to me, going on and on about how I'm suffering through this injury...

*Wait, its my blog. I can do what I want. Ok, back to me...*

So, I insist on waiting on her hand and foot, and it's not even really that bad of an injury (so she says). I guess its just what you do for someone when you love them. *And when you anticipate you may need some waiting on someday and you wanna be able to pull the "remember-that-stitches-time" card...*

So, in case you were wondering, the exact story of how this happened was that she was going to make coffee and as she reached for a filter, the veggie slicer she'd put haphazardly on the top shelf came crashing down. She instinctively went to catch it, or at least stop it from falling, and it came straight down, Guillotine style on her finger. Sliced right into her. Had it been any sharper she may have lost some of her finger, I'm guessing. Also, had it not been made in 1954, and had we not just bought it 6 days ago, this crisis may have been averted. Oh well, live and learn. Lesson 1: Leah puts dishes away on the top shelves. Lesson 2: Maybe items that contain open and sharp blades/daggers should be put on lower shelves.

Quote of the night: Right before going to sleep, Donia utters, "I hate my mortal body". (As opposed to her IMmortal body? Yeah, interpret that as you will, it was way too New Testament/Sci-Fi Channel for me at that late hour.)

Were just thankful it didn't fall on her face or head, and that her battle scar will be mini.

oh, and it got us a three day weekend...

No I dont want a free fucking credit card, I just want my dignity back!!!!!!

2008-06-03T11:39:00.000-07:00

As someone who's worked in the business...of selling, that is...I know the ins and outs of "special offers" that actually can screw you instead of aide. "Good deals" are not always good. "Free" is never free. But alas, we are told by our managers to "upsell". If you suggest something to someone, they are more likely to buy it. Yes, I have seen this executed and actually work, but I was not a good salesperson. I knew the person didnt want to hear my overly rehearsed spiel about how great the Margaritas were (but not the cheap ones, the over-priced ones.) The bigger salad is better (but not better for you). A Gift Card would make a great gift! Blah blah blah, I couldnt stand there with a straight face while the guests were just wishing Id go away and leave them to their steaks. I sucked.

Fast forward to yesterday when I realized just how bad consumerism has gotten. Businesses want your money, bottom line. They dont care about you, they certainly dont care about your finances or bills. They are hoping you are dumb enough to have credit and use it frivolously. If you dont...well, theyre the first ones to offer you a special card that will help you pay for the things you dont really need. Case in point: Donia and I visited the mall yesterday. We had an errand to run there, one single transaction that would have taken 5 minutes. Neither of us could stand the thought of sitting in 40 minutes of traffic just to reach our destination, walk in, and walk out minutes later. We decided to walk around the Northgate Mall a bit and browse for summer clothes. We passed many stores before we came upon the first one that caught our eye-Victoria's Secret. Now, I know this sounds R-rated, but really, all Donia does is rave about their bras. She uses the word "quality" a lot when referring to them, so I know she means business. She wants things to last until the end of time. She wants the world to be coming to an end and still be able to use the toaster she bought 80 years prior and turn on the TV thats older than dirt. She believes in forever...with allll things. Im not much of a Victoria's Secret girl, Im fine with whatever I find wherever. All my girl friends have tried to make me feel bad or incompetent because of this. How could you not buy all of your undergarments from VS!!?? Its a sin! I always thought, 'How is it that this Victoria has monopolized everyone's boobs'? How did this happen that she owns everyones privates and only losers dont go there to outfit their naked bodies? Whoever she is, shes smart I tell ya, cuz every girl past the age of 13 has it ingrained in their heads that their breasts and asses will suffer terrible deformities, rashes and look awfully disfigured if they are not fitted into a super-expensive garment from VS. Why is this? Cuz their moms think the same twisted thing...
We enter VS and Donia immediately takes me to the supportive, quality bras. Black. White. Tan. This is what supportive looks like. Ok, fine, I think. My bras are old and I could use a new one or two. She immediately finds the sale (thats my girl!) that was posted on a sign out front. Jesus, depending on how big your girls are, you could pay up to 70 bucks for one of these suckers! She finds the 2 for $40 rack (no pun intended) and tells me "These are good". Ok, oh sacred guru of bras, lets get crackin. I find my size (which I will not disclose, thank you very much) and we head to the dressing room. Now comes the scariest part of all...the...salesgirl! The evil evil salesgirl thats so bubbly and happy to be alive in this glittery pink store that she almost explodes! She asks us if we found everyhting, if we had trouble, if we need help, if we are satisfied, if we wanna try them on, if we like them, and if theres anything else she can do just BUZZ her from the room and she'll fetch other sizes! She should have asked if well needed therapy after this session cuz I know I will. I now have PTSD from the horrific experience.
Jesus, I just entered high class shit here. I thought only Oprah was treated like this but no, the little people get it too. Only at VS, of course.
We answer "yes" to the trying on question, and she attempts to open ONE dressing room door. Does she thinks were friends that cant possibly want to not model our bras for each other, to want to critique each and every inch of them, to only know if we should buy them through the advice of the other? We werent holding hands or anything, so she wouldnt know we were together. Who knows what it was she was thinking, but I had to intervene. "Um, excuse me, ma'am. Hi, um, you see, as much as we love each other and have no secrets between us, etc.etc., we are indeed like all other women and would like to try our bras on ALONE. In different dressing rooms. Yeah, thanks, youre great. Oh, nope, thanks, Im fine, I can apply a bra to myself without hurting myself or screwing it up. Yep, Im good like that. What? Buzz? Yeah, sure, Ill buzz you..." Youre goddamn right I didnt buzz her! Fuck that, I can find new sizes. I dont need to stand there topless while she flits about the store looking for the perfect bra for me. Its just not right. Im a big girl and I can put my shirt on and leave the room and find the bra and return to the room and try it on and you know what? Ill not even think twice about those precious moments I made my feet take 50 steps to do it. Ill live the life of the less priveledged if this is what it entails.
Through my door I hear Donia emerge from her room and she's bombarded. "Howd they feel/look/snap/hold? Do you like/love/want/need to have it? Can I get you matching panties/underwear/thongs/robes/perfume/leggings? No? So just the bra? And it fit? Wow". I come out seconds later and before I can be swarmed by the Fairy Bra-girl, I grab Donia and we have a private pow-wow (which Im sure someone had to be taping and playing back somewhere at a faraway VS headquarters). I ask her if it was weird here and here and did it stick out a bit here and yes oh good cuz it did on me...and then here she comes. Salesgirl. Evil in the form of a tanned Prom-Queen wannabe.
Sometimes in life we make mistakes. Some are small; others, well, they can be quite devastating, leaving our life and everything we knew and loved in shambles. My mistake: telling her of my bra concerns. She immediatley looks at me like I just lost a loved one. Such despair and disappointment, such deep sympathy for what Im going through. She offers to get me a new size. New size, mind you, this is what she says. Well, shes a fucking lying fairy salesgirl with the remorse of serial killer and the heart of Satan. I put all of my trust in this girl and what does she do? She reaches into my chest and pulls my heart right thru it...past the boobs she claims to live to help! She stomps it on the floor and then spits on it, all the while glittering and smelling so lovely of the VS scent of the month. This sales girl tricked me, and I will never forgive her, as long as I live. As long as my boobs stay North and can be tamed by a normal everyday store-bought bra, I will hold this grudge. Her indiscretion: she came back with not the bra that I wanted, but a different bra that she thought would suit me better! As if she knows me! As if she knows my struggles in life! As if she took on my soul at that moment and knew what was best for my chest! Pssshhh. You dont know me or my body parts, little girl. You bring me back a hot pink soft fluffy piece of crap like this!? Shove it up your VS-clad ass!

I pretend to try the bras on, but I now know 3 things: 1. I dont like them and theyre different than the others, 2. She claimed they were "better" cuz they werent on sale like my others, and 3. shes a cheating whore.

I emerge from the room when I hear her go fetch a bra for another girl. I am worn and tired, and I figure this is my only chance to get away unscathed. I peek around the corner, all super-hero spy sleuth-style, and I make a break for the original display of 2 for $40 bras. I can just get my size back and go. 1..2..3...RUN!!!! I am almost there when, fuck! There she is! And she has my original bras in hand! I have the fleeting thought of knocking her out cold with the torso of an underwear manequin and making my way to the register quickly, but I decide against it. Too risky. Ive gotta keep my head about me now. I cant let her win. Where is my sidekick!!!??? Oh God, Donia is gone, Im on my own, Im hungry and scared and praying I make it to tomorrow.
She turns swiftly and sees me out of my designated changing station. "How. were. they?" I hear it as if the world were in slow motion. I try to think fast, Im afraid of her, of what Ill say and how shell reprimand me and send me back to the dressing unit and make me strip and wear the pink bra and scream at me that I do want it and that Im a pussy and that no one'll ever want me if I dont wear it and like it! I answer skittishly, "Um, well, I, um, I guess theyre ok but I, uhhh, I like the first ones I had after all." She stares into my soul, full of disappointment. She wants to slap me and throw the bras at my face, but I can tell shes decided to be more professioanl than that. She sighs and says, "well, ok", and gently flops the bras into my hand. Shes defeated. But really, so am I...

I take them and know my life has been spared this day. I look feverishly around all the different VS rooms for Donia, when I finally see her staring blankly from a designer chair, her pink bag in hand. She is weathered, but not worn. She's made it farther than I have, and I envy her at this moment. She gets up and approaches me, seeing the worry and fright on my face. I tell her "Move, move, dont look back. Just keep walking". I get to the register and have to stand there for 7 minutes waiting. Why is this? Well, first off, all the sales girls are out fetching bras for topless and helpless customers, so only one cashier is available. Secondly, do you know how else they attempt to pamper you? Well, they start by killing 1000s of trees and dying the paper they get from them pink. They then wrap each and every indiviaual undergarment you buy in this paper. As if putting them in a bag touching each other will ruin their reputations, or soil their beauty. Of course, just because this is the shopping day from Hell, the girl in front of me must have gotten a gift card, cuz she bought more undergarments than a person could wear in a lifetime. Do I wanna have kids and fund their college educations? Nah, Im gonna spend that fortune on lingerie. Dumb, dumb girl. While Im sandwiched in between two crystal cases of gloss and perfume and oil and lotion and polish and rouge, I see the salesgirl I offended with my denial of her bra suggestions. She flashes me an evil grin, as if to say, "You think youve won, but I always win, bitch" As if she has the ability to curse my boobs and any other bra that ever touches them. And you know what, Im convinced she just may...

I finally get called over by the girl whose only dream in life is to cash me out and then pose for the VS catalog herself. Thats it. She'll do this and die happy. She is nice as I put my bras up there on the counter, but then, something changes. Like a chameleon she goes from fake tanned to EVEN DARKER fake tanned, and evil. She asks me how Im gonna pay. Ruh-roh, I smell trouble! She asks if Ill be using my VS credit card. As I start to say No....she cuts me off and asks if Id like to. No? Oh, silly her, is it cuz I dont have one? Yes, well, if you sign up you get coupons and discounts and free puppies and happiness and cruises to the Bahamas and everlasting true love and emails telling you about upcoming sales. All the while Im trying to interrupt her and say No Thank You, like a polite consumer, more than I ever got from people, but shes relentless. She doesnt shut up until shes told me everything this little wonder-card can do. I am finally able to squeeze in a 'no thanks' but it means nothing as I hear it leaving my mouth. She knows Im not confident. She knows I have no spine, no support behind my decision. She thinks she can crack me, and she almost can, but just then something rises up inside me and I grab her by her blond weave and pull her fake-lashed eyes close to mine and say "Put the fucking bras in the pretty pink bag, bitch. No! Dont wrap them! Throw them carelessly in! Theyre not newborns, theyre bras! Ok now, let me swipe my plain old BANK CARD and let me on my way!" She is visibly shaken, and I am visibly pleased.
On our way out the lovely sales manager is standing near the exit and flashes us a huge VS smile and says "Have a good day!" These empty words fall upon our ears and we smile back. "You too" we reply, all the while knowing we have single handedly escaped the store with half priced bras, and the blood of once shiny happy sales girls on our hands...

Regrets last a lifetime

2008-06-01T11:11:00.001-07:00

Its a lazy Sunday and I am definitely following what the Lord himself would want me to do...being lazy. Reading the paper, sipping coffee, and looking at the world's worst tattoos. Just for fun and games, take a look at these links and say to yourself over and over, "Ill never get tattooed after a night of drinking..."
*serious warning: There are many graphic tattoos. Watch out around the kids. And my mom...*
**note: some are repeats, but keep scrolling, youll see new ones**

www.grupthink.com/topic/index.php5?id=2517&page=1
http://listverse.com/bizarre/top-20-worst-tattoos/
www.theginblog.com/2007/12/15-of-the-absolute-worst-tattoos-ever/
http://next-thing.net/?p=2656
www.litwc.com/2006/10/20/i-love-tattoos-but/

Pantsless and sad

2008-05-29T21:59:00.000-07:00

Here's the question of the day: What would any self-respecting girl do to pamper herself for a hard week at the office while her girlfriend is out at Happy Hour with her friends? You guessed it---come home and walk around pantsless. Pantsless with a cozy couch, blanket, and a movie. Not just any movie, but a classic and #2 on my list of favs. Titanic. Ah, the nostalgic feelings it brings back of just graduating high school, casually dating Steve Magnanti, and experiencing the greatest love story of all time. *Not me and Steve...Rose and Jack* I hear the Titanic theme (not by Celine...I like the instrumental) and I get all flustered. Ive seen it at least ten times in the last 10 years. Kind of a lot for someone who doesnt really like watching movies over and over. But Leo. Uh, my unhealthy obsession with Leo lives on. Anyway, I got through almost the whole movie without crying, maybe just a couple tears here and there (or, say, every half hour). Then Donia arrives home with 10 minutes to go. Jack is dying (oh come on! If I just ruined the movie for you, too bad! Youve had 10 years to see it!), Rose is never letting go, and Im enjoying every moment as if it were the first time Ive experienced the grief that is Titanic. There is no sweet exchange between us of "how are you/ How was your day". Its simply:

Donia: "Hi!"

Leah: *hand in Donias face, eyes fixed on TV* "Not now, Im invested"

Of course, wouldntcha know, I keep the tears at bay almost the whole movie, and then bam! She returns home and the ending hits me like a ton of bricks! Rose going home to the Lord and her sweet Jack and her fellow Titanic victims, passing away so softly in her sleep. Im now almost sobbing. Donia tries to speak to me and I embarassingly choke on my words. So much for the tough girl facade...

That was yesterday, as was the repeat of Oprah's show on Puppy Mills (which I didnt see at its original airing). This added more tears to the night when at the very end of the hour (we were strong throughout), we both couldnt hold back the tears when they showed the man who had to choose which dog got executed daily. 40 A DAY he had to kill! And this is just one shelter, in one town, in one state! There are so many dogs who need homes that we kill 4 million animals a year that have nowhere to go! Yet, everyone who wants puppies goes to pet shops, and they partake in buying from puppy mills that abuse, neglect, and downright torture animals to make money! 10,000 puppy mills with hundreds of dogs being mistreated. It doesnt add up. Forget the idea of a cute little puppy, you can find them in shelters if you really look around and really must have one. DONT GO TO PET SHOPS! I felt at that moment that I wanted a house and a yard just to take in dogs. Of course, when I wake up today I know that I am not an animal lover, and though I would never want to see animals hurt, I would never be the person to take in the animals either. If I have to be honest here, its just not my calling. Some people have it and others dont. I love my dogs, but my passion isnt dogs. So, anyone who does feel it really should be rewarded for the work they do. It sucks that sometimes know what your calling IS NOT before you know what your calling is...thats where Im at.

That rounded out last night, and then we come to today for happiness and sunshine...brought on by the idea that SEX AND THE CITY premieres today! I had this fantastic idea that Id walk downtown and buy tickets EARLY for the show, just IN CASE it sold out. Yeah, haha...joke's on me. As of Thursday night, yes, an entire 24 hours before it opened, all of Seattle had bought tickets in advance and every show from 5 pm to 11 pm was sold out! So now i have to wait until tonight...LATE tonight...to see it! I could have seen it late Thursday (technically Friday) at midnight, but alas, my rockstar days are over. I was in bed by 10...

Gus just vomited next to me. As I type, he threw up inches from my leg. Well, yes I just stood him up and shook him and pretended he was dancing in a club, and yes I spun him around while Donia played a tune on the guitar, but gosh! How was I to know he had a belly ache! Bad mommy=abuse case in the making.

This blog is, so far, boring and empty. Better luck next month I guess...

I dont even wanna unveil it yet.

Im having a dry writing spell

Although Im always pretty lame in my opinion. Lame is the new "cool".

Lovely June, hours from us. Kinda. Summer is here:)

A new place to call home

2008-05-28T20:16:00.000-07:00

So I have started this new blog here on bloggers.com. It just seems more official to me, and now people without Myspace can read along two (Ive had to inquiries, but that was enought to warrant a brand new site). My dilemma is this: do I copy and paste all my old blogs from Myspace into the archives here (as I originally wanted to), or do I start anew with this blog and leave the old stuff to my Myspace life? I feel that if I leave them behind they will be forgotten. Those are some times I like to look back on (some are alcohol induced ramblings, others depict traumatic events ("the injury")). Right now Im leaning toward dragging all my baggage over here, just as I dragged it to Seattle, and all over the State of RI. You cant just forget things or let them go. You can grow from them, but you can never erase the tiny hash marks they leave on your life.

Welcome to the new grown up blog. And by grown up I dont mean Ill be writing intelligent posts. Theyll still be useless and boring and have as much impact as a feather off a building. Theyll pass the time, though, and for some, thats all you can ask for...

Oh yes, and P.S.
Please excuse the HUGE ASS FUCKING PICTURES located at the bottom of my blog. I thought theyd be tastefully done and moderately sized. I was wrong. Blogger.com is obnoxious. Ill prob take them down soon.

Ill have a grande ass and muffins to go...

2008-05-20T20:14:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Today's ramblings will include depressing topics, happy topics, controversial topics, and most importantly BITCHES IN STARBUCKS!

Why is it that you feel the entitlement to go into Starbucks, buy your coffee and super-fattening muffin, and then plop your deliriously smug ass at a table that SEATS 6 when you are only a party of 1? Where in your brain does it say, "This is a good idea". I go in with a party of 3, meanwhile, and we are forced to practically sit on top of each other around a table the size of a half dollar. Well, you know me, always out to make someone feel bad about themselves---I make it a point to loudly say to my friend, "Come here, you can probably squeeze in at this little table with us". I was sure the woman was within earshot. Low and behold, who gets up 2 minutes later, packing her magazine and blackberry and the rest of her crap into her tote? Thats right, lady-who-needs-five-extra-seats-to-be-comfy. Now, I know what youre thinking, maybe it was the last table? Well, it wasnt, but even if it HAD BEEN, my God, sit at the end, out of the way, sending off a signal saying, "Im just tucked in this corner cuz its the last table. Join me at the table if you would like. I dont bite and I realize this whole table isnt for me. That would be SILLY!" Or, do what she did and take up the whole goddamn thing, leaving 3 grown women to cram themselves where they shouldnt have to cram, and giving them no choice but to try and publicly embarass you.

