halloween candy is for losers.
especially candy corn.
and i am a loser.
with orange and yellow syrup dripping from my chin.
can we discuss my meals for halloween and all saints day?
because i know that what i eat is paramount to your survival.
Halloween:
almond joy bar
100,000 grand bar
multitudinous handfuls of candy corn
snickers bar
5 mini peppermint patti's
3 fireballs
4 diet dr. peppers
2 gobstoppers
bowl of all-bran with fruit
tangelo
10 french fries
6 packs of smarties
granola bar
2 spoonfuls peanut butter
at tennis Halloween night, i couldn't see the ball and missed at least 4 balls by a 2 foot margin.
nice
All Saint's Day: (when i pledged to not eat to make up for halloween)
1 pkg bottle caps
2 bags peanut m&m's
3 mini snickers
2 mini dark milky ways
1 mini peppermint patti
3/4 cup edamame
1/3 apple
some ham with mustard
8 spoofuls of peanut butter
and now i'm drinking a beer.
and i'm going to target to buy halloween candy on sale.
i covet the shape of pumpkins.
11.01.2006
10.31.2006
men are from mars
a friend and i were waxing philosophical today about how much being a grown up really sucks. like how you can't buy a pair of $380 boots without some husband looking at you like you want to starve his children (even if you don't have any yet). although i AM divorced, i can still muster some sympathetic, "i know"s and "aint that the truth"s in response to the right brain/left & brain saver/spender conflict that plagues most marriages.
mmmmmm...
spending good.
look.
sometimes a new pair of boots is just better than contributing to your 403b.
and sometimes eating ramen noodles for 6 days is worth it to have a pair of jeans that makes your ass look slammin on a saturday night
(although with the fat and carb content of ramen noodles, my ass looks more like ham than slam... the fatty ham in a can, but less well shaped).
point being.
sharing your life with someone else can be a bitch, somedays.
and growing up sucks.
being 30 is absolutely phenomenal in terms of telling my dad to kiss my ass when he tries to tell me EXACTLY how to chop the celery at thanksgiving, but outrageously frustrating in terms of looking at another human being as the ONLY human being i will ever share a checkbook with again.
i'm not sure that the philosophy of sharing made much of a lasting impression on me in kindergarten. i definitely got nap, mine, and the alphabet... but sharing.
no way jose.
and what's up with halloween sucking, the older we get. unless you are an "i dream of genie" (which by the way is the most tired way of getting away with wearing your panties in public), most don't get a costume.
i think three people got mine.
and yes- i somehow got a real lampshade over my ginormous boobs and down to my waist.
check it out
mmmmmm...
spending good.
look.
sometimes a new pair of boots is just better than contributing to your 403b.
and sometimes eating ramen noodles for 6 days is worth it to have a pair of jeans that makes your ass look slammin on a saturday night
(although with the fat and carb content of ramen noodles, my ass looks more like ham than slam... the fatty ham in a can, but less well shaped).
point being.
sharing your life with someone else can be a bitch, somedays.
and growing up sucks.
being 30 is absolutely phenomenal in terms of telling my dad to kiss my ass when he tries to tell me EXACTLY how to chop the celery at thanksgiving, but outrageously frustrating in terms of looking at another human being as the ONLY human being i will ever share a checkbook with again.
i'm not sure that the philosophy of sharing made much of a lasting impression on me in kindergarten. i definitely got nap, mine, and the alphabet... but sharing.
no way jose.
and what's up with halloween sucking, the older we get. unless you are an "i dream of genie" (which by the way is the most tired way of getting away with wearing your panties in public), most don't get a costume.
i think three people got mine.
and yes- i somehow got a real lampshade over my ginormous boobs and down to my waist.
check it out
10.22.2006
10.15.2006
oh happy day
today i saw little miss sunshine. i'm going to buy it when it comes out on dvd in lieu of looking for old family 8mm.
ummmm- who the fuck was following my family around in the 1980's.
because down to pushing the vw bus with a jacked clutch,
the obsession with philosophy,
a color blind brother whose dreams of pilothood crash and burn,
stark raving child beauty pageants,
and the suicidal sibling of a parent...
that was all me.
the only thing they didn't get right was the heroined grandfather...
mine just kicked the family poodle down the basement stairs.
ummmm- who the fuck was following my family around in the 1980's.
because down to pushing the vw bus with a jacked clutch,
the obsession with philosophy,
a color blind brother whose dreams of pilothood crash and burn,
stark raving child beauty pageants,
and the suicidal sibling of a parent...
that was all me.
the only thing they didn't get right was the heroined grandfather...
mine just kicked the family poodle down the basement stairs.
10.14.2006
octoberfest
I trace lines in a calendar’s geometry,
the ink in tandem with my desire.
So begins the month of anniversaries.
Somewhere in the black lines,
She reaches the end of her driveway,
Steps out of the car and is compelled to walk
Again through the storm door, past the dog
To turn the dial of the electric stove, again.
Making sure that what she is home will still be
When she returns. Another grasps the handle
Of a door with her ring finger and thumb,
Securing the brass smoothly within her prints, aware
Of things that i can't see. And a small click
In her chest allows her to breathe.
And he keeps the concrete floor wiped
And all things in the place that is their place
Lining up bottles on the counter,
Sentries that battle whatever is at war
With vitamin b, zinc, and the herb that requires we remember.
Decks of cards,
Pencils in drawers,
And sugar packets
I place in rows
Like sunflowers in a Missouri field,
Remembering the moment I knew it,
The hour I said it,
And the minute I did it.
Arranging April 18th, August 28th,
And the coldest night of October
In the home of a woman
Who carefully moves food around her plate.
the ink in tandem with my desire.
So begins the month of anniversaries.
Somewhere in the black lines,
She reaches the end of her driveway,
Steps out of the car and is compelled to walk
Again through the storm door, past the dog
To turn the dial of the electric stove, again.
Making sure that what she is home will still be
When she returns. Another grasps the handle
Of a door with her ring finger and thumb,
Securing the brass smoothly within her prints, aware
Of things that i can't see. And a small click
In her chest allows her to breathe.
And he keeps the concrete floor wiped
And all things in the place that is their place
Lining up bottles on the counter,
Sentries that battle whatever is at war
With vitamin b, zinc, and the herb that requires we remember.
Decks of cards,
Pencils in drawers,
And sugar packets
I place in rows
Like sunflowers in a Missouri field,
Remembering the moment I knew it,
The hour I said it,
And the minute I did it.
Arranging April 18th, August 28th,
And the coldest night of October
In the home of a woman
Who carefully moves food around her plate.
10.01.2006
rocky top
man, there's nothin like a stadium full of orangely-clad people and a vol thrashin' to put one out of her misery.
oh- add a few cocktails (cause they always help)
and peanuts (we've made up)
good times.
good times, man.
the irony of it all.
of course in a stadium of 60000 people, my ex-inlaws were 12 rows down by the only exit.
nice.
i gotta start volunteering at the mission.
oh- add a few cocktails (cause they always help)
and peanuts (we've made up)
good times.
good times, man.
the irony of it all.
of course in a stadium of 60000 people, my ex-inlaws were 12 rows down by the only exit.
nice.
i gotta start volunteering at the mission.
9.25.2006
veni vidi vici
just home from of montreal
observation #1:
they kick ass.
and i love of montreal covering the peaches, but ending on a cover song?
not sure how i feel about that.
i'm more of a "wrap it up with your own balls showing" kind of girl.
observation #2:
i am attracted to skinny white boys wearing daisy dukes and cherry red pirate half shirts; although just for looks not for love.
i plan to discuss this in therapy- when i finally go get some.
observation #3:
polarity is a bitch-
want to guess how many short, fat, bald guys were stalking me at the show?
hey! one was enough.
realization #473 of this calendar year:
the GRE will eat me because it recognzes my polarity in the baron's diganostic test that preps reading comp through a passage about magma and plate subduction.
trust me; it all connects.
observation #1:
they kick ass.
and i love of montreal covering the peaches, but ending on a cover song?
not sure how i feel about that.
i'm more of a "wrap it up with your own balls showing" kind of girl.
observation #2:
i am attracted to skinny white boys wearing daisy dukes and cherry red pirate half shirts; although just for looks not for love.
i plan to discuss this in therapy- when i finally go get some.
observation #3:
polarity is a bitch-
want to guess how many short, fat, bald guys were stalking me at the show?
hey! one was enough.
realization #473 of this calendar year:
the GRE will eat me because it recognzes my polarity in the baron's diganostic test that preps reading comp through a passage about magma and plate subduction.
trust me; it all connects.
