friendster

Making new friends is always a strange phenomenon. You meet somebody you feel some kind of bond with, you get to know them and then work on developing that bond, and then before you know it...you're friends, maybe even good friends. That's how it should be at any rate. But being typically stubborn and assbackwards, I go about it the alternative/wrong way. I meet a person, declare my undying fidelity and friendship, then I get to know them after the fact. So it ends up that I'm always surprised by people and I think they are often surprised by me. Like today, I found out a good friend of mine is very good friends with somebody who wrote a book that later became a movie. And had spent time with some semi-famous people, he was a part of a very large party scene. I never would have suspected, I know him as my gym friend who eats healthy and invests in stocks and responsibly rides his bike to work to save the environment one commute at a time. It was just plain funny to hear his stories and think that I knew so little about him, even though I am the holder of his spare keys.

xxxoooxxx

happy valentine's day.*


*And don't forget, I hated this day last year too, so that means I'm not some bitter single-gal. I really just think it's a stupid holiday. And frankly, do we REALLY need another excuse to eat too much candy?

sweet lovers love the spring

I have a habit of getting way too optimistic way too quickly. That being said, I should know better than to start shouting from my rooftop, "SPRING IS HERE!" But it's hard not to think that way when the weather has been absolutely divine for the last week. Blue skies, moderate temperatures, people coming out of hibernation and walking the streets, homeless people hanging out in the parks instead of the shelters. I had a glorious day yesterday enjoying the sunshine and Iniki lucked out because of it. We went for the longest walk, from park to park, I kept running into people I sort of know. Including a group of hula-hoopers, where I tried my hands (hips?) at hooping only to realize I have limited coordination skills. Iniki got tons of attention and I took him off his leash, so he was excited. Then Erin and I went down to Pike's Place and walked around the downtown area, where I somehow managed to get into a walk-by shouting match with a pseudo-vagrant with some sort of political/angry agenda. Just a good, good day...though honestly my knees and hips are killing me today. Seattle is hilly!!! I took some pictures and posted them in my flickr account, so take a look if you need to kill a few minutes.

pack mule

Another reason I haven't been writing. I've been working, A LOT! I've actually been doing the normal forty hour work week that most people suffer through. And I've already worked one 11-hour shift with a 12-hour shift on the horizon. But it's all worth it, especially when you go to work and break the machine with your heavy-handed gerry-rigging. Then call customer service and as soon as you say your name, he says "Oh, Lisa insert-last-name. How ya doin?" I am OFFICIALLY the person who breaks the machine more than anybody else. BOOYAH! AND I have taken over the record, that's right the RECORD, for most urines done in one shift. I am the PEE QUEEN!!! Mmmmmhmmmmm, job satisfaction, it's better than sex.

fluffy marshmallow clouds

I realize that I haven't written anything of note here lately. I've just been filling my page with fluff in order to make it seem like I was making some kind of effort at keeping it updated. I started to wonder why I haven't been writing about things that are going on with me, because honestly I feel like things are moving in a very positive direction for me right now. Then it occured to me that in order to talk about how good things feel now, I would have to admit that things had been going very badly. And that's one thing that I have an incredible amount of difficulty doing, admitting my weaknesses. Somehow, I've convinced myself that I have to maintain this front of strength and power, as if showing anything else will chase people away. So I tried to keep all this pain I had been feeling to myself, only occassionaly sharing it with people and feeling like I was chasing them away in the process. I was exhausted, holding all that in was robbing me of my will to continue this life. Then around Halloween, the tiredness and seriousness with which I was taking my life just combusted and I hit rock bottom. I was totally confused about everything. I had all these expectations of how the relationships in my life should be, I had expectations that each encounter I had with a person should somehow evolve into a deep and lasting connection, I thought that if I was aggressive enough that I could make all these things happen. And it just wasn't working out that way. So I fell, and fell hard. I'd convinced myself that I needed things I didn't. And I've been working quite hard to recover from all of that. Now it feels like that work is starting to pay off, I feel like there's been a definite shift in my life and myself. And I'm realizing that I don't have to take it all so seriously. Certainly not everything is as I wished it were. And I still sometimes feel like I want more than I've got. But I'm learning to let go of my old shit that I've been dragging around and trying to get out of my own way. I'm trying not to analyze each and every encounter to death and then blaming myself when things don't quite turn out the way I had hoped. And I'm accepting my hopefulness rather than wishing my hope would die a fiery death. I'm relearning to laugh and smile, if it's at nothing or at myself. Frankly, it scares the shit out of me to write this, and I'm debating whether or not to hit the publish button, but this is it. It is what it is...I'm warty and scarred and damaged, just like everybody else. It's no secret and I need to stop acting as if it were

doppelganger

Never one to shy away from committing plagiarism, I stole this idea from ultra-glam and lovely Atomic Bombshell. Now the first time I used a picture with a hat and ended up being compared to eighty year old balding men. Then I used another picture and as it turns out...I look like all the ethnic ladies they have on their list and several of them are super-hot Bollywood actresses. Yay! I guess that makes me one hot-toddy in India...maybe I should try outsourcing my dating.
Here's my match-up...

doppleganger

I'm not sure what the overall function of the site is, but the celebrity comparison thing is pretty fun. But don't use a picture with a hat. You end up being compared to like Abe Bagoda. Definitely not a self-esteem booster. Let me know which Hollywood stars you end up being compared to. This is my list...apparently I am similar to a lot of ethnic actresses.

sleepyhead

My god, doesn't anybody suffer from insomnia anymore. Here it is...barely midnight and there is nobody around to piss away a good portion of the wasted hours of my life with.
On a completely unrelated note, I've found a way to totally confound random people on the street. Just walk around wearing a silly little smile on your face, a smile that says, "Fuck it, I don't know why I'm smiling either." Because people can deal with pissy, angry faces, they can deal with blank, dead soulless faces...but they just can't understand why a person would enjoy life and be openly expressive about it. And the bewildered looks on their faces just makes you smile more. It's delightfully catty.

play time

Games are supposed to be fun, a good hearty game of Scrabble, a group full of crazy kids playing drunken Jenga, trying to figure out the rules to Cranium. But one game that completely blows is the dating game. I just can't do it. Frankly, I never really could. I'm sure there are a thousand things I could compare the game to in order for it to make more sense. Like fishing, fishing is probably a good example...but I don't really know how to fish either. I guess, for me, the whole idea of making a burgeoning connection with another person into a game is fucking stupid. I won't do it. When I'm interested in a person, I lay it out there. I don't do flirty, I don't do cutesy, I don't play the game. I used to think that it would be considered a refreshing change of pace. And maybe in my early twenties, it was. But now, I think people find it too intense, too aggressive, definitely too much for a city such as Seattle where everybody is slathered in a layer of stand-offishness and THEN doused in a patina of nice, so that trying to figure out if you're coming or going with people is damn near impossible. It's a little frustrating. I'm a little frustrated by it. So then I start second-guessing myself. Are my motives not as pure as I think they are? Am I really playing the game, albeit differently? Maybe I'm baiting my line with honesty and directness? Maybe I need to fire my old coach? But all that second-guessing and I'm still not going to change. John Hughes said it best, "I'd rather be alone for the right reasons, then with someone for the wrong ones." * ** ***

*Which movie is that from?
**I'm really not DOWN about this, it's just something I had on my mind and thought that if I got it out, it wouldn't be any longer.
***I'm not the slightest bit alone. I have an amazing group of people in my life.

pick a card, any card

What Tarot Card Are You?
You symbolize the end, which can be frightening.But you also symbolize the immortality of the soul.You represent transformation, rebirth of a new life.Sweeping away the past is part of this card, as painful as it may be.
Your fortune:
Don't worry, this card does not predict death itself.Instead it foreshadows the ending of an era of your life, one that is hard to let go of.But with the future great new things will come, and it's time to embrace them.Mourn for a while, but then face the future with humility and courage.

dyesaster

My hair and Washington are totally at odds with one another. When I first moved here, I had the worst hair disaster of my young life when some "master" stylist tried to fashion my hair into some horrendous politician's wife's hair. That took forever to grow out. Now I've had my first real hair-color disaster. I've had my hair professionally colored for a long time, but then I decided that I would do it myself to save a few dollars. That was fine for a while, but then Thursday happened. Somehow the dark, espresso brown shade I bought was really meant to create a visage of ugly lighter brown roots. Now I have two-tone hair. Retch. I have to go get it done professionally to fix my mistake, but apparently there is a 48-72 hour window that will have expired by the time I can get it done so the results are up in the air. I guess you can take the girl out of the ghetto, but can never really take the ghetto out of the girl.

annoyance

There is nothing more bothersome nor more painful than cutting your toenails way too short

white heat

What Type of Weather Are You?