I was peeing today (oh come on now, I have to!), and I look down and whats this? Theres nothing more depressing than seeing a notch you had to make in your belt cuz it was just too big when you got it, and realizing youd no longer be able to use that notch if you tried...

Had another dream me, DJ, Olivia and my mom were kidnapped. Another one!

So I was thinking that Id start a campaign..."Friends Dont Let Friends Continue To Live In RI". Seeing as Im living here for now, Id like to convince all my close friends to move out here to BEAUTIFUL SEATTLE! Where theres music, coffee, and happy hour! Sure its illegal to text while you drive, but texting kills anyway! I figure if I ask everyone, my return rate should be at least 3%. So 3 out of 100 people will move here. I have less than half that many people to ask. So at that rate, in 5 years, maybe one of you will at least visit...

Wait, hold it right there...I am getting visitors! Bailey and Meghan will be out in August, as well as Diehl, and possibly a visit from Jess! Guess the Lord heard my prayers after all...

A big debate going on around here lately has to do with cappucchino and pasties. No, I didnt say pastRies, I said p-a-s-t-i-e-s. As in, what strippers call "shirts". Yeah, so theres these coffee shops (really tiny, only drive-thrus actually) called (cleverly enough) Hot Chick-a-latte, and Cowgirls Coffee, among others. They hire hot girls to wear bikinis or, even sometimes, pasties, and serve coffee to people. *Im guessing men on their morning commutes.* Anyway, some woman was up in arms on the news saying its bad for children, blah blah blah. She is scheduling a protest...and a clothing drive! In a very diplomatic and mature manner, the scantily-clad bathing beauty stated on the news, "Sure, they can send all the clothing they want over here. Were going to donate it to our local charity..." HA! Bikinis-1, insecure soccer mom-0. My feeling? Yes, its not the best for kids. SO DONT TAKE YOUR KIDS THERE! If you are unaware of which establishments practice this and you need a caffeine fix while the tots are in the car, dont pull around and call the girl a "heathen" (true story). Simply ask your questions, grab your coffee, go home, and explain to the kids that adults do things that children cant do yet. My God, free speech, free expression. If the business owner thinks this will make money and the girls willingly participate, then mind your own beeswax and take your business elsewhere. I have a feeling this woman isnt concerned for the "poor innocent children". Your "poor innocnet children" can pull up porn on your computer anyday. Shes upset because when she doesnt know, her husband and his buddies are drinking more coffee than any human should and flirting with the nice baristas on work time. Insecurity's a bitch, bitch. You dont like it, get to the gym. Those girls did, and they earned what they have. Or you could just put out more and then maybe your husband wouldnt be so hopped up on the idea of a half naked girl burning her you-know-what on steaming espresso.

Ok, I have to get Donia from work and as it is, oopsie, Im late! Talk amongst yourselves, and Id love to know your views on the coffee shop thing. What if it were coming to a Dunkin Donuts near you?!

I guess I should be packin all the time...

2008-05-15T20:14:00.000-07:00

Thursday, May 15, 2008

No, not a gat. My camera! I just went 10 miles East to a treatment agency outside of Seattle and OH MY GOD its beautiful outside today! Its almost 80, sunny, just breezy enought to be comfy, and I am in the best mood of May 08. I have no one to share this with because Donia is still at work! I wanna just run out into the street and find someone who doesnt look too sketchy and ask them if theyd like to take a drive to the park. I just saw the most beautiful green trees and mountain ranges off in the distance. I dont even know what range it is-could be Mt. Shithead for all I care-it was gorgeous! Everyone bragged about "summer in Seattle", which I know isnt here yet, but if this is a preview, then Im HOOKED! They said it was "muggy". Muggy? Oh, you poor poor Seattlites. Come with me, Ill show you muggy. Ill show you I-have-never-missed-winter-so-much-i-just-may-commit-suicide-today hot back in RI. Fuck muggy, this is perfection...
So, as I again love Gus because pee-pee pad 2 seems to be working, I put his food in his bowl and went to change in my room. I come back to find him out on the deck, nibbling at three bites of food he carried out there. Apparently his plan was to grab a few and run back and forth with them becasue his poor lil chihuahua self couldnt decide what he wanted more--FOOD OR SUN! Chihuahuas are sun-gods, they live for it. I had to laugh at how cute his puppy conundrum was (after the giggle, mommy moved his food bowl outside for him). Though we have a laptop, we dont have wireless internet, so I am sitting inside doing this, as opposed to out on the deck on my old skool lawn chair. You know the one---I got it from KMart a week ago and its the kind you can lay down in, or sit up, or have your feet up. Its like a craftmatic adjustible bed for the yard. Yep, 12 bucks and Im golden. Donia refused saying the chair was "weird". f weird, its perfect! Yeah you may stick to the strange plastic weave its made of, but i can get myself in 30 different positions to reach maximumu sun capacity. With my SPF 60, of course.

Ok, gotta get out there with the dogs. For once Gus, that little fucker, has the right idea...

only for the L Word fans...

2008-05-10T20:11:00.000-07:00

Saturday, May 10, 2008

So like, Jen and Deanna? This is funny shit, and Jen, this interviewer reminds me of you at the end. Its her humor. And her use of the word V-hole. No one else will get this if you dont know the show, so you may as well go back to what you were doing...and oops i posted it twice, but its the same vid. its my first time with vids, sorry...

The problem with memories and feminism...

2008-05-04T20:10:00.000-07:00

Sunday, May 04, 2008

I have encountered a problem today and I dont know how to fix it. Donia has decided (as Jen G. did a looong time ago) to list the movies that I havent seen, that I apparently should have seen, as a child/teen in the 80's/early 90's. Nice gesture, yes, but herein lies my struggle: she doesnt realize (as I didnt, before this little experiment began) that the reason these movies are so "good" is because when she saw them 15-20 years ago, they were age and generation appropriate! Now, I dont know, I sit here and suffer through Goonies this morning, her with a big reminiscent grin on her face, me wondering what the hell Im watching! When she saw this at the age of 12, it was a fantastic kid adventure movie. Now, never having seen it at the age of almost...well, nevermind my age...all it is is a kiddie adventure movie! I dont have those feelings flooding back to me from when I first saw it as kid, having a crush on the main character, watching in wonderment as the story unfolded. I hear cheesy jokes and see bad fashion and cant help but think, "this would NEVER happen" at every turn of events! I do these things to make her happy, but now having seen 16 candles (couldnt stay with it), The Breakfast Club, Goonies, Dirty Dancing (ok), The Outsiders (not toooo bad), Stand By Me (maybe the best one), Lost Boys (come on youve got to be kidding me!), and Point Break (worst acting Ive ever seen!), I am done. No more, please! Indiana Jones bored me a month ago when we attempted to watch the trilogy (didnt even finish one) and now she has rented the Back to the Future trilogy! I know what youre saying, "but these are classics!" Yeah, classics, unless you missed the WINDOW in which they become classics in your head. I call it the "80's cheesy movie window" (80's-cmw for, well, kinda short). There is just no way Ill ever find most of these movies endearing at this point in life. I missed it. Remember seeing "Cant Hardly Wait" or "Clueless"? These to me are great cuz I was in high school and its about high school and you were in a time when it made sense for your adolescent brain. If I played those movies now for my mom, she'd think they were silly. She cant feel what I felt! So it is with Donia and her great movie viewing idea...little does she know, Im aborting the mission...
Ive got her library password, Ill cancel all the holds she has on the movies, and ill tell her they were reported lost or stolen. Yep, ALLLL the copies they had. Sorry...(but not really). Sometimes Ive gotta protect my sanity over making her happy by sitting thru another coming-of-age tale circa 1984.

And now my second problem. The other day Im next to this motor cycle rider. These three guys cross the street in front of us, and I see them checking this person out. I then realize that this is a woman. They are hooting and hollering at her, thinking she's so hot for riding a bike. So I start to wonder: where do we draw the line between wanting to be able to "do what the boys do" without a spectacle and still wanting to be noticed for being strong women stepping outside the gender-assigned box? (hold your jokes). I would like to say "Come on! Arent we at a place where it can be deemed normal for a girl to ride a motorcycle?" But then again, if everything is equal, if we do everything the boys do, then we are not holding on to our femininity either. If I can walk into a poker room and sit down at a table and no one notice Im a girl among 90% guys, then I lose that advantage, that attraction that I gain, which puts them at a disadvantage (some of the time. the dumb ones. and most are). So the feminist in me wants to preach "Hey! I can play poker and pool and ride a bike and pick up my own furniture to move it and dont need a guy to point out that these things are so manly!". Then again, the girl in me wants to say "Its still cool for some things to be noticed when a girl does them, but not all things! You dont have to point out you were just beat by a girl on the pool table or that a girl just got promoted over you." Having high-paying jobs or prestigious positions or being president or living on her own or being able to take care of herself are not out-of-the-ordinary, or at least they shouldnt be for women. Its hard for me to decipher whether we want to be women forever, or equals. Keep our femininity or give up most of the gender roles in exchange for the same rights men get all the time. We dont want to be men, and we dont wanna be "women performing roles of men" . I guess wejust wanna be cute and capable and strong humna beings running cirlces around the opposite sex in heels and a mini skirt...ok, thats what I want. I dont know what others want. Discuss amongst yourselves (but not in the presence of men, they get so cranky sometimes! Must be that time of...well...their whole lives?)

Questions, comments, or concerns may be sent to my Myspace Inbox. Rants and Raves on how I like to burn my bra and need to get a grip on reality, please send them to your own inbox, and promptly erase them.

My spirit is bruised, but not broken...

2008-05-03T20:10:00.000-07:00

Saturday, May 03, 2008

I begin today's blog with an ironic story. It may sound unbeliveable, but God (and Donia) as my witness, it indeed happened. Let me start out by saying that there are lots of intellects in Seattle. It is, in fact, one of the most literate cities in the country. That being said, there are also a lot of assholes. A lot. Guys who think they are soooooooooooo funny and soooooooooo clever and so very witty to their friends, and the girls they may be trying to impress. These guys are the worst kind. Give me a cute nerd reading Harry Potter and sipping a fat-free overpriced latte over these testoterone pumped, small penised, ugly-excuses for a potential mate to any self respecting girl any day. Ok, now that Ive painted you the picture of anger comes the irony: Its Friday night and Donia and I have decided to walk downtown and take in the scenes over a cup of coffee at the corner Starbucks. We are crossing the street on our way back to the bus when, wait, what's that? That wanna-be "thug" is yelling from his car at someone. Four-eyes? Did that grown man just yell four eyes? Before I could properly register what just happened, it hit me like a ton of bricks...I was four eyes! You see, at 2:30 pm on Friday, I picked up my brand new, first pair ever, glasses. So cute. Not just cute, but expensive, so you know theyve got to be stylish. I wear them for the next 8 hours, my eyes getting acclamated to them, and I am wearing them on our late night journey. And Im wearing them crossing the street. And Im the only one in sight wearing them when this car full of disgusting guys trolling for chicks yells out 'four eyes'. I look at Donia and ask, "was he yelling at me" and as I am speaking the words she is making gestures and pretending to laugh a pathetic, sarcastic laugh, yelling "wow, thats really clever and funny" at the douche-mobile. Thats my girl, always standing up for her asthmatic, freckeled, white skinned, and now four eyed, girlfriend. We, of course, laughed it off immediately for many reasons:
1. They are pathetic to think making fun of people still makes you cool at their age. They had to be 25+ at least.
2. No one past the age of 11 uses the term four eyes, precisely because no one past the age of 11 gets offended by the term 4 eyes.
3. As Donia is mocking them, none of them will look at us or acknowledge they did it, so now its also a pussy-mobile.
4. Everyone in Seattle wears glasses! People who dont need glasses pretend they need glasses just to fit in! People with good eyesight here are shunned and forced out by the intellects who do wear them!
5. WHAT ARE THE FUCKING CHANCES THAT, HOUR 8 OF HAVING GLASSES EVER IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, I WOULD BE CALLED THE OLDEST GLASSES-WEARING SLUR IN THE BOOK?!

It was too unbelieveable to be, and Donia's quote was, "If I wasnt here right now, Id never believe this story if you told me".
I dont think I believe it, and I was the victim!
Hope those guys had a good night. We sure had a great time laughing at their pathetic Friday night activities. They probably went out later and knocked over some old ladies, kicked puppies, and peed in some Holy Water.
Four eyes...puh-lease. Four eyes or two, Im still a better catch than anything theyll ever find. Especially with that attitude! *pushes glasses up on her nose*

After that story, I think we need a day to reflect, and remember: before you go out making fun of others for your own enjoyment, God hates douchebags and douchebags go to HELL...

Take me HOME FROM this ballgame...

2008-04-30T20:09:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Get Me OUT OF the crowd!!! I dont want peanuts, crackerjacks, or even BEER!!! I just want a quiet weekend at home with the Golden Girls and a puzzle book. Maybe throw in the pups and a snack, but that's it! So as you saw earlier: 3 games. 3 days. 3 too many for my taste, to be honest. We all know, though, that sometimes what makes someone else happy is more important than our own happiness for a bit (yeah, who's the idiot that came up with that!). Sooooo, Donia has been a doll and bought us tickets for 10 games this season at Safeco field between the A's and the Mariners. Isnt she sweet? (Fun Fact: Those 20 tickets all together were as much as our two Kanye tickets. But hey, who's countin, right?) Ill just give you a brief synopsis of my 2008 baseball season thus far. The fans here are pussies. Plain and simple. Im basing this on my past experiences with baseball games at both Yankee stadium and Fenway park. Now I know its the oldest rivalry in sports, the Yanks and the Sox, but those games were violent! Brutal! All out madness! These games were, Im guessing, geared more toward the beseball lover that also holds a deep love for kittens, saving the planet, and all things Elton (John, that is. You know, the fantastic, fabulous, and all-time favorite flamer of the gays and showtune-lovin straighties alike.) No one talked shit! No one said anyhting about our A's hats or Donia's A's t-shirt or jersey! I was ready with quick comebacks about how Oakland was way tougher than Seattle and that they'd never get out alive if they went to see the Mariners play on our turf (then again, neither would I...), but I didnt have to use any of it! People were nice. Children played and sang. No one threw beer or fists or broken shards of glass. The worst that got thrown was-GASP!-toilet paper! Oooh, not soft and snuggly toilet paper! Jeez, I was so disappointed. I wanted action, excitement, a real purpose for being there! All I got was baseball...

Anyway, the atmosphere of a game, any live professional sport for that matter, is always cool. I people watched most of the time, but thats what made me happy. Donia was pleased just with my presence (set their expectations low, its easier that way), and she enjoyed every second of actual play. The good thing is that I dont have to go back til August. The bad thing is I have 7 games left to sit through. Hey, who knows, maybe Ill start a drunken riot and youll see me on ESPN. It may be the only way we ever see any action at, conveniently named, SAFEco Field...

Here are my personal baseball stats for the season so far:

Number of games attended: 3

Number of hot dogs consumed: 3

Number of children dragged to the game by their parents, sitting around us, not watching the game: at least 30

Number of people eating delicious-smelling "Garlic Rally Fries" in front of us while we envied them but maintained self control: 15

Number of miles walked to get to the stadium and home 3 days in a row: at least 7

Number of free energy drinks received: 4

Number of drunks crossing the street while the walk sign said Dont Walk, subsequently almost losing their lives: 3 *would have been wayyyy more in Boston*

Number of arrests of drunks: 0 *see above comment*

Number of disgusting men standing next to us chewing sunflower seeds and spitting them out in front of us onto the ground: 1

Number of times I participated in songs, dances, stretches, and "Moose" activities brought on by the mascot: 0

Number of babies changed right next to me on the bleacher, its dirty diaper carelessly tossed by the mom under the seat in front of us: 1

Number of times Donia screamed, "DIDYOUSEETHAT!?", where I lied and said, "Yeah! Cool/awesome/great!": I lost count

Number of days til Donia forgets I went with her to make her happy: it better never happen!

I didnt write this...

2008-04-18T20:08:00.000-07:00

Friday, April 18, 2008

...but it must live on.

In pure comic-book adventure, the Seattle show is big on heroics.

By Ann Powers, Times Pop Music Critic
April 18, 2008

SEATTLE -- KANYE WEST has always fancied himself a hero; now he has staged his "Götterdämmerung." The hip-hop star may or may not have been thinking about Richard Wagner's epic Ring cycle when he decided to turn his Glow in the Dark tour into an apocalyptic space opera. The show, which premiered Wednesday at this city's Key Arena, had more obvious reference points: Japanese anime, Will Smith in "I Am Legend" and any Imax shows about the planets that West might have seen as a kid.

But West, the chart-topper most determined to burn his likeness into the walls of pop's Valhalla, cares deeply about what it means to be a hero. Wednesday, he didn't take a spear to the gut the way Wagner's Siegfried did, but he did confront terror, doubt and filial grief in a show that carried his braggadocio into the realm of myth itself.

Performing a set of favorites from throughout his repertoire, West moved like a dancer in a Gene Kelly movie on a slanted stage made to look like a distant moon.

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Screens big and small showed scenes of whirling galaxies and cataclysmic weather; sometimes these images escaped their boundaries and saturated the stage floor. Announcing himself as an astronaut on a mission to bring creativity back to Earth, West used songs like "Through the Wire," "Can't Tell Me Nothing" and "Stronger" to narrate his journey from spaceship crash to alien encounter to self-realization and escape.

This was pure comic-book adventure, obvious at times. But the real message came through those unstoppable images. Glow in the Dark raises the bar for arena tours as no show has since U2's 1992 Zoo TV breakthrough. It's that innovative and galvanizing.

Unlike most highly staged concerts since U2's meditation on rock in the media age, West's show isn't literary at heart. It's imagistic. West is a conceptual artist who works in visuals as well as sound, and his inspiration comes from fine artists such as Takashi Murakami and haute couture designers like Hedi Slimane. In this show, he's imagining not so much how a hero's story unfolds but what a hero might say if he were to rap -- and how he might appear onstage.

Performing alone is one of West's key choices. Negotiating vast stages without the aid of a crew, last night he rapped over backing tracks, asserting his independence and uniqueness and presenting a new way to be a hip-hop star, separate from a protective community.

The spectacular backdrops of the Glow in the Dark tour solve a problem his previous solo performances have posed: They provide excitement beyond what West could generate through his own voice and movements, and give him an environment (and a few characters, like that alien -- a chesty, anime-style plastic doll that descended from the ceiling) to play against.

The concert's screen images also reinforced West's isolation; he sometimes seemed small, caught up in their storm. The hero's quest is a source of romantic power for West; as he explores the role more, he seems more interested in its painful aspects too. Roaming the slanted proscenium under violent skies heavy with asteroids and whirling clouds, West played the grim son of destiny, unable to break through and connect with others.

Against this backdrop, West rapped for more than an hour without a break, only slowing down for "Hey Mama," the ballad he wrote for his recently deceased mother. That song caused a rare moment of real vulnerability as West held his head in his hands for a moment, near tears. Otherwise he projected focused intensity, driving home hits such as "Jesus Walks" and "Touch the Sky" without ever flirting with the audience or even really taking a break to breathe.