9.19.2006
revisionist theory
So last night was a little bit of tae bo with the roomie,
followed by yoga.
after that, a trip to kroger.
then i watched studio 60.
now i knew that i would like anything done by aaron sorkin, but what i didn't know is that watching this show would revise the way i had considered my life.
you see, i used to lay around from about 4:30pm (aka the minute i got home from work) until around 10 watching the west wing on bravo. i thought i was depressed.
well,
turns out
that aaron sorkin just kicks that much ass.
and now so does studio 60.
and the final song of the episode...
well. under pressure by queen.
doesn't get much better.
followed by yoga.
after that, a trip to kroger.
then i watched studio 60.
now i knew that i would like anything done by aaron sorkin, but what i didn't know is that watching this show would revise the way i had considered my life.
you see, i used to lay around from about 4:30pm (aka the minute i got home from work) until around 10 watching the west wing on bravo. i thought i was depressed.
well,
turns out
that aaron sorkin just kicks that much ass.
and now so does studio 60.
and the final song of the episode...
well. under pressure by queen.
doesn't get much better.
9.17.2006
summerteeth
i had never heard the term summerteeth until this summer.
it's not very nice.
but i like it.
anyway, wilco is playing in louisville, ky on sunday night october 8th,
and i got excited because i like wilco.
and my life has become a stagnant mosquito swamp.
so i thought i'd spice it up by bidding on ebay for the wilco tickets.
before i realized that louisville is 3 hours away.
and i have no nashville friends who like wilco.
so now i have 2 tickets to see wilco in lousiville, ky,
and no one to go with.
sweet.
it's not very nice.
but i like it.
anyway, wilco is playing in louisville, ky on sunday night october 8th,
and i got excited because i like wilco.
and my life has become a stagnant mosquito swamp.
so i thought i'd spice it up by bidding on ebay for the wilco tickets.
before i realized that louisville is 3 hours away.
and i have no nashville friends who like wilco.
so now i have 2 tickets to see wilco in lousiville, ky,
and no one to go with.
sweet.
9.13.2006
galileo
my nephew called me today to ask me to drive to memphis to see him play soccer on saturday.
he's six years old and he loves me.
it's nice.
i haven't had time enough to disappoint him yet.
hopefully, i can leave that up to his parents.
as well, it's my wedding anniversary, but i'm not married anymore.
and my nephew wants my ex-husband to come to the soccer game.
and i hadn't really thought about this date or cried about this anniversary until my nephew wonders why people disappear from life.
and i have no answer.
except that i keep fucking up.
but as the indigo girls sing in galileo,
"...therell be no nuclear annihilation
In my lifetime Im still not right"
now, to make this a complete day, read some sharon olds poetry.
surely i am breaking a copyright law.
let me know and i will stop.
A Week Later
by Sharon Olds
A week later, I said to a friend: I don't
think I could ever write about it.
Maybe in a year I could write something.
There is something in me maybe someday
to be written; now it is folded, and folded,
and folded, like a note in school. And in my dream
someone was playing jacks, and in the air there was a
huge, thrown, tilted jack
on fire. And when I woke up, I found myself
counting the days since I had last seen
my husband-only two years, and some weeks,
and hours. We had signed the papers and come down to the
ground floor of the Chrysler Building,
the intact beauty of its lobby around us
like a king's tomb, on the ceiling the little
painted plane, in the mural, flying. And it
entered my strictured heart, this morning,
slightly, shyly as if warily,
untamed, a greater sense of the sweetness
and plenty of his ongoing life,
unknown to me, unseen by me,
unheard, untouched-but known, seen,
heard, touched. And it came to me,
for moments at a time, moment after moment,
to be glad for him that he is with the one
he feels was meant for him. And I thought of my
mother, minutes from her death, eighty-five
years from her birth, the almost warbler
bones of her shoulder under my hand, the
eggshell skull, as she lay in some peace
in the clean sheets, and I could tell her the best
of my poor, partial love, I could sing her
out with it, I saw the luck
and luxury of that hour.
he's six years old and he loves me.
it's nice.
i haven't had time enough to disappoint him yet.
hopefully, i can leave that up to his parents.
as well, it's my wedding anniversary, but i'm not married anymore.
and my nephew wants my ex-husband to come to the soccer game.
and i hadn't really thought about this date or cried about this anniversary until my nephew wonders why people disappear from life.
and i have no answer.
except that i keep fucking up.
but as the indigo girls sing in galileo,
"...therell be no nuclear annihilation
In my lifetime Im still not right"
now, to make this a complete day, read some sharon olds poetry.
surely i am breaking a copyright law.
let me know and i will stop.
A Week Later
by Sharon Olds
A week later, I said to a friend: I don't
think I could ever write about it.
Maybe in a year I could write something.
There is something in me maybe someday
to be written; now it is folded, and folded,
and folded, like a note in school. And in my dream
someone was playing jacks, and in the air there was a
huge, thrown, tilted jack
on fire. And when I woke up, I found myself
counting the days since I had last seen
my husband-only two years, and some weeks,
and hours. We had signed the papers and come down to the
ground floor of the Chrysler Building,
the intact beauty of its lobby around us
like a king's tomb, on the ceiling the little
painted plane, in the mural, flying. And it
entered my strictured heart, this morning,
slightly, shyly as if warily,
untamed, a greater sense of the sweetness
and plenty of his ongoing life,
unknown to me, unseen by me,
unheard, untouched-but known, seen,
heard, touched. And it came to me,
for moments at a time, moment after moment,
to be glad for him that he is with the one
he feels was meant for him. And I thought of my
mother, minutes from her death, eighty-five
years from her birth, the almost warbler
bones of her shoulder under my hand, the
eggshell skull, as she lay in some peace
in the clean sheets, and I could tell her the best
of my poor, partial love, I could sing her
out with it, I saw the luck
and luxury of that hour.
9.12.2006
ode to me
somedays. some people love me, and they write about it.
then they give it to me because i am coniferous, damn it. and hairy.
here is one from one to whom i teach writing.
You (inset adjective),
(awe-inspiring, breathtaking, coniferous, dynomite!, exalted, fantabulous, grand, hairy, impressive, joyous, killer, lovable,mind-blowing, nautical, omnipotent, pugnacious, QUEEN EMPORESS OF EVERYTHING, ravishing, stupefying, tenacious, unbelievable, vindictive, wondrous, X-TREME, yippie, zero cool)
Take more painkillers.
Sneak me to shows.
then they give it to me because i am coniferous, damn it. and hairy.
here is one from one to whom i teach writing.
You (inset adjective),
(awe-inspiring, breathtaking, coniferous, dynomite!, exalted, fantabulous, grand, hairy, impressive, joyous, killer, lovable,mind-blowing, nautical, omnipotent, pugnacious, QUEEN EMPORESS OF EVERYTHING, ravishing, stupefying, tenacious, unbelievable, vindictive, wondrous, X-TREME, yippie, zero cool)
Take more painkillers.
Sneak me to shows.
spiderman, spiderman, does whatever a spider can
Spins a web, any size
Catches thieves, just like flies
Look out! Here comes the Spider-man!
Is he strong? Listen, Bud!
He's got radioactive blood.
Can he swing from a thread?
Take a look overhead.
Hey there, there goes the Spider-man!
and if you couldn't sing along with that, then stop reading now and delete this site from your cache.
immediately.
because peter parker is hot, even if tobey maguire isn't.