Beautiful yet dangerousPeople will stop and watch you when you appearEven though you're capable of random violence
You are best known for: your power
Your dominant state: performing

all growed up

Trouble was right...the good times wouldn't last. I had volunteered to work some extra shifts while one of my coworkers is on maternity leave. I didn't realize that this involved selling my soul to the corporate satan. In the eight weeks of scheduling put out, I asked for one weekend of change (when Katie, who had already bought her ticket, would be in town). My supervisor told me that I was being "dirty" and "not keeping my word." Okay, FUCK THAT! I've said before, call me ugly, stupid, fat (okay, maybe not fat...I get sensitive about that one sometimes), lazy...but NEVER question my integrity. Especially when I'm doing way more to help the place than anybody else. So I stewed for a while and vented to co-workers with a melange of entirely inappropriate language, but I didn't do anything rash. Then later, after I calmed down, I went to my supervisor and talked to her about how I felt (though I left the inappropriate language at the door). It was an entirely grown-up and responsible thing to do. A few years ago, I would have cussed somebody out, burst into tears, and threatened to quit unless I got my way. And hey, you know what, doing it the responsible way...I got my way there too. So...started off bad...ended up good. But I still need to go with Katie's suggestion and get those phone-call voodoo dolls made.

enabler

My coffee addiction has now reached EPIC proportions. It all started with the reintroduction of Taster's Choice crystals, it's a Korean thing, I can't really explain it. Then around Christmas, I got an insanely generous gift card to Starbucks. And just as that started to dwindle to dangerously low levels, we got a Starbucks brewing machine at work. It makes freshly ground Starbucks coffee right there on the spot. And it's FREE...and not the free you get when you dine and dash...it is completely FREE! I will probably actually start going in the work early, instead of showing up seconds before they dock my pay for tardiness, just to make sure that the blood that flows through my veins is as thick as molasses and smells like those fancy coffee beans that come out of monkey butts.

light as a weather, stiff as a board

No amount of willing your phone to ring actually makes it happen. What the hell am I thinking?

wrap-up

Did you ever have one of those really great weekends that made you think, "Wow, my life RAWKS." I totally had one of those weekends. Everything about this weekend was just great. I got to spend quality time with my family and friends. And there is no greater feeling than realizing that you are creating fulfilling and beautiful relationships with people. I met some new people that I hope to get to know better. I cleaned my apartment and went on a totally financially ill-advised shopping rampage in order to make my place feel a little more homey. I even went so far as to use my stove and cook food, though once it was cooked I didn't feel even remotely compelled to eat it. And the Seahawks are going to the Superbowl for the first time ever. I'm really feeling (dare I say it) like somehow something in my life switched and I'm moving in a positive direction that just seems ripe with possibilities. I know that sounds totally trite, but for the first time in a while I'm actually glad to have this feeling of hope.

spam the old fashioned way

I used to get a shit-ton of catalogues. Mostly crappy catalogues like Oriental Trading Company and Fingerhut. But somehow I ended up on a pretty cool mailing list. I was "invited" to attend a meeting for a cancer society that will assist you in training for marathons, triathalons, and the like so that you can then help them raise money. And the races are in the most amazing places. Finally, somebody is recognizing my hard-labor at the gym. No more will I suffer through the delicious torture of perusing Harry & David catalogues and other hawkers of sinful, delivered right to your doorstep, cellulite inducers. Although I'm pretty sure that my gym sold my information to these people.

spam the old fashioned way

I used to get a shit-ton of catalogues. Mostly crappy catalogues like Oriental Trading Company and Fingerhut. But somehow I ended up on a pretty cool mailing list. I was "invited" to attend a meeting for a cancer society that will assist you in training for marathons, triathalons, and the like so that you can then help them raise money. And the races are in the most amazing places. Finally, somebody is recognizing my hard-labor at the gym. No more will I suffer through the delicious torture of perusing Harry & David catalogues and other hawkers of sinful, delivered right to your doorstep, cellulite inducers. Although I'm pretty sure that my gym sold my information to these people.

distortion

Somebody asked me how I see myself in the mirror. Do I look in the mirror and see some horrendous beast of a woman staring back at me? A hugely obese manatee? Well no, I don't look in the mirror and see some hideous creature worthy of the murky depths of the Great Barrier Reef. What's funny about how I look in the mirror is that I don't see the big picture. I look at myself in fragments. I see puzzle pieces that, when viewed by others, somehow become a whole person. I read somewhere that this is the best way to improve your self-esteem. Rather than looking at yourself as an imperfect whole, concentrate on the things about yourself that you like best. Frankly, that whole train of thought is complete and utter BULLSHIT! I haven't felt this lackluster in ages. So when you look in the mirror, how do you see yourself?

check another off of the list

I just walked past two people smoking crack in the park. My city adventures are complete.

bondage

Whew, I'm almost back to the land of the living. Not quite...but almost. I ended up doing only half of the things I set out to do this weekend, but that was probably for the best. The things I did end up doing were wonderful. I feel like I got significantly closer to some friends of mine and met some new people that I hope to become closer to in the future. And part of the reason that's happening is because I'm finally letting myself open up a little. I'm opening myself to the possibility that I am worth something, worth enough that other people would want to share their lives with me, which is a little scary...because I've looked at myself through a looking glass that told me something else for so long that I don't know which version is the distorted one.
Ah well, introspection and misfiring synapses aside, I've got a lot to be thankful for right now.

news and 'dotes

I made a myspace profile for Iniki (shhhh, I don't think that's actually allowed). The sad thing about it is that within a day he's racked up more friends than I did in a day. And he's gotten more messages and comments than me.
Duct tape is pure genius. I broke the loop on one of my favorite belts and didn't know what I was going to do to fix it. But then I remembered this site and it inspired me to create my own duct tape magic. Not only can it hold up my boys in a strapless dress but can also be quite stylish. I think after I finish a few of my knitting projects, I'm going to make a duct tape corset.
I am seriously addicted to two songs right now, "Till There Was You" by Rachael Starr (Gabriel & Dresden remix) and "What Else Is There" by Royksopp (Trentemoller remix). I think I have listened to both at least ten times today.
The rain in this freakin' wet city, 25 days in a row and counting. Nine more and it's a new record for shittiness.
I have a busy weekend coming up, starting tomorrow and going until I head to work on Sunday. And this is me taking a break?

rain, rain go away

This could be why I'm feeling a little down. I know it's the northwest and all and I really don't mind the rain normally. But enough is enough. All I need is like two days of blue skies, it doesn't even have to be warm really. Is that asking too much?
UPDATE: Oh Mother Nature, you and your warped sense of humor...thanks for the blue skies and sunshine that I can enjoy on the ten minute walk to work where I'll spend the day in the third level of hell with no windows.

r.i.p.

A few months ago I mentioned that a former co-worker of mine passed away. Well today I got a phone call from a friend and a doctor I used to work with/for in that same clinic died in a car accident. He was in his late 40s I think. He had two children, both in their teens. Though I can't say that I liked him or working with him all that much, I'm still shocked and saddened by this news.

crotchety

Warning: this post is just a tad vulgar and inappropriate. So it's probably best to not read it at all. If you do, take it with a grain of salt and a pinch of bad humor.
It must have been because of the fungal thoughts earlier in the day. Somehow today ended up being a day-o-crotches.
First, my sister and I went to Olympus Spa, a Korean styled bath-house, because my mom had gotten us gift certificates for my birthday (yeah, let's not even get into the whole "Why does Sofia always get presents on MY birthday" thing). Now in Korea, some homes don't have actual bathrooms with showers and bathing with a bucket gets a little tiresome. So, people go to these bath-houses to bathe and soak in all sorts of fancy bathwaters (like tea baths and mugwort), use steam saunas, and have an ajima scrub away your dead skin to leave you soft and shiny like a newborn's butt. The Olympus spa is styled after those, but much fancier and spendier. It's apparently quite popular and not just with the Asian ladies. It's an interesting place because you pretty much spend your entire stay there in your birthday suit. Which is fine, I'm not a TOTAL prude when it comes to nudity. But seriously, in certain situations, keeping your legs locked at the knees is so way necessary. There are just some things you really need to keep to yourself. And I don't know when the afro came back in style...but it has and I'm not sure how I feel about that.
Then later I was at the gas station. While I was trying to count out exact change, the attendant full on started adjusting himself for what seemed like an eternity. I was a little appalled but tried to pretend like I didn't notice. At some point giving the boys some air becomes lewd conduct in a public place and this guy crossed that line and then some.
The ick factor was running high today.