His lyrics are often clever and light in tone, but pacing across his self-constructed lonely planet, West couldn't have been more serious. After all, he has a world to reinspire -- and even when he states that goal in terms of comic-book fantasy, he means it.

The other artists on this carefully built bill share West's forward-thinking attitude about hip-hop, as well as his showiness. The rapper Lupe Fiasco opened the evening with a smooth set that featured red-clad backup singers and several suave turns by singer Michael Santos. The young, very racially mixed crowd yelled "Lupe!" as the Chicago rapper spun out his hipster tales.

N.E.R.D. made a sensual racket during its mood-lit set. The band, which features Neptunes producers Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo and their longtime friend, vocalist Shay Haley, plays hip-hop-infused rock with cutting lyrics and menacing beats. With two drummers pushing the groove forward, N.E.R.D. proved musically charismatic. Williams is the band's star, though he's a rather delicate vocalist; like many rockers before him, he cashes in on charisma.

Rihanna, the last of the three openers, can really sing, but she hadn't found her footing Wednesday, struggling to stay in tune and project in the huge arena. It didn't help that the bass was so distorted during her set that it shook the floor; Rihanna's talent is for impressing without ever pushing herself, but when your own band's amps are tuned to "assault," you have to fight back.

The noise distracted from her troupe's cute dance moves and shiny retro-new wave costumes, but that's the kind of kink a touring artist works out in a few dates.

In pure comic-book adventure, the Seattle show is big on heroics.

By the time she and her tour mates hit the Nokia Theatre L.A. Live on Monday, they should be on point and ready to push toward the ridiculous, beautiful heights of West's heroics.

ann.powers@latimes.com

Night Of My Life

2008-04-17T20:07:00.000-07:00

Thursday, April 17, 2008

So, as you were aware/anticipating , I saw my boy Kanye last night at Key Arena. He brought some of his homies, Lupe, Pharrell, et.al, and RiRi (oh yeah, you know her as Rihanna). Anyway, there we were, chillin before the show at the hotel (sorry, its gotta be an undisclosed location), having some Dom, poppin some pills (only me--PPH--and Lupe, of course) while the rest of the crew puffed on a blunt rolled by none other than me, Wig. (Short for 'wigga', their nickname for me. I think its cute, Im the only white girl anyway...). Were enjoying ourselves, kickin it, getting pumped for their debut US show of the Glow-in-theDark tour, when, whhhaaa? Snoop? Come on man, you gotta be kiddin me! He calls me up on my blackberry (only my posse has that number) and says hes in town and wants to chill. No way, dude, youre always 1, you know that, but K is here for one night only and, you know how I roll. Gotta spread myself out (ew, not like that! Yes, I had to keep him from making the obvious joke). He was upset, but we rescheduled for Starbucks and a movie next weekend. I would have invited him to chill with us, but security for the hotel was all tied up outside, and sneaking him in after the fact would have been impossible. Plus, Kanye likes to have his thunder, you know. Dont need no other cats steppin on toes or nothin. I hang up with Snoop and we have like 15 minutes til Lupe's gotta do his thang. Hes pumped, he does his pre-gig ritual (it involves a bathtub and a gallon jug, s'all I can say), and we wish him well after a quick prayer circle and an Amen powerful enough to shake the ground beneath us (we all bein one with our faith and shit).

N.E.R.D. was next, so we had to round up all those roady bitches and get em back out to the Arena. Too many groupies in one room is hazardous to the health of the performers (in more ways than 1, lemme tell you!). Im always on Pharrell, when I see him, saying that those dirty bitches will ruin his life one way or another, and if not that, just ruin his manhood. He always insists theyd be 'gone til November' if Id just commit myself to him, but alas, he knows Im involved. I hate having to tell him that all the time, though, his poor lil heart...

Right before RiRi went on, I did her nails hot pink (its the new black) and fixed her makeup...a bit had smudged when Lupe gave her a shotgun gone wrong (that cat is wild!). She then had me call her "secret" bf---youve seen the tabloids, but you know I cant confirm--just to say shed meet up with him the next day for dinner before the Sacramento show. God we were on the phone forever laughing and catching up, when I realized Kanye was giving me his puppy dog eyes---I wasnt paying him enough preshow attention! Fine, I said, come here...and we did our normal pep talk, "Mr. West, listen up. YOu are strong and powerful and the best performer on Earth. Everyone will like you and what you do tonight. Whatever you do, dont sing any Bob Dylan impromptu (he loves to break into 70's rock hits without rehearsing first) and keep yo head up and your shoulders squared (the boy cant quit the slouch!). I had him put on another undershirt (that dry ice is cold) and he was off with a kiss on the forehead and a Go Team pat on the bum! Boy was I proud of him.

Well, everyone killed it, especially K. He was so worried "Do you think they liked it? Was I good?" and I assured him it was the best Id ever seen. The best anyone would ever see...

After the party is the after party and...well, you know how they say we aint leaving til 6 in the morn...? Lets just say Im runnin on empty after a night of body shots and rubbin elbows with my crew, exchanging stories of back in the day, when old skool was actually old and hip hop meant somethin. Being part of a hip-hop entourage is hard, but you know, I wouldnt give up those friendships for the world. Donia was weirded out when I rolled in just in time for breakfast, but shes chill. She knows me and my life, and that my posse isnt goin nowhere...

Good luck to everyone tonight in Cali. Call me on the weekend when youve got time off. Ill see you on the road when I make a trip out to accompany you to the BET Awards show in June...

Oh, and if youre around, Diddy's white party in the Hamptons in July should be off tha hook! Im going down with Em, but you know where to meet up...

one love

Peace Be With You...

2008-04-11T20:07:00.000-07:00

Friday, April 11, 2008

...and also with you. Thats one of the few things Ive retained from attending 3 Catholic masses in my life. The others being that the organ is such an annoying and depressing instrument, and I often wondered what was worn under those robes. Theyre old men, was it slippers and v-neck t's like my Pappy used to wear? On second thought, nevermind. I dont ever wanna know...

So, speaking of religion...well, um, I am embarassed to admit that I am not too current on world events at the moment. Or ever. History was a bad subject in my family--no, not that we didnt like to talk about it. We didnt like to pass History classes! Every damn one of us kids did poorly, whether blood sibling or step, so it had nothing to do wit the genes. But I digress...so, my point was (surprisingly, youll see) that the Dalai Lama is in Seattle this weekend (told ya I got sidetracked). He is participating in something called Seeds of Compassion, a seminar teaching about, well, yeah, seeds of compassion. Anyway Im not sure how much it was to go see him, but I dont have tickets. I have to say I didnt wanna go cuz I know nothing about the Dalai Lama. Oprah loves him; I know hes all about peace and nonviolence; he's old and wears a red cape/sari/cloak/toga everywhere he goes (back to the "whats under there question...ew, again, nevermind). I probably should read up on him and keep up on world news more than I keep up on how many nights in a row Britney has gone to The Villa for dinner. I would be more fulfilled, Im sure. So, Im not seeing him, and this was probably a once-in-a-lifetime opp. The thing Im really bummed about is that Dave Matthews, (who lives here btw and Im gonna stalk one of these days when I get around to it), is performing with him. No, I dont think the Dalai will sing backup on one of his tracks or play Boyd's mini violin, I think Dave will talk and sing and Dalai will nod his head and smile and enjoy the magic Dave brings to the ears of his fans. Its just as well I dont go; the Lama's all about nonviolence, and let me tell you when i catch sight of Dave, despite what I promised to myself and you a while back, I will pounce. It wont be violence, but it will sure look like it...

So these days TV is not a big part of my life, a goal I am achieving smashingly. L Word is over til Jan of 09, Lost has all these little mini hiatuses we have come to know and love (or hate), and A.I. is so last year for me--just not cutting it this season. I am forced to borrow TV show DVDs from the library and catch up on some gems that aired a while ago that I never caught (you could NOT commit to a show as a server, it was impossible. Unless you were Kerri and you were friends with the girl who did the schedule and you drank together and ate TB together and therefore that schedule girl gave you every Thursday night off for your obsession with Must See TV, circa 2004). I have now scene Seasons 1-3 and 5 of Sex and the City and let me say IM HOOKED! I never believed it was so good before! I think I half like it cuz its a good qualoty show and half like it cuz Carrie reminds me of Jess back home. I miss her so much that Ill take a SJP imitation of her over nothing. I also saw Season 7 of Will and Grace (I love Vince, but hate Leo), as well as repeated the other 6 seasons, which Donia had very little appreciation for. Now, whats my current nostalgic sitcom, you ask? The Golden Girls! Thats right--Bea, Betty, Rue and Estelle when I want them, anytime. Someday Ill tell you tales of how i long to dress as Dorothy when I grow older...but dont worry! I mean like in my 30s...

Its funny that i could talk all about my job when I had no work, but now that I have things to do and stories to tell, confidentiality rears its ugly head and says "Stop! You may not regale your readers with stories of your exciting, fulfilling and interesting job! You signed a waiver!". So, I guess thats the extent of the paragrah about my job: I still have one.

Im watching the news and I just saw a girl from the side that looked exactly like me when I was 13--awkward, lanky, frizzy bright red hair, and flat chested. Its only right I send her a pic of me now so shes not so devastated when she learns that the only thing that changes is they do get bigger, but at the price of weight gain.

I will end this with a story of nightclubbing at the age of 27 and 3/4: I dont wanna do it anymore. Im done. Im not a spring chicken, and i cant hang. The dancing, the sweating, the making out, the humping, the drinking and the next morning---too much for this old bag. I need to quit now before Im turned away at the door for my Golden Girlesque fashions and my complaints to the doorman about how the music is 'just too loud'...

What my "About Me" should say...

2008-03-29T20:06:00.000-07:00

Saturday, March 29, 2008

So, Kristyn sent me this thing where Id been "tagged" and I had to blog about 12 random things about myself, and then tag 6 more peeps, not including her, to do the same. So, for you, Kristyn, here goes:

1. I am scared to death of/pass out at the sight of blood.

2. I have a fear of not wearing makeup when in public.

3. I wish I were a better writer, secretly.

4. I hate confrontation and seeing physical fights make me have panic attacks.

5. I loooooovvvvveeeeeee to drink milk, but only up to 5 days after it was purchased.

6. I owe more money than you know for student loans, and will be in debt for quite a while.

7. I looooovvvvveeeee chocolate and think its the best thing in the world.

8. I am super-self-conscious about my body 97% of the day and night.

9. I think that people think Im a flake. Im not.

10. I have 2 chihuahuas.

11. I would love to have the guts to get tons of tattoos!

12. I miss college days, but id change some things.

I now tag Miss New Booty, Miss Hoots, Dawn, Amber, Jade and Jennoula...

"Keep the Change You Filthy Animal!"

2008-03-14T20:05:00.000-07:00

Friday, March 14, 2008

Oh how Home Alone always makes me feel like im a tween again!

Greetings from the desk of one Miss Leah Watson. Thats right, my cube, if you will, is the site of this blog. Im on lunch break. I have all the time in the world right now to write because, well, Im anorexic. Its this new idea Ive come up with, seems to be pretty successful so far. If you dont count the hunger pangs and drop in body temperature, its a pretty pleasant diet!

Ok, ok, fine. As much as id love to join the anorexia nervosa community on myspace, Im too chicken. By that I mean I like to eat chicken. ANd other foods. Which makes me a failure at anorexia. Oh well, just mark it off the "Things Im Not Very Good At" list, right underneath "Sports", "cooking", and "Being capable of envoking human emotion".

I was sitting here (verrry busy...ah-em) and thinking about my life. It hit me that this year alone, Ive made tons of changes/improvements to myself. They never hit me as they were happening, but now I can look back and see that I have been making great strides toward becoming a real-live...adult. (Excuse me, this is hard, i need a moment...*breathe...breathe*) Ok, Im good now. I guess they say every 7 years your body changes, and by 28 you have changed into the shiny adult-model of a human being that your parents have been longing for since you were shitting in diapers and whining everytime you couldnt get a candy bar in the store. Oh yeah, and since they found that bong that you insisted was a "vase" when you were 16. I guess the theory could be right. Youre brand spankin new when youre a baby, and I did notice at 7 I was becoming wayyy more intuitive (and by this I mean I knew what Barbie was gonna want to wear even before she did!). Then at 14, there were of course puberty changes (tiny boobs) but also I began to write. Poetry with my sister Bailey, this thing called "The Story" with my best friend Julie (which has never been spoken of til now). Then theres the age of 21, where, of course, we all start to bar-hop (the respectable people do) and revert back to a time of crying with your skirt in the air in public and going boy crazy (I guess at this time we revisit age 7 and 14, just for a recap). And now Im approaching, reluctantly and with great kicking and screaming, 28, where apparently another change will come into play. I see this already happening, and I will now display some of the changes Ive made and the reasons why I think Im becoming an adult:

Donia: Obviously this was a huge change in my life, but a good one nonetheless. Being honest with yourself and standing up for something you believe is a sign of adulthood in that, before growing up, we feel we need to please everyone with everyhting, even if this means sacrificing ourselves. I could get more into this, but its not the time. This is a good one-on-one convo if you ever want my philosophy on my life.

Seattle: I love RI, I love the friends and family I have there. I love the life I built. I also (finally) love that I could step outside of that, just for a time, and see other stuff. Other people. Other streets and trees and grass. And another ocean. It will always be cool to say "I lived there once". New cultures and philosophies are interesting and shouldnt be taken for granted...

New Job: I am very happy about this change because I actually feel like all the money that will (eventually) go to my student loans will be worth it. Its nice to use my head in a different way now. I would like to stick with the 9-5 also. Those who have always worked that sched just dont appreciate it enough!

$$$: This one is two-fold because not only did I take a harsh paycut taking on a new job field, but I also, even before the job change, learned to save $$$ like never before. When I decided in June to move at the end of August, I had to get my ass in gear and figure out a way how. How stupid I have been all these years. The restaurant was a cash cow, and I blew it all on clothes and bars and crap. I did, however, enjoy these nights out in my new clothes with my friends and all the crap, but I now see that I wasnt really thinking ahead. I thought I’d freak out when I learned of the money Id be making here, but then I remembered that I dont buy anyhting anymore. No unnecessary purchases to just stack around the house or shut away in a closet. I am very happy with this lifestyle change, and I encourage others to look at themselves and see what they could eliminate from their consumerism habits. Trust me, saving is actually more fulfilling than new shoes you only wear once...

Speaking of shoes: I wear flat shoes now. If you knew me ever you knew that my shoes were tall and big and Id have it no other way. Flash forward to the ankle injury. Flats for a year, and now, theyve stuck. Im currently in the market for some sensible work shoes (never thought those words would come out of my mouth!)

Nightlife: I used to go out every Saturday night, no exceptions, and spend a ton at the bar. Then there were also random Miller’s nights, which cost another $20 bucks each week. Now its like out-to-eat once a month and the bar once a month. Occasionally there are random happy hour nights, but its been cut down considerably. (Not being sloppy drunk in bars every night may be the reason why I have no friends here, though.)

As far as friends: Well, recently there have been some changes made to the relationships I held back home. Being away from everyone and everything you know causes you to hold on to certain people, those who are most important. Somehow the others fall away. Myspace has really helped me stay in touch, and thank God cuz I hate the phone. I text some people, call a very few, and even write handwritten letters to one! Myspace is most of it though. I just had to let go of some of the bullshit and figure out who, when I took the time out, I wanted to spend time on.

YMCA (not the dance): The gym is slowly starting to become part of our lives. We feel great every time we go. I cant wait to see changes in my body and mind (and jeans)...all I know is I never wanna be older and unhealthy. Its not worth it.

TV: I have considerably cut down on TV. I cant stress considerably enough! I went from the peak high of TV watching (when I was hurt and unable to drive for months) to the lowest of low (right now). With a 9-5 you dont see TV in the day, I dont get up early enough to see it in the AM, and at night I like to spend time with Donia, we cook, and read and workout and things like that. I watch the shows I really wanna watch only---this includes L WOrd, LOST, A.I. (though Im losing momentum and am giving this up), Biggest Loser (its my first season and I love it), and Jeopardy. Wheel of Fortune sometimes, too, but we dont enjoy that as much. Sometimes when Im bored Ill put the TV on, but seeing as we have more things to do, and a lot less channels than ever, its not a priority anymore.

Music: Im trying to open up to new music, but its hard for me. I like the familiar. Ive recently forced myself to take CDs out from the library and force-feed them into my ears.

Dialect: Not many people say I have an accent, unless Im upset or worked up, then it emerges slowly. I now like to say fun words like "F" and "whatevs". Its cool to cut words short now, and Ive taken to it with open arms.

PM: I go to bed so early now! I cant even believe it myself. The Applebees days kept me up til 2 or 3 AM every night, whether I was working or just hanging out or even home alone! Now, 10 PM and you can stick a fork in me. Im done with the day. On to the next, I say!!! Im at the point in my life, I hate to admit, where Im not a Rockstar anymore. That was our term when wed want our friends to stay out late and party. "But I have to work at 8" "Come on, youre fine, be a rockstar!" And we all would oblige...every time. No one wanted to fail at being a Rockstar. Now, Im woman enough to admit "Im getting up at 7:30, and I dont want to be tired!" (Loser...)

Reading, Writing, and Movies: We have Netflix, and in order to fulfill Donia’s "Get more for your money" philosophy, we are forced to watch them promptly, and return them just so we can get more. I dont even think she enjoys them, just has to check them off her list. I was never a movie person, but it is a fun way to spend an evening sometimes, in the comforts of your home with a glass of wine and Chihuahua cuddled in your lap.

I write more now ever since I was jobless. I still dont think its great, but hey, a few of you do, and thats cool with me. I have started to look up a lot of blogs, too, and read the work of others. I love it. Who knows, maybe some day therell be a tell-all book (watch out!)

I read a lot now becasue I want a better vocab and wanna see peoples’ styles of writing. I also wanna do something that makes me feel like Im being productive, which reading does. My library card is my friend, my only friend, and I love him!

A small update, one for my mom: I eat cream cheese and crax still, but I have switched from Town House crax to Wheat. Not as good, but better for me. :)

Things I would Like to Change But Havent Yet:

Learn to type like a grown up

Meet new people at work

Find a church around here and go

Volunteer with the elderly

MAke friends!!!!!!!

If any of the things in this blog interest you, comment. Ill answer, if Im not too busy reading and/or watching movies I never wanted to see in the first place..

Philosophy 101

2008-03-10T20:04:00.000-07:00

Monday, March 10, 2008

If my point is that I dont have a point, do I then have a point and not have a point at the same time? (something I thought of while in the shower. Wecome to my brain...I suggest you dont stay too long...)

Its been a while since Ive written a blog about nothing in particular (aka rambled), so here goes. Id like to thank Starbucks for this [overpriced] cup of coffee, providing me enough caffeine to get thru the morning, as well as this blog...