(tobEy. with an E. are you fucking kidding me?)
as i'm sitting at work today around 10:30 am, one of my favorite blasts from the past drops by to tell me what his life has become. these moments are the reason that i still do what i do. you can always find me- same time same place like your favorite cartoon after school. except i can't spin a web; nor do i have wolf blades flinging from my phalanges (mmmm... hugh jackman- now there's a fucking super hero)
anyway...
i work with some of the most amazingly intelligent people in the universe, and i love that even when they leave, they return to tell me what music i am missing out on, what books are kicking it live, and what movies i need to go see. they even bring me tv shows to watch.
out of the love that i work with comes the ecstasy of a season of firefly on dvd and the accompanying motion picture serenity. i am pumped. joss whedon (speaking of joss) is a demagogue of screen writing genius, and i have been trying to fit these little pups into my viewing kennel for a good 3 months.
as well, i may be getting access to titus- let me know if this is a good thing. i've heard the writing is pretty hot.
sooo.. chatting with my peeps, and i watch the trailer for spiderman 3.
no shit, the words, "It’s a symbiote that bonds to his suit." flies out of someone's mouth.
you probably had to be there.
but it was funny as fuck that a person knows enough about a movie coming out in 9 months to use the word symbiote.
then we watched the trailer for the fountain. looks enticing. the most interesting thing i learned was that the movie is made with little to no CGI's.
what are cgi's you ask.
yeah.
well so did i.
apparently with a dumbass look on my face (as per usual).
so watch the trailer and appreciate that it is film.
like real, chemical smelling plastic kodak moments manipulated by something other than a computer. and that the guy who is behind it did reqium for a dream and pi.
here is a super long article on the movie.
clip from the above article...
Aronofsky noted earlier while on set, "When I started the film I said no computer graphics, let's find one of those old time guys and see what they've been doing."
They found their guy in Peter Parks. Parks specializes in macro/micro photography. Funded in part by the Bahamas government, Park's company goes very deep under the sea, pulling up microorganism and photographing them in 3D.
"He showed us one of these images which was a larva sea anemone eating a larva shrimp in 3D," said Dawson. "Some of the most amazing stuff."
Parks is no stranger to comics, either, having provided the visual effects for "Supergirl." He's received Technical Achievement Academy Awards twice in his career, in 1982 and 1987, and was presented with the Gordono E. Sawyer Award in 2004, an award which according to the Academy's Web site is presented to "an individual in the motion picture industry whose technological contributions have brought credit to the industry."
Dawson said that staying away from CGI for this film has presented them with some huge challenges. "Using CG is really the easy route because it's so prevalent and the tools are great. What it did was really force us to come up with creative solutions to solve a lot of our problems. We sort of ended up in visual effects somewhat by accident. We know the technology, but we also come from this sort of do it yourself world."
Catches thieves, just like flies
Look out! Here comes the Spider-man!
Is he strong? Listen, Bud!
He's got radioactive blood.
Can he swing from a thread?
Take a look overhead.
Hey there, there goes the Spider-man!
and if you couldn't sing along with that, then stop reading now and delete this site from your cache.
immediately.
because peter parker is hot, even if tobey maguire isn't.
(tobEy. with an E. are you fucking kidding me?)
as i'm sitting at work today around 10:30 am, one of my favorite blasts from the past drops by to tell me what his life has become. these moments are the reason that i still do what i do. you can always find me- same time same place like your favorite cartoon after school. except i can't spin a web; nor do i have wolf blades flinging from my phalanges (mmmm... hugh jackman- now there's a fucking super hero)
anyway...
i work with some of the most amazingly intelligent people in the universe, and i love that even when they leave, they return to tell me what music i am missing out on, what books are kicking it live, and what movies i need to go see. they even bring me tv shows to watch.
out of the love that i work with comes the ecstasy of a season of firefly on dvd and the accompanying motion picture serenity. i am pumped. joss whedon (speaking of joss) is a demagogue of screen writing genius, and i have been trying to fit these little pups into my viewing kennel for a good 3 months.
as well, i may be getting access to titus- let me know if this is a good thing. i've heard the writing is pretty hot.
sooo.. chatting with my peeps, and i watch the trailer for spiderman 3.
no shit, the words, "It’s a symbiote that bonds to his suit." flies out of someone's mouth.
you probably had to be there.
but it was funny as fuck that a person knows enough about a movie coming out in 9 months to use the word symbiote.
then we watched the trailer for the fountain. looks enticing. the most interesting thing i learned was that the movie is made with little to no CGI's.
what are cgi's you ask.
yeah.
well so did i.
apparently with a dumbass look on my face (as per usual).
so watch the trailer and appreciate that it is film.
like real, chemical smelling plastic kodak moments manipulated by something other than a computer. and that the guy who is behind it did reqium for a dream and pi.
here is a super long article on the movie.
clip from the above article...
Aronofsky noted earlier while on set, "When I started the film I said no computer graphics, let's find one of those old time guys and see what they've been doing."
They found their guy in Peter Parks. Parks specializes in macro/micro photography. Funded in part by the Bahamas government, Park's company goes very deep under the sea, pulling up microorganism and photographing them in 3D.
"He showed us one of these images which was a larva sea anemone eating a larva shrimp in 3D," said Dawson. "Some of the most amazing stuff."
Parks is no stranger to comics, either, having provided the visual effects for "Supergirl." He's received Technical Achievement Academy Awards twice in his career, in 1982 and 1987, and was presented with the Gordono E. Sawyer Award in 2004, an award which according to the Academy's Web site is presented to "an individual in the motion picture industry whose technological contributions have brought credit to the industry."
Dawson said that staying away from CGI for this film has presented them with some huge challenges. "Using CG is really the easy route because it's so prevalent and the tools are great. What it did was really force us to come up with creative solutions to solve a lot of our problems. We sort of ended up in visual effects somewhat by accident. We know the technology, but we also come from this sort of do it yourself world."
9.11.2006
quote of the day
knoxville's local alternative news source the metro pulse is the best on the planet.
short.
funny.
politico fantastico.
they also have jack neely, a local author who writes about knoxville's "secret history".
his last aricle about the mabry-hazen house ends so...
"Women who read her story may wonder if something has been lost since the days when, if a woman had sex with a man, he plausibly owed her his life. Or at least a whole lot of money."
i am living in the wrong decade.
http://www.metropulse.com/articles/2006/16_36/secret_history.shtml
short.
funny.
politico fantastico.
they also have jack neely, a local author who writes about knoxville's "secret history".
his last aricle about the mabry-hazen house ends so...
"Women who read her story may wonder if something has been lost since the days when, if a woman had sex with a man, he plausibly owed her his life. Or at least a whole lot of money."
i am living in the wrong decade.
http://www.metropulse.com/articles/2006/16_36/secret_history.shtml
a sense of where you are
so today marks my official recovery from backpainpalooza.
even if it hurts, i'm not dying so i need to again start living.
and i read this article today by john mcphee (if you don't know him, go read him. f-ing amazing non-fiction writer) that detailed the playing style and mentality of bill bradley in his princeton years. not that i give a rat's ass about princeton basketball- but i do have a new love affair with bradley after learning that he taught himself peripheral vision in his youth.
what a stud.
point being
he has a philosophy that "there has never been a great athelte who did not know what pain is". so i am running through the pain. only 3 miles, and i ate like 10 peperocinis before i went (bad news. fire in the gullet peeps. i am a fucking idiot).
but i did it damn it, and i'm doin it again tommorrow. i hate running less than 5 miles, but i am an official invalid and must act as so for at least 4 days. i have issues with taking it easy, unless by easy you mean a hot guy with a half gallon of ice cream. i'll take him, and it will be easy.
inspired by bradley and my little trist with asphalt, i went to yoga, which is why i originally started to post tonight.
the yoga center of nashville off of columbine in berry hill is freakshowtastic.
jan campbell is the instructor and it was the most kick ass- not yuppie- no hottiefaker- sweet yoga class ever. my god- she dares instruct and correct. she also dared to be 73 years old and in better shape than lance armstrong.
i have a new hero.