his and hers

I'm not completely sure what produced this train of thought. It is probably exhaustion keeping the usual checks and balances that prevent the crazy from running rampant in my brain from working. At any rate, sometime during the day, I started thinking about gendered speech. Which somehow made me start thinking about feminine hygiene products and the "not so fresh" feeling. And then the epiphany struck and if I were still in school, still doing the whole gender studies thing. I might actually consider doing a dissertation on the subject.
Why is it that the way we talk about crotch ailments is so gendered? When men get the fungal going in their crotches, it's called JOCK ITCH. Manly sounding isn't it? Men get to blame exercise for their down-under funkiness. And not just any old exercise...oh NO...the exercise of JOCKS, super-duper ultra-masculine exercise. And since it's just an itch, well you get an otc spray and problem solved.
However, when women get the fungal going on...it's not an overabundance of activity and sweat that gets blamed. NO...we get INFECTIONS! Dirty, dirty infections to go along with all the crazy lack of groin freshness that we have to deal with already. And infections require the loving care of a doctor just waiting to use a super cold speculum.
Just another sign that women are evil and nasty, just like that damnable Eve.

time of your life

I know I've said it before, but I am going through an existensial crisis. Which I suppose isn't too surprising considering the upheaval my life has experienced in the last year+. But the thing I've been pondering lately is this...doesn't a crisis imply some kind of limited time offer. At some point I should be getting over this whole, "what's the meaning of life and is it even worth it?" head trip that I've been putting myself through right? Is it even worth asking the question when you know you'll never find the answer? I'm starting to think that a good hard blow to the head might be the answer here.

stupid quiz day

Your Brain's Pattern

Your mind is a firestorm - full of intensity and drama.
Your thoughts may seem scattered to you most of the time...
But they often seem strong and passionate to those around you.
You are a natural influencer. The thoughts you share are very powerful and persuading.
What Pattern Is Your Brain?

You Are Chinese Food

Exotic yet ordinary.
People think they've had enough of you, but they're back for more in an hour.
What Kind of Food Are You?

The Movie Of Your Life Is A Black Comedy

In your life, things are so twisted that you just have to laugh.
You may end up insane, but you'll have fun on the way to the asylum.
Your best movie matches: Being John Malkovich, The Royal Tenenbaums, American Psycho
If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

You Are 50% Weird

Normal enough to know that you're weird...
But too damn weird to do anything about it!
How Weird Are You?

Found this one over at AtomicBombshell's, though clearly I changed it from her birthday to my birthday:

You are a born idealist, with more pet causes than you can count.
You prefer to be around others, both when working and while relaxing.
Generous and giving, you believe you can change the world one person at a time.
You're open minded and tolerant.
People feel like they can tell you anything.
Your strength: Your go-with-the-flow flexibility
Your weakness: Your flair for the over dramatic
Your power color: Pine green
Your power symbol: Circle
Your power month: September
What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

life sentence

The other day I went down to Omah's One Stop Laundromat and Grocery Store, aka my mom's house, cause I'm college dorm kid like that. I like to run my errands that involve bulky items while I'm down there because it's suburbia and therefore much easier to drive around. I went to Safeway to get the big jugs of water, a pain in the ass to carry five blocks from the grocery store here in town. As I was walking out, I ran into one of my sister's friends. I've been around her a handful of times, I've even been to her house. So I said hi to her and we hugged, but I could tell that she didn't REALLY know who I was. Right after I walked off, I guess she called my sister to ask if it was me that she just ran into. And I guess she asked, "Has your sister been in prison? She's lost a lot of weight." OKAY! I joke about being on a prison diet, but how one jumps from weight loss to incarceration is beyond me. It's bad enough that quite a few people assume that my weight loss is directly attributed to some form of drug abuse. What ever happened to the days when people could just have an eating disorder? Seriously, isn't anorexia enough, do I have to be a junkie former felon too?

clean and clear

For NYE, a friend and I decided that I should do a little cleansing ritual. Without getting into too much detail (mostly because I end up looking like such a fucking girl, and a psycho girl at that), it involved a cell phone and the delete button. It was a strangely difficult task to accomplish, two pushes of a button and I stood there feeling nauseous. But I did it, I cleansed right after midnight. And when I got home and remembered that I had written the number down when I did my phone number backup, I erased it from the list as well. So I should be cleansed right? I should feel as light as air, completely exhilarated. According to some television commercial I saw, getting rid of the phone number on your cell is the FINAL STEP in forgetting and letting go. Except it's actually had the opposite effect in my case. My brain has been CONSUMED lately with the person associated with that damn number (yeah, it wasn't even that person's number I had...sad I know). I don't know why, I really don't. Clearly avoiding #3 and #5 (due to my not avoiding #4 last year) isn't going very well.

resolving

I don't do resolutions. I think they're kind of silly. If you couldn't make yourself do the exact same thing on the 31st of December, then chances are you aren't going to do them come January 1st. And why set yourself up for failure so early in the year...wait until summer to disappoint yourself, at least then the weather is better. But, hypocrisy not withstanding here, there are a few things I'm going to try and avoid this year:
1. Expectations
2. Overindulgence of any sort
3. Hanging on to shit
4. Boys who are from out of town, moving out of town, Capricorns, artists/musicians/djs, have read The Way of the Peaceful Warrior, Asian fetishists, and/or ego-hounds.
5. Self-loathing

Nothing too big or complicated...
Oh and #4 isn't directed at anybody who actually reads this page...just in case you wondered.

so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye

My house has that distressing quiet and stillness that you get after having had people over. The quiet that makes me think that my space stays empty far too often. Gabs is gone, soon to return to the land of bluegrass and bourbon. And for me, things are slowly returning back to (ab)normal. I went back to work last night, I finally dragged my bloated ass to the gym this morning, and my dog is back on his schedule too. We definitely rock-starred it up during the visit, though I did manage to not go completely overboard. Mostly due to lack of funding...so yay for being broke, it kept me from spending quality time with my toilet. I know everybody complains about having out-of-town guests because you have to do the same old touristy shit, but I think secretly everybody enjoys it. I like Pike Place Market, even when it's crawling with brain-dead tourists. Next time I have a visitor, hopefully the weather will be a lot nicer and we can do more outdoorsy stuff.

paradigm shift

First it was the confirmation of Justice Alito. Then the death of Betty Friedan and Coretta Scott King. I can't help but feeling like an era has somehow ended. And it's a little scary. Honestly, I don't feel too dramatic when I read the news and think, "The civil rights movement is dead." I feel like I belong to a generation of passive-aggressive politicism. It's not that we don't care, or that we don't care enough...maybe we just stopped believing we could actually make a change. I have a hard time believing that change can happen. Especially when I see how easily we're manipulated into focusing on things that have absolutely no importance, like whether or not Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are expecting a boy or girl. I don't know what I wish more, that I have nothing to be worried about or that other people started to be a little more worried.

signs, signs, everywhere are signs

*Please read this with the self-deprecating humor with which it is intended.
We're always looking for signs. Should I take this job, should I go to this place, will my ass look fat in these pants? We hope that somebody else will clue us in on how to go about things. But what I've realized lately is that signs are EVERYWHERE, we just ignore them when they don't give us the answer we want. I did exactly that when it came to a person who I had a slightly more than friendly interest in. I kept shaking the Magic 8 Ball of Fate (my personal and ever-present dominatrix) and the signs kept telling me, "Outlook not so good." But I wasn't hearing that. It was bad enough that this person fulfilled many of the requirements on the checklist of guys I should avoid like the plague. But I wasn't hearing that either. Then the signs starting coming, first and foremost the BIG one...when said person doesn't call, they just aren't that into you. But I'm like that stupid gopher game, I keep popping my head up waiting to get pummelled with some overzealous hammer. So more signs, even more obvious ones, including seeing this person make out with somebody and then realizing this person thought I was gay...which should be a couple of super-duper, right in your face big clues that the margins of success were slim to none. All those signs, blocking up the scenery...but I guess I still didn't quite get it. Next thing I know, I'm accidentally forwarding a message about my dirty panties to the person and THEN the light comes on. FINALLY I recognize the signs for what they are. Nothing like abject humiliation to open your eyes.