First order of business is last nights dream. I had a crazy amount of dreams last nioght, but the one I remember the best is that I was watching TV and saw a reporter some on and say Justin Timberlake was missing, and that hed been murdered. I was so sad at that moment! I searched this weird house for anyone to talk to because I was so devasstated. I found some kids. So...flash forward to real life, I just told this dream to my friend (not sister) Kara and this was her response:

"Justin Timberlake will never die...they will freeze him next to walt disney so that they could eventully find a way to bring sexy back. "

Genius! Pure fucking genius! I am kicking myself (which is hard to do, try it) that I didnt think of it first. Kudos, Kara, kudos...

I am at "work" right now (I will continue to use quotes until I actaully start becoming busy). Ive spent the morning reading blogs and looking up new blogs I could get into. Right now I love this blog http://marielynbernard.blogspot.com/. Shes funny, a good writer, and shes the girl who recaps the L WOrd every week. Check her out if you want something [with more quality than my stuff] to read. Ive yet to write a fan letter to her because I need to spend time thinking up the perfect comments. Dont wanna be too crazy, but wanna give her the props she deserves. This guy is cool too...http://lozo.blogspot.com/.

This weekend was very low key, which is what Im always a fan of. We have been going to the Y now like good girls, trying not to skip a day (and if we do, deciding on a make-up day). So we worked out Saturday. And by work out, I mean we started with some good ole fashioned street-nasty hoop! (Basketball, for you less hip kids). The courts were empty, so I said lets play! We had a small game of one on one, most of the game consisting of us arguing over what the rules were, me "checking" the ball every time I felt it necessary, and pretty much me schooling her! (Translation, I beat her). 5 to 1. Not bad for someone who hasnt played since 6th grade. We sure were sweatin, so as a cool down, we played a classic game of horse. In the end, we both walked off the court HOs...

We then went upstairs to the cardio center and did like 20 more minutes up there. Weve decided the bike is boring, the elliptical fun. We ran on the treadmill at a speed of 4, which was frightening at first. I was just waiting for one of us to go flying off the back in a classic treadmill-throws-girl-into-wall sort of scene. Though I didnt want to see her hurt, I was hoping for a good laugh! (oh well...)

After that we filled our weekend with none other than a bad-ass trip to the library. Now were ballin! (translation: sarcasm that we are indeed nerds and not cool). Did you know that the library has CDs that you can check out? This ultimately means you can take em home, stick em on your iPod and gain music...for...free!!!!!!! Sweet deal! Im going to do some CD research right after this blog. I suggest you music/iPod buffs do the same...

Our final activity of the weekend (I know youre waiting with anticipation) was a trip to Kerry park in the beautiful, ritzy and affluent neighborhood of Queen Anne. Well, leave it to us, and by us I mean Donia of course, to take a bus, but not the best bus, to the park. We end up off the bus, only knowing where we were going by the direction of the pointed finger our bus driver provided us with. So, walking in that general direction on nothing but a wing and a prayer, and with great trepidation, we see a girl unloading something from her trunk. Donia says excuse me, we are looking for Kerry park, and the girl gives us this serious look and says "Will you lift one end of this please...". She said it like it would be our payment for her directions! Donia obliged, and then she said, all serious" Ok, you are pretty far and will need to truck it up that hill about 6 blocks. ummmm...see that guy wayyyyyyy up there, you have to go up those steps and then its to the left". Ok, so weve got our directions, but there are 101 problems with this whole scene. First off:

1. She was strange. And what she needed help with Donia said was actually very light. I hate wussy girls.

2. The hill she pointed to was about an 80 degree angle. The stairs that we saw the man on (we pretended to see the man becasue it was that far and are both blind as bats) was a 90 degree angle. We were fucked.

3. There was a bus that took us all the way up the hill and dropped us right near the park. We did not opt to take that bus. We suck.

So we start out on our journey and have no water or snacks. I had to actually stop at one point during one of our rests (we took 2) and use my inhaler. We finally reach the stairway to Heaven (which is where I figured they led cuz we couldnt see the top of them) and we see a man 40 years our senior running up and down them, voluntarily, as exercise! Now we felt dumb and out of shape.

We finally make it to the top and see the...park? That patch of grass and benches? Hm, it was a nice view (seeing as we climbed to the top of the world) of Seattle...absolutely alllll of Seattle, but a park? It was a glorified lawn. People in that neighborhood had yards bigger than it! My mom's yard is bigger! We were happy to be there, though, so we took a seat and enjoyed the view. Wow, what a nice place. Oh wait, you dont know, cuz you werent there and we didnt even bring a camera for pictures. Daytrip fumble 86. So we sat for a while, watched the families with their kids run around and play and photograph, and then read a little bit. Were on this I-read-to-Donia-like-shes-a-child kick right now. So I think that what Ive checked out of the library is a book by comedic author Dave Sedaris. I open the book and begin reading one of his short essays, or so I think. Im getting thru it and not laughing, and neither is she. Im bored by the story, and not til I get to the end and read the words "...my husband..." do I shut the book and realize that some woman wrote the book! Some unfunny woman! Dave Sedaris, consequently, wrote the Forward, not the book! Stupid library! When I typed in to search books by him, they led me to that piece of garbage! I found myself frustrated that Id wasted 10 minutes suffering thru her boring childhood memories. What a misleading system this library is! (The CD thing is still cool, though, so...) After my wasted reading time, we climb back down the stairs and got on the closer bus and made it home safe and sound. I had half a mind to march straight to the library and return that crappy book an hour after Id picked it up, throwing it on the counter of the "informnation" desk, and scolding the geek behind the desk to "Get her shit straight!". I didnt, though, cuz Im not that mean, nor do I have roid rage, or anger management problems, or anyhting of the sort. Im so glad Im not one of those people that would actually go thru with a stunt like that. They do exist though, and thats sad to me.

So, an end to a fun weekend and now its back to the grind. *HAHAHAHA...grind...thats funny. As if I have work...*

Well, I feel Ive blabbed enough. Im sure you feel the same. Check back later in the week for a riveting blog with such topics as 'me needing new shoes' and 'what I ate for lunch'. Its sure to be a killer. Or the boredom'll kill ya, either one...

The End of An Era...

2008-03-04T20:03:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Favre has retired. I hang my head in sadness. I had another blog to write, but I need some time...

Word Nerd

2008-02-28T17:39:00.000-08:00

Thursday, February 28, 2008

If anyone watched A.I. Tues. night, you know what the title of this blog is referring to. If not, long story short, one of the contestants loves crossword puzzles and search-a-words--said he had an "obsession", and he called himself a word nerd. I, too, would like to step up and say "Hey! Im not embarassed (ok maybe I am) to say Im a word nerd, too!" As we speak, (as I type, you read) I have a Variety Puzzle book sitting on my desk. It is almost finished and it is 2 weeks old. I loveveveveveveveveveve puzzles and do them absolutely every night. In college I went thru this jigsaw puzzle stage where Id buy em, do em, then glue em and hang em. Tacky (no pun intended), but utterly satisfying to look up while youre peeing and see that gorgeous creation looking back at you. Jigsaws take lots of space, though, which I dont find I have much of these days. Some day maybe Ill have a jigsaw room, where my friends and I willl laughhh and puzzle! hahahaha-youre soooo right. Ill probably have no friends and puzzle alone :( As a child my Nana introduced me to fill ins, which are cooler than crosswords and dont require knowing answers to questions like "Actor Alda?" in order to fill in the grid (update: I now know its Alan). Those were my first and remain my favorite types of puzzles. The circle-a-word seemed to be DJs favorite, but I secretly knew mine were harder to do and for smarter kids (hahahahajkjkjk). No really.

Now I find myself puzzling day and night. I already want to purchase a new book, I hate when Ive run out and have no backups in the house. Its like running out of crack, for a crackhead of course. Doing them online is just not the same. Takes me longer to type the stupid words, and I like to doodle while I puzzle, too. (God, I already sound like a lady with too many cats!) I dont care if anyone wants to judge---go ahead!!! Laugh! Poke fun! When you all come down with Alzheimer's in 50 years, and Im as sharp as a tack, youll be sorry! (Except, well, you probably wont. Youll have Alzheimers. You wont recall you ever did it (aww, sad for you)).

I was thinking that I guess this, along with my love for reading writing and arithmetic, makes me a "nerd" (case in point: I recently was introduced to the website math.com and was way more ecstatic to do random math problems for no reason than I should have been.) I like it. Id take nerd over some other things, like "hobo" or "leper". It brought me to think about all the different types of people there are and why I am not one of them instead:

Redneck: Yes, I grew up in Coventucky (thanks Nina), RI, so one could say Im bordering on this, but I like to fight that point with this one--I have never, nor would I ever, date someone in my immediate family. Or step-family. Thats quite a feat for a redneck. They dont like to branch out, I believe its because their old beat up pick-up trucks probably wouldnt make it to the next county--hell, next neighborhood, in order for them to meet other singles. Stick to the farm [animals]. Also, I dont ever have a blade of grass hanging from my mouth, I dont wear plaid, and I cant milk a cow or spit watermelon seeds really far. Top reason, though: I hate country music. Period.

Gangsta: So Ive been known to run my mouth, while drunk, with the best of em, but never have I been seriously considered "gangsta". I think Im tough, but I know Im not, and this has been the main reason I was never initiated in to a gang. Also, I never found one that suited me. I hate blue, red clashes with my hair, and Im not "Latin" enough, Ive been told. Im still looking for the perfect gang that wears pink and loves dancing to Britney Spears hits. Oh well. Its probably better off, Ill be safer "unaffiliated", but I am disappointed I cant be gangsta for the comfortable fashion. When everyhting is 8 sizes too big, you never feel self-conscious about your body!!!

Preppie: The Gap makes me nervous. I cant see wearing the same shirt every day but in 10 different Earth tones. Its too plain for me, too blah. Argyle sweaters look itchy. Polo shirts with collars popped were cool circa 2004 as and Applebees employee uniform, but I just cant bring myself to do it anymore. I dont feel I fit the part (and dont even get me started on khakis). Too distinguished, too proper, and not colorful enough. Plus, I have too much of a potty mouth for that fashion.

Hippie: I am as far from hippie as Posh Spice or Eminem. I dont hug trees, I dont make my own clothes, dont smoke weed, and definitely dont like The Dead. I eat meat, which i have tried to give up and cant, plus veganism is just wayyyy too much work! I love the Earth, but not like those crazy in love with the Earth peeps. I need to wash my hair, I need to shave my armpits, and I cant run around in flowy chiffon skirts all the time, what shoes would I wear? Oh yeah, none. Not happenin.

Jock: Main reason--I cant dribble a basketball. I cried the first time I was taken to a public court and tried to be taught to do a layup. No, literally. Not just whined about it, like broke down in tears. Ive always wanted to be sporty, but the closest I ever come is going to the gym, which, thank God, im pretty successful at. As for real sports, I was the kid with the asthma that had to sit out after 10 minutes of rigorous play. The closest I come these days is billiards and poker. Those are sports, right? (Just say yes and spare the freckled-red-head's-asthmatic-feelings).

Butch: I like my hair. I like my form-fitting clothes. And I like that Im actually a girl. Some people feel differently, but this is me. Plus, Im not a lezzie, which counts me out right there. Now dont tell any tough gay girls about this, Im scared. (You know, not being gansta and all...)

Yuppie Snob: I dont know anyone like this mainly because when I see them I go the other way. They think theyre better, drink their Starbucks, read their Wall Street journal cover to cover and turn me right off from wanting to associate with them. I like kind people who will flash you a smile, not throw big words at you til youre too confused to think. Maybe Im just not smart enough to fit in with them...or maybe its that I believe theres more to life than reading the dictionary and bragging about how great my boring job is.

Homeless: I feel for them, but this is why I stay off drugs and booze (ok fine, not the last one), keep working, and save my money. Now there are all sorts of reasons people become homeless, of course Im sensitive to that, but I just try to avoid anyhting that may even bring me close. Im a baby in the cold and like my privacy. And we all know what my hair looked like after 7 days without a shower!

Club Kid: Too flashy and drugged up. I dont have the money for it really. I like to remember my weekends, for the most part, and I dont wanna have to live in an 8 bedroom house with 12 roommates if I dont have to, just to support my habit. The act of sucking on a pacifier while wearing sequins and sparkles and dancing like a loony has never been my cup of tea. Or cup of water-to-keep-my-dehydrated-ecstasy-ridden-body-going.

Valley Girl: My voice is too low. I dont have the funding from my "daddy". And I certainly am not wearing short plaid skirts with color-coordinated sweater sets. I dont want people looking at me like my IQ borders on mildly retarded if Im not. And I dont want my 1 priority to be at what age I should get my first job---by that i mean boob job, nose job, and lypo job.

So I guess Ill stick to me. Mean sometimes, sweet sometimes, terribly sarcastic, super geek, but always aiming to please.

(Blehhhhh...I just threw up on myself! Who wrote that last line! She should be beaten and left for dead! Stupid wussy girl.)

**********Special Baby Announcement**************

Welcome to the world, Sadie Rae Willard! Born sometime yesterday, could have weighed 21 lbs and been 34" long for all I know. Keep me in the loop, people!!!! Cute kid though, and shes already on Myspace!!! Her About Me talks about how she likes being born and eating and dislikes being changed and everything else shes never learned yet. Her Who Id Like To Meet includes Jesus, Madonna, and Miley Cyrus.

***********************************************

~If anyone was offended by any of the things I said Im sorry, I really am. It was not meant to be offensive in any way. Jst a little humor to brighten your day~

~oh yeah, and if you were offended, grow a set...~

Uppers, Downers, and Oscars Galore!

2008-02-26T17:38:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Blog 63:

The title of this blog may be misleading. I love being heavily medicated as much as the next guy, but its not at all what I refer to (this time). Since I left Rhody i havent been sick. Not for a day. Living out of the car, seedy hotel rooms, scorching weather in Vegas and dreary wether here, nothing got me ill. Until, of course, now. My boss was sick two weeks ago, but seeingas we have a totally plutonic relationship (like any normal boss/employer, except maybe a choice few from APPLEBEES!) I figured her sickness would not catch me. Then, Donia was sick. Great, by the time she realized her throat hurt, well, too late. We cough and sneeze all over each other at all times, cute eh?, so I knew I was doomed. Not until after my throat was scratching like newborn kitten did I remember Id bought Airborne. OOPS. Never good with the whole sick thing. So now Im ridin it out. The voice is a little raspy/cute, though, so Im really dealing well with it.

Speaking of sick, I was thinking about those people, we all know at least one, who are always 1-upping you with their sicknesses. 1-uppers are my least favorite humans. You know who Im talking about, those people who have to 1-up you with everything. You have a happy story, they have a better one. You have a depressing tale, they have a more tragic one. You got a puppy, they own 5 g..horses all the sudden. You have a cold, theyre dying of some made-up illness. Theyre always trying to outdo you, and you know this because as youre telling your story you can see them thinking about their better story, and it usually begins immediately fter your story. If they dont cut you off. Theres also those people who are just always sick. "How are you?" Sick, so sick, sick for weeks, probably almost dying". "Oh, I have the flu, nothing big, doing ok". "Oh no, mines serious. Killer flu. Im pretty much never healthy, nor will I be healthy again". "Nice talkin to ya". (exit quickly)

Then theres the people who I second dont like, but are much more bearable indeed. They are those people who just do dumb shit. For no reason, and theyre not really stupid, they just always end up doing stupid things so carelessly. Though I am not perfect, I most definitely have faults, I am not one of these people. Therefore, I must blame the occurance last weekend on my sickness. (Just let me have that, will ya!?) Or maybe it was drunkedness, I cant really remember. When you drink morning noon and night, it all runs together (heehee...errr...joke?) I woke up Saturday morning and Donia said she had a present for me. Sweet! Saturday presents, whats better than that? Then she follows it up with, "Well, you left it for yourself, so I left it for you". Ugh. What a fun present this is gonna be...I turn the corner of the kitchen and I see a huge brown puddle on the floor. I approach it a little closer and see that its thick, its chocolate, it gooey. Fuck. Its all over the top of the fridge, its all down the side of the fridge, and of course, the floor. So heres the story: the night before we had some drinks. Do with that what you will. Then I just had this urge to make cupcakes. To my surprise, the cupcakes came out phenominally, but there were 24 of them, so I decided to freeze half. Our freezer is full of so much shit, seeing as Donia McFrugal buys enough food for months in advance. If theres a storm, or a disaster, or any end-of-the-world shit going on, we will be fed. And fat. Anywho, I rearranged the freezer to the best of my abilities, first taking things out, then putting things back more orderly. *Ahem*-Almost everything went back, I guess you could say. I apparently put the ice cream, the fi..ull half gallon, on top of the fridge. And left it there. All night. (No wonder everything fit back in so well!) So, I was punished, made to clean up my mess. Oh, but to add to the frustration and stupidity, Nash and Gus had a mighty tasty breakfast that morning, chocolate chips, chocolate, and marshmallow all over the floor. Then Gus threw it all up. 4 times. In various areas of the apartment. Mommy made baby sick :( If he was a human baby and that was poison, Id be charged with neglect! (Though I dont know why Id have poison in the freezer, and I dont know why I wouldnt pay more mind to it thawing on top of the fridge. I needed an analogy, sorry). And then, the thrid worst people to me are those who tell you to do something and then complain its not done exactly to their liking...THEN CLEAN IT YOUR DAMN SELF! Sorry I got loud...

Did anyone watch the Oscars? Yeah, neither did the rest of the country, dont worry. Lowest Oscars ina while, down 21% from last year. ("How does she know these stats!?" "Her job, remember, surfing the web aimlessly?" "Oh Yeah") I, of course, the freak I am about awards and celebrities, did tune in. All 3.5 hours. John Stewart was hilarious. The majority of winners were from outside of the US. Good for them. What does that say about us. We dont need a writers strike again, thats for sure. Were all whining about money meanwhile the rest of the world is stealing our little gold statues right out from under us. Stupid Americans (Im pretty sure anytime someone went up and accepted their award and spoke another language, thats what they were saying). The highlight of the night for me was when Juno finally won something! Not movie or actress or supporting, but screenplay. Thats a pretty good one. So, gothic ex-stripper queen Diablo Cody goes up and accepts her award. She is souped! Shes honored! Shes awesome, and trashy, and great! Heres what went on at this moment:

Donia: "How much you wanna bet shes not wearing Versace?"

Leah: "Or underwear"

Go Diablo! Youre on my Top Ten if you have an half-dressed depiction of yourself tattooed on your arm and your name is "Devil" in Spanish.

Well, week 4 of the job and yet to meet a right live client. This is gonna suck when I have to actually work at work.

Hey, anyone have any baby news for me yet? Im outta the loop.

Ok, gotta go, Im using someone elses comp and he is forced to sit on the floor. Poor guy, its not even a clean floor. Oh well, til then...

An apology...

