if we took a holiday

***Long-winded post forthcoming*** After five lovely days of mini-holiday, I guess I have to return to that dull and monotonous thing known as "real-life." I had a lovely time on vacay, we started out by going to Whistler BC for a few days where much hot-tubbing was had and the area of sunburned skin was increased. On the way, we stopped by this cafe for a much needed caffeine injection and a light dinner. It was a cool place, one corner was a yarn store where lads and ladies were hanging out in a knitting circle. The other half was a cafe where an acoustic open mike night was being held and the spirits of Melissa Etheredge and Sheryl Crow were being manifested. Then on the way home, we stopped by Vancouver BC (not to be confused with Vancouver WA, known for nuclear energy sites and lots of people with seven toes on one foot) where I got to spend time with my sister by spirit, Jessica and her awesome wife Anne. We went to this super-funky sushi joint called The Eatery. The decor was great and they had these weird super-hero, anime-ish, kewpie dolls wearing black spankies and red boots...somehow, someway I am going to find out who those little guys are. Next, the long drive back to Seattle, where instead of going home, we rushed over to The Element to see an epic set by James Holden. Even in my state of sheer exhaustion, I managed to rock out. But it can't all be candy-covered roses soaked in champagne. While at The Element, I saw two of the people who were unwittingly involved in the weekend that I really feel changed the course of my current life. Seeing them made me have two responses on polar sides of the emotional spectrum. One was shock and feeling like somebody just shoved a boulder into my stomach. I simultaneously hoped they wouldn't remember me and hoped that we would talk so they could see that I wasn't the person they had met in October. I wanted them to recognize that that person was a distorted version of who I was and it was unfortunate that they met me at a time when that version dominated my life. By the end of the night, we hadn't interacted and I don't (and won't) know if they just didn't remember me or they avoided me. But either way I was okay with that. Mostly because the other emotional response I had was that when I saw them, though mortified, I also realized that I had moved past that seriously fucked up time in my life. I'm stronger in so many ways and my life has improved tremendously and seeing those people was a complete affirmation of that. All of that and we haven't even gotten to the weekend. Saturday was spent with new friends, celebrating the lives of the seven people killed at the blue house. It started off by a day-long celebration at the Seattle Center, where the ubiquitous rain forced the event indoors to the food court. It was a melange of families spending the day together and candy-ravers. The energy of the place was great, you rarely go wrong when people come together to celebrate the lives of others by sharing music, circus acts, dancing, and girls in corsets walking around on stilts. That night, more time spent with new friends and break-corp...a musical style that I don't think I will ever learn to appreciate. But that's probably for the best, I've already lost enough hearing. Sunday was unofficially declared the day of recovery. My m.o. is to have massive weekends and then lose time and miss what inevitably end up being gorgeous Seattle days. But I still managed to accomplish a few tasks; including picking up my baby, who had a glorious time at my brother's place where he was able to play with his cousins (human, canine, and feline) and had a yard to cavort in and lots of butts to sniff. And I got to eat at a Capital Hill institution, The Honeyhole, which by the way I thought was a completely different kind of place when I first moved here. I had a reuben, thanks to Katie I can no longer pass up the opportunity to eat a reuben, even though, as Devin says, it's total gutbomb food. But my permanent state of diet and starvation went on vacay too, so it's all good. Blah blah blah, and more blah blah blah...now it's Monday and I have to unpack and get back to doing all the mundane things that make you appreciate vacations. And this was a good one, it was an opportunity to reiterate the fact that my life is full of love and friendship and beautiful people and fun and passion and other indications of descriptive corniness that make you want to gag a little.

freeze tag

"Six Weird Habits and/or Strange Things About Myself..."
1. I can write legibly (in print and in cursive), draw, and pick things up with my foot. It's a fun party trick.
2. I have had the same wart on my pinky finger since I was sixteen years old.
3. I haven't eaten eggs as a meal since I was about five years old. But I'll eat things dipped in eggs sometimes...I can rationalize that by convincing myself it's just a binder for the breading and therefore you can't really taste the egg.
4. I have a weird belly-button. I had a hernia when I was a baby that had to be surgically repaired and they sewed my belly button up so that it's all puckered. And hard to clean.
5. I've never lived in one place for longer than four years.
6. I often wish that I had a tail. And not like a dog or cat tail, but a spider-monkey tail. It would HAVE to be a spider-monkey tail.