she is my hero.
hero.
even if it hurts, i'm not dying so i need to again start living.
and i read this article today by john mcphee (if you don't know him, go read him. f-ing amazing non-fiction writer) that detailed the playing style and mentality of bill bradley in his princeton years. not that i give a rat's ass about princeton basketball- but i do have a new love affair with bradley after learning that he taught himself peripheral vision in his youth.
what a stud.
point being
he has a philosophy that "there has never been a great athelte who did not know what pain is". so i am running through the pain. only 3 miles, and i ate like 10 peperocinis before i went (bad news. fire in the gullet peeps. i am a fucking idiot).
but i did it damn it, and i'm doin it again tommorrow. i hate running less than 5 miles, but i am an official invalid and must act as so for at least 4 days. i have issues with taking it easy, unless by easy you mean a hot guy with a half gallon of ice cream. i'll take him, and it will be easy.
inspired by bradley and my little trist with asphalt, i went to yoga, which is why i originally started to post tonight.
the yoga center of nashville off of columbine in berry hill is freakshowtastic.
jan campbell is the instructor and it was the most kick ass- not yuppie- no hottiefaker- sweet yoga class ever. my god- she dares instruct and correct. she also dared to be 73 years old and in better shape than lance armstrong.
i have a new hero.
she is my hero.
hero.
9.09.2006
square dance
each day, i sit at my job and note the ways it has not changed in the past five years. consequently, i have been looking into other opportunities as of recent. i've considered a lucrative move into sales or possibly becoming a member of cirque de soleil.
i was going to start yoga monday.
but no-this morning, i found my calling.
even though i'm so white that i glow in the dark- i am determined to become an urban choreography artist.
i am obsessed.
instead of the us open on usa, a lovely movie, entitled You Got Served, is playing this cloudy morn. i've never seen such beauty... such flexibility... such funkiness. and the vernacular that comes with the job. can't you just see me sayin',
"throwin' that hate"
"this here ain't right"
"we out"
i just tried my first handstand, curled flip to a split.
fell on my head.
may need some practice.
oh. now they are dancing in a thunderstorm ala flashdance.
i'm goin' for the handstand again.
i was going to start yoga monday.
but no-this morning, i found my calling.
even though i'm so white that i glow in the dark- i am determined to become an urban choreography artist.
i am obsessed.
instead of the us open on usa, a lovely movie, entitled You Got Served, is playing this cloudy morn. i've never seen such beauty... such flexibility... such funkiness. and the vernacular that comes with the job. can't you just see me sayin',
"throwin' that hate"
"this here ain't right"
"we out"
i just tried my first handstand, curled flip to a split.
fell on my head.
may need some practice.
oh. now they are dancing in a thunderstorm ala flashdance.
i'm goin' for the handstand again.
9.08.2006
the yellow wallpaper remover
i found my alternative to paxil, not that i've had the balls to take any. recent doctor visits have convinced me that i am crazy. so, i'm now only participating in alternative medicines for my health- so here's my alternative.
1. go to grimey's and buy a cd. something guaranteed- not risky. a band to love whose collection is not yet complete on the ipod. i chose the starlight mints. important to this is flirting with every person of opposite sex in the store. even giggle at the cat at the register. acting dumb is a good ruse. spilling all credit cards and forgetting you pin# interacts well with this medication.
2. go to major book store chain, even though they violate all laws of decency. forget karhma and drool through aisles of shiny books and violent pricetags. spend at least $100 on books that you have wanted to read for months- forget that a library card is on the keychain in your wallet. oh- and buy the stupid piece of chocolate at the counter. flirting with the man in the wheelchair interacts well with this medication- he loves it; it's the best lurid stare you'll get all night.
3. stop at bongo java. try to talk the coffee guy into grinding your beans. he'll talk you out of it, even though you don't have a grinder (never mind trying to figure out how your gonna grind the beans once you get home). then, fantasize about hooking up with the coffee guy who is 2/3 your age and also works at the climbing wall. then scarf a las paletas popsicle. almost hitting 2 hot belmont students in the parking lot interacts well with this med.
4. watch a horibble hallmark channel movie that perverts charisma carpenter from the bitch you loved in buffy to a whiny, fat nightmare (they gotta work on these new-fangled widescreen tv's). then, thank god you don't look like her. she needs to cover up the mole again. puking. wait- is she about to lesbian-out with the chick from "Charmed"? nah. never mind. she's just making friends. and now she's crying in a beauty salon because she doesn't want to wear precious peach polish.
damn.
my life is good.
i'm cured.
this should help too.
http://www.sonypictures.com/movies/allthekingsmen/
1. go to grimey's and buy a cd. something guaranteed- not risky. a band to love whose collection is not yet complete on the ipod. i chose the starlight mints. important to this is flirting with every person of opposite sex in the store. even giggle at the cat at the register. acting dumb is a good ruse. spilling all credit cards and forgetting you pin# interacts well with this medication.
2. go to major book store chain, even though they violate all laws of decency. forget karhma and drool through aisles of shiny books and violent pricetags. spend at least $100 on books that you have wanted to read for months- forget that a library card is on the keychain in your wallet. oh- and buy the stupid piece of chocolate at the counter. flirting with the man in the wheelchair interacts well with this medication- he loves it; it's the best lurid stare you'll get all night.
3. stop at bongo java. try to talk the coffee guy into grinding your beans. he'll talk you out of it, even though you don't have a grinder (never mind trying to figure out how your gonna grind the beans once you get home). then, fantasize about hooking up with the coffee guy who is 2/3 your age and also works at the climbing wall. then scarf a las paletas popsicle. almost hitting 2 hot belmont students in the parking lot interacts well with this med.
4. watch a horibble hallmark channel movie that perverts charisma carpenter from the bitch you loved in buffy to a whiny, fat nightmare (they gotta work on these new-fangled widescreen tv's). then, thank god you don't look like her. she needs to cover up the mole again. puking. wait- is she about to lesbian-out with the chick from "Charmed"? nah. never mind. she's just making friends. and now she's crying in a beauty salon because she doesn't want to wear precious peach polish.
damn.
my life is good.
i'm cured.
this should help too.
http://www.sonypictures.com/movies/allthekingsmen/
one flew over the cuckoos' nest
i am boycotting modern medicine.
unless i start bleeding out of my eyeballs or asshole.
then i may go back to a doctor.
but for now- I AM DONE.
it's not that i'm afraid of docs.
i just don't go- except when it really hurts.
and, since i have lived in nashville i have been to the doctor concerning
(am i really sharing this) yes- four things.
1) an earache requiring major decongestants and narcotics
2) a miscarriage requiring major therapy and corner crying
3) some tendonitis requiring a black boot and 21 aleve
and this week's excruciating back pain requiring NOTHING
okay- maybe i got some lortab, but only 10mg pills.
cheap. cheap.
what i wanted was a diagnosis. some grown up to say- gosh, you come to the doctor like never. like, when your ailment is real. let's see what's wrong.
what i did not want was- well, nothing showed up on your ultrasound (did you read the last post, intra-what?) would you like us to prescribe physical therapy?
um. no.
the only person who's gonna need physical therapy is you, nurse ratchet.
after i jump through the phone and beat your ass.
wait.
i can't.
my back hurts too much.
fuck doctors.
i may not even get my teeth cleaned this year.
unless i start bleeding out of my eyeballs or asshole.
then i may go back to a doctor.
but for now- I AM DONE.
it's not that i'm afraid of docs.
i just don't go- except when it really hurts.
and, since i have lived in nashville i have been to the doctor concerning
(am i really sharing this) yes- four things.
1) an earache requiring major decongestants and narcotics
2) a miscarriage requiring major therapy and corner crying
3) some tendonitis requiring a black boot and 21 aleve
and this week's excruciating back pain requiring NOTHING
okay- maybe i got some lortab, but only 10mg pills.
cheap. cheap.
what i wanted was a diagnosis. some grown up to say- gosh, you come to the doctor like never. like, when your ailment is real. let's see what's wrong.
what i did not want was- well, nothing showed up on your ultrasound (did you read the last post, intra-what?) would you like us to prescribe physical therapy?
um. no.
the only person who's gonna need physical therapy is you, nurse ratchet.
after i jump through the phone and beat your ass.
wait.
i can't.
my back hurts too much.
fuck doctors.
i may not even get my teeth cleaned this year.