2008-02-23T17:37:00.000-08:00

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Just so you know, this blog is being written by a very regretful and sullen person. My name is Donia. Most of you may only know me as 'that other girl pictured with Leah' in most of her albums. I'll cut right to the point. Instead of reading a well thought out and rather witty blog by a one, Ms. Leah Dub, by a series of bad computer choices made by myself this morning, you are stuck reading a whole hearted, yet bordering on pathetic blog by me. Leah did in fact begin a blog this morning, 4 paragraphs of it completed. Yet due to my lack of attention and irresponsibility, that blog no longer exists. Leah took a break from her blogging to take a long overdue, much needed shower when just before entering the bathroom, she turned around towards me, took a deep breath and an overdramatic pause and said "I'm talking a shower. I started my blog, so DON'T shut the computer down." I thought perhaps she was taking me for a capricious, harebrained nitwit (yes nitwit...it'll catch on). I'm not stupid enough to do that. Well, as I began my morning full of overcreamed coffee and googling. I unfortunately, and as stated before, regretably used her "unfinished blog" window to further my research on Golden Garden's Park in Seattle. It took me 5 minutes and the silencing of the showerhead to realize the the window titled "myspace" no longer shown on my desktop. Leah's blog was no longer a work in progress.

I do apologize (again) for any inconvenience this may have caused to your morning, er afternoon. Hopefully a new and improved blog by Ms. Leah Dub will be coming soon. Please forgive my idiotness.

...and for a small sneak peak of the blog to come. Let's just say I'm not the only idiot in the house Now carry on...

Sincerely,
A very, very sorry Donia Lee...

Maybe if it's about nothing its about something...

2008-02-20T10:03:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

I have gotten the threatening emails. Ive received the dead animal carcasses in the mail. Ive beefed up on my apartment's security. They want another blog, and they wont let me rest until they get one. ("They" refers to my mom, as well as a random person or two from home who has a day job with a computer and gets bored at lunch and cant access porn, therefore needing my blog to entertain them.) So, here it is folks, nothing to say, nothing to report, nothing special. Just empty words on an empty page from an empty being (hahaha that last part was a joke. A dark and depressing joke).
Im here at my "job", a word I use loosely because we are still waiting for a contact from the Gov't, the state, the county, and weve been waitin a while. Someday I will be able to tell you how exciting and fulfilling this position is; until then, Ill only be able to report further on my non-happenings of everyday life, and, of course, celebrity gossip.
You know how I said that getting coffee in Seattle is equivalent to the costliness of having to remortgage your home to pay for a long stay in the hospital after a tragic accident? Well, yesterday the Lord above (and if not him, the Lord of Espresso) answered my financial prayers and accidently made the "barista" (definiton: one who makes fancy coffee for snotty people) mess up on my order! He called out my drink and I apologetically informed him that that was not what I ordered. That I, unlike anyone he'd ever met in his life, had ordered a plain iced coffee, black, with only a hint of flavoring. He was truly confused, but very understanding. He pulled the mess-up off the counter and made me the correct beverage. Then, the miracle: he asked "Hey, do you want the mess-up? You can offer it, or throw it, at a homeless person". Ignoring the insensitive (and hil-arious) homeless guy comment, I said "Yeah, sure" trying desperately not to show my sheer excitement! So, I waltzed (as, you know, I can now do) out of there with a coffee in each hand and a big grin on my face. Then I quickly wiped the grin off; you get ejected from the building for being too happy in a Seattle Starbucks...
Made banana bread last night. Youre all missing it...
I am so very interested in American Idol, really I am, but its too long of a process now. Does anyone else feel like weve been watching since last Fall and just finally coming to the ever-popular Top 24? I had to skip out on it last night, only flipping occasionally back, because Im really into Biggest Loser. I feel like Ill miss too much if I dont watch it, and A.I. will be around for a loooonnnggg time, if it keeps going the way it has been. I saw a couple male performances, but its not really great til theres less people and we know a little more about each one. (Who am I kidding, its not great until one of the voted off girls has a sex tape on the net the next morning and one of the voted off guys has a possession or domestic violence charge against him the following week.) Thats what Im talkin 'bout!
Donia's fam was here last week and what a time we had! Saw lots of Seattle, but not like you'd think. Space Needle? No. Underground city tour? Nope. Karaoke bars? Yes Yes Yes!!! We had so much fun! Wednesday we went to a karaoke bar called "Ozzies". Fun place, but it was dead. Also, the karaoke "DJ" was a whore off the street, which was weird. No, seriously, she had a tight little black mini number on, spike heels, and those nylons with the line up the back, to make her look more sexy/slutty. Her hair was long and straggly past her butt, and seeing as Im the only one who actually saw her face, I can say it was kinda like one of the witches from the Wizard of Oz. Sorry, no, im mistaken, only the witches from the East or West, not Glenda. Anyway, we had a great meal, her dad sang a couple songs and we left. Fast forward to Friday (well get back to V-day), we try out karaoke at Sunset Bowl. Thats right, Bowl, as in Bowling alley, Bowlarama, Bowl til you drop, Bowl yourself into the trailor park. That bar was far too small and cramped, so we all had a drink and decided to stick with an ole fav...ok, a fav wed just found 48 hours earlier. It was back to Ozzies! There, we walked into a bar that apparently had quite a tragedy happen right before our arrival. I am referring to the frat and sorority houses that must have thrown up in there. Or, they may have all burned down, forcing their refugees to seek solace in a bar called Ozzies. Either way, at least we were the right age to be there. It was loud, rowdy, full of fun, and just the place we were seeking. Donia's dad was awesome and sang a couple songs. At one point he asked me what he should sing, and I had to throw out the oldie but goodie "Sweet Caroline". Having gone to college myself not too far back, I know that when youve got a room full of drunk twenty-somethings, that song gets the party started (sorry P!nk). And sure enough, my prediction was right. People were singing, dancing, screaming in delight. Go Donn! Another cool thing that I envy is the networking her brother and his friend were able to do while having a cigarette with a huge scray bouncer named "Dana" on Wednesday night. They bonded because they were all from New England. Well, wouldntcha know...Dana saw us in the long ass line Friday night and let us cut everyone! They gave daps to each other and we were in. Needless to say, the line was not happy with us...Leave it to Gino and Mike to have "connections" in Seattle after 3 days. But we all looked damn cool going in VIP...
Needless to say, the next day was rough. 6 hungover people. 2 chihuahuas. One apartment. No good. So, we ventured out for a bit to Pike Place Market, then it was a quiet night in for everyone. The next day, we put them in a 1986 beige Dodge Caravan and sent them off to the airport. It takes a lot out of you to entertain guests for a whole week. Gladly, we spent all of Sunday reading the paper, getting donuts for breakfast (yum!) and sleeping off the pure exhaustion of our week's fun.
Thursday was V-Day, and even though everyone said they could fend for themselves if we wanted to go out, we decided to stay in and spend it with them. It was a night of poker where, of course, I won. We had chocolates at my work, and there was an exchanging of cards, so it was celebrated just as I believe it should be...low-key and cheap:)
Monday was the first 3 day weekend I think Ive ever had! It was great! Another well-deserved lazy day of eating sushi (rather, she ate sushi; I ate cooked foods such as chicken and rice) and taking a walk to a famous park here in Seattle, Gasworks park. It was really pretty, you could see the water. There were all sorts of people out, with their loved ones, their dogs, their kids. Very relaxing. One thing that kept me uneasy and on my toes, though, was that we were in the neighborhood of the one and only DAVE MATTHEWS! Yes, thats right, Ive seen him 16 times in concert and have loved him for 10 years and then the one place we decide to randomly move to is the new home of Dave and his family! I couldnt believe it when I heard it. Now, I havent found his house yet, but trust me Ive looked it up. I know the neighborhood and general vicinity its in, but not exactly where yet. I kinda heard and read and assumed for myself that no one around here stalks him like they do one Miss Britney Spears, so if I did see him I didnt want to be one of "those girls", but, for the love of God its Dave! Ive concluded I should not do any sort of searching for him and just let him be. What would I say, anyway, without looking stupid and typical? "I love you and your music". "You are amazing" "Ive paid you lots of money over the years with my purchases of concert tickets". "Ill babysit your kids if you need". "Ill walk your dog even though I hate bulldogs". "It kinda sounds like you say my name in Crush, but you dont, but I like to pretend you do". I think its safest for all parties for me to just act like I dont know hes here. Its depressing, and hard to resist stalking him, but its safest. You never know though:
"Girl Attacks Peaceful Rocker in Coffee Shop" ...news at 11
What do you get when you cross a bored worker with a computer and too much time?
A blog

"They tried to make me go to th' Grammy's...

2008-02-12T09:56:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

...I said NO NO NO!"
Instead, miss Winehouse opted to perform via satellite. Bravo. More on this later...
So, as some of you may know, Im a huge fan of Awards shows; especially the Grammys. When I was young and did something wrong, my punishment would be to not allow me to watch awards shows! It was worse than Death! I remember being banished from the Grammys one year at age 7 or 8 and being able to hear MC Hammer perform from my bedroom and thinking how unfair and devastating it was to be punished! At that moment I studied when the shows would be on, and like kids around Christmas time, behave myself the week prior to ensure my viewing pleasure.
Last night I was so excited to watch the show. My favorite, of course, has always been the performances. To my delight, in recent years they have really started making that the focus of the show. They give out like 6 awards live, and the rest (110 as someone noted on the show last night) in an earlier ceremony. Thank God. Still, the show ran a bit long for me last night. Almost 4 hours, with the last half hour being a blur, whether it was because it was just God-awfully boring, or because I had been drinking since the pre-show (there wasnt actually a televised pre-show that I saw, just one I created at the apartment entailing me, Donia, the dogs, and some vodka and coke with leftover Chinese. Good turnout, though). Either way, After Amy W, it was downhill. I decided today that Id write a review of the show and give you my "Highs" and "Lows" of the evening. From fashion to performances to a few quality quotes I was delighted with. If you saw the show, follow along. If not, you can decide whether to even play it back on your DVR or just erase it and save the space...
Lets start with the "Highs". Of course, if you'd rather start with the "Lows", just scroll down and read that first. This is really an interactive blog today...
Here goes...
Highs
Carrie Underwood: Got love American Idol stardom, and you gotta love more how fantastic that set was for that song. She changed it up a bit (cuz shes prob dead tired of singing it) and, um hellllo! Those boots!! Fantastic, I want a pair, but only if they come with the legs that were in them so I can attach them to myself.
Beatles: Lifetime Achievement, of course. What a cool way to see it though, through Cirque Du Soleil. One of the best parts. P.S. How jacked was that woman on the ropes!!!???
Cindi Lauper and Miley Cyrus presenting song of the year, or whatever it was: Heres a high and a low in one. Cindi "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" Lauper is still badd-ass, hands down. The hair, the dress falling off the shoulder, it could only be topped if shed come out with the half-shaved-head 'do from her early 80's vids. She's got a girl crush on Amy Winehouse, and she was so biased when reading that she was the winner. Loved it. Hated: Miley "My teeth are bigger than my dads music career" Cyrus. I cant stand the mouth, the eyes, the goth whore theyve turned her into in 6 short months. My Achy Breaky Eyes need a rest...
Though banished to the outdoors, how cute and funny was Jason Bateman?! What a shit job he got, having to announce the Grammy winner for "best person playing a stringed instrument that no one had ever heard of or cared about". He made that segment worthwhile, though, with his witty one-liners, which didnt seem to be scripted. Congrats to the violin player, who won by default because the voters decided shes the only one theyd actually consider sleeping with...
And good for her being able to play 1 of 100 instruments behind the Foo Fighters. They make me miss Kurt...
Ringo Starr: High because I think he was just that, HIGH! Where were all the other Beatles? Actual quote from Donia, who spoke too quickly, "Where's John?" "Dead". "Oh, yeah, I meant Paul". Ouch. You gotta love that he went straight up there in front of the guy that actually WON the award and said "Thank you, Im Ringo Starr". Weird cat.
Cher is on this list because she looks like she did when I first saw her at age 6. No, like seriously. Exactly the same. Gay men everywhere were in tears when she stepped out onto that stage. Shell play 200 shows in the next three years in Vegas. Can you say Las Gaygas?
Alicia Keys: Her second performance of the night. The one where she is with John Mayer, who was not spotlighted enough, might I add. She sounded good, unlike at the Super Bowl 2 weeks ago where she wore a wretched outfit, danced like a junior high schooler, and lipped the whole song. John should have had a vocal solo. Highlight of this, as well as highlight of the fashion night for me, was those black leather tights she wore under her dress! Are you kidding me!!?? I neeed those tights! Those tights are hot! Ill need a sparkly dress, too, but the tights must be mine! Be on the lookout...
Vince Gill: Now you know Im not into country at all. As a matter of fact, as they were playing excerpts from each nominees' songs, I had my eyes closed, and thought they were just playing a Garth Brooks album beginning to end. Its all the same to me. (and yes, ma, rap's all the same to you). So Gill wins it and goes onstage to Ringo Starr and accepts his award. He says "Wow, I cant believe I just got an award from a Beatle. Kanye, I bet you cant say youve ever had that..." HAHA! A hillbilly twang country bumpkin singer takin a dig at Kanye. It was brilliant. Notice, though, that it was immediatley followed up by an "Im just kidding" from Vince. He didnt want to be the next victim of a rap-game drive-by...but Go Gill!
Will.I.Am performed at the end of the show with a mini montage of great Grammy songs thru the years. It was really great, but way too short. They should have done more with it.
Beyonce came out, and normally Im not a B fan. Shes too much for me, too over the top. Thats why the choice for her to sing "Proud Mary" with the one and only Tina Turner was perfect. She didnt compare to Tina in the least bit, but she worked what she could out of it. Tina "Im a bad-ass motha" Turner should be buried in that outfit, hands down. Who wears that ever, nevermind in their 60's? Shes fab. Only she can do it. I was also ok with seeing B's hair short and blonde, best hair shes had in a while. And thank the Lord above, B was not dressed like a drag queen. Finally...
RiRi, as shes referred to, is none other than Rihanna, who I have been addicted to as of late. Shes such a cool performer to watch, and I love her edgy look. Her songs, eh; after Umbrella I was mildly disappointed with the rest, but I always give her a fair shot. Everytime I see her on TV I just love her, but this performance she did with TIME (who?) was just bad. Changed up the song a bit, fine, but the dress!!!??? Wheres the bondage girl outfits shes so famous for? No leather straps or belts or boots, just a frilly bird of a thing she wrapped around herself at the last minute! Dis-appointed to say the least. And her hair...bleh! Awful! Give me the angled bob, RIRI! This was a big low, but its in the highs because she did win an award and her acceptance speech, accompanied by Jay-Z, was playful and cute. Think miss Beyonce ever gets jealous...hmmm, cat fight?
Because Amy Winehouse couldnt make it there live, she couldnt be my number one, but she did make it to Top 2. Her performance was so much more than I expected. No crack, no gross ballet slippers, no blonde disaster of a hairdo. Just the good ole (yet a bit skinnier) Amy that we know and love. The beehive, the tats, the eyeliner back to the ears. Love love love her. She threw her husbands name into her songs a couple times. She said "For my Blake incarcerated" in her acceptance speech. Well, thats one way to put it, stand by your man I guess. She surprised me with her bouncing around and mini dance steps. And the best win of the night is when they announced that shed won record of the year. She froze, and then cuddled herself into the arms of one of her large black backup singers. Adorable. She couldnt have been cuter if she was a box of kittens. She actually seemed grateful and surprised. Stay off the crank, Amy, we love ya...
I saved my fav for last. Kanye F'in West. I just love him. I hate that hes so cocky, but I cant help but indulge myself in some Mr. West. The glow-in-the-dark jacket! I was glowing myself! Hes so great, so different, does so many things weve never seen before (though Eminem did once perform with a light up hoodie. We cant forget that.) The performance was my 1 because he didnt have a bunch of his "homies" onstage with him, he rapped the whole thing, he was so intense, he danced the whole time, and of course, the Mama part at the end. We almost cried. He let himself and who he was actually go for a moment and just sang to his mama, may she rest in peace. He almost cried too, and that makes for an excellent performance in my book.
Lows
Ill try to make this as simple as possible because I dont want it turning this blog into a low. Let me just say without the lows, I wouldnt have had time to make drinks or pee, so thank you, Grammys.
The opening number: We all love Frank, yes, but with Alicia Keys? Just didnt mesh for me. Old blue eyes just isnt the same from beyond the grave.
Who the hell is TIME, and why do they suck so bad? Did anyone tell that man that velour track pants and a paisley jacket is a no-no? Apparently not.
RiRi: Just wanted to say again how much I hated the hair. It was the same style as Prince's for God's sake!! Ok, Im done. Swear.
Speaking of...Prince=Gross. He thinks hes such a lady's man, when what he is is such a lady. Period.
The Band? Huh? Ohhhh, I see. Good time to pee.
Fergilicious bleh. No. Just no. Stop singing. Stop the facial plastic surgeries. Stop thinking youre good without the Black-Eyed Peas. Enough already. Just cuz you used to be all cranked out on Meth and now youre not doesnt mean you can just step on the stage and wail like a dying giraffe. Leave. And...John Legend! You should be ashamed of yourself! Promoting her as a good singer! Your punishmnet is to only be able to sell your new CD at Target. Oh, theyre already doing that. Oh, ok, i see. Ill think of a new punishment for you!! Disastrous!
Times I napped briefly:
Brad Paisley's performance. Aretha "biggest boobs on a human ever" Franklin's performance. The dueling pianos' performance. (Woke up halfway thru that one, actually, and had Donia knock me over the head so I could miss the rest).
Times I got up and made drinks/did shots to ease the pain:
Feist's performance (sorry Donia). Kid Rock and old lady Jane or whatever the hell her name was. Go back into retirement, or should I say the retirement home. Burt/Burk/Berth(?) Backarat.
Times I was able to take a pee break, often just hanging out in the bathroom because it was more interesting than the performer:
Anything to do with country. The piano guy who was 8 and is now 16 and back again and blah blah blah. Anything to do with a piano. Groban and his blind opera singing friend (sorry ma). Jerry Lee Whois? and his posse of oldies...its like the elderly bus let off at the wrong stop and just let everyone onstage.
******************************************************
Quotes of the night:
"...And lazy in the chair over there, playing the chelo..."
~Jason Bateman making fun of the seated third contestant in the Grammy contest.
"...It would be in good taste to turn the music off now..."
~Kanye West, after taking too much time onstage and being drowned out by backround "wrap it up" music, while talking about his dead mama.
"My Blake Incarcerated"
~Amy W.
"Ill do whatever you want"
~ Old lady to Kid Rock, about what they should do onstage. (dont say that, lady!)
*******************************************************
The thing that made me laugh the most, in my sleepy drunken stupor, was Herbie Hancock winning album of the year. What?!! Know what I thought when he was named as a nominee? "Who the fuck is that?" and "That old guys never gonna win!" Oops, spoke too soon. Hes so old and decrepit that he was reaching for his speech, it fell out of his pocket to the floor, he didnt even know, and kept reaching for it! Stop making music! Go home! Pull the plug already!
I wasnt the only one appalled/surprised by his win. I heard Kanye gave up rap altogether and is now an ordained minister, the foo fighters killed themselves to joined Kurt, Vince Gill actually started a gang fight to be out out of his misery, and Amy Winehouse took a hit of her crackpipe. There goes rehab...NO NO NO!