prolific

I got my very first sunburn of the season yesterday. YAY FOR SUMMER PREVIEWS!!! No, seriously...YAY, I'm stoked that summer is just around the corner. Most people are surprised that I sunburn. In fact yesterday I heard, "Wow, you're like a white-girl!" and "I didn't think you could because of...you know...your type of skin and all." and my personal pet-fucking peeve, "Oh, I'm surprised, I didn't think people of your nationality got sun-burned." ARGGHHHHH! Now, I know most of the people who come here and smart enough to know better...but dammit there IS a difference between nationality, ethnicity, and race. I don't know why being a U.S. citizen would have any relation to my ability or inability to sunburn. GARRRRR!

recognition

HAPPY LAB WEEK! This means for one week out of fifty-two, we'll get free popcorn and sodie-pop to remind us that being the designated hospital asshole isn't ALWAYS so bad.

fight club

I have a very small mental filter and I'm pretty open about my life and its goings-on (I DO have a blog for crying out loud). Yesterday, I realized though that often I tell people things because I need to be reassured that my reactions and feelings about things aren't crazy or completely irrational. So I told three people the same story about something that happened this weekend. The first person thought I was a little crazy and irrational (but that's because she's dead inside)...but the next two people were like, "(*rapid intake of breath*) Oh my god, she said what?!? (*indignant pause*) And he did what?!?! (*tongue clucking*) Of course you were upset sweetie, I would be too! And THEN what happened!?!? (*dramatic pause*) NOOOOOOO!!!!" And then I felt a lot better because my behavior doesn't seem quite as inappropriate when everybody is agreeing with me. Of course that could just mean that I also surround myself by hyperreactive drama-queens who lie well enough that I believe them when they say I'm not being insane, but that seems pretty a-okay too.

tease

Oh Mother Nature, why do you mock me? Knowing I work every other weekend, why must you make the weather so glorious on the days I have to spend the day in the third pit of hell? Is it because I used to use toxic weed killer on my sidewalk because I was too lazy to dig them out? Whatever it is, I'm sorry. Please let me have a good weather stretch on my days off. And on a vaguely related note, for some strange reason, the maintenace people changed all the lightbulbs in the factory of bodily fluid doom known as my job recently. It is so freaking BRIGHT down there now. And that would be good if it wasn't that barfugly fluorescent lighting like they use in dressing rooms at Wal-mart, you know...the kind that somehow manages to make you look peaked and at the same time exaggerate the grooves and contours of each and every ass dimple you have. I think they thought it would perk us up, but really all it did was make us feel cagey and paranoid. We're like those creepy lab-testing rodents now, though that actually may have been the point.

resurface

During my final years of high school, I hung out with a rag-tag bunch of misfits lovingly nicknamed The Splinter Group by our English teacher (though I can't remember what book that name came from). Throughout the years the five of us fell in and out of touch, as happens with most era specific friends. Before I moved back to Washington permanently, four of us made an annual effort to see one another. But one of us, well after about 1999...nobody knew what had happened to her, as far as we knew she had completely fallen off of the face of the earth. I would often contemplate going to the house she lived in during school to see if her parents still lived there, and maybe then find out what had happened to her. But I think I was always a little afraid that it would be bad news...so I never did, avoidance often seems like the better option. Then yesterday, Kanani writes to me to tell me that she found Amy on MySpace of all places and I've already gotten a message from her. It's mindboggling to think that somebody who I haven't heard from in over seven years was just waiting to be found on some sliver of cyberspace.

hard to do

I've been thinking about that song, "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do." Mostly because I think I might have to break up with somebody who has a fair amount of importance in my life. We haven't shared a lot of time together, but it has been quality time, time I've really appreciated. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I think I'm making a HUGE mistake. You see, I might be breaking up with my stylist and I'm almost convinced that the hair-stylist breakup is harder than any other type of breakup. And it's going to be an even harder thing than usual because her girlfriend just moved into my building and I see her all the time. In fact, last night we had a conversation about my hair looking scraggly, being stuck in ponytail mode, and my needing to come in and get something done with it. But the thing is...on Friday, I'm totally going to be cheating on her, I'm trying out a new guy. And for the worst reasons, he's cheaper, I don't have to go as far since he does hair down the block from me, and several of my friends go to him. So not only am I a lazy tightwad...but I'm a follower too.

puppy power

My poor little Iniki, the last two nights in a row he's had petite mal seizures in the middle of the night. It's so sad to watch because there's nothing you can do and he just lays there drooling and twitching. And then when it's all done, he must feel guilty for having made a mess because he tries to lick up his drool. It's heart-breaking. He's such the little champ!