9.04.2006
the sound of failure
i've been gone a long time b/c i've been sticking my hand in the cage of a bear who bites.
i know he bites.
he bites and then retreats to the corner to plan his next attack.
it's not the bear's fault, i know he bites.
okay-
i have a masters degree.
not so much is it in topography or geography.
nor is it in common sense- obviously.
i hate admitting it, but i got lost- really lost- on my way from st. louis to nashville.
i also got a speeding ticket, but that's the norm.
as for getting lost, i was chatting on the phone to my favorite tennis pro, telling him the story of this time i left knoxville to head to nashville, drove 50 miles, stopped for gas, got back on the interstate and ENDED UP BACK IN KNOXVILLE before i realized i was going the wrong way on I-40. no fucking lie, as i am telling this story, i start to notice that the exits on my "interstate" are looking way less interstate. like let's pop 3 feet of the highway to get gas instead of let's take the 2 mile off ramp to get gas in tehran.
soooo, i say- hold on i've got to check this sign to see what city i'm passing.
then i say, fuck i think i'm lost, let me call you back.
stop.
get gas.
look at map.
the interstate i'm supposed to be on is 70 miles north of my gas station.
did i mention that i quit smoking on tuesday?
well, i took a hiatus from the land of healthy lungs, my friends.
i also broke my "there's no crying in road trips" rule.
a pack of marlboro ultra light 100's and a diet berry-who-the-fuck-knows what else dr. pepper later, i am making loops in south east missouri.
as i'm prayin for the new madrid fault to rip and put me out of my misery, i get stuck behind a cattle truck. these trucks are the reason i eat beef 3 times a year; well the trucks and some gastro-intestinal revolutions that we won't discuss.
so i'm stuck behind a cattle truck on a state highway that will later dead end at the mississippi/ohio river (oh yes peeps- look closely on the blacklines on your maps. some don't cross the river). and i see a sign that says "you can't stop drop and roll in hell".
nice.
then i get lost again in charleston, missouri.
cute little town.
sixteen cigarettes and 2 hours later, i am on the road to paducah with a sore throat and an aching back. an aching, wretchedly painful back that brought some other girly pains to the pain party in my body.
the party made me go to the doctor today.
an event that takes me to tomorrow's ultra-sound.
can you say intravaginal?
well, i can too.
and so can my doctor.
and soon will my therapist.
i know he bites.
he bites and then retreats to the corner to plan his next attack.
it's not the bear's fault, i know he bites.
okay-
i have a masters degree.
not so much is it in topography or geography.
nor is it in common sense- obviously.
i hate admitting it, but i got lost- really lost- on my way from st. louis to nashville.
i also got a speeding ticket, but that's the norm.
as for getting lost, i was chatting on the phone to my favorite tennis pro, telling him the story of this time i left knoxville to head to nashville, drove 50 miles, stopped for gas, got back on the interstate and ENDED UP BACK IN KNOXVILLE before i realized i was going the wrong way on I-40. no fucking lie, as i am telling this story, i start to notice that the exits on my "interstate" are looking way less interstate. like let's pop 3 feet of the highway to get gas instead of let's take the 2 mile off ramp to get gas in tehran.
soooo, i say- hold on i've got to check this sign to see what city i'm passing.
then i say, fuck i think i'm lost, let me call you back.
stop.
get gas.
look at map.
the interstate i'm supposed to be on is 70 miles north of my gas station.
did i mention that i quit smoking on tuesday?
well, i took a hiatus from the land of healthy lungs, my friends.
i also broke my "there's no crying in road trips" rule.
a pack of marlboro ultra light 100's and a diet berry-who-the-fuck-knows what else dr. pepper later, i am making loops in south east missouri.
as i'm prayin for the new madrid fault to rip and put me out of my misery, i get stuck behind a cattle truck. these trucks are the reason i eat beef 3 times a year; well the trucks and some gastro-intestinal revolutions that we won't discuss.
so i'm stuck behind a cattle truck on a state highway that will later dead end at the mississippi/ohio river (oh yes peeps- look closely on the blacklines on your maps. some don't cross the river). and i see a sign that says "you can't stop drop and roll in hell".
nice.
then i get lost again in charleston, missouri.
cute little town.
sixteen cigarettes and 2 hours later, i am on the road to paducah with a sore throat and an aching back. an aching, wretchedly painful back that brought some other girly pains to the pain party in my body.
the party made me go to the doctor today.
an event that takes me to tomorrow's ultra-sound.
can you say intravaginal?
well, i can too.
and so can my doctor.
and soon will my therapist.
8.21.2006
same time, same place
i love that i never learn.
never.
on this planet for 30 years, i still haven't figured out how to get what i want.
oh- i often get.
but not what i want.
not now.
not ever. (remove thyself, pessimism, from this holy vessel!)
so- i'm back from chasing a wild animal through the woods, and i'm hanging up my spear and chucking it.
when i get a life, i'll write about it.
never.
on this planet for 30 years, i still haven't figured out how to get what i want.
oh- i often get.
but not what i want.
not now.
not ever. (remove thyself, pessimism, from this holy vessel!)
so- i'm back from chasing a wild animal through the woods, and i'm hanging up my spear and chucking it.
when i get a life, i'll write about it.
8.03.2006
penny lane
it's in my ears and in my eyes
and in my poop.
did you know that when you swallow a penny, it takes approximately 36 hours for the penny to travel the gastroinestinal system and find its way to the shiny porcelain crib?
well. trust me. it does.
and in my poop.
did you know that when you swallow a penny, it takes approximately 36 hours for the penny to travel the gastroinestinal system and find its way to the shiny porcelain crib?
well. trust me. it does.
7.20.2006
i wanna be lindsey lohan
some days i am an idiot.
usually the days that fall between thursdays and wednesdays.
so today was one of those days. i went shopping for sunglasses, and let me tell you- i have NO idea what to look for in sunglasses. the bug eyes overpower my TINY head. i look like the fly in the fly. sports ones are a bit too bullish- and anything with a logo on it stresses me out. soooo, i ended up with purple and orange vera wang sunglasses.
now- i know you're thinking to yourself, "i didn't know that vera wang made sunglasses." but she does. and they are 1960's reminiscent. i worship.
ohhhh wait- you were really wondering why i bought purple and orange sunglasses?
oh.
well.
that's easy.
some days i'm an idiot.
in addition to this fashion nightmare, i bought a pair of pants that are WAY TOO SMALL. but they are so freaking hot. and i'm thinking i can lose 5 pounds (so then all of my other clothes will be too big) or i can wash them and pull,
and pull,
and pull,
and...
until the ass stretches out.
because it needs to.
because i am not linsdey lohan.
but i wanna be.
usually the days that fall between thursdays and wednesdays.
so today was one of those days. i went shopping for sunglasses, and let me tell you- i have NO idea what to look for in sunglasses. the bug eyes overpower my TINY head. i look like the fly in the fly. sports ones are a bit too bullish- and anything with a logo on it stresses me out. soooo, i ended up with purple and orange vera wang sunglasses.
now- i know you're thinking to yourself, "i didn't know that vera wang made sunglasses." but she does. and they are 1960's reminiscent. i worship.
ohhhh wait- you were really wondering why i bought purple and orange sunglasses?
oh.
well.
that's easy.
some days i'm an idiot.
in addition to this fashion nightmare, i bought a pair of pants that are WAY TOO SMALL. but they are so freaking hot. and i'm thinking i can lose 5 pounds (so then all of my other clothes will be too big) or i can wash them and pull,
and pull,
and pull,
and...
until the ass stretches out.
because it needs to.
because i am not linsdey lohan.
but i wanna be.
7.10.2006
rockin' the suburbs
so today was one of those days.
it started well enough.