infusion

I went to a friend of a friend of a friend's house yesterday evening. It was an interesting experience for sure. I had savory crepes, good conversation, and then drank a shot of vodka infused with something. I can't remember what exactly, but it started with a Y. And after offering but before handing me the drink, the host asked, "Do you have any heart problems?" Most people would probably not drink something that promised a heart attack for a few heart-unhealthy individuals...but not me, that just made it that much more interesting. Apparently, the stuff in the drink is an aphrodisiac and it elevates your body temperature and then after a while cools it down. Well, I can personally only attest to the warming and cooling of the body temperature...the accuracy of other part somebody else will have to verify.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

back it up, baby

I've had a few problems with my sink backing up since I've been in this apartment. It's actually a pretty gross problem because twice I've looked into my sink and realized that the food backing up wasn't anything I'd ever eaten. But it was a small problem that seemed to fix itself, and I didn't want to be a whiny tenant. Until last night. Gabs was ironing his clothes and noticed water backing up, water that soon turned into something a lot like turkey soup. But I didn't worry all that much because it had always drained away again. So I put a little drano into the sink and then we went out to dinner and to get a drink. We get home and I turn the corner of my hallway to find my little "kitchen" flooded with funky turkey soup water. GROSS! Of course it's midnight at this point, I lost the manager's number during the great phone crisis of October, and I'm really hoping that Iniki wasn't lapping at the turkey-drano cocktail on the floor. I go to the manager's apartment, who not surprisingly doesn't answer her door...though probably for the best since every time I see her, she threatens to tow my car. Luckily, nobody in Seattle sleeps before four a.m., so I'm able to get the main manager's phone number and call him. He says he'll be out here first thing to snake the drain...then doesn't show up til after 10. And that leaves Gabs, my visitor from Kentucky, driving my car down to the airport to pick up our friend since I've got to hang around for my sink to be fixed. Lesson learned from this experience: complain your ass off when things start going wrong with your apartment, cause they will just invariably get worse.

I think I just walked past a person I went to basic training with (in the airport parking lot). Weird.


UPDATE: I saw him again in the parking lot, so I stopped him and asked him. As it turns out, I did go to basic training with him. He was our platoon guideon carrier. Weird indeed.

anticipation

In about nine hours, the ultra-glam Mr. Gabs H. will be gracing Seattle with his presence. I'm so excited, I could barely sleep and I'm up at 8 am... which, if I were Catholic, would count as a miracle and put me on the road to sainthood. It'll be nice to have somebody around that REALLY knows me. Talking yesterday on the phone, Gabs says, "I'm bringing some jeans and shirts and my travel iron, because I know you still don't have one." Damn skippy, domestics and Masil do not a happy couple make.
At any rate, if I don't get around to blogging much, it's because I'll be out and about. Thank god I rested up for the week. There are going to be a lot of rockstar days.

dance, dance i say

Christmas isn't REALLY about giving. No, it's pretty much about buying the presents you wish you had been given. If they're for kids, the gifts are basically the things that you as an adult want to play with. And that explains why my brother's three kids didn't get nearly as much play-time with the Dance Dance Revolution Extreme game and foot pad thingie as my sister, brother, and myself. Mostly because it's not nearly as funny watching kids trying to play the game as it is watching three adults with limited coordination skills. It's something akin to drunken cockroach stomping followed by a grand mal seizure. And seriously, my knees are killing me today.

eyes wide shut

My head is HUGE! No doubt about it. I can't wear women's hats because they often don't fit my massive cranium. I also have trouble finding glasses that flatter my ginormous head. But I never realized that, in addition to my monstrous noggin, my eyes are incredibly far apart, until I noticed that I have to adjust the microscope lenses after EVERYBODY...even the men. And everybody has to adjust them after me, several centimeters in fact. I guess that makes me some kind of opticular FREAK! But I think I remember reading something about people with wide-spaced eyes appearing more trustworthy, as opposed to beady-eyed people...so maybe that's why I get all the boob talk. Hmmmm.

taking into account

I put myself on a pretty strict budget a few weeks back. Basically, because I figured out that I was spending about four times more than I should be and my nest egg was dwindling very quickly. The first couple of weeks, staying within the budget was easy. The last couple of weeks were not so great. But this weekend I decided to get back on the ball, even though I have to spend money because of the stupid holidays that I'm not even remotely interested in celebrating (can I get a bah-humbug?). So I was good all week: only one song bought on iTunes, only one visit to the coffee shop, eating the crap in my fridge... I managed to hold onto my last ten bucks for four days, that is until today. Today I went and got a coffee...trust me though, I TOTALLY deserved it. I had a little over five left, which would have lasted through Saturday. But then I guess I dropped the money and now I only have thirty-five cents left. My punishment for getting the coffee I guess, now some random street-person can better afford his meth habit and I won't be able to buy my prawn taco come Saturday.

tee and aye

There's some strange phenomenon afoot that I've just really started to recognize. I give off some major boob-vibe. It seems like whenever I go out, women feel compelled to talk to me about their breasts. Friday night, standing outside, a complete stranger just started telling me about the smallness of her boobs and then told me the oddest story about marathon running and moleskin. And this kind of thing happens a lot. Then every once in a while, I get to see boobs too. I've probably seen more boobs than a lot of men out there, and I'm not even counting all of the shower time from the Army days. I wish I could figure out exactly what gets these ladies going on about their boobs...I would SO write a self-help book and cash in.

revisiting

"I can totally relate here. I've always hated my moniker and while in DC I did something about it. I made everybody call me the pseudonym I thought of some random drunken night while chatting on AOL. Those months as that person were the best of my life. But somehow I know I can't go back, so now I have to figure out who the new me is as I approach my third decade."
Jen emailed me that. It was a comment I left on her blog. I remember writing that though I don't know exactly when I did. But it got me thinking about my life here in Seattle. I moved here to Washington in May and up to Seattle in October...both really short spans of time. And my life is so profoundly different than it used to be. If I think back to a year ago, it would be almost impossible to imagine my life as it is now. Sometimes I feel like this life, in this time and space, is all a dream that I'll wake up from and think to myself how strange it all was. Other times I can't decide if my life is surreal or superreal. It's not just that I look different, though that fact alone contributes quite a bit to the world treating me differently, I feel completely different. Parts of me that had laid dormant for years are just starting to awaken. Frankly it feels a bit like your foot waking up after being completely numb and asleep, all of those tingling electric shocks that are a little painful. It's a curious thing, this journey and evolution. But I'm not working on the new me, I'm just working on me.

chameleon

Sometimes I feel like I'm completely invisible.

itchy and scratchy show

My dog has fleas. And since I'm one of those dog owners who lets her dog sleep with her and climb all over the furniture and pretty much own my space...well I guess that means that I have fleas too. Why all the bites have managed to be concentrated in my groin area is beyond me...

working at a dump

Definitely have to be vague here as I don't want to end up one of those unemployed bloggers. As it turns out, not only does the place I work serve crappy Christmas dinners...but they're destroying the planet. The public relations department is already serving up big bowls of ignorance with big heaping spoonfuls of denial of any wrongdoing. Typical. And the irony of the whole thing is more than I can stand. My neck is getting sore from all of the incredulous head-shaking I've been doing tonight.

six stories of story

Just saw Harry Potter on Imax. Maybe I'm a sucker for a blockbuster because I have to say...I really liked it! It could have been the crystal digital sound, it might have been the forty feet of boys that it is completely illegal of me to have lustful thoughts about, or quite possibly the fact that I had a couple o' few drinks at a happy hour before I got to the movie...who knows? All I can say is that I enjoyed my three hours with The Goblet of Fire. I agree with some of the things people have pointed out as drawbacks, but it didn't ruin it for me even the slightest. And I shed the biggest crocodile tears when Cedric's dad started howling. I am a sucker for melodrama...I grew up watching Korean soap operas, how could I not be? But really, I think I need to step outside of the children's movie box because it's getting a little weird that I'm whispering to my friends that I think high school boys from HP:GOF and fauns from Narnia are hot. Next on my list of movies to watch...King Kong by Peter Jackson. And it has nothing to do with my weird fascination with Adrien Brody... REALLY!

deceptacon

Okay, massive rant coming on...just warning you.
Why are deception and lying such easy things for people to do? How is it possible that a person can actually convince themselves that deceiving somebody is the correct fucking course of action? Do people really think that somehow the withholding of important information is somehow any different than an outright bold-faced lie? SERIOUSLY!!! Is it any different? When somebody purposely withholds an important piece of information, a little tidbit that could change the course of somebody's actions, do they REALLY REALLY think that it's any different than out-and-out lying to that person? I have to believe that people must really believe that, because it happens with an amazing consistency. If a person has the chance to tell the entire story, has several opportunities to do so, and then doesn't...it makes them a LIAR, that's all there is to it, no negotiating levels of truth here!!! And that makes that person incapable of any true connection with a person on any level, despite all of their pretenses. ARGH, I try so hard not to lie or deceive, I've spent years trying to escape the pathological lying that came so easy to me before. But what's the point, the reciprocation of honesty is so pathetic that it makes it hardly worth the effort. I just want to fucking scream, rip my hair out and leave shiny bald patches on my scalp. I'm ready to GIVE UP on my journey to try and better connect with people because I keep getting sucked into other people's deceptions. I should be smarter than this, I should have enough experience to realize this, I should have kept my fortress solid to protect against these things because so far it hasn't been worth it to try and tear them down. Poor me, my control drama rearing its monstrous head. My choices are my follies, and I don't even have my youthful naivete to blame it on any more.