blue monday

I'm trying to have some perspective about the shortness of weekends. I keep trying to tell myself that a hundred years ago, people worked six-seven days a week for twelve to fourteen hours a day. So by comparison, my five day week of a measly eight hours shouldn't seem that bad. But my headache compounded with exhaustion are telling me something completely different. Then the question becomes, was it worth it? Does the time I got to spend with my friends and mah fella (who I won't get everybody all gaggy about by gushing) and yet another awesome Creme make it all worth it? And I leave you with the only response possible to that question...hell yeah!

yearly

Why does the word anniversary have to have the whole flowers and champagne connotation? Not all anniversaries are fun and happy. Some anniversaries are annual pilgramages to the place called inner turmoil and the land of regret. So to hell with Cadbury eggs and plastic grass.

revolution

Got this quiz over at Hopelessly Average. What Famous Leader Are You?

good vibes

I love my extended network of friends and acquaintances. There is just something so rewarding about going somewhere and being greeted with warm hugs and big genuine smiles. Even though I rarely have the opportunity to spend time with my friends because of my schedule, I cherish whatever time I do get with them. Especially when I'm a little snockered.

happenstance

I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason, I rarely chalk things up to coincidence (I get a little spacey like that sometimes). Therefore, the fact that in a city the size of Seattle, in the middle of the day, while taking my dog on his daily walk, less than 48 hours after the revelation...I fucking walk across the EXACT SAME girl the post below is talking about...well, it's got me curious.

ugly head

I don't know that I'm a really jealous person. I mean, I don't think I'm any more or any less jealous than the next person, despite my insecurities. Jealousy is such a strange thing at any rate, you never know when it's going to strike or who will inspire it for that matter. I got jealous last night. If you've been following this blog, you'll remember that I chased my fella for a while and one time witnessed him making out with some girl...who he then went on a few dates with and at some point she decided she didn't want to continue whatever it was they were doing. But recently, she's come back and has been emailing him and wanting to "hang out" again...as friends of course (picture skeptical raised eyebrow and lip raising). And I guess he said yes, they could hang out as friends (picture completely raised eyebrows and mouth in a tight little grimace). And I am a little upset and jealous about it. Actually, I think it's a little disrespectful, which is the main motivation for my jealousy and feeling upset. I don't have any issues with his other relationships with people of the female variety, but this situation is maddening. And I don't know how to deal with it...or with myself for having these feelings.

prix fix

Why did I spend more money on my cup of coffee than the super yum bran muffin I ate this morning? Doesn't it seem a little wrong to spend more on something that offers little to no nutritional value, is probably bad for your overall health, and just makes you feel gacked out?

townhall

Yesterday, I went to a memorial and community meeting regarding the shootings at the blue house. It was really amazing to see all of the community support. I find it interesting how tragedy binds a community together moreso than anything else. The community meeting was surprisingly supportive as well. I had anticipated a lot of victim-blaming and pointing fingers at the electronic music scene, the presumption of drug abuse, blah blah blah...but it wasn't at all like that. I truly feel that it was because the mayor and community leaders stood up in the beginning and stated repeatedly that they separated the "scene" from the actions of one individual. Had they not made such a bold statement from the onset, the meeting probably would have had a completely different tone. Particularly considering the discussions I had overheard before the meeting started from a group of women whose compassion clearly didn't extend beyond their white picket fences and/or to anybody who doesn't fit into their idealized notion of acceptably normal. Their asshattery just made me feel jaded. But luckily they were the minority and it made me really glad I live in a progressive city like Seattle where acting police chiefs and community leaders take stands on gun control (stands that I support clearly) and supporting non-mainstream communities.