6 cups of coffee and an double fried egg sandwich. yums.
a smoke and my ipod on the way to school.
unloading books to my classroom.
going for a run...
my nine mile run is where it went south.
in mile #5, a 40? year old federal agent/jogger who works in the kefauver building across the street from my school scared the be-jezzus outta me on belmont boulevard.
fyi-NEVER schmooze up behind a runner wearing headphones. it is just cruel.
so, i pee a little on myself from fear... and his mouth is moving... and all i can think, is this guy serious? who really tries to fondle someone when she's wearing a sports bra, yellow shorts, and a grumpy-ass face? and isn't the ipod a dead, i don't chat while i run, give away?
i ran a half in april, and not even all 15 of the poeple i spoke to during my run accumulated as much talk time as this guy. and we all know how sweet and friendly i am to Y-chromosome strangers...so we run together for a mile or so, until he becomes a bit frightened.
when departing, he actually stops my foreward movement and shakes my hand. GROSS. sweaty palms have only one place in my life, and it is not in my right hand.
so my run is tainted by this cat and the freaks in the camero who think that an utmost compliment involves auto horns and gyration. my middle finger is still a little stiff.
then, i work for a while with minute particles of drama.
doable.
then i go to tennis. which is normally a good time, but i can't serve anymore and the pro thinks that it is funny to make me run even more after i explain that i ran over 9 today. sick, my friend. sick. so then my ass cramps up and i can't go to yoga.
instead i go to the cheezecake factory with my roomie and her parents. do i even have to comment on the ccf??? didn't think so.
as well, her 'rents are staying with us, so i get to sleep with the roomie while she is wearing a CPAP mask.
if anyone has any xanax they want to share, i'm rockin' the suburbs... southbound '65. if you're reading this- you know the exit.
it started well enough.
6 cups of coffee and an double fried egg sandwich. yums.
a smoke and my ipod on the way to school.
unloading books to my classroom.
going for a run...
my nine mile run is where it went south.
in mile #5, a 40? year old federal agent/jogger who works in the kefauver building across the street from my school scared the be-jezzus outta me on belmont boulevard.
fyi-NEVER schmooze up behind a runner wearing headphones. it is just cruel.
so, i pee a little on myself from fear... and his mouth is moving... and all i can think, is this guy serious? who really tries to fondle someone when she's wearing a sports bra, yellow shorts, and a grumpy-ass face? and isn't the ipod a dead, i don't chat while i run, give away?
i ran a half in april, and not even all 15 of the poeple i spoke to during my run accumulated as much talk time as this guy. and we all know how sweet and friendly i am to Y-chromosome strangers...so we run together for a mile or so, until he becomes a bit frightened.
when departing, he actually stops my foreward movement and shakes my hand. GROSS. sweaty palms have only one place in my life, and it is not in my right hand.
so my run is tainted by this cat and the freaks in the camero who think that an utmost compliment involves auto horns and gyration. my middle finger is still a little stiff.
then, i work for a while with minute particles of drama.
doable.
then i go to tennis. which is normally a good time, but i can't serve anymore and the pro thinks that it is funny to make me run even more after i explain that i ran over 9 today. sick, my friend. sick. so then my ass cramps up and i can't go to yoga.
instead i go to the cheezecake factory with my roomie and her parents. do i even have to comment on the ccf??? didn't think so.
as well, her 'rents are staying with us, so i get to sleep with the roomie while she is wearing a CPAP mask.
if anyone has any xanax they want to share, i'm rockin' the suburbs... southbound '65. if you're reading this- you know the exit.
a montage of the good life
okay. this is where i sat at kenny. you may think that i am far from the stage, but i am. please note the lovely mullet in the white visor/blue shirt. you'll have to look closely- i can't figure out how to make my sprintpcs pics any bigger. now- he wanted to take me home, but i hooked up with this guy instead.
hey- don't hate. it's hard out there for a pimp. i mean, would you hook up with a girl whose feet looked like this after a good saturday night???
so really, i got lucky.
don't i wish?
7.08.2006
the law of diminishing returns
you know how in econ they taught you that all things are good until a point.
well, take that philosophy to vodka sodas and peanuts in the shell.
you know how i like to eat the shells... especially when i am consuming an entire pound bag at a kenny chesney concert.
right before i committ a class 6 felony and before i spend $28 at jack in the box.
right before i puke the peanuts and the jack in the crack into my toilet.
i used to love peanut butter, but now we have no foreseeable future.
fuck.
well, take that philosophy to vodka sodas and peanuts in the shell.
you know how i like to eat the shells... especially when i am consuming an entire pound bag at a kenny chesney concert.
right before i committ a class 6 felony and before i spend $28 at jack in the box.
right before i puke the peanuts and the jack in the crack into my toilet.
i used to love peanut butter, but now we have no foreseeable future.
fuck.
i am afeared people, afeared
today, i am taking my camera to the largest festival of non-domesticated rednecks.
Kenny Chesney is headlining his ??? living in fast forward??? tour??
yes. i paid for the ticket.
yes. i know that makes me the monkey wrench in the tool bag.
you know how cometimes your friends call all excited about something and you just HAVE TO COME. even if it's not your style? well, i deluded myself into thinking that i could do this. i mean, kenny is good friends with one of my bff's (random halls, tennessee connection). i should support his tour right?
god- i'm gonna need a cocktail or 40 for this.
and do you think my friends ever come to the basement when someone i want to see is playing there? no ma'am. not that i've really asked them... but that's a whole'nother issue not for public discussion.
any way- gear up for some good pics, because i'm taking the mom bag and becoming a shutter bug.
7.07.2006
my ipod knows me well
because wimbledon is no fun when federer waxes someone, i saw this on a hottie's blog and had to try it... my ipod loves the beatles
The rules:
1) Put your music player on shuffle.
2) Click forward for every question
3) Use the song title as the answer to the question.
4) No cheating!
The Questions:
1) How am I feeling today? Janey Don't You Lose Heart- Springsteen
2) Where will I get married? Something- The Beatles
3) What is my best friend's theme song? Drowaton- The Starlight Mints
4) What was high school like? The Stranger- Billy Joel
5) What is the best thing about me?Title Track- Death Cab For Cutie
6) What is today going to be like? What's the Difference- Dr. Dre
7) What is in store for this week? You Never Give Me Your Money- The Beatles
8) What song describes my parents? Beautiful- Belle and Sebastian
9) How is my life going? Range Life- Pavement
10) What song will they play at my funeral? The Motivator- T-Rex
11) How does the world see me? So Fast, So Numb- REM
12) What should I be doing right now? You Really Got a Hold on Me- The Beatles
13) Do people secretly like me? Five Stop Mother Superior Rain- The Flaming Lips
14) What do my friends really think of me? Everyone's Gone to the Moon- The Flaming Lips
15) How can I make myself happy? Ruby Sees All- Cake
16) Will I be happy? Honk if You're Lonely- The Silver Jews
17) What is some good advice? Fighting in a Sack- The Shins
18) What is my current theme song? Alpha Beta Gaga- Air
19) What does everyone else think my current theme song is? Seventeen Devils- The Starlight Mints
20) What should I do with my life? A Sorta Fairy Tale- Tori Amos
21) What type of men/women do I like? Free Until They Cut Me Down- Iron and Wine
22) Will I get married? My Opening Farewell- Bonnie Raitt
23) Where will I live? Tear It Down- Old Crow Medicine Show
24) What should I do with my love life? Summer of '69- Bryan Adams
25) What will my dying words be? Damnation's Cellar- Elvis Costello and The Brodsky Quartet
The rules:
1) Put your music player on shuffle.
2) Click forward for every question
3) Use the song title as the answer to the question.
4) No cheating!