weekend update

I had a really great weekend. It was one of those weekends that you wish you could relive again and again. I went to a great party on Saturday night, my first Consolidated Works and first large scale Burning Man party. I left that party thinking how much I love being in Seattle. I saw a lot of really cool people I've met since I've been here, I met some really cool new people, and frankly Seattle is CRAWLING with totally hot people and I think most of them came to this party...meow, seriously something about people in rubber and fur (well fake fur at any rate)... Great, great, great night. Which is good because for some reason I got a little freaked out about it Saturday afternoon and almost didn't go. But I have to say, I'm REALLY glad I did.
Then yesterday we saw Narnia. It was a really good movie. Granted it was a packed movie theater and we had to sit in the second row, so my neck is totally killing me, but otherwise I have no complaints. I heart Tilda Swinton. She made an amazing White Witch and her costumes were gorgeous, I'm thinking that I know what I want to do for Halloween next year. It says a lot about the quality of movies being released lately that the only movies I ever go to see anymore are basically what amounts children's stuff. Wednesday I'm going to see Harry Potter on Imax. YAY.

you get what you pay for

Oh, why don't I learn to stay away from free meals? The hospital I work at (not for) was generous enough to give us a free holiday meal. There was a salad, a piece of bread, carrots, potatoes, big massive slabs of animal flesh dripping with greasy bloody juices and then covered in a sludgy gravy, a savory vegetarian selection, and the most SINFUL piece of chocolate cake. Most of it was boring and bland. OH BUT THE CAKE! Worth every little piece of cellulite currently attaching themselves to my thighs. Everything else though...not really worth the gassy stomach-ache. Seriously, if that's the best they can offer me for the short months of barely dedicated service I've grudgingly given...then I'm glad I spend most of the day slacking off.

top dog

Who knew my dog was a top? I took him for his long walk, otherwise known as the poo-poo walk, and there at the park were three other dogs about the same size as he is. Generally I've found that the city-folk don't like a lot of pet-to-pet interaction, maybe just some mild butt sniffing. But these ladies were letting the dogs frolick and romp and they were gracious enough to let pups join in on the fun. The dogs were wrestling and nipping at one other, it was fun to watch. But it wasn't enough for him to just join in the reindeer games, no he had to show the other pups who was boss. I know it's perfectly natural for dogs to show dominance, "playing horsie" as my little five-year old neighbor used to call it, but my god my pups does it a lot! A LOT! It's like a switch goes off in his little top brain and then he's ony capable of doing the one thing. Pretty soon nobody will let him play anymore...well except for that little chihuahua that the owners dress in a leather vest.

outburst

So I kind of went off on this girl at work last night. Not a full-blown temper tantrum, but definitely a snarky showing that wasn't really necessary. Now I feel a little bad. Overall, this person is really nice, but something she was doing started to bother me. Mostly because her actions reminded me of someone else. So I reacted. And then created tension just to relieve some of my own internal tension. Not that I'm discounting my feelings, she was doing what I called her on. The pacifier in me says I should apologize. However, the stubborn bitch devil's advocate in me says that I shouldn't say I'm sorry. I'm torn.

dreaming

I said a while back that I would take nightmares if that would bring the dreams back. Who knew I was a psychic? I have had terrible dreams lately...and the same one has been replaying the last few nights. In these dreams, it's always the nice people who turn out to be the monsters. And for some reason, they're always trying to take my puppy. And nobody will lend me their horse so I can try to escape. But there's always time to wash my hair. And the people I feared most actually turned out to be more helpful than others. I'd like to see somebody interpret the meaning of that.

quandries

Here's some of the questions we debated at work last night, definitely the kind of stuff that will keep you up at night.

How does Superman get a haircut?
Would you need kryptonite shoes to kick Superman in the groin?
Who would be better in bed, Superman or Spiderman?
Is Spiderman into s&m?I
s Wonder Woman a lesbian?
Oops, forgot one...Would Wonder Woman and Xena make a good match?

* * *

It's snowing!

elborate ruse

I found out today that I've been victimized by an imposter. I had been writing back and forth with my friend on our myspace accounts, thinking the whole time that I was writing to my friend. But as it turns out, it wasn't her at all and the conversation we had been having was somebody else pretending to be her. The only reason I started to get suspicious was when this person started talking about cheating on her husband and then I knew something was up. But up until that point I had no idea.
PS-I got a library card today. YAY!

grumble

I bought the new Madonna CD on pre-order from iTunes. Steve and company pulled a fast one on me. Instead of releasing the cd with individual tracks, they released it as one long-ass cut. So I have one 53-minute file instead of like nine 4-minute files. Lame lame lame. I get it, they want to prevent p2p sharing. But I don't have fifty-plus minutes to devote to listening to one cd and because it's such a huge file I won't put it on my iPod so the end result it that I haven't listened to the cd or most of the songs. Not that Steve and Esther care, they already have my money.

bird flu

Only days after eating turkey and chicken, I have the flu. Coincidence? Probably. I should probably go get orange juice and other nourishment but I'm too tired. I miss having somebody around the take care of me when I'm feeling shitty. But at least there's room at the table for my pity party of one.

got game?

I realized the other day that I haven't dated or been on a date in eight years. That's a long time. My reintroduction into the dating pool, thusly unsuccessful. I'm definitely relearning by trial and error. For instance, while flirting with a cute boy, would it be considered bad form to point out he has a little booger hanging out of his nose? Yeah, I thought so. Another lesson learned the hard way.

fan mail

Dear Fergie,
First off, let me say that I can remember back when you were Stacy on Kids Incorporated. My cousin Stacy would pretend to be you, I would pretend to be Gloria/Martika, and my sister got stuck with the other girl...what's her name.
I even remember when you were in that group Black Orchid...or some other flower.
So though I haven't followed your career that closely, it's clear that I've mostly been a fan for a while. I mean I had never heard of the Black Eyed Peas until after you joined the mix.
That's why I feel like I can write this letter to you, we have history together girl.
Let's start with the props since most people like the good news first.
1. You have a bangin' body. The abs and the ass alone are worth the price of admission.
2. You have a smokin' hot fiance. Josh Duhammel...nice one.
3. You can sing, and not in a Britney Spears/Ashlee Simpson, "thank god for dubbing" kind of way...but you can work them pipes.
SOOOOOO, now that you're in the glow of positivity, I need to have a little talk about something else. See, I know you say you're beauty is all natural and sometimes a little delusion is good for a person, trust me girl...I feel you there. If you need to lie and say that power of the lip plumper is with you and not you know...surgically implanted fat from your ass...go right ahead.
But for the love of god, please please admit that you had some eye work done. Frankly, your eyebrows are scary. And scarier still, girls are starting to copy them. COPY YOUR EYEBROWS FERGIE!
Not good brows like Garbo or even campy fun brows like Crawford....your far too highly arched and way too penciled in eyebrows. Now it would be okay if it were just the drag queens doing it, but I've seen a lot of other ladies and it's just disturbing.
I know I can't be the only person having this guttural reaction to people copying your brows, so unless you want us to take it out on you by not buying your records....then just come out and admit that your plastic surgeon pulled a little too tight and that's why your brows are so creepy. You'll be doing a lot of sheep/girls a favor and helping me with the nightmares.
Truly,
Lisa M.

holiday wishes and holiday cheer

Happy Thanksgiving! Enjoy the ridiculous amounts of food, followed by semi-comatose television watching. While you're gnawing on your turkey legs, think of the poor souls like me who have to go in to work and handle jars of bodily fluids.

r.e.m.

No not the band. That mysterious magical time that happens during sleep, which has been eluding me again. I usually dream quite vividly but I haven't in a while. Either because I don't get much sleep or because I crash so hard from sheer exhaustion that I can't remember if I dreamt or not. I miss my dreams. I miss waking up and thinking, "What the hell was that all about?" I miss flying like Superman, kissing A-list movie stars, and growing that tail I've always wanted. I would even take a bad dream at this point. I read somewhere once that one of the most effective means of torture is to not let somebody fall into a r.e.m. cycle. That must make me a masochist.

noticable

I think that there are four types of people:
People who don't like attention,
people who could care less if they get it,
people who like it,
and then people who NEED the attention.