********

Yesterday, seven people were killed in a shooting spree at a party in Seattle. I heard about it fairly early when my sister called me to see if I had been to any parties the night before. I hadn't, but what's scary is that I've been to a party at that particular house before. I have spent a little time with some of the people who live there. And my fella, sadly knew at least one of the people killed and some of his very good friends were very close with him. Not surprisingly, the news immediately latched on the the fact that it was "ravers" at the party and are trying to associate the tragedy with the party culture. Which is stupid. That would be like blaming people for wanting a hamburger when some mentally unbalanced person decides to shoot up a restaurant. It's just an incredibly sad situation and the fact that it's affecting people I care about...sometimes the world just feels irreversibly fucked.

out of sight, out of mind

Why do we let our insecurities and irrational mental baggage get in the way of enjoying the moment? While I know that two people can never have the same level of interest in one another at the same time, I still do the freak out when I feel like I'm the one with the scales of interest in the other hanging heavily in my corner. And this stupid battle between my rational, thinking self and my irrational, feeling self is flaming the fires of my anxiety. Not that any of this is unique or new. I've been around this dancefloor before; but it has been quite a while and I am definitely feeling like I've got two left feet and no sense of rhythm. What particularly sucks though is when I realize that I am doing things to act out that nobody could pick up on because they are old habits from the past that managed to stow themselves away like a hobo riding the rails of my old hangups. Ahhh well, I just have to keep reminding myself that this is the price for the moments I'm enjoying.

whoah

This is funny for so many reasons... Your True Love Is a Capricorn Why you'll love a Capricorn: Hard working and driven, a Capricorn will work overtime to win your heart. Be prepared to get wined and dined, even once you're convince that your Capricorn is the one! Why a Capricorn will love you: You don't rush things. You know it will take a while for a Capricorn to trust you, and you can wait. Social and outgoing, you can introduce normally shy Capricorn to a great circle of friends. What Sign Is Your True Love?

v for veritable brilliance

I don't often gush about movies but V for Vendetta is probably one of the best movies I have seen in a long time. Not only was it overtly political and critical of government and media, morality, intolerance...but it was beautifully shot and wonderfully acted (well except for Natalie Portman's often craptastic accent). Stephen Rea was brilliant and whoever played V, stupifyingly awesomely amazing. My favorite part was the five minute alliteration in the beginning of the film...ahhh, so incredible. Great great movie. I highly highly recommend.

time and a place

When I went to the ER on Tuesday to have my strep confirmed (since I don't have a regular doctor), a girl came in with a bunch of her friends and the police. It became pretty clear pretty quickly what had happened to her. But the strangest thing was how it was all handled. They didn't take her back to a private room right away, she sat out there for quite a while. And the police officers were questioning her friends right in the waiting room of the ER, right in front of myself and my friend. And they were also questioning her friends right in front of her. I really can't think of anything more inappropriate and unprofessional. I tried really hard not to be an ear hustler, I made a serious effort not to get sucked in to watching the whole thing play out like some episode of Law & Order SVU, but it was really difficult when they were standing not more than fifteen feet away from me and not really trying very hard to be discreet. I can't imagine what it would have been like if there were more people there and they weren't trying not to notice what was going on. It was appalling how insensitively it was handled and whenever stuff like that happens, it makes me really wonder why people are surprised that most women don't report rapes.

mono-phile

I don't have mono...instead I have a raging case of strep-throat. And a few more days off of work.

s.o.s.

I promise, I'm still alive. But barely. A mono exposure might have finally come to fruition. But the good news is, I am no longer just "hanging out" with my new fella...we have moved up in the ladder of ambiguous relationship status and are now "going out." And he met my sister. So, there's that too.

annual gush

So exactly one year and several hours ago, I moved back to Washington. It's been an amazing year actually. I've gone through some of the most profound changes of my youngish life. Some I had no control over like sliding head first (with no head protection) into my thirties. Some changes were consciously implemented like finally allowing myself to deal with some fairly difficult things that I had stuffed into a catachasm of perpetual avoidance. I started to truly live on my own for the first time, I finally accepted full responsibility for the life I'm making for myself. In the process, I've realized that I have the capacity to love myself as a whole, which made loving other people better and more rewarding. And I'm lucky to have so many wonderful people in my life to love, my family, my great friends, my gentleman friend... Despite my fickleness, flair for the dramatic, and often unexpressed appreciation, I'm in a very good stage in my life and coming back to Seattle was one of the best decisions I've made.

update

Though I haven't REALLY figured anything out for sure...it appears that one of the bitter middle-aged porcine human stains I work with was responsible for the whole changing of the myspace. I asked one of my friends to do a little detective work to find out who it was. Although I have a strong suspicion I know who did it. And if it turns out to be her...well then I probably won't do anything but think about mean things to do to her in retribution.

guttural

Body: Type your FIRST REACTION when you hear these 35 words:

1. I need: sleep
2. Sex: from what I remember, is pretty fun
3. Relationships: make my brain hurt
4. Your Last Ex: just bought a house
5. Power: corrupts
6. Marijuana: is a sign that god is a woman
7. Crack: should be kept in your pants and not your pipe
8. Food: should be cooked
9. This President: should have OD'ed in the 80s
10. War: for oil and corporate cronyism is FUCKED!
11. Cars: shouldn't be bigger than a boat
12. Gas Prices: are much cheaper outside of the city
13. Halloween: is the best holiday EVER!
14. Politics: is where evil congregates
15. Religion: is used to justify intolerance
16. MySpace: got me in trouble at work
17. Worst Fear: rejection
18. Marriage: only comes as a pass/fail option
19. Fashion: makes me happy, except for some 80s revival shit.
20. Brunettes: are better
21. Redheads: get freckly
22: Work: is giving me an ulcer
23: Pass the time: pass the dutchie
24: Football: is boring
25:One night Stands: should be reserved for being out of town
26: Pet Peeve: speling erorrs
27: Pixie Stix: are a gateway drug
28: Vanilla Ice: don't hate. You know you liked him.
29: Porta Potties: stink like poo.
30: High school: is a distant, suppressed memory
31: Pajamas: are super comfy
32. Wood: better with Viagra
33. Surfers: have nice tans
34. Pictures: better in black and white
35. First Love: is a lot like hindsight.

message in a bottle

I am seriously starting to hate my job. Not only are the supervisors seriously underlaid micromanagers with poor social skills...but the corporate bullshit is almost more than I can stand. I totally got busted using the internet at work last night. And I'm not sure how. I guess they have all of the internet connections monitored or something because somehow they broke into my myspace account and changed some of the settings. Which is fucking bullshit. They totally hacked my account. I can't even imagine what would have happened if I had been checking my bank account...would they have been able to access that as well? Stupid corporate dicks. This combined with the fact that studying for my registry exam is not going very well, plus the fact that I am starting to really dislike at least forty percent of the people I work with (though I'm still deciding if assholes are attracted to lab work or the lab turns people in assholes)...I think these are signs that I should start looking for a new line of work.

futuristic

Last night at work, I got a glimpse of my future and it was not good. It apparently has really bad hair and an annoying laugh and the tired look of resignation.

gesture life

*blush**giggle*...I got a two-fer the other day, a surprise and irises, flowers that are second in my heart only to the orchid. *le sigh*

so bad

I love a good cheese-fest, I really do. Some of my favorite movies are awesomely bad, like Showgirls. But last night I watched the most craptastic movie, Ultraviolet. Oh man, it was BAD. The shameful thing was that it had potential to be way cooler. Before watching the movie, we talked with this guy who was seeing the movie for the second time and he said that if we treated the movie like a fashion glossy then it would be a good. But that was a lie. The fx were bad too. There was even a fight scene that reminded me of Flashdance, in that the stunt double was clearly somebody else. But the one redeeming thing about the movie was that they had a great wardrobe with cool accessories, sci-fi movies that obviously reference Christianity always seem to have kick-ass wardrobes.

re-rearing

Jealousy...that strange and fickle emotion has been playing its little groundhog game again, popping up its head and checking for a shadow, deciding whether or not to stick around and cause trouble. I loathe when I feel myself going down a predictable emotional path, especially when that path inevitably ends up being chalked up to to some emotional predisposition associated with my reproductive organs. In other words, I am being such a fucking girl right now. And that's just plain annoying.

broken record

So I've had a singular thought running through my head for the last twenty-four hours. Is it better to cut yourself off at the knees and be a little disappointed now or try and follow through on something and run the risk of being hurt later? Thoughts?

thai'd up

OH THE HUMANITY! After-work drinks and food cooked to a very high temperatue Thai pu-pu platters available at a super low late night happy hour prices make for a very uncomfortable morning after. My head hurts, my tongue is seriously burned badly enough to have blisters and a white coating (though that could be from the drinking...), and I TOTALLY drunk dialed last night. I haven't done that in a long while actually, not since I first moved back out here and reintroduced myself to the "party scene." But I drunk dialed, and I'm this close to being mortified...but it's making my headache worse. Maybe when I wake up again.

between insomnia and insanity

It's four am and I am completely awake. I've spent at least the last two hours tossing and turning, hoping that the sleep fairy will at least mistakenly drop by with a little fairy dust (and seriously, I'm just hoping for fairy dust...or at least a flippin' Ambien). But I hope in vain because I'm awake, wide awake, and mostly because I had a nightmare. It was fit for a Hideo Nakata movie, or at least a cheap American rip-off. Although, embarassingly enough, myspace totally made an appearance in the nightmare, I guess my addiction is complete...damn TOM!!!. Besides that, in my very own nightmare, where I get to subconsiously write the script, I was a total horror movie bimbo...too dumb to figure out the simplest things like "don't open the door, don't go upstairs, don't go running in the woods without your bra and in high heels!" Except in this dream it was more like, "close the internet browser you dumb whore!" And also in my dream, Microsoft Windows sucked just as much ass as it does in reality because it wouldn't work properly on my dreamscape computer either.