The Questions:
1) How am I feeling today? Janey Don't You Lose Heart- Springsteen
2) Where will I get married? Something- The Beatles
3) What is my best friend's theme song? Drowaton- The Starlight Mints
4) What was high school like? The Stranger- Billy Joel
5) What is the best thing about me?Title Track- Death Cab For Cutie
6) What is today going to be like? What's the Difference- Dr. Dre
7) What is in store for this week? You Never Give Me Your Money- The Beatles
8) What song describes my parents? Beautiful- Belle and Sebastian
9) How is my life going? Range Life- Pavement
10) What song will they play at my funeral? The Motivator- T-Rex
11) How does the world see me? So Fast, So Numb- REM
12) What should I be doing right now? You Really Got a Hold on Me- The Beatles
13) Do people secretly like me? Five Stop Mother Superior Rain- The Flaming Lips
14) What do my friends really think of me? Everyone's Gone to the Moon- The Flaming Lips
15) How can I make myself happy? Ruby Sees All- Cake
16) Will I be happy? Honk if You're Lonely- The Silver Jews
17) What is some good advice? Fighting in a Sack- The Shins
18) What is my current theme song? Alpha Beta Gaga- Air
19) What does everyone else think my current theme song is? Seventeen Devils- The Starlight Mints
20) What should I do with my life? A Sorta Fairy Tale- Tori Amos
21) What type of men/women do I like? Free Until They Cut Me Down- Iron and Wine
22) Will I get married? My Opening Farewell- Bonnie Raitt
23) Where will I live? Tear It Down- Old Crow Medicine Show
24) What should I do with my love life? Summer of '69- Bryan Adams
25) What will my dying words be? Damnation's Cellar- Elvis Costello and The Brodsky Quartet
7.06.2006
oh my god! they killed kitty. you bastards.
i disappeared for the last couple of weeks and a certain friend was convinced that i had checked myself in to re-hab... she was not convinced i had been committed, thank you... she knew better; they couldn't catch me if they tried. vodka makes me fast.
i was merely living life, folks. you know- kissing boys, teaching writing, downloading over 6000 songs to my new ipod. the last wore me out for at least a day. i desire firewire.
as for my love life, i have a new moniker- kyhugandkiss. it seems i can't seal the deal. i never knew that i had a conscience or a set of morals (see my college diary).
wow- the things you learn in your thirtieth year. it seems no matter how many nights i go out, imbibe 7 or 8 cocktails on the rocks, and pout my lower lip at the opposite sex, i puss out (ha ha, not really). i've had some good offers, too- as if you couldn't tell from my attached blog photo. celibacy has not always been the case. i am so pissed my mom gave me "our bodies, ourselves" in early college; finally, visions of sugar plum fairies and fever blisters dance through my head.
and everyone i know can hook up and sweep that shit under the covers; as i am the local priestess for sex confessionals, i have learned things that have made me turn a little green (which is a feat). i had no idea that good little girls could do the things they do. a word of warning- the dirtier her mouth, the cleaner her wassa. and vice versa. i am definately going to troll for men at tatoo parlors- at least they probably test themselves for AIDS, with the constant needle fondling and all.
sadly, i think my shit glitters, and i am the only one prom enough to polish it. wax on. wax off.
i was merely living life, folks. you know- kissing boys, teaching writing, downloading over 6000 songs to my new ipod. the last wore me out for at least a day. i desire firewire.
as for my love life, i have a new moniker- kyhugandkiss. it seems i can't seal the deal. i never knew that i had a conscience or a set of morals (see my college diary).
wow- the things you learn in your thirtieth year. it seems no matter how many nights i go out, imbibe 7 or 8 cocktails on the rocks, and pout my lower lip at the opposite sex, i puss out (ha ha, not really). i've had some good offers, too- as if you couldn't tell from my attached blog photo. celibacy has not always been the case. i am so pissed my mom gave me "our bodies, ourselves" in early college; finally, visions of sugar plum fairies and fever blisters dance through my head.
and everyone i know can hook up and sweep that shit under the covers; as i am the local priestess for sex confessionals, i have learned things that have made me turn a little green (which is a feat). i had no idea that good little girls could do the things they do. a word of warning- the dirtier her mouth, the cleaner her wassa. and vice versa. i am definately going to troll for men at tatoo parlors- at least they probably test themselves for AIDS, with the constant needle fondling and all.
sadly, i think my shit glitters, and i am the only one prom enough to polish it. wax on. wax off.
6.23.2006
NPR: national public romanticism
npr has a series, "this i believe". here's my contribution...
The last thing I pulled out of the envelope was a poem by this same eulogy/short story boy. On a July afternoon, he drove an hour to myKnoxville Check Point Charlie
Soul mates and white knights don’t resonate with me. I’m not a woman who enjoys movies like “The Notebook” or “You’ve Got Mail.” However, I believe that human beings should be by love possessed.
It took a quiet divorce and some October “spring cleaning” for me to figure this out. Recently, I emptied the storage box that housed our mementos. In the dust of an attic, I filled trash bags with the greeting cards and photographs of my married life. I felt a little nervous, but it didn’t feel wrong. At age thirty, when you break up, you clean out. You move on, and you make space for what comes next.
While tossing these last tangible pieces of my marriage, I found an eleven year old envelope: one that I had scribbled a poem on while sitting in my ‘82 Chevy Blazer. I had gotten lost in the
The first was a eulogy I had written in a bout of gothic romanticism. You know, what would I do or say if my lover died? I read it sitting on the attic stairs, laughed, and tossed it near the trash bag.
Looking again through the envelope, I pulled out a Vonnegut short story, “Long Walk to Forever.” The eulogy boy had given it to me. It’s a short fiction piece about a soldier who goes A.W.O.L to see a girl he loves before she marries someone else. The soldier gets the girl. I smiled at Vonnegut’s romanticism and again tossed the contents of this envelope toward the trash.
The last thing I pulled out of the envelope was a poem by this same eulogy/short story boy. On a July afternoon, he drove an hour to my
Now, I hadn’t yet cried over my divorce and wouldn’t much, but this sentiment from a boy I loved in college made me lose my shit. Somewhere in my twenties, I had forgotten that someone had loved me enough to love me ferociously, to write it down, to make it real. At that moment, I understood that the choice to leave my husband was the right one.
The papers in that envelope are the first prisoners of my personal war to find a place in another human heart. My armory in this battle is the poetry of T.S. Elliott, the smell of gardenias, the creak of wicker porch furniture, and the lull of Interstate 75 on the way to the Mc Callie School. These pasts lead me to the memory that I have been by love possessed. And the belief that I should be, again.
6.21.2006
inside of me
random thoughts for the day:
1. i could open a nap bar. i am not kidding. i would have paid upwards of $50 to take a nap somewhere between 4:25 and 5:45 this afternoon. not enough time to drive home and snooze, and with a heat index of 98, i am not napping out in the jeep. i guess they have hotels by the hour, but i already have fleas...
2. picture this: one empty toilet paper roll on the bathroom floor. one empty toilet paper roll on the spool. one 3 sheets left toilet paper roll on the bathroom counter. no anal retentives here.
3. i am much better at tennis when i am trying to fondle the pro. too bad for my game.
1. i could open a nap bar. i am not kidding. i would have paid upwards of $50 to take a nap somewhere between 4:25 and 5:45 this afternoon. not enough time to drive home and snooze, and with a heat index of 98, i am not napping out in the jeep. i guess they have hotels by the hour, but i already have fleas...
2. picture this: one empty toilet paper roll on the bathroom floor. one empty toilet paper roll on the spool. one 3 sheets left toilet paper roll on the bathroom counter. no anal retentives here.
3. i am much better at tennis when i am trying to fondle the pro. too bad for my game.
6.19.2006
ben folds is a candy bar
so this morning i got hazed by a fourteen year old boy for liking ben folds.
maybe he's right.
but the same thing i like about ben folds is the same thing i like about candy.
simple sugar. little substance beyond pep.
really- what's wrong with bobbing your head to the tunes of a developmentally arrested piano player who still shoots in 35 mm black and white (which is hot. hot. hot).
maybe he's right.
but the same thing i like about ben folds is the same thing i like about candy.
simple sugar. little substance beyond pep.
really- what's wrong with bobbing your head to the tunes of a developmentally arrested piano player who still shoots in 35 mm black and white (which is hot. hot. hot).