I'm always amazed when I go out how many people fall into the latter category. It's like they need some kind of outside validation to prove to themselves that they're pretty or interesting or worthy. For a while I found myself falling into that category, wanting attention to prove my worth. But after last night, I realized that I'm not that person any longer. I don't need somebody else's attention. I don't need to be told I'm beautiful or have guys crowding my space, because I'm going to walk away from that experience feeling as good about myself as I did before it. Because I'm learning to be fine with myself, a difficult journey for sure, and it just doesn't require somebody else's attentions to make it happen.

visitors

Remember the crackhead sized raccoons that REALLY were crackheads. Well last night they REALLY were raccoons. They were the biggest raccoons I have ever seen in my life. There were two of them and they were seriously bigger than my dog. And they weren't the slightest bit scared by me. They stared me down like they were ready for a bar fight. Chances are, they would have won.

like a fox

You never realize HOW crazy you are until you have the chance to comparison shop. Apparently my crazy runs along the lines of obsessive. Driving around in the middle of the night looking for a 24-hour Wal-mart (aka corporate SATAN!) so that I can buy a vacuum cleaner belt even though I intended to wait until the next morning to vacuum...not what normal people do. Normal people wait until the next day and go to the Target ten minutes away. But I've already rationalized it and blamed my insomnia.
On a completely unrelated note. I got this from Katie, who got it from her mother. For a change it was a picture that didn't have big nekkid boobs, but it does offer some good

fishlips

Yesterday I bought this.

Part of me was intrigued, fuller & poutier lips would put me dangerously close to Angelina Jolie lips.

Who doesn't want to be associated with that level of hotness?

The other part of me was repulsed.

Who wants a lip gloss with a warning label and promises to do exactly what herpes/fever blisters do to my lips.

But intrigue won out and I purchased the gloss.

So now on with the experiment...

Before the fatty plumping glossing (yeah, my lips are a wee bit chapped, it's winter):

So then I applied and within fifteen minutes there was a definite tingle and burn. But did it follow through with the promise of plumping and pinkness?

While I definitely agree that my lips got pinker, I'm not one hundred percent sold on the 20% size increase. Though I think they do look a little fuller, but that could just be from the gloss.

tidbit

So I guess I forgot this little piece of information about the guy in the break room. He wasn't wearing shoes. He had his boots in a bag and he told me it was because his feet hurt and his boots didn't give him enough ventilation. Now I told everybody that I thought he was on drugs. But the only part of the story that seems to get everybody's attention is the fact that he didn't have his shoes on and that I remembered what color socks he was wearing. So who exactly is missing the point here, them or me?

naivete

At work today, there was a pre-Thanksgiving/extended celebration of the Day of LisaM. potluck.
When I went to break there was this guy in the break room, a guy who I didn't recognize. Granted, I barely recognize half of the people who work in the other rooms of our lab, but I was really weirded out by this guy. Not only had I NEVER seen him before, but he set my alarms off in a big way.
Our breakroom is in a secure area and I had to put the code in to get in, so naturally I assumed that he got in via code as well. He was talkative and looked like he knew the place inside out, he knew where the get towels, he knew where we kept the spoons, he just acted like he belonged there.
So we're making some small talk and the whole time I'm thinking that something is amiss, so I ask him where he worked and he just brushed that aside and started talking about his shoes.
But I just kept thinking that something was off and so I paid really close attention to what he looked like and how he acted, I even thought that he was a tweaker and probably on meth because he just gave me that vibe.
After about ten minutes he left. So I just sit there dumbfounded, wondering what the hell just happened and who this guy was.
After my break I walked over to the supervisor's offices and saw him walking out. I wondered where the plate of food he had went, he couldn't have eaten it that fast. But he came out of the supervisor's office, so then I figured he must work with us because why else would he have gone in there?
As soon as I got back into the lab, I asked around...hey who's the guy with the goatee and somebody said, "Oh that's Dan."
Mystery solved right? Not even thirty minutes later, our manager has called security because somebody walked into her office (she left the door open) and stole a bunch of stuff.
And apparently I wasn't the only person who saw this guy and thought "What the fuck?" but I AM the only one who made conversation with him and saw him in both areas.
So I'm either naive, though the fact that I was suspicious kind of puts a small dent in that theory, or I am a totally jaded city person, the kind of person who would hear and see a person getting raped and murdered and not do anything about it. I'm a little scared either way.

lisa it's your birthday, happy birthday lisa

Happy Birthday to me! Though after today this day will no longer be known as the birthday, instead we shall call it the Day of LisaM.!

PS-I'm wearing Atomic Bombshell's t-shirt today! Yay for birthday presents. And thanks to Katie for the awesome gifts, including the world's biggest underpants. Thanks also to my Seattle and Lakewood peeps who came out and celebrated with me throughout the weekend. Now I'm just waiting for my sister and her plus one so that we can go indulge in a ridiculously sinful piece of cake at this chocolatier/bakery down the street. I might be wearing the world's biggest underpants yet.

whew

Definitely a rockstar weekend. I need a weekend to recover from my weekend. I would provide details, but I'm not sure how much of it would be accurate. Just two short days until I am no longer a twenty-something miscreant. The paradigm is shifting to thirty-something rapscallion. Although a girl at work did give me a good reason for turning thirty...you don't have to work as hard at the gym because you don't have to bring your heart rate up as much. Yay for less effort.

celebration time, come on

So the birthday weekend begins. I've got the hair, the dress, the boots...I'm ready to go. Expect drunken blogging throughout the weekend.

fast-track

Holy crap, it's only a matter of DAYS until the big three-oh. What the hell? I remember time coming to a grinding frickin' halt when I was waiting to turn twenty-one. I have to get myself out of this strange ripple in the space-time continuum that makes my impending thirties rush up on me like a homeless person after I've hit an ATM. It seems like only yesterday that I was deluding myself into thinking that a year from my 29th birthday was a long ways away.

ten ways to true love

o Always use the most shallow and superficial criteria for deciding which person you are interested in
o Make sure you choose one of the hottest people in the room
o Make sure that s/he knows s/he's one of the hottest people in the room, a good dose of megalomania is always beneficial
o Choose a person that is either moving out of town within the next few weeks or is already from out of town
o Misinterpret polite interest as true interest
o To ensure the above, be sure to NOT be at your most functional by consuming large quantities of liquor
o Get all up in people's space and make them uncomfortable
o Project an image of who you generally aren't, the overconsumption of alcohol is a big help in this regard
o Don't follow your intuition
o Try too hard and occasionally let the fact that you're feeling needy bleed through.

the great divide

TuI've been feeling very disconnected from people lately. It's almost like there's a short in my system that prevents any real connections from occurring with other people. Certainly there have been a lot of temporary connections, enough to gleen some momentary satisfaction. But it just doesn't feel like enough anymore. The more I experience these shallow connections, the lonelier I start to feel. It's like being incredibly hungry and then eating a handful of something and then just feeling that much hungrier after getting that small taste. And then of course, there's the rejection that goes hand in hand with shorted out connections. It's just all very strange and painful, I'm baffled. I finally stuck a pin through the bubble of self-preservation I made for myself for so many years and watched it explode, but now I almost want it back.

dress you up in my love

There was a line in the movie Mean Girls about girls and Halloween. I can't remember exactly how it goes, but it's something like "Halloween is the time when girls get to dress up like sluts." And it's true. Take any costume and no doubt there is a tarted-up, vaguely whorish version running around. I saw slutty geishas, slutty vampires, slutty nuns even...and then there were the girls that literally dressed up like whores or really cheap looking Victoria Secret models. I'm not sure I get the whole whorish-Halloween phenomenon. What's the appeal? Why do people think they have to be skanky to be sexy? The sexiest guy I saw was completely covered up in a costume that wasn't tight or revealing. And the sexiest girl costume was kind of tight, but not very revealing...but yeah, she needed to take some time off from the tanning bed. But that's another pet-peeve for another post.

happy halloween

This weekend was an intense one. I'm still recovering. The Carrie costume was a success, I was told by several people that it was the best costume of the night. But I didn't get any pictures. The strangest thing by far though was that I had to duct tape my boobs into the dress. I did to my chest what people do to their plumbing. And the craziest thing is that it works.