The Wino Has Crept Into My Dreams

2008-02-08T09:44:00.000-08:00

Friday, February 08, 2008

...from London! No, Amy Winehouse will not be making it to the States this weekend to serenade us with one of her songs (booo!), but she will be performing from the comforts of her rehab facility via satellite. We all win in the end. So last night I had a dream that I was attending a family function/party/soiree and Amy was there and at first she was cool but then she got all fucked up on something and started trying to take her clothes off! I was like "Winehouse, NO!" She was quickly escorted from the back yard. Maybe its cuz I ate chocolate too late last night, I dont know. My mom used to say if I had pizza before bed Id have nightmares. To this day I wont eat that garbage after 5 pm, but lots'a good thats doin me, huh? My head at night would scare children and even some feeble-minded adults away...
I am hideous without makeup! (No, not an invitation for compliments. Truth). You see, I like to sleep. Therefore, in the AM, I will lie in bed forever and pretend Ill have enough time to get ready even if I snooze once more. EHHHHH!! (thats supposed to sound like a buzzer). Wrong answer! So, then you run into "What step can I skip today to make it to work on time". You have to do the following things at home: shower, make your lunch, get dressed. Now, some things you could consider doing at work are: brushing teeth, drying hair, putting on makeup. Of these, I think that if I were to waltz in (I actually took lessons and now WALTZ in to places) with my hairdryer and tooth brush, they may send me upstairs to the live-in facility they have for ex-addicts. No thanks. So, alas, we come to the makeup. I can inconspicuously do this at my desk. No harm, no foul. But I get to work today and my colleague says "Lets go get coffee". Of course. Now Ive gotta take the walk and talk to her and the Starbucks people and the homeless men on the street makeupless! I cant be that girl whos like, "Sure Ill get coffee, one minute, just gotta look like Im full of myself and apply thick coats of mascara because Im quite homely without it". So I go. I feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, but I go.
HAHA, as Im writing this I realize I have come back from coffee, gotten sidetracked by MySpace, and still forgotten to put my makeup on! I just did it...live from my blog...
So my boss and I were MySpacing possible new employees the other day. Haha, funny, laughing, giggling, searching, and then it hit me: Did she MySpace me!!!???? If so, its kinda ok cuz my profile is private, but its kinda NOT ok cuz my name is Pill Poppin Hussy!!! It may be just me, but it may slightly send the wrong message, no? I know Im not one, you guys know (hey!!!) Im not one, but she doesnt. Moral of the story, keep it clean or keep it private, kids. And, if your name is something like PPH and they still hire you, show up the first day with the goods. They obviously brought you onboard to not only do your job, but deal drugs around the office as well. Two birds I guess...
LOST=GOOD. I find myself looking forward to it all week, reading message boards online, talking to coworkers about it, getting all cozy on thursday at 9 and then I realize that at the end of each episode Im just gonna say the same thing Ive been saying since last season. "WTF!?" I just dont get it. Im not supposed to, and if I did it'd be boring, but Im so...LOST! (haha, sorry, bad play on words, but its what we all are). Seriously, the guys who made this show are amazing! Where is it going? What does it mean? If the end to this show in 2010 is crappy in any way, I seriously fear for the lives of the writers and producers. Its gotta be something big!! Never heard of !! Believeable!! Or else, the crew deserve to die
T-minus 4 days and counting til our first ever Seattle visitors arrive! You know what this means...ok, maybe you dont...it means we have to clean clean clean this weekend! Why is it that kids always have to turn their lives upside down when their parents come by. Scrub the floors. Wipe the TV dust. Hide the bong. Stuff the porn in the closet. Blah blah blah. Maybe its cuz if our parents saw how we really lived, they actually wouldnt love us anymore. "Honey, I know I said Ill always love you, no matter what, but...Forest Hump? Booty and the Beast? I just cant. Goodbye, and good luck" Mommy no!!! Ok, so theres no porn to hide, and theres no bong while were at it. Not this time. Heehee, confession of the day: there was always a bong. How many times I had to run into my apartment and dive to grab it and run in the other room when certain visitors who gave me their DNA came over. One time I was just too dumb (or a stoner?) to realize that I actually left a bag of pot on the computer stand, and then asked my dad to come over and fix the computer! Yeah, he found it right away. He and Nancy had a "talk" with me. Intervention: done.
**side note: Im drug free and proud. No, seriously. Stop laughing! Swear to God!**
Alright, now that Ive shared, and shared too much I might add, Ill sign off and go back to work. I guess this is what DJ meant when he said I should get paid to blog...

Just w-o-w.

2008-02-04T09:44:00.000-08:00

Monday, February 04, 2008

Well, my Superbowl experience this year was much different than the last Steelers one I lazily fell asleep during. Hm, what to say, what to say. Since most of my family is in New England, I have to keep it slightly non-vicious and non-"haha" and non-"Brady better stick to modeling" because I dont want anyone too upset at me...It was a fantastic game. I was almost out due to a beer induced coma, when suddenly things got interesting around 3rd quarter for me. I sat up, swigged some Bud Light, had a hot wing, and mustered up all the energy inside me to send to baby Eli via ESP (I told you about Donia's uncle, sorry all). Now Im not ata ll taking credit for his win, but boy was it tense in our apartment. Donia was yelling...like a man...it was quite amusing actually. Every time she did, the dogs would jump and think they were getting in trouble. Nash spent the entire game on edge, and not for the same reason we all did! That ending was incredible, though, wasnt it (okokok, sorry. Stop crying, Im trying to be sensitive). I can tell you I didnt think it would go down that way. I was certain the Giants would lose. I was so against watching the whole thing just because og my sad loss a few weeks ago, but Im glad I did see it. The fact that they won kind of makes the GB loss less harsh. It wasnt all for nothing, they didnt lose just so the Giants could go and tget their asses handed to em. You had to be happy for Eli. Wonder what that family looks like at holidays. Feel bad for the third child who "doesnt have a superbowl ring". Poor sap. You definitely had to feel sooo sooo sad for Brady and Bellicheck, too. He looked awful. One chance and that was it. Ok, yeah, that was harsh. Im done now...
The snacks were my fav. Delicious food as always from lil miss homemaker, Donia.
So her father, brother, brothers friend, and on the weekend another of his friends, are all coming to stay with us the 12th thru 17th. Can you say Choas! Fun chaos Im sure though. We have work all week, so theyll be left with Nash and Gus to guide them on where to go in Seattle. Except theyll be doing that from the comfort of the couch seeing as they arent really huge fans of the city. Itll be nice to have some extra people around to have fun with and talk to. Well give our own little guided tour of Seattle as we know it (dont expect much more than bars and the occasional sushi joint). I HOPE SOMEONE I KNOW CAN VISIT SOON! Hint hint...
Its been a while since Ive written because of the new job. We are having fun. Im so glad I got into this field again. I dont miss the restaurant at all. The hours, the boredom, the bullshit. This is another story all together. I hope all goes well over the next couple months and I do well.
LOST. Am-azing. I am so excited about this season. Season 2 was ok, season 3 bored me a bit, but this one is off to a great start. Ive been online all weekend looking at LOST message boards, as well as secret websites they just made to give you clues to this season. Ive resisted reading "spoilers", which has been really hard for me. I have no patience. Im gonna hold out though and be just as amazed and surprised as the rest of the world as things unfold. If you havent seen LOST and have some time, watch Seasons 1-3 online, and catch up to us!! Its fantastic.
Nothing else to report right now. YOu can give up on reading if you want, I feel bad. Im a pretty boring human being right now.
Stay tuned next week for a special 'Three Men and a Little Lady Valentine Spectacular"...

Memorizing the Dictionary

2008-01-29T09:43:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Apparently thats all you smart asses do! I got more answers on how to spell "segway" (correct spelling "segue") than anything Ive ever written! Jackasses, get a life. And thanks
*Shoutout to DJ* Thanks for what seemed to begin as a really encouraging and flattering comment. Suck it! to you for stealing my THUNDER and writing so wittily and cleverly under MY blog! Keep your talents on your own page. but keep commenting...luv ya
Working is hard. Not the work, the getting up. Im so exhausted! My tasks once I get there are non-existent, but its just weird to have the whole purpose of your day to change. Like, my idea of a "successful" day before would be if I shaved my legs, or even took a shower for that matter! I mean seriously, I actually have to put a bra on now and it sucks! Otherwise work is fine. Lets see, today at the new job we...did nothing, went for a walk, read a page or two, did nothing, talked about personal lives, went for a walk, had lunch, went over 5 forms, went for a walk, I moved my monitor 6 inches, rearranged my stapler and tape dispenser, pushed my chair in, and went home. Somewhere in all that i peed 4 times (more coffee breaks today!). Then I walked in the windstorm of the century and Donia said, hours after shed first seen me, "Why's your face so red?" I got windburn, thats why!!!! 15 blocks uphill! It feels like a sunburn but the only way I can tell its the wind is becasue my hair is out of control! I look like a little kid that just played outside all day.
This blog was just a tease cuz Ive got nothin tonight. Seriously, noth-ing. Wheel of Fortune is on and I need my pjs. Leah: 27 going on 80.
I wish I had more. I wish exciting things happened. I wish I could say that I was walking downtown when an old lady asked me ever so gently to walk her across the street, to which I oblige, and as were halfway to our destination a man wearing a ski mask and fabulous shoes runs up and grabs her oversized wicker purse and just as shes screaming "thief!" I push her the rest of the way across the road and someone catches her safely and I take off running after the masked man and I jump on his back and poke his eyes and he falls forward and I grab the purse and kick him in the stomach just as a group of surly teens come over and give him the rest of what he deserves and then everyone claps and I run back down the block to Ethel who is awaiting with tears in her eyes and she says she wants to reward me and then she reaches into her purse to pull out what i anticipate will be at least a $20 bill for my troubles and she emerges with a butterscotch hard candy and places it in my palm and closes my fingers around it with a cute little old lady smile and I PUNCH her in the kisser because that bitch is cheap and I grab her bag and take off running in the opposite direction of the applauding crowd. I guess I just have nothing to say today...
Watch A.I.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Make 'em an offer he cant refuse...

2008-01-28T09:43:00.000-08:00

Monday, January 28, 2008

Wow, long time no write. As a I apologized for earlier, there was no writing yesterday, and for one good reason. 1st of all, Sunday I read the entire Sunday paper, so that took a while (yes! I read!). Then Donia and I embarked on a journey back to 1946 with none other than Marlon Brando as...The Godfather! Ive never seen it, but what a fucking cool movie! We watched 1 (the best) and are now on 2. Hope to stay up late and see 3 also tonight. (Partly cuz its great; partly cuz its 4 days late to be back to the library). Never before have I wanted to be Italian and kill people for a living so badly...
Today was day 1 of my new job and let me just tell you...GREAT! So laid back, such nice (all 2) people. Some crazy homeless bums hang out outside the office and smoke, but hey, I got a job! A soon as the funds start rolling in, we'll have a celebration (you can join us via internet if youd like. Oh, wait. Not you. Nope, you either. Just you guys. Yeah, and I guess you).
Speaking of celebrations (great segway between paragraphs today, huh? Oh yeah, can someone see how to spell segway for me...), this Saturday night was once a month club night here in Seattle (for us anyway) and boy was it a hoot! *note: no one says hoot anymore. Please do not mimic my use of it. You will be laughed at* We walked to this club 4 blocks away and played some pool to start off the night. We were doing okay at first (which means I beat Donia), but then we got some tough opponents. "Inez" (I may or may not have changed the name to protect the innocent. And by innocent I mean me. "Inez" was a large woman, and should she ever come upon this blog, she may want to hurt me) was a fantastic player. That means, The Bitch Beat Me. 2 out of 3. Shit! Its the only talent I have, besides spinning a basketball on my finger for 30 seconds straight. (well, I want to do that. I have never actually done it. So its not a talent, technically. I guess. Moving on...). Donia did the old too-drunk-too-quick thing that all Junior High status drinkers go thru, so she sat for a while and watched. Or napped, Im not sure, I wasnt keeping an eye on her. When Id noticed her slumped over, I just propped her back up. Anyway, I was into it, dancin around by myself, feelin the rhythm, when what is this? Shes semi-conscious for a sec! In my excitement, I decided to be silly and dance an old 80's number I know called "The running man", and could you guess what happened next...
Ill give you a moment...
Got it yet?
I ROLLED MY ANKLE!
Just a slight roll this time, no big deal now, but boy was it a big deal then. I stopped dancing, limped over to the bench, and joined drunken Donia. It hurt. I was scared. There was no dramatic "fall and swoop recovery" this time, thank God, but i thought id done damage. I walked it off, and we left soon after. Well, that walk home was no picnic. Uphill. Tipsy. 4 blocks. All the while making sure the drunk monkey with me didnt fall into the street. Yikes. I iced her up (the ankle, not Donia) and elevated for a while when we finally got home. The next day I was fine. Thank you Lord. If it happens again, Im just requesting a damn amputation.
This leads to a flashback Id like to post of the original ankle injury. Oh how easily I forget that dancing in bars, even on flat shes and by myself, can lead to such harm. Enjoy (again)...
**********************************************************
What I Did On My Summer Vacation... Current mood: indescribable
So, you know how I'm into go-go dancing, right?
Picture it: Saturday night, the outfits are hot, the drinks are flowing, the shoes are cute and so are the boys...
Wait, no no no, thats not it at all...
So we are going out for my friend Jara's birthday, good times with friends. Of course theres the art of pregaming, so we end up at Dirty Drunk Diehl's Dirty Drinking Palace and start the night off right. (Actually, he's wasted and none of us catch a buzz between his obnoxious antics and the lack of good liquor (tattoo = no good)). We finally decide where to go, get into the cars and buckle in for safety (of course) when taco bell arrives. As Diehl is smashing a surprise burrito into his jib (thats for you), we are calling 411 and trying to get directions to the lezzy bar the birthday girl has chosen (not that theres anything wrong with that). We arrive after a lovely conversation with the bouncer over the phone, pay the cheap ass cover and are all excited for a good night. Beverages are a-flowin and the music is a-pumpin. Lets see, from there there were a couple bathroom breaks, a couple shots, a couple drinks, and a couple smoke sessions out on the lenai (and yes, it was a lenai, as in GG, spitting image, uncanny). And then it goes to, well, shit. The convo was light, the ladies were wild, and the boys were prettier than Hef's 8 girlfriends. Im struttin my stuff, very Im-here-to-have-fun but not too Im-here-for-some-lady-lovin, when I start feelin the music. There I am, mindin my own business, bringing Sexyback, when low and behold, I find a stage. I must be up there, my little mind thinks, and there I go, in all my straight-girl-in-a-lesbian-bar-glory, dancin the night away.
Flash forward 18 seconds. Im on the floor. In the middle of the dance floor. In the middle of the bar. In the middles of the lezzies. Whats a self-respecting girl to do? I proceed to laugh, cutely giggling, attempting to crawl back onstage and continue my run, when, whats this? I have lost all use of my right ankle? In my scared and buzzed state I panic, and I break down. Thats right, I wanted to stay tough for my girl-loving girls, but I broke...I cried. All of a sudden a flock of lesbians come running and whisk me off the floor. It was like a scene from a B movie starring Jennifer Tilly and a no name girl trying to "find herself" through cunnilingus. Anyway, Im thrown into the getaway car weeping like a child fresh from the womb. I insist I am fine and well enought to move on to the next hot spot, but I am coerced by my friend Jess to visit the local hospital. I agree, and by agree I mean I cannot stop crying.
We are at the hospitral for 4 and a half hours. During this time we run into some lovely characters, like the nurses that steered us in the wrong direction and got us lost, followed by the spunky yet smart ass male nurse. Yes, I said male nurse, who thought his quick wit and mildly disrespectful remarks about how wasted I was might get him a date, if not with the pretty friend, then with the passed out, swollen, snot-covered, hysterically injured one. Once it was determined that I was not a shitty drunk mess, I was fed and Vicodin (fuck diamonds being a girls best friend) and was sent off to a farawawy land I call LaLa...
Before I know Im cracking back at the asshole whos putting on my aircast (for injuries that arent really injuries) and being wheeled to my brothers car (he'd been hanging with Toby Keith when I called him, what a guy). I arrived at home after some hot flashes and antics in the car (the pill was on an empty stomach, mind you), but not before almost being rushed back to the hospital with some close calls on the stairs.
I woke up in pain, puking, hungry, and feeling defeated. Who knew an innocent night on the lesbain town with my best friends would turn into me being laid up on my first vacation week in a year. Sad story. I am now reduced to laying on the couch, taking in too much TV even for me, only eating when someone decides to drop by and feed me, hopping like a bunny from room to room, suffering from sore pits from my crutches, riding in Mart Carts through Target like a woman in her 80s with osteoperosis, and showering while sitting on a plastic Ikea end table from my bedroom.
Stop by if you want this week, you know where Ill be...