6.18.2006
unoriginal commentary
just finished going to church... aka running 7 miles through belmont.
i think that the city of nashville needs to pay me a consultant's fee.
every tourist in nash stops me in the middle of my run to ask...
where is the belmont mansion?
where is union station?
where is the battle of franklin?
where is the arc of the covenant?
come on people.
learn how to read your yahoo map.
and the BIG BROWN road signs.
on a different note inspired by vh1 sunday movies.
what the hell happened to john hughes?
and the 13-25 demographic of cinematography for that matter.
check out hughes' resume before 1990.
you know where you were the first time you saw 16 candles.
and you know you wanted your first kiss to be tinged by the smell of your hair burning in your birthday cake... maybe you wanted it to be judd nelson instead of the porsche guy- but you wanted it.
now the 1990's were not so good for mr. hughes.
this is what happens when you start making money... you want to make more, so you think a little blond screecher who is left alone for the holidays will help pay for your house in brentwood, california. or maybe you just bought your kids a freakshow saint bernard. and what the hell is flubber?
check out hughes' resume between 1990 and 2000.
check out hughes' resume after 2000.
we were warned that the apocalypse was a possibility in the new millennium.
how do you go from ally sheedy to j-lo?
and, ralph fiennes, how do you go from the english patient to m.i.m and then back to the constant gardener?
somebody call the pope.
i think that the city of nashville needs to pay me a consultant's fee.
every tourist in nash stops me in the middle of my run to ask...
where is the belmont mansion?
where is union station?
where is the battle of franklin?
where is the arc of the covenant?
come on people.
learn how to read your yahoo map.
and the BIG BROWN road signs.
on a different note inspired by vh1 sunday movies.
what the hell happened to john hughes?
and the 13-25 demographic of cinematography for that matter.
check out hughes' resume before 1990.
- Christmas Vacation (1989) (written by)
... aka National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (UK: complete title) (USA: complete title)
... aka National Lampoon's Winter Holiday (UK) - Uncle Buck (1989) (written by)
- The Great Outdoors (1988) (written by)
- She's Having a Baby (1988)
- Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987) (written by)
- Some Kind of Wonderful (1987) (written by)
- Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)
- Pretty in Pink (1986) (written by)
- Weird Science (1985)
- European Vacation (1985) (also story)
... aka National Lampoon's European Vacation (UK: video box title) - The Breakfast Club (1985) (written by)
- Sixteen Candles (1984)
- Nate and Hayes (1983)
... aka Savage Islands (UK) - Vacation (1983) (screenplay)
... aka National Lampoon's Vacation (UK) (USA: complete title)
... aka American Vacation (Europe: English title: video title) - Mr. Mom (1983)
... aka Mr. Mum - Class Reunion (1982)
... aka National Lampoon's Class Reunion
you know where you were the first time you saw 16 candles.
and you know you wanted your first kiss to be tinged by the smell of your hair burning in your birthday cake... maybe you wanted it to be judd nelson instead of the porsche guy- but you wanted it.
now the 1990's were not so good for mr. hughes.
this is what happens when you start making money... you want to make more, so you think a little blond screecher who is left alone for the holidays will help pay for your house in brentwood, california. or maybe you just bought your kids a freakshow saint bernard. and what the hell is flubber?
check out hughes' resume between 1990 and 2000.
- Reach the Rock (1998) (written by)
- Home Alone 3 (1997) (written by)
- Flubber (1997) (screenplay)
... aka Disney's Flubber: The Absent Minded Professor (promotional title) - 101 Dalmatians (1996) (screenplay)
- Miracle on 34th Street (1994) (screenplay)
- Baby's Day Out (1994) (written by)
- Beethoven's 2nd (1993) (characters) (as Edmond Dantès)
- Dennis the Menace (1993) (written by)
... aka Dennis (UK) - Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (1992) (characters) (written by)
... aka Home Alone II (USA: short title) - Beethoven (1992) (written by) (as Edmond Dantès)
- Curly Sue (1991) (written by)
- Dutch (1991) (written by)
... aka Driving Me Crazy - Career Opportunities (1991) (written by)
... aka One Wild Night - Home Alone (1990) (written by)
check out hughes' resume after 2000.
we were warned that the apocalypse was a possibility in the new millennium.
- Beethoven's 5th (2003) (V) (characters)
... aka Beethoven's 5th: Big Paw (USA) - Maid in Manhattan (2002) (story) (as Edmond Dantès)
... aka Made in New York (USA: poster title) - Home Alone 4 (2002) (TV) (characters)
... aka Home Alone: Taking Back the House (USA: DVD title) - Beethoven's 4th (2001) (V) (characters) (as Edmond Dantès)
- Just Visiting (2001) (screenplay)
... aka Visiteurs en Amérique, Les (France) - Beethoven's 3rd (2000) (V) (characters) (as Edmond Dantès)
- American Adventure (2000) (TV) (characters)
... aka National Lampoon's American Adventure (USA: complete title)
how do you go from ally sheedy to j-lo?
and, ralph fiennes, how do you go from the english patient to m.i.m and then back to the constant gardener?
somebody call the pope.
no man is an island
but damn i love being alone sometimes. this weekend my roomie went home for father's day. so it was me, my itunes, 6 new yorker magazines, and my bed. if i had gotten laid, it would have been perfect.
right now my coffe's running through me like a kenyon, and i'm listening to the pixies b-sides. i love life and am obsessed with my colon. obviously. i think i've got a new item for my vernacular,
like, when i call and ask the dishwasher out again ( i want to hear nothing about the "rules." i am a woman and not afraid to roar), do i say, "hey-let's make a b-side to last thursday's cocktail hour."
or do i say, "that guy is so b-side. look at his van shoes."
hmmm.... will think about this as i run belmont blvd this morning. got to go. getting late.
right now my coffe's running through me like a kenyon, and i'm listening to the pixies b-sides. i love life and am obsessed with my colon. obviously. i think i've got a new item for my vernacular,
like, when i call and ask the dishwasher out again ( i want to hear nothing about the "rules." i am a woman and not afraid to roar), do i say, "hey-let's make a b-side to last thursday's cocktail hour."
or do i say, "that guy is so b-side. look at his van shoes."
hmmm.... will think about this as i run belmont blvd this morning. got to go. getting late.
6.17.2006
get a cloth strip; she's waxing
it's amazing the things that make me appreciate who i am... and the ways that i have to learn these things.
sometimes i break promises.
sometimes i give up.
and sometimes i sit at the condo pool next to divorcee cats hitting on tubby chicks who whine about the fact that the cue sticks in the clubhouse need to be fixed.
really bitch?
do people play pool anymore?
anyway- the saving grace to my so called life is that my ipod comes this week.
i bought that instead of a TV for my space that i will move into later this summer. the question becomes how do i get high speed internet without giving comcast or bellsouth my money.
no cable.
no phone.
no internet?
seriously?
my life kicks ass. fo' sure.
sometimes i break promises.
sometimes i give up.
and sometimes i sit at the condo pool next to divorcee cats hitting on tubby chicks who whine about the fact that the cue sticks in the clubhouse need to be fixed.
really bitch?
do people play pool anymore?
anyway- the saving grace to my so called life is that my ipod comes this week.
i bought that instead of a TV for my space that i will move into later this summer. the question becomes how do i get high speed internet without giving comcast or bellsouth my money.
no cable.
no phone.
no internet?
seriously?
my life kicks ass. fo' sure.
6.16.2006
the life less than aquatic
so little and so much.
first my job at the local southern ivy league has been dealable. i just have to keep focusing on the paycheck. thanks mom and dad for kicking me in the face when i acted like a social retard.
as for social events, last weekend i went to the racetrack across the kentucky border to lay some cash on the belmont stakes. too bad there were no REAL horses to bet on. just tv screens, betting booths, and about 786 grey haired people with oxygen tanks and salem ultra lights. i lost $9. to top it off, i was the DD for the trip; consequently, everyone else was having much more fun than i. after getting back