i'm it

I've been tagged by the fabulous Atomic Bombshell. Not surprisingly, we have many answers in common because as she pointed out a long time ago, we are cosmic twins.
So here goes...
Three ways that I am stereotypically female
1. I heart make-up, especially glittery drag-queen make-up
2. I am very emotional, I cry during commercials
3. I love to shop

Three ways that I am stereotypically male
1. I belch, quite loud, and am not the slightest bit embarrassed by it
2. I always try to give the firmer handshake
3. I will drive around lost for an hour before I stop and ask for directions

Three names I go by
1. Masil
2. Lisa
3. Azure

Three parts of my heritage
1. Korean
2. Cherokee
3. Irish

Three physical things I like about myself
1. My lips and teeth
2. My scars and tattoos, well I don't like one of the tattoos but it'll get fixed at some point
3. My eyes

Three physical things I don't like about myself
1. My lack of a waist and my spare tire
2. My feet, they're very scabby and always have blisters
3. The fact that my boobs will never be described with words like perky

Three things that scare me
1. The idea that I am incapable of happiness
2. Heights
3. Aging

Three of my everyday essentials
1. Ipod
2. Massive amounts of caffeine
3. Sleep, though because of number 2, not nearly as much as I need

Three LIES
1. I have self-esteem
2. I don't regret any of my choices
3. I really don't care what other people think of me

Three TRUTHS
1. My life is one big contradiction
2. I am a good cook
3. I have a really good memory

Three things I want in a relationship
1. Passion
2. Laughter
3. Friendship

Three physical things about men that appeal to me
1. Height
2. Necks
3. Eyes

Three of my favorite hobbies
1. Writing letters that the addressee will never read
2. Exercising
3. Listening to music

Three things I want to do really badly now
1. Fall in love, or at the very least...a deep mutual lust
2. Make more friends
3. Get board certified, the pay raise alone would make it worth it

Three careers I've considered
1. Museum Curator
2. Civil Rights Lawyer
3. Record Store Clerk

Three places I want to go on vacation
1. San Francisco, which has been a desire for a while and not for the reason that some might suspect
2. Brazil
3. China

Three things I want to do before I die
1. Burning Man
2. Start and finish an art project I've been thinking about for years
3. Feel an overall sense of satisfaction with my life

Three celebrity crushes
1. Johnny Depp
2. Jonathan Rhys-Meyers
3. Justin Theroux

ceremonial

I completely forgot to mention that I saw the most random gorgeous thing last night. I was walking my dog after work and there is an empty space down the street where there used to be a vintage store (ie overpriced goodwill). There were people in the store and they were doing some kind of ritual, maybe to get rid of negative energy and bad luck. The ritual was replete with chanting and incense and robes. It was amazing to see and the fact that it was just so...well I already said random didn't I? Sometimes I'm amazed at the things that go on here, mostly because nobody else finds them amazing, I revel in what other people consider banal.

honesty is the poor man's policy

How does that idiom go...honesty has its own rewards? Well, whoever thought of that expression, I need to have a little talk with them. I try to be honest, in fact I try very hard not to lie. Mostly because I'm really good at lying and if I didn't control it, I would be a pathological liar. So today when I went to register my car, I didn't lie and use my mother's address, which I had actually planned on doing. But the guilt of the lie sort of got to me...that is until I found out that I paid an extra $140.00 because I used my address instead of hers. I asked the guy why it was so much more, and he explained it was because of some monorail tax that Seattle citizens pay. I asked him if I would have paid it if I used my mom's address, and he said "But you don't live there." And I said, "But you wouldn't have known that if I had lied to you." Then he went on about karma and my honesty paying off at some point, and I told him that sounded like a bunch of bullshit. But we'll see...maybe my not lying will pay off in the future, with dividends even.

insomnia

What do most people do when they can't sleep and it's three o-clock in the morning? Cyberspace is starting to get a little boring and television is nothing but stupid informercials. So lately, I've been working on exercising the part of my brain that I haven't really been using since I graduated...I've been doing puzzles. I forgot how fun they can be, it's not often that you have to look at the big picture and minute detail all at the same time. This is the one I'm working on now...I've gotten the easy part finished but now all the pieces pretty much look the same.

insomnia

What do most people do when they can't sleep and it's three o-clock in the morning? Cyberspace is starting to get a little boring and television is nothing but stupid informercials. So lately, I've been working on exercising the part of my brain that I haven't really been using since I graduated...I've been doing puzzles. I forgot how fun they can be, it's not often that you have to look at the big picture and minute detail all at the same time. This is the one I'm working on now...I've gotten the easy part finished but now all the pieces pretty much look the same.

dress-up

After some debate, initially deciding between a Catholic school-girl or Madonna circa Immaculate Conception...I've finally hit upon what I'm going to dress up as for Halloween... I've just paid for the dress (an ebay find), the wig, a tiara, and three huge bottles of fake blood (gotta love those Halloween super-stores). Luckily I already have the dirty pillows...

complimentary

Last night I chatted with some people (i.e. drunken conversation with strangers) while I was out and about. And I got the coolest compliment. Normally people compliment me on physical things like my teeth or hair (just like with a horse) and often times the things that come in pairs. But last night a guy told me that he thought it was hot that I was analytical. It was surprising and frankly one of the most flattering things I've heard in a long time.

park and ride

My first apartment drama just unfolded (if you don't count the dumpster diving drug addicts). I get home from work and there is a freakin' car in my reserved spot. So I drive around looking for a space on the street. Of course being the hill, there isn't one within a five block radius and after vainly searching for thirty minutes, I was ready to talk to the manager. I pull up behind my stolen space and go up the manager's apartment to see if she'll let me park somewhere else...but alas, she isn't home. As I'm going back out to my car to put it in the pay lot nearby, she's outside with her friend and telling me that she's going to have ME towed. I explain about the person being in my space and then she proceeds to call to have the other car towed. I felt bad about it, and really I just wanted her to let me take another space for the night. At any rate, the tow truck shows up and the person who's car it is shows up about the same time and luckily nobody got towed. Still I felt like I should pacify the situation, so I talked to the guy and told him I wasn't being vengeful and trying to have him towed and he seemed to take that okay. But I'm still totally paranoid that I'm going to find a brick in my rear window or a bunch of key-gouges that spell out bitch on the hood. And I'm pretty sure I'm not making any friends in this building now.

homeward bound

I just spent the last two days in Lakewood. It was a nice little visit, though I was a little sad that my puppy was so excited to be back there when he is so clearly depressed to be living in the city. Initially I headed down there because of the lack of clean underwear factor, but then as it turned out, my mom was having shoulder surgery so I needed to be down there regardless. She is doing fine, though because she's pretty tiny (which makes the fact that I am an Amazon even more stunning), she was pretty icky-sicky after the anesthesia.

And her doctor was a grade-A, top-notch asshole. I guess since he can't charge the insurance company for a good bedside manner, he didn't feel any compulsion to offer it. I worked for an orthopedic doctor for several years and I hope he didn't treat the families as crappy as this guy. But I DO hope that my mom's doctor's Mercedez gets broken into and set on fire.

My mom was hilarious after the surgery. The minute they pushed her wheelchair to the car, she bounded out of the chair before the transporter could move the leg rests and screamed, "I'm hungry, let's go to the Korean store." And when we got there, she ate with a fork. She's about as bad at fork-eating as many people are with chopstick eating. I ended up putting her food into nice little bit size portions for her to scoop up.

Then I spent the evening with my sister and ate some really good food. I can say, without any hesitation, that yesterday I had the first decent meal I've had since...well since the last time I went to my mom's house. Lots of yummy Korean food was consumed, even a delicious crab soup.And I totally scored a bottle of mommy's little helpers. I guess somehow my mom ended up with two full bottles of the good stuff, so she offered me one. Like the good and filial daughter that I am, I couldn't possibly refuse...it would be a total lack of respect to say no to my mother's generosity. I was only thinking about her feelings when I took them.