**********************************************************
It snowed. Im sorry, no, it dusted. Barely, if thats possible. It barely dusted and people were all up in arms here. They were afraid to drive. Afraid to walk. There were accidents galore. They asked me if I was scared. I replied with a sly smirk (as if to say wuss) "No, Im from New England". They got it.
You know youre in Seattle when: Youre forced into coffee with your new coworkers cuz you dont want to look like the new weird girl bitch, so you go and they say is starbucks ok and you say yes and you go and you dont know what to order or how to order and you feel dumb and youd do anyhting at that moment for a Tank from Tim Hortons with milk, no sugar, and its so easy to order and drink and enjoy but instead you are forced to get a double triple nonfat nonwhip noncalorie nongood cup of coffe that costs almost 4 dollars and is smaller than the shots you did on saturday night. All for a little comeraderie. I miss Rhody :(
Ok thats that. My godfather is calling me, and Ive seen what he does to people who dont obey him!!!!!!
*Disclaimer: Donia is not a drunk. Do not let this blog make you think she is a functioning alcoholic who cant have fun sober. We all have our nights*

Dept. of Madness and Vengeance (DMV)

2008-01-26T09:42:00.000-08:00

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Now, the moment we've all been waiting for (especially the citizens of Seattle)...{drum rolllllll}...I WASHED MY HAIR! And not because my aunt called me a grease ball or because Jade said it bordered on gross or even because my dogs would no longer lay with me on the couch. It was just time. Time to let go of the grease and frizz. It took about a full 45 seconds for my hair to actually get wet once it hit the shower. Apparently water and oil dont mix, so the water just rolled off for a while. I think i heard the sound of Heavenly angels when the shampoo hit my scalp. And, if I didnt know better, when that conditioner was applied, Id swear my head shed a tear...
Needless to say, the stupid curls are back.
Last night was night 2 that Nash created a shitshow of a walk. First fumble Nash made: even after being walked through 3 separate patches of fresh grass, Nash proceeded to stop mid-stride and SHIT on the sidewalk. Not expecting this idiotic behavior, I had nothing to pick it up with. Luckily it was late and we just took off down the next block, sight unseen.
People are just crazy about these dogs though. We got comments like "Oooh, attack dogs" from a man at the crosswalk, to which we fake laugh and say "Yeah"...like weve never heard that before. The next one came from a man...at a red light...who rolled down his window to yell out "Hey, I like your dog!" (Note he only said "dog", singular. Nash was cowering in a corner because of a scary scary sewer cap). The last was a bit scarier, coming from a comment I heard in passing by a frightening/gothic homeless kid who said "...it makes me want to blow my fucking brains out. I rather be THAT DOG right now". I did not reply with a witty remark on how Nash must be cooler than he is, mainly because I didnt know if he had a gun on him to back up that whole suicide threat.
Quote of the week:
"My eyebrows need to be done soooooo bad. They are about to run away and start a carpet store"
~Donia
My mind was wandering and I had a random thought. If I got my eye shot out while playing paintball becasue I failed to wear my safety glasses, I would opt for the glass eye, of course. But the glass eye doesnt move naturally, so instead of freaking people out, I feel like I would want an eye patch. Not just a run-of-the-mill Captain Jack Sparrow pirate patch, but a skin colored patch. Why dont people wear these?! So much more inconspicuous than the black patch we see so often. I cant possibly be the first to think of this. (Sadly, though, I may be...)
So today has been a loooong day. Reason being? A little thing called the Washington Dept. of Licensing. How long did we sit there, you ask? 3 hours. 3 long smelly boring multicultural multilingual multitorturous hours. During this time we went to lunch and the bank and still had tons of time to sit there and wait. Just wait. Luckily, the last hour flew by because a bunch of people had jumped ship and lost patience, leaving their numbers on the floor and us in their dust. Dust we were very happy to be left in, for it let us get or WA licenses much quicker! Donia needed it for her car, I needed it for my new job. Her woman was really speedy, to the point, and pleasant. My guy was long haired, snaggle toothed, and had an obsession with discussing RI with me. ("You guys have Cianci. You guys have Family Guy. Did you see the episode where...?"). I finally broke away from the Rhody Trivia freak and made my way to the picture line. They let you smile if you want to, and when the pic is done they say "Please verify address and see if you like the picture". A choice!! I was excited! Til I realized, of course, that if I went to the screen and hated it Id have to say "WOW, Im uggggg-ly, can we run that back?" Also, I knew if I tried it over again once, having this power in my hands, Id do a full half hour photo shoot, critiquing everything! Therefore, when you see my geek pic, dont laugh, I just held my breath and said "Ok" to the first one. Fun fact though: I wore my Favre jersey in the pic. Til at least 2012 I will be reppin the Pack!
Then brought Walmart. Super Walmart. Nuff said...
Needless to say, tonight was a late blog. Get used to it, fans and readers (all 4 of you left), I will be writing at night starting Monday because of the job. If only someone paid me to blog...
Going out tonight. Gettin drunk because A.) its been a while B.) I wanna and C.) It does a body good. We are walking the 4 blocks so there will be no D+D for us. Hope to God I dont fall on my face, fall on my ass, twist my ankle, or tumble into the street. (Oh, come on now ma! Only one of those has ever happened! )
Happy Weekend. Drink, drink, and be merry!

Empty bladder, write blog...

2008-01-25T09:42:00.000-08:00

Friday, January 25, 2008

God, Im so NERVOUS today! I have been hearing a lot of hype about these blogs lately. Theyre talked about on the streets (of Coventry), around the water cooler (at the SHOP), and even in IM's (when I bring up the topic, of course)! I dont know how much material I can come up with every day for this. Im gonna start carrying a mini notebook and looking at things very differently from now on...all as possible funny material!
Take yesterday, for instance. All I did was watch TV, eat dinner, pee a bunch of times, and walk downtown. Supermarkets=not funny. Homeless people= not funny. That guy that hit a pothole with his bike and went flying off into the street=shouldnt be funny...BUT WAS! He was ok, some good samaritans jumped in to save him from oncoming cars. Whew. Oh, and I should report the bike was bent and unrideable, but still breathing.
So, as you can see, theres not much going on to talk about. This is why I am calling all the readers (yes,all half dozen of you) to send me topics that may be plagueing your mind. I can give my expertise, mediocre knowledge, or just witty and useless banter on the subjects. Obviously, I need help here. My writers are on strike and this is hard by myself!
Vegas was burning today, the Monte Carlo, that is. Just the roof, just a section, not so bad. Except for THE BRIDE they showed being evacuated...in her wedding dress! Poor dear. Must have been that moment when they say, "If anyone disagrees with this marriage, speak now, or forever hold your...FIRE!!!!" Some ex of the groom making sure she still has a chance to win him back. Nothing says love like a little lighter fluid and a book of matches from a strip joint.(and I know---from EXPERIENCE! )
I told my mom this already but Ill tell you. Some woman gets super-wasted, kills a man while driving, does a phone interview with a bigot reporter, he says awful things congratulating her on killing a "french man/gay guy", she giggles...and BAM! Cops hear her on the recorded message and slap an extra 10 years onto her sentence. HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAAH...bitch.
*Now please stay tuned following this commercial break...*
LOST next Thursday. Not sure what time, prob 9, maybe 8. Check your local listings yourself.
Ok, were back with a dream I had. There were many, a church one, a work one, but this one involved me getting plastic surgery. On my feet. To make em smaller. Yeah, what a waste of surgery. Everyone was lookin at em like "oooh" and then one person commented "well theyre a tiny bit smaller, but not much". I would have kicked her, but the stitches still ached. Let me tell you, if i did have plastic surgery, it would not be on my FEET!
*Now a PSA (public service announcement, duh!)*
Make sure you vote this year. This really is a huge year for voters. Theyre saying one of the hugest elections in a loooooong time, since Abe Linc said no to slaves and FDR...well, Im not good with history. Anyway, I would like you to vote DEMOCRATIC, ah-em, but make your own choice (DEMOCRATIC). I really cant decide who Ill want if it comes down to Obama or Clinton. I will be watching intently, which you should do, too. You should talk about the candidates (but not more than you talk about my blog. And dont let anyone interrupt blog-talk with election talk, either. We have priorities, here). Our current president (whos a Republican, btw, not a DEMOCRAT) has f'ed this country up something good, and we need a fix. A fix of good old fashioned DEMOCRACY. Who better to bring that than a DEMOCRAT? Isnt it great we all have the freedom to vote as we please! (voteDEMOCRATorIdisownyouall).
**Brought to you by DEMOCRATS voting for DEMOCRATS and only DEMOCRATS.**
Hair update: Day 6 has brought a delightful "mohawk" to my head. I woke up, tried to tame my hair back down, and in doing so realized that this day brought the ability to move my hair and have it STAY where I put it! No styling products or hair spray needed! Not sure if thats a good thing, now that ive written it. Kinda sorry i did. Moving on...
So I mentioned i went walking downtown last night. We stopped at this little place called Cafe Septieme, which means something in some language, I dont really know. Anyway, it looked fancy, but they had dessert, so we were in! We were sat and looking for a dessert menu, but it was nowhere to be found on the dinner menu. When we asked our sweetie pie of a waiter if they had one he said, "Oh, no, you kinda have to just go stand at the display and look". Which means you might as well scream "Look, Im a fattie,and Im having dessert!" Torturous, but we complied. He followed us over (so sweet) and described every dessert. (He knows how to work a tip, let me tell you). We decided on our desserts and moments later were enjoying them, as, might I add, we enjoyed a glass of wine and a lovely musician playing some sort of synthesizer from the mid to late 80's. Yes, he played Flashdance, it was only fitting. I enjoyed it greatly, thinking back to the days when we'd steal Pappy's keyboard and play around with that, before the scary man, may he rest in peace, love you Pappy, yelled at us and ripped it away cuz of the "racket" (how do you spell racket when it refers to noise, anyway?) Donia, not so much enjoyment there. Didnt have keyboard days. Thought it was weird. "It sounds like drums and a horn. And he smells like pee." "Those are the special buttons!" I exclaimed (I, again, ignored the pee comment). Clearly, she gave me a strange look, and we moved onto the next topic. The waiter really was great, and had we had crew cuts and penises, he may even have hit on us! Wait, maybe he was straight, but just grossed out by my hair. Didnt think of that...So that was the highlight of the night, and i wont even tell you how much this late night dessert run cost us (good thing I got a job!). Thats how you can tell a city from a good ole hometown: in Rhody we would have run to Cumbys and grabbed a little Debbie. In Seattle, we walk 12 blocks and have to decide which bills not to pay that month just to get some cake.
Another fun thing in Seattle is the S.L.U.T. Whoa, hold on there, this is a family blog! No no, calm down, Im referring to what the stupidest "creative" executive board in the world has created in Seattle. A streetcar. Not a trolley, not a bus, not a Subway. A pretty shiny streetcar. Like a tram from Six Flags, but enclosed. What did they name this multimillion dollar project for all to see and ride? Thats right, the South Lake Union Tram. SLUT. Everyone calls it the SLUT here. Its a big joke. And the sad thing is I dont think it was meant to be a joke! They now want to build a walking area all around the SLUT. Know what theyve proposed for a name? Either South Lake Union Trail (baby SLUT) or Community Union North Trail. Ill leave that one for you to figure out. This is a family blog, after all. How did they not see that nickanme coming? Funny stat, though, wehn the SLUT was free, she had 78,000 riders in the first month. Now that you have to pay: 21,000 riders a month. See girls, anyone will ride a SLUT for free.
As I forge ahead into my weekend, and I know this blog is already some long, boring run-on sentence with the excitement of a postage stamp, I leave you with happiness and love and candy and munchkins (God i miss munchkins).
xo
P.S. In no way was I making fun of Pappy. We love him still. :)

Wipe your feet, and leave your ignorance at the door...

2008-01-24T09:41:00.000-08:00

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Hair update: This, the 5th day since I did my hair, was almost my breaking point. The hair is really not as "manageable" as Id hoped for. I did get out my straightener though and used the "natural oils" in my hair as a straightening agent. Its, well, straight. I wouldnt classify it as "gross" yet, but im sure some would (my mother sometimes showers twice a day, you couldnt pay her enough to do what Im doing). Donia said that it "Smelled like pee". I dont take this assessment very seriously though because she thinks everything smells like pee. Anyway, Its getting close and I feel I will finally wet my head on Saturday before going out, you know, for everyone elses sake.
Ive been following the Heath Ledger story a lot these last couple days. There are so many more sad things here than just his death. That may sound strange and harsh, but this world is a scary and unjust place. My first gripe is with the photographers and cameras all over the places he was, and where his loved ones are now. Yes, I would not have my updates if I didnt see these pics, but I look at them and I am mad at myself for it. Theyll do anyhting to try to get the ex-gf and child on camera, which they have not been very successful in doing yet, but they are staked out in front of every place they might go just to get a shot...at what? Shell be crying, shell look sad, she wont give you a comment. In the videos you can hear people screaming to them "leave them alone!". But they dont. Some things should be kept sacred, but not even the death of someones son, brother, bf, father is sacred anymore. They should be left to grieve on their own.
My second gripe, for lack of a harsher word not yet in my vocabulary, is with these people that have been COMING OUT AND SAYING THEYRE GLAD HES DEAD BECAUSE OF BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN AND HIS INVOLVEMENT! They are mocking and ridiculing his death, publicly! A newsreporter from Fox News said on the air that he was a bad person and pretty much said, in not so many words, that hes better off. Another person who made a public statement was none other than THe Ultimate Warrior. Of WWF fame. He said that it was good he died becasue now his daughter does not have that bad influence in her life. Just disgusting.
Heres what I dont get, and we could debate this for days and still never get to say everything: These people are self proclaimed "Christians". They believe in God. The same God I and my family and friends and this country believes in. They read the Bible? Probably. Then why cant they see that the Bible says to love everyone. Not "everyone who you agree with" but everyone. The Bible also says we are not to judge, but God is to be the judge we answer to. Yes it says not to drink, to hurt your body, to have sex before marriage, all 10 commandments, and yes, if we are staying on topic, that man should be with woman. But does it say to persecute and hate and kill and wish ill to those who do commit these things? No. And it especially does not say to celebrate the death of someone who hurt no one, but just had different beliefs than you. Newsman, Ult War., all others who have this opinion: you are free to have it, but dont forget, you are just a human. You are no closer to God than anyone else. You are a man. You sin. You will be judged. Its just awful that these men have influence over others and can spread this hate to so many. I believe that if you believe in God you should preach his name to those you love, to those willing to listen, but that doesnt mean you will have the power to make them believe as you. You do your part, but everyone is left to believe as they wish.
I did not see that coming when they announced his death. Who could be so hateful and cruel. Not Gods children.
A man on Ellen today, a doctor that wrote a book about being and living by love and not hate, said that the Native Americans had a saying: "No tree has branches so foolish as to fight amongst themselves..." Youll recognize it as my new quote. Just think about it. We were not put here to fight each other and hate. We were put here to do good for everyone else and ourselves. We are all the same. Same feelings, same organs, same things kill us as keep us alive. Yet we all feel more worthy or more deserving of things, we all want money and power and recognition and to be right and to prove our point and no one stops to see what we all have in common. Lots Im sure, if we just looked.
Sorry this blog is such a downer, its meant to actually uplift. I watched the movie A Mighty Heart today and it inspired me, along with my sadness at the comments of these rightous religious groups, to say what I felt on equality and love. I hope that some people think about it and maybe see where they could make a difference in their lives. I try to do it as much as possible.
Hopping down off my soap box now. Hope I dont injure my ankle again...
Disregard this if it angers you or makes you upset. You have the choice to read it or not. It is not meant to offend, or preach, in any way. I guess this is just what they call "blogging".
For more info on those comments made by the men mentioned, go to PerezHilton.com. Yes, he does celebrity gossip, but he is not using any photos of the familys of Heath Ledger. Ther is also info for those who would like to tell Fox News how inappropriate it was to let such commnets on the air. Then again, freedom of speech goes both ways, I guess. Use your power for good

30 seconds from vomiting

2008-01-23T09:41:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

My blog today, much like myself, will be very bleh. This is a term I like to use when things are just feeling and looking gross. Like I feel bleh because I drank a crapload last night, and looking bleh because, well, we all read about my hair. So, Im just bleh today, and my blog will reflect that.
Other bleh things: Ive been getting a ton (a few) comments from people saying they miss me, they wish Seattle was closer, wish Id visit, etc. I reallllly want to!!! Its really a lot of fun over here and Im experiencing a new place and new people (not friends, just people), but I do wish I was like a 5 hour car ride away rather than a week away, or an expensive plane ride. I am starting a new job monday and Im hoping Ill be able to be back this spring or summer. There are so many people that I just miss seeing all the time, it doesnt hit you til youre gone...
Poor Heath Ledger, that was really awful. Of course i didnt know him or anything, but I really felt sad. Almost my age, wayyy too young to die.
Lets see, in other news my vaca is almost over and ill be back with you working people next week. Blogs should be wayyyy more interesting then!!
Sorry.
Bleh.

Following the Example of Miss Spears...

2008-01-22T09:40:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

No, Im not going crazy. No, I dont have cameras following me everywhere (geez, maybe they could be my friends!). Everytime I see Britney (every day on TMZ.com) I notice her hair is just, well, greasy and gross. Despite that, its so manageable!! She can just throw it up in an elastic and it looks cute. SO, Ive decided I wanna see if I can do it too. NO, I dont have extensions like she does, but last Saturday I straightened and then crimped (yes, Punky, I said crimped) my hair. It was strictly out of pure boredom, but seeing as I put an hour of my time into it, I felt I should see how long it lasts...Its now Tuesday, and I havent washed my hair yet. Im trying to go til next Monday, but if I go out Saturday night, I may give it up then. Either way, a week without washing should be pretty close to Brit's rats nest, no?
*This is why I have no friends*
I just wanted to give a quick thank you to everyone but DJ(!) for not bothering me and/or busting my balls about football. Sunday night I couldnt sleep all night because I was so upset about the game. It still hurts. That is all I have on this topic.
So my dog Nash is NOT, I repeat NOT a city dog. Gus is pretty versatile, stick him in a yard or on a leash in the middle of downtown and hes happy. Well, Nash is so skiddish its hard to have a successful walk anywhere! Here are the things hes afraid of/stops walking because of/jumps and drags himself for:
*People walking by
*Other animals walking by
*loud noises, i.e. buses and cars with bad mufflers
*metal grates in the ground
*cross walks
*doors to stores opening and closing
*skateboarders
Ok, now picture all of these things and trying to avoid them in the city. Our walk the other night ended with me carrying Nash and Donia carrying Gus in our jackets all the way home. Like the chihuahuas they truly are, they liked being cuddled in our shirts and just looking around much better! Wasted perfectly good money on leashes I guess...
This brought an idea to mind...Donia called it a CHIcocoon. I could sew a little carrier for the doggies that we can swaddle around ourselves much like those super hippie baby carriers you see! Hmmmm....ching ching!
It may also seem like a good idea to make your own corn tortilla chips. Its not. They taste like unsalted floor tiles, and will break your teeth just as easily. Buy the bag...( this is actually a message meant to head straight for Donia's eyes...)
LOST is 2 weeks away! To all my fellow LOST fans, its gonna be good. There will definitely be a section of my blog for LOST thoughts and feelings, coming soon...
I have lots of bead dreams. Many of you know this, but if you dont, now you do. Bad. Very gross and disturbing and bad. Its been like that forever, so Im not so much worried as curious about them. Always being kidnapped, as I said before. Last night there were snakes, but that was nothing. Heres an example of what I see in my (f'ed up?) head:
I was in a car accident apparently (didnt see that part) and had awful deep cuts and stitches all over my back and chest and stomach. I had to go to the hospital to get the bandages changed every couple days. They said theyd have to cut into the wounds to get the stitches out and redo them every time, so I could either have a shot of lidocaine (for numbing) or just do it natural. I said definitely the shot, but then they said nevermind, I had to just have it done without. So they sat me on a table and put my head over a sink cuz they said the pain would probably make me puke. I was so scared! They started peeling the bandages off and cutting the stitches. It was awful. Then when they were done I told them I still hadnt seen the wounds yet, and the woman warned me that it would be horrifying and it would take time for me to even get used to seeing it. I didnt look...
Bleh, f'in gross, right. Every morning I wake up to these things. In life I got the good hair, but the bad dreams. Fair trade? You tell me.
Good luck to Amy Winehouse who has checked herself into rehab. Why do crackheads make such good music?
Dont forget A.I. tonight...
~Sweet nightmares (theyre probably better than my best dreams)~

Not ready

2008-01-21T09:39:00.000-08:00

Monday, January 21, 2008

No blog. Still in mourning.

Cheerio!