I am convinced that parking garages were developed to bring out latent stupidity in people.

one tequila, two tequila

HAPPY CINCO DE MAYO!!! IE-Yet another appropriated holiday turned into yet another reason for people to get shitty drunk. You Are a Lemon Margarita Sour, tangy, and overpowering, you tend to give people a jolt back into reality. While you don't sugar coat things, you're honest - which is actually quite refreshing. What Flavor Margarita Are You?

tax man

Being sick is often a blessing in disguise. I was exposed to various contagions throughout the week, Seattle is having the worst funky flu season this year. I could feel my body trying really hard to not get sick, but by Friday I was definitely noticing the whole "feeling like poo" thing peaking. So I cancelled all of my weekend plans, including a visit from some Canucks who I have been missing like crazy. And I finally got a decent amount of rest, in the last two days I managed to get at least twenty hours of sleep. And I got to take a bath, a real bath with rose scented bubbles. And I somehow rested enough to develop the motivation to do my taxes and take care of other financial headaches I'd been avoiding...and I cleaned my apartment, to include DUSTING! So thanks to the disease carriers in my life, unwittingly they helped me out. And if I do develop mono, well losing those last fifteen pounds will be a whole lot easier.

throwing the baby out with the bath water

We all have really strange patterns of behavior, particularly when it comes to how we interact with other people. And some patterns are probably positive and well-intentioned. But let's face it, we completely focus on the shitty patterns...the things we do to scare a person away or freak them out a little bit. And even though I'm trying very hard NOT to indulge myself in my internal script on how to make myself crazier than usual because now I can involve somebody else in my mania...it just happens so quickly and easily, like putting on a super-comfy pair of sweats with the threadbare knees and jagged hems. I blame my brain, overly analytical and far too cerebral. I can never let those stupid sleeping dogs lie; I just have to poke poke poke at them until they wake up. So when you introduce somebody else with the same penchant for poking and analyzing every situation to death...well, it's doesn't seem like such a good thing. Except that it really is a good thing, which makes me really REALLY not want to not overthink it. But dammit those sweats sure feel good.

celebrate

I think I might have the best bizarre holiday on my birthday EVER!

November 9th is CHAOS NEVER DIES DAY! It couldn't be more appropriate if I made it up myself.

first timer

How long have I been in Seattle? Five months now? Not too long a period of time I suppose, so it maybe it's not altogether that strange that up until yesterday I had managed to NOT take any form of public transportation. A friend of mine invited me to a talk by an awesome woman speaking at the University last night. She was a total radical feminist union-organizing Harvard professor. Listening to her made me really miss being in school, really miss my gender studies classes. But to get to see her, we decided it was probably best if I took the bus. Apparently, the homeless and/or some manner of substance of abuse addict community in Seattle love to ride the buses. And they bring their own brand of funky along for the ride. I sat next to some guy, who reeked of stale cigarettes, alcoholism, and a lack of deodorant. He literally made me a gag a few times. But otherwise it wasn't bad.

hoop dreams

Who said hula-hooping isn't a contact sport?



The picture you are looking at above is my hip area viewed from the side (the pink on the left is my shirt, the white on the right is my belt). The big purple area is a bruise that is about the size of a basketball player's hands. And seriously, I got this massive and painful bruise hula-hooping for about an hour. Apparently, using the hula hoop wrapped in constatine wire is a BAD idea.

dead presidents

When I volunteer to work extra, like on holidays and such...it seems like a good idea at the time. But today, on this day of our presidents, after a weekend full of debauchery and good times...I really wish I had the day off.
On a completely unrelated note, this picture hangs on the walls of the hospital I work in. Now, I'm don't claim to be an art expert, so I won't even begin to try to glean the meaning behind this guy. But I will say, the first time I saw it, I stopped dead in my tracks to get a better look. Good show mister artist...good show

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?

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It's snowing!