Today, I drove my dog down to Olympia to take him to a super special veterinary specialist. I swear, they have some script from vet school that they use to explain medicine use because every single veterarian ophthalmologists Iniki has gone to has said the exact same thing verbatim. It's very strange and getting very repetitive. Maybe I can convince them to mix it up with a hip-hop version or a tap dance.

homeward bound

I just spent the last two days in Lakewood. It was a nice little visit, though I was a little sad that my puppy was so excited to be back there when he is so clearly depressed to be living in the city. Initially I headed down there because of the lack of clean underwear factor, but then as it turned out, my mom was having shoulder surgery so I needed to be down there regardless. She is doing fine, though because she's pretty tiny (which makes the fact that I am an Amazon even more stunning), she was pretty icky-sicky after the anesthesia.
And her doctor was a grade-A, top-notch asshole. I guess since he can't charge the insurance company for a good bedside manner, he didn't feel any compulsion to offer it. I worked for an orthopedic doctor for several years and I hope he didn't treat the families as crappy as this guy. But I DO hope that my mom's doctor's Mercedez gets broken into and set on fire.
My mom was hilarious after the surgery. The minute they pushed her wheelchair to the car, she bounded out of the chair before the transporter could move the leg rests and screamed, "I'm hungry, let's go to the Korean store." And when we got there, she ate with a fork. She's about as bad at fork-eating as many people are with chopstick eating. I ended up putting her food into nice little bit size portions for her to scoop up.
Then I spent the evening with my sister and ate some really good food. I can say, without any hesitation, that yesterday I had the first decent meal I've had since...well since the last time I went to my mom's house. Lots of yummy Korean food was consumed, even a delicious crab soup.And I totally scored a bottle of mommy's little helpers. I guess somehow my mom ended up with two full bottles of the good stuff, so she offered me one. Like the good and filial daughter that I am, I couldn't possibly refuse...it would be a total lack of respect to say no to my mother's generosity. I was only thinking about her feelings when I took them.
Today, I drove my dog down to Olympia to take him to a super special veterinary specialist. I swear, they have some script from vet school that they use to explain medicine use because every single veterarian ophthalmologists Iniki has gone to has said the exact same thing verbatim. It's very strange and getting very repetitive. Maybe I can convince them to mix it up with a hip-hop version or a tap dance.

nightcrawlers

Right this very second, there are crackhead sized raccoons digging through the recycling bins near my window. Well, at least they're industrious. And not creepy like the guy who stood in the bushes of the building next door to mine while I was out walking my dog at midnight.

seattlite

The thing I love most about this city is how deliciously random it is. I'm sure all cities are like that, but for some reason this city just does it for me. I spent ten years running away from Washington, trying to find a home, only to realize that it had been here all along. Okay, again with the digression. I think I need to start carrying around a camera to capture some of the things I see that I find strangely compelling.
Like the other day, walking my dog with my requisite steaming latte, somebody walks past with two half-gallon boxes of ice cream and starts telling everybody she passes, "Hey, there's free ice cream at the Rite Aid." And indeed, out in front of the Rite Aid, there were two huge boxes filled with half-gallon boxes of ice cream. People were elbow deep in the boxes looking for their favorite flavor, telling each other to grab a mint chocolate chip if they saw one.
Today, walking over to the park, I was standing at an intersection waiting for the crosswalk's flashing approval and I look across the way and see a young girl and her baby stopped by a newspaper machine. In the middle of the day, without a care in the world, this girl was graffiting the paper machine. She was just so matter-of-fact about it, like it was the most natural thing in the world to leave her mark on the PI box. When she finished, she straightened up, grabbed the stroller and walked off. I have to admit, I was more than a little impressed. It's one thing to do that in the shadow of night, but at noon on a busy intersection...that's hardcore.

climbing the hill

I think it's pretty clear that I'm going through some kind of existensial aging crisis. And as I've said before, a lot of that is because I did everything backwards. While kids my age were going away to college, doing keg-stands, and skipping classes, I was waking up at 4 am to screaming drill sergeants and getting gassed just so we knew what it felt like (not good, in case you needed to know). While kids my age were just graduating from school, trying to find their first job and apartment, I was settling into a suburban middle-class married lifestyle, sorting through fabric swatches and finding missing pieces to my china set. Then when people my age were looking to settle down on a house and a partner, I went back to school, got divorced, and now with one foot nudged firmly in the door of my thirties, I'm trying to figure out how to proceed from here.So now that I've gone off on a huge tangent. Here I am feeling pretty young, doing the things that young kids do, and I get to work and realize that I am working on the old people's weekend. Nobody I work with is under forty. The other weekend has all the young kids. Yet again I am trapped in this weird middle ground between being young and being grown-up and I just don't know what to make of it. But I know this, the soothing sounds of smooth jazz does not a peppy night make.

mile markers

I just realized that I'm celebrating a milestone tomorrow. It's going to be a strange day, probably involving an emotional rollercoaster ride. Tomorrow, I will have been divorced for exactly one year.

party monster

I'm going to stage an intervention for myself. I simply don't know how much longer this rockstar lifestyle can go on. I totally christened my toilet last night with streetside Polish sausage and then passed out on the bathroom floor in my underwear. However, when I left my house, the plan was to go out to a nice dinner. The road to hell really is paved with good intentions...and fruitylicious martinis.

significant other

Some might say I need a boyfriend for silly things like love, compansionship, a sex life, sharing of emotions and blah blah blah. But I really need one because I need somebody to hold my dog while I run into the grocery store and post office. A boyfriend would cut my errand time in half.

hair of the dog

I don't know who has a richer sense of humor, my fate or my irony. I also don't know how I can promise myself to only stay out for an hour, purposely not take a debit or credit card and only about twenty in cash...and still end up getting drunk and stumbling in at some ungodly hour. I would think it out but my brain is throbbing to some conga beat better suited for Carnivale rather than my cranium.

the new digs

I know you're all desperate to see my new crack-alley apartment...so I took a few pictures because it's 2 am and cyberstalking got boring.
Don't laugh at its lilliputian size.
Just remember, it's not how big it is, it's how you use it.

The bedroom-this is where all the magic happens...and by magic I mostly mean the part that happens in your imagination.

The living room-clearly I am in desperate need of some wall art.

The "office"-well, the corner that the desk fit into at any rate.

My sad, sad little refrigerator, with its second-hand condiments and bread with nothing to put on it.
But at least my little hobbit-sized appliance has some cool magnets.

weighty matters

I don't know exactly how this works in the world of physics, but I'm almost positive that the weights at my new gym are heavier than the weights at my old one. I'm so frikkin' sore from going to the gym for the last three days. I feel like I'm bordering on quadriplegic status here. But the thing is, I didn't lift any more weight than I normally do. I didn't do any more repetitions. I did the same routine I was doing when I left my old gym. I know one measly week off couldn't have taken that big a toll on my endurance.

blue lagoon

Something strange is afoot. My toilet water is blue, it looks like somebody added some tidy-bowl to the tank. I know for a fact that I didn't do it. So does that mean somebody is breaking into my apartment to put cleaning products in my toilet tank? Very strange...

copycat

Just because I'm this close to being in my thirties and single, does that HAVE to mean that my life has to be like an episode of Sex and the City? Last night I found myself being, as Carrie called it, emotionally slutty. I spilled far too many beans, I don't know what came over me... People were asking me personal questions and I didn't play coy or try to change the subject, I actually answered them. I'm wondering if that was the smartest thing to do. A total stranger probably wouldn't want to know your the results of your last pap smear, so why would they want to know intimate, personal things about your life? I think there are games you're supposed to play, and even though everybody says they hate them, they all seem to want to participate in them. This social life thing is going to take some getting used to.Although, it has by far and away increased since the move. It's nice being able to do things on the spur of the moment rather than having to plan days if not weeks in advance. And being able to drive home in fifteen minutes or less...priceless.

let me count the ways

I'm BACK!!! Oh how I missed this place, my little cyber-sanctuary. I almost went to an internet cafe yesterday but I thought I could make it one more day. I just got my internet and I've been spending HOURS going through all of my email. And let me tell you, once I get that bank account information set-up...that guy in Nigeria is going to make me one rich woman! And the deal on Viagra I got, WOW!So, I'm done unpacking. The apartment looks great. The walls however are paper thin, I can hear my upstairs neighbor peeing. And they don't seem to work or sleep, they're always home and always moving around. But I love it here. I love that I can walk everywhere. If I want a coffee, which I do almost every waking minute of the day, there are ten within a one block radius. And it only takes me five minutes to drive to work and I can walk to the gym.Speaking of the gym, do I ever have a story for you. So I signed up for a membership at 24-hr Fitness and you get one free training session. I had an appointment yesterday at 10:00 am. Naturally I was late, particularly since I didn't roll out of bed until 9:40 because I've been sick and had consumed half a bottle of Nyquil the night before. I get to the gym and ask for John, my trainer, and I'm waiting and waiting and this person walks up and I'm thinking, "Oh, that must be John, I think he's a trannie" because John was very manly looking but with some feminine features. A guy who works at the desk asks me if I need anything, so I point to John and say, "Yeah, I think I'm waiting for him." And he goes, "Oh, you have an appointment with Marybeth (or some girl name)." I was MORTIFIED! I mumbled something about just waking up and taking too much medicine, but I could feel my face heating up. How embarrassing, I felt like such the country mouse at that moment.