2008-01-20T09:39:00.000-08:00

Sunday, January 20, 2008

* Please excuse the absence of the Saturday blog. Its my day of rest. And by rest I mean resting my face in a bottle of vodka*
I want my kids to be born British. No I dont necessarily want an English father for them, I want them to have English accents at birth. I want their first word not to be "mama" but "mummy". Im so excited about this idea that Im not sure if Ill love them as much without this feature...
I missed the lovers' on floor 5's 10 am sexcapade yesterday. Obviously, Donia didnt...
I wanted to go out last night, but moneys a bit tight right now, so instead we shut off all the lights but one and pretended we were in a nightclub. It was a great time, the dance floor wasnt too packed and the drinks were free...we need a name for it, I was tossing around either "Losers" or "Devoid of Friends Because We Pretend We Have Our Own Nightclub".
The Pats are playing the Chargers as we speak. Which brings me to this prayer to our Dear Lord, a Packer fan ( He told me so):
Dear God,
Please let the Chargers upset the Pats. My team has a very small chance of beating the Pats, and you know Favre has been waiting for a Superbowl ring before he retires. I know youre getting a lot of these prayers lately, but the Packers deserve this. Also, please let one or more Giants freeze today and not be able to play the game. No death, just some severe frost bite or hypothermia will do.
Also, bless those I love, except Tom Brady and Eli Manning (Payton is fine).
Sincerely,
Leah Watson
GOPACKGO
In 1 hour I will be nauseaus til the game is over...
***********************************************************
In lieu of comments, please send money...

Would the real women please stand up...

2008-01-18T09:38:00.000-08:00

Friday, January 18, 2008

On the Tyra Banks show today, she is interviewing Hilary Clinton. (Well Hilary, dont worry, weve all wasted an hour of our lives here and there.) Anyway, a man at one of her rallies held up a sign reading "Iron My Shirt". What is wrong with men? Dont think this is going to be some crazy man-hating rant, but seriously dude? Really? Come on now!! If you have a woman at home that irons your shirt because you tell her to, then shame on her. Doing nice things for people you love is great; doing things cuz its your job (as a woman) is pathetic. Its so dated, its so 50 years ago. Stand up for yourselves women. If you dont, theres no one to blame but yourself. In this day and age, this man should have been laughed out of the room.
This blog is gonna be short and sweet. Nothing great happened in the last 24 hours, so I have not much to write.
Visited Applebees last night. Spent lots. Hey, at least I have a job now!
TGIF. No plans for this weekend yet, Ill keep you posted. Tonight Im having turkey, which is great. Highlight of my day I guess. Cant wait til I am doing something with my life.
Went for a great walk last night. Its a 30 minute walk to my new job. Can you say Built-In Exercise!!
This water thing is making me pee clear 10 times a day.
Gotta whiz...now!

Gettin it on, 5th floor style (we live on the 4th)

2008-01-17T09:38:00.000-08:00

Thursday, January 17, 2008

1 glass down, 9 to go!!! Try drinking 10 glasses of water a day! Then they tell you 4 glasses of fat free milk for good calcium and protein. Where am I supposed to fit in the booze?!
A.I. night 2: As entertaining as night 1. More hopefuls. I just cant remember anyone Ive seen so far, so Im waiting for the real action to start in a few weeks. Give me names, weight loss, and makeovers and Im there!!
My friends are growing! No theyre not getting fatter. No, Im not making friends here in Seattle. My Myspace friends have gone from 109 to 122 since Ive been out of work! Most of them arent even real people, though, just night clubs and L WORD fan sites.
BTW, Did you watch it yet?
Im visiting Applebees tonight. Hopefully see some people I know and have a drink or two. Excited:)
I always have dreams Im being kidnapped, or have been kidnapped, or am being held hostage and am trying to stage a way to get free. Last night was another bad one, but guess who saved me? DONIA! Way to go! She always complains I never dream about her. Well, there you go, my hero:)
My mother got a cat. Ever since I was little my face would blow up and my nose wouldnt stop running for days if Id even SEEN a cat. And now she has one. Jinxy. Bleh. Jinxy has taken my place at home. The second the asthmatic allergy-stricken one leaves, BAM! A cat moves in. Stupid jinxy. Hope you like dogs and birds and reptiles.
ANd now something funny. None of the rest has been. Right above our bed there is a couple who has loud sex. About 3 times a week (average?). Not loud sex like yelling or anyhting, loud like they NEED A NEW FUCKING BED! It squeaks like crazy! We lay there and giggle at their hetero escapades. We try to figure out how theyre doing it. Donia asked if I thought it was consentual! It wasnt rape, I replied. She meant if the woman was really into it or not. I said I dont know, lets listen...So we did, and the rhythm seemed to be pretty strong, but then it slowed, then sped up again, then the really fast part, then...done. Silence. They have been keeping us up for that passionate 5 minutes of theirs for about 3 weeks now, on and off. Weekends are really popular for them, and the loudest. Last night Donia had fallen asleep, but I got the pleasure (bleh!) of hearing it, but it was weak. Oh well, better luck in a couple days, dude...

13 Days Away

2008-01-16T09:37:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

So Im sitting here on my green couch, as I have for the last month and a half, and it hits me: Why am I not blogging!? Probably because, No.1, I hate the term "blogging". It sounds like a British term for sex. Dirty Gross Bad-Teeth British Sex. No. 2, I never thought of it before because my life just seems so boring here at home in the world of unemployment. I guess I could find a few things, though, that may amuse the 2 to 3 readers I might get. For the next 2 weeks I will be writing, hopefully every day, and filling you poor souls with nothing better to do in on my life.
Fun Fact About Me: I have only worked 9 out of the last 15 months, due to injuries, relocation, and not being able to stand my new Prick of a boss.
I watch TV. Too much I guess you could say. Ellen is my very favorite though. Shes a great woman. Thats all. Watch her.
I bought my first pair of men's jeans yesterday from Old Navy. No worries, Im not shaving my head or getting "the operation" or anything. Theyre big, comfy, but cute. And now, on to cute belts...
L WORD! If you dont watch it, you should. You need to go to the video store and rent seasons 1-4, then start watching 5 Now!! Warning though, its not for the faint of heart. Maybe you should ease into it with some YouTube clips before you jump into an episode. But my God, what a good show!!!
The Green Bay Fucking Packers are going to the Superbowl!!! I just know it, Favre wouldnt lose it at this point. A game against the Giants, yes, even the Cowboy-beating Giants, will be tough, but we got it. 10 years Ive followed them, and now Im here across the country and I have no one to watch it with (no one that loves em like me). I cant wait!! Im going to a bar, Im wearing my jersey, gettin tipsy on Blue Moon, and cheering them on!!!
I also got new boots yesterday. Cute ones, really good Seattle boots. Not goloshes, though. Dont worry:)
A.I. last night was fun. Im so happy its back on. Last year was the first season I watched all the way through. There were some talented guys last night, but the girls really took it. Cant wait for tonight!!
I also started watching biggest loser this year for the first time, but now A.I. is on on the same night!!! I hate doing the whole flip back and forth thing...
so today ahs consisted of waking up late cuz Donia took the bus to work (yeah!), watching Ellen, enjoying Days, eating buffalo chx (ob-sessed!) and deciding to write. The dogs are sitting next me, sleeping, and they are dreaming. Ever seen a dog dream? Nash's mouth moves, he growls and whimpers, and his eyes even open. Funny, Ill try to get it on film. Anyway, the rest of the day brings picking Donia up at 5 and then some dinner, a walk maybe, and A.I.--night 2!!!
My New Years Resolution was to drink 80 oz. of water a day. So far Im doing mediocre, but every day is a new chance to start over.
I have been trying to sew with my new Christmas sewing machine but boy is it hard to read a pattern!! I wanted to make cute little shirt dresses and vests, but its tough! I got this idea to make little stylish fanny packs a while ago though, and I think that may be my next endeavor. They will all have a signature red lining in them. You can wear them out for a run, or to the bar for your essentials. Ill post a pic after the first ones done.
I miss my friends and family.
Til tomorrow...

When the tub is no longer sacred

2006-11-05T09:36:00.000-08:00

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Let's just talk about what it's like to take a bath with a full leg cast, shall we?
Picture those sitcoms and movies: the tub scene. Relaxing, romantic, sexy, candles lit, a glass of wine, bubbles covering those hot spots they can only show on HBO. Now forget all that and journey with me into the reality of bathing. Handicapped.
Until your mother is wrapping your leg with a 40-gallon garbage bag and duct tape, you dont know what it is to lose your dignity. After 6 days of not showering (thats right, a full 6), my mother decided I should probably try to wash up a little. I, on the other hand, started to have thoughts like "Maybe Im not capable of body odor" and " I really could make it on survivor, this isnt so bad". I finally conceded and crutched my way to the bathroom. She told me to run the water, get in while it was filling to avoid slipping in accidentally, and to not lock the door in case I needed to be rescued. (honestly, at that point, just let me go to be with the Lord, for everyones sake). Getting into the tub like that is like the opposite of getting into a cold swimming pool. Instead of lowering yourself in slowly and warming up, you are freezing until it fills completely!! Anyway, it all seemed fine and good looking at the tub, but once I was in it and alone, it was another story completely. She has fancy shmancy jacuzzi tub, so it is as deep as the kiddie end at the Y pool, and the jets sound good until they are shooting you and you are offended because of where they are going! I decide the best position would be sideways, so that i could keep my body under water while my left leg could stay straight up in the air (hot). Now, let me just let you in on a little secret: you are not so hot when you have contorted your body in such a way as to keep your leg flying high and the rest of you sideways in a tub!! You see parts of your body youve never seen; and even when you did picture them, you thought theyd be way cuter. Well, theyre not. So now youre feeling like you not only need to get over your surgery, but you would like to go back under the knife for some lypo and a lift. This tub was not at all making me feel better.
I did everyhting in my power to wash, shave, scrub, and exfoliate in record time so that I could remove myself from that awful porceline hellhole and put some damn clothes on!! My advice is if you ever get hurt, God forbid, keep the deodorant nearby and just keep a big sweatshirt on to mask the odor. Your hair, if not seen by you in a mirror, cannot look that bad. And your family loves you and would never judge or mock you (to your face).
Optimistic part of the whole ordeal---I only had to shave one leg. :)

Food=Friend

2006-10-17T09:36:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

As you may have heard, Ive been without food for the last ten days. I was detoxing, using the Master Cleanse, and what a detox it was. The first few days sucked, but then it was smooth sailing. I was really torn over whether or not to go on or just stop at day 10. Because of certain circumstances, my surgery and FOOD in general, I will be ending it on Thursday. Ive never wanted to eat so bad in my life. Im glad I did it, though, and if anyone else would like to try it just ask me, Ill give you all the gory details.

Happy cleansing

...and the vacation lives on

2006-10-16T09:35:00.000-07:00

Monday, October 16, 2006

So you know how I like to collect money from the government, right?

And so it goes, Im still out of work. I was teetering on the completion of "Dancing Ankle Injury 2006" when, whats this, doctor? A tear in my what? Why are you drawing a diagram on my ankle? Its fine!! Im fine! oh, im not...surgery...oh, ok, didnt see that coming. Great, let me just call work...

Great fucking day
Visit soon

Believe It

2006-09-28T09:34:00.000-07:00

Thursday, September 28, 2006

The Best Revenge Is Living Well...

*sinister laugh*

Get it outttttttt

2006-09-17T09:32:00.000-07:00

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Do it all
Do what you always wanted
Do as you please
Do what I never let you
Do what our life didnt allow
Do what makes you happy
Do what makes me sick...

Taken away
Taken from
Taken in
Taken back
Taken to a place
Taken for a ride
Taken for granted

Im gonna go on without you
Im gonna be happy without you
Im gonna smile without you
Im gonna be real without you
Im gonna cry without you
Im gonna find love without you
Im gonna be good without you
Im gonna be bad without you
Im gonna be mad without you
Im gonna be true without you
Im gonna be a friend without you
Im gonna be great without you
Im gonna move on without you...

AAAAAAUUUGGGHHHH, Im So fucking Bored!

2006-09-06T09:32:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

The subject pretty much says it all. Im stuck here in my house because, of all the feet I have, i had to injure the RIGHT one, the driving one for you slow learners, and I cant go ANYWHERE!! I have filled out 3 surveys today alone!!! Please please please if anyone is bored or has anything they need done that doesnt require two feet, please feel free to drop by. The backdoor is open.
haha

For My Cousin, Jon...

2006-08-31T09:31:00.000-07:00

Thursday, August 31, 2006

From March 17, 2005

I sleep, and you are there.

In life we never crossed
As children, running and playing
Dreaming now a new world
Friendship and love
You are always there with me
How would I know
Took advantage of Earth time
Not always enough for everyone to share

In an altered state of mind
We meet
You teach me til I awake
Its not real then
Or is it?

See you in my dreams

What I Did On My Summer Vacation...

2006-08-21T09:30:00.000-07:00

Monday, August 21, 2006

So, you know how I'm into go-go dancing, right?
Picture it: Saturday night, the outfits are hot, the drinks are flowing, the shoes are cute and so are the boys...
Wait, no no no, thats not it at all...
So we are going out for my friend Jara's birthday, good times with friends. Of course theres the art of pregaming, so we end up at Dirty Drunk Diehl's Dirty Drinking Palace and start the night off right. (Actually, he's wasted and none of us catch a buzz between his obnoxious antics and the lack of good liquor (tattoo = no good)). We finally decide where to go, get into the cars and buckle in for safety (of course) when taco bell arrives. As Diehl is smashing a surprise burrito into his jib (thats for you), we are calling 411 and trying to get directions to the lezzy bar the birthday girl has chosen (not that theres anything wrong with that). We arrive after a lovely conversation with the bouncer over the phone, pay the cheap ass cover and are all excited for a good night. Beverages are a-flowin and the music is a-pumpin. Lets see, from there there were a couple bathroom breaks, a couple shots, a couple drinks, and a couple smoke sessions out on the lenai (and yes, it was a lenai, as in GG, spitting image, uncanny). And then it goes to, well, shit. The convo was light, the ladies were wild, and the boys were prettier than Hef's 8 girlfriends. Im struttin my stuff, very Im-here-to-have-fun but not too Im-here-for-some-lady-lovin, when I start feelin the music. There I am, mindin my own business, bringing Sexyback, when low and behold, I find a stage. I must be up there, my little mind thinks, and there I go, in all my straight-girl-in-a-lesbian-bar-glory, dancin the night away.
Flash forward 18 seconds. Im on the floor. In the middle of the dance floor. In the middle of the bar. In the middles of the lezzies. Whats a self-respecting girl to do? I proceed to laugh, cutely giggling, attempting to crawl back onstage and continue my run, when, whats this? I have lost all use of my right ankle? In my scared and buzzed state I panic, and I break down. Thats right, I wanted to stay tough for my girl-loving girls, but I broke...I cried. All of a sudden a flock of lesbians come running and whisk me off the floor. It was like a scene from a B movie starring Jennifer Tilly and a no name girl trying to "find herself" through cunnilingus. Anyway, Im thrown into the getaway car weeping like a child fresh from the womb. I insist I am fine and well enought to move on to the next hot spot, but I am coerced by my friend Jess to visit the local hospital. I agree, and by agree I mean I cannot stop crying.
We are at the hospitral for 4 and a half hours. During this time we run into some lovely characters, like the nurses that steered us in the wrong direction and got us lost, followed by the spunky yet smart ass male nurse. Yes, I said male nurse, who thought his quick wit and mildly disrespectful remarks about how wasted I was might get him a date, if not with the pretty friend, then with the passed out, swollen, snot-covered, hysterically injured one. Once it was determined that I was not a shitty drunk mess, I was fed and Vicodin (fuck diamonds being a girls best friend) and was sent off to a farawawy land I call LaLa...
Before I know Im cracking back at the asshole whos putting on my aircast (for injuries that arent really injuries) and being wheeled to my brothers car (he'd been hanging with Toby Keith when I called him, what a guy). I arrived at home after some hot flashes and antics in the car (the pill was on an empty stomach, mind you), but not before almost being rushed back to the hospital with some close calls on the stairs.
I woke up in pain, puking, hungry, and feeling defeated. Who knew an innocent night on the lesbain town with my best friends would turn into me being laid up on my first vacation week in a year. Sad story. I am now reduced to laying on the couch, taking in too much TV even for me, only eating when someone decides to drop by and feed me, hopping like a bunny from room to room, suffering from sore pits from my crutches, riding in Mart Carts through Target like a woman in her 80s with osteoperosis, and showering while sitting on a plastic Ikea end table from my bedroom.
Stop by if you want this week, you know where Ill be...

White Oleander

2006-06-07T09:29:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

"The fear of heights is the fear of self; you never know if you're going to jump..."

Futures Have a Way of Falling Down Midflight

2006-06-03T09:29:00.000-07:00

Saturday, June 03, 2006

8 years died today

80 more were born

Crumbling

2006-05-26T09:28:00.000-07:00

Friday, May 26, 2006

i cant take this fucking life anymore. im on a constant rollercoaster, by no fault but my own. i cant do this. who does this. i need a way out and their are none left. none

"The Safety Circle"

2006-05-11T09:27:00.000-07:00

Thursday, May 11, 2006

My apartment will now be known as the "Safety Circle", and in the "Safety Circle", we dont judge...

My Superbowl 40 Experience

2006-02-05T09:26:00.000-08:00

Sunday, February 05, 2006

So it looked like quite a lovely night in Detroit tonight. The lights were gleaming in the arena, the players were greased and ready to go. I was not overly hyped to partake in the viewing of tonights game, but i just kept hearing "...but its the SUPERBOWL!" coming from an excited yet annoying voice on the couch next to me. Well, at around 7:15, I decided to take a little "rest", and the next thing I knew, I woke up to a black-and-yellow confetti-filled screen. Very surprising to me, I have to say. Even more strange is that I had a half-awake-half-asleep dream about Bettis, which is frightening in itself. I guess the moral of my pointless story is that I have five Superbowl squares and have no idea if I won money, I said the Seahawks would win and they didnt, and i guess i have pissed off a bunch of people who had to work today and missed the game. Oh well, I hear it was a good one.

Millers N E 1?

2006-01-19T09:24:00.000-08:00

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Im gonna be so upset in the morning...
f
f
f
f
f
f
ucked
up
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p
p
p
p
p
........
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Fantastic

2005-11-15T09:24:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

i hurt myself today to see if i still feel i focus on the pain the only thing that's real the needle tears a hole the old familiar sting try to kill it all away but i remember everything what have i become? my sweetest friend everyone i know goes away in the end you could have it all my empire of dirt i will let you down i will make you hurt i wear my crown of shit on my liar's chair full of broken thoughts i cannot repair beneath the stain of time the feeling disappears you are someone else i am still right here what have i become? my sweetest friend everyone i know goes away in the end you could have it all my empire of dirt i will let you down i will make you hurt if i could start again a million miles away i would keep myself i would find a way

This is a fairy tale we should be reading to little girls

2005-10-04T09:18:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Once upon a
time,
in a land far away,
a beautiful, independent,
self-assured princess
happened upon a frog as she sat,
contemplating ecological issues
on the shores of an unpolluted pond
in a verdant meadow near her castle.
The frog hopped into the princess' lap
and said: Elegant Lady,
I was once a handsome prince,
until an evil witch cast a spell upon me.
One kiss from you, however,
and I will turn back
into the dapper, young prince that I am
and then, my sweet, we can marry
and set up housekeeping in your castle
with my mother,
where you can prepare my meals,
clean my clothes, bear my children,
and forever
feel grateful and happy doing so.
That night,
as the princess dined sumptuously
on lightly sautéed frog legs
seasoned in a white wine
and onion cream sauce,
she chuckled and thought to herself:
I don't fucking think so.