Thursday, October 19, 2006

grrr

phil.........im seriously considering a hyundai

weird al...

gotta lovem...


Posted By:Weird Al Yankovic

Get this video and more at MySpace.com

rrrrgggggghhhh

so, this is why i am moving from modesto.......

i went to sleep late one night and woke to find the left tires of my car missing.

missing.

not just the tires. oh no. the rims as well.

who does that?

at least they were kind enough to prop my little honda on bricks. bastards. (rant rant, rave, rave)

New Music

Asobi Seksu.....fantastic

no sleep

Last night I had what I believe to be the most disturbing dream I have ever experienced. Disturbing in the “did I dream that or am I waking up drenching wet in a bomb shelter bleeding from various body parts” kind of way. Let me explain:

Everyday at work I listen to NPR. Every evening when I cook dinner, clean, etc., I listen to NPR. Apparently my brain thought it fitting to create a scenario of the U.S. under fire, mass hysteria, and gruesome death. This dream was so real I could smell sulfur, my own sweat and something that resembled the smell of aged book pages.

On with the dream:

I was shopping in my local grocery store, buying soymilk for myself, and Straus Family Farms milk in a thick glass bottle for the b.f. I followed common procedure, checking dates and so forth. Anyhow, a couple comes along, discussing what type of milk would best suit their abandoned bunny rabbit. Bizarre. Another person strolls by, baby on back. She was in a rush. The dream continued in real-time. I people watched, drank a soda, and read the covers of Time and Modern Bride as I stood in line. Just as the groceries spilled from my overloaded arms, a sound so out of the ordinary forced my attention from silk bustiers and yards of peau de soie. Obvious questions like, where is that coming from? Is it a fire alarm? Did someone open the emergency exit door? These questions where answered by flashes of hideous red light bursting through the tinted grocery store windows.

We were being attacked.

The alarm carried on like a roller coaster without an end in sight. I could literally feel my stomach rise and fall with every high and low. Panic. Cars collided, babies cried. All I could do was wonder where the sound was coming from. Were speakers planted in the atmosphere by the government for such occasions? Where did these people think they were going? Should I leave my milk? What if it was just a test and we would soon hear, “This is a test of the emergency broadcast system, this is only a test.” I decided to run.

As I ran towards the door of a mammoth building, a blimp-like airplane was pelted with what resembled Mario Brother’s shark mouth bombs. Then, I went on some sort of mission. I'm not sure of the goal, but what I do remember is being harassed by military personnel. Re: drugs. Opiates to be exact. Apparently because we were at war with a country that cultivated the vast majority of the drug to the world, prescription and non prescription forms were banned. The harassment was somewhere in between a horrific beating and rape.

I woke up absolutely panicked. I felt as if I had been sobbing uncontrollably for a few hours. My body was sore and the sheets stuck to my legs like fly paper.

One thing is for sure, I'm not listening to NPR tonight before bed. Maybe just a nice game of scrabble or something.

current events

my mom is going through a divorce which seems like more of a military war zone
my sister is back in washington with her husband
my brother sleeps all day and rarely speaks in excess of two syllables at a time
my best friend is pregnant and planning a move to california
in one month i will be taking over the duplex which my mom and i currently share. i feel like a big girl again. thank goodness for an awesome employer. there have even been talks of my own purse/shoe line. someone pinch me.

and as for me:
saturday morning i leave on a road trip with stops in washington (wanachee, kirkland, seattle, cheney, spokane) and a few stops in idaho....perhaps even canada. my best friend and i have a long standing tradition of spending the fourth of july together. Of the 13 years (yikes) of knowing eachother, we have only missed two 4ths. i suppose it will be up to her husband and i to do all the celebratory drinking. damn.

oh, and flaxseeds are yummy

the queen of esotericism

regina spektor's new cd is brilliant (not that i doubted her). they style is slightly different than i expected but you will hear no complaints here.

thanks atp...

20 Years of Snow

He's a wounded animal
He lives in a matchbox
He's a wounded animal
And he's been coming around here

He's a dying breed
He's a dying breed

His daughter is twenty years of snow falling
She's twenty years of strangers looking into each other's eyes
She's twenty years of clean
She never truly hated anyone or anything

She's a dying breed
She's a dying breed

She says I'd prefer the moss
I'd prefer the mouth
A baby of the swamps
A baby of the south
I'm twenty years of clean
And I never truly hated anyone or anything
Twenty years of clean
Twenty years of clean

But I got to get me out of here
This place is full of dirty old men
And the navigators with their mappy maps
And moldy heads and pissing on sugarcubes

But I got to get me out of here
This place is full of dirty old men
And the navigators with their mappy maps
And moldy heads and pissing on sugarcubes

While you stare at your boots
And the words float out like holograms
And the words float out like holograms
And the words float out like holograms
They say, feel the waltz, feel the waltz
Come on, baby, baby, now feel the waltz
Feel the waltz, feel the waltz
Come on, baby, baby, now feel the waltz

Mary Karr

i am completely obsessed with this woman, despite the godliness....

here is a link to her npr interview:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=1131295

from her book sinners welccome:

Pathetic Fallacy

When it became impossible to speak to you
due to your having died and been incinerated,
I sometimes held the uncradled phone

with its neat digits and arcane symbols (crosshatch,
black star) as if embedded in it
were some code I could punch in

to reach you. You bequeathed me
this morbid bent, Mother.
Who gives her sixth-grade daughter

Sartre's Nausea to read? All my life,
I watched you face the void,
leaning into it as a child with a black balloon

will bury her countenance
either to hide from
or to merge with that darkness.

Small wonder that still
in the invisible scrim of air
that delineates our separate worlds,

your features sometimes press toward me
all silvery from the afterlife, woven in wind,
to whisper a caution. Or your hand on my back

shoves me into my life.

cozy

something about what these ladies are doing makes me feel all gushy inside. i can almost imagine a group of ladies circled around an abandoned car trying to knit their way to the sunroof. i wonder if they have rival knitters? http://knittaplease.com/About.html

who's space?

so, i read an article in the modesto bee this morning concerning potential employers and myspace. apparently, it is common practice for employers to use myspace in a dirty attempt at finding the "real you". i have a problem with this on so many, many levels. should employers really care about your life outside of the workplace? well, apparently they do, seeing as a huge percentage of employers have actually denied applicants based on the myspace findings. ahhhh!

well, it is clever...ill give them that.

ive just turned 14. i suggest you do the same.

here is a link to another good article... http://www.wnyt.com/x7667.xml?ag=x156&sb=x183

all lovey dovey

why i love holly more than anything in the world (even chocolate):

*she respects my shoe collection.

*dance parties.

*she says, with a completely straight face,

"Okay, who didn't slurp their gutter?"

*when its time to get all dolled up for our glamorous evening of movie watching or dancing, she tells me if my fashion attempts are way over the top. If i decide not to listen to her and still manage a few kudos, she apologizes.

*on a really stressful day, she walks into the room, well before 5:00pm with two beers in hand.

*when i feel like the biggest bitch in the universe, we make chocolate pudding.


in fact, i love her so much that my bodily functions are beginning to coincide with hers. ahhh.

if you have never played cranium...you should. the turbo edition. really. best 20 bucks you'll ever spend.

flyin high

yay me.....interview with private airline this thursday..color me pink and wish me some luck.

rodeo

i have spent the past several days with a new group of buddies. these buddies love the counrty music.....i mean love it. they line dance, chew coppenhagen...and love the cowboys. anywho....while experiencing a major paradigm shift...i discoverd one of the most twistedly hillarious songs in the world. this may just be due to the copious amounts of beer and backseat dancing. im not sure yet. and, by the way i will never go to a rodeo. ever.

The Rodeo Song (chris ledoux)

Well it's 40 below and I don't give a fuck
Got a heater in my truck and I'm off to the rodeo
And it's al em an a left al em and a right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage ya god damn goof ya know

Piss me off ya fuckin' jerk get on my nerves

Well here comes Johnny with his pecker in his hand
He's a one ball man and he's off to the rodeo
And it's ala man left and ala man right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage god damn goof ya know

Piss me off ya fuckin' jerk get on my nerves

Well it's 40 below and I don't give a fuck
Got a heater in my truck and I'm off to the rodeo
And it's al em an a left al em and a right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage ya god damn goof ya know

Piss me off ya fuckin' jerk get on my nerves

Well here comes Johnny with his pecker in his hand
He's a one ball man and he's off to the rodeo
And it's al em an a left al em and a right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage ya god damn goof ya know

Piss me off fuckin' jerk get on my nerves

and for a fleeting moment....

I said I hate retail. I said it a lot. What I meant was I loathe the woman with smeared lipstick and matching nail polish who snaps nastily,

“NO, you are just not listening. That was a half-caf DOPPIO espresso machiatto.”

-under breath expletive-

Enter the 15 going on 30 year old who spends more on a blended heart attack everyday than most use for lunch during the week. And, if the whip isn’t overflowing the quarter-sized straw hole, that sweet little painted face will distort beyond recognition and from pursed lips a high-pitched, “Um, excuse me mam, what’s this all about?”

MAM? MAM! My tongue turns to razors, but I take a deep breath, smile through bleeding lips….then, I am thankful. Thankful that the whipped cream will without doubt, find permanent residence on her still developing thighs.

Oh, thank you to those who derive joy from making the little blonde behind the counter grind her teeth as if bearing down during a gynecological exam.

Thank you. I am no longer blonde.

“No, I said no more than a thimble full of soy, one pump of mocha, chai latte. Mind you, the soy is no hotter than 140 degrees. Oh, and uh, yeah, got that, yeah, don’t forget the light whipped cream.” Now I reply, “Alright, that will be $5.00.” To this, she predictably replies, “But they never charge me for the soy, or for the mocha. Its only one pump.”

How do you argue with logic like that?

“Its just a job.”

“They are only yelling at the apron.”

“Smile, let the boys flirt with you=better tips.”

-under breath expletive-


Ugg

Now, when I have cut twenty tiny bleeding holes in my cheeks because of the unwavering politeness and respect that is bestowed upon that which is the lowly barista (for the massively useless State mandated minimum wage) a woman enters the store. Quietly. She orders a cup of coffee, “straight up”. She picks up a small box of dark chocolate covered espresso beans. Her eyes are soft and it makes my jaws relax a little. Engaged in small talks of weather and lap dogs, she offers the package to me. I suppose she will never know that she restored my faith in humanity, at least for the morning.

what happens when one combines the egg and nog

ringing in the new year was fantastic. then again, when raspberry chipotle dip, fudge, oatmeal cookie shots, and watermelon loli pops are available in abundance, what can go wrong? as always, the company was wonderful…even the slightly drunk k-9 was entertaining. and, to top it off, i had the supreme pleasure of photographing luscious man boobs. not the nipples though. they covered those. such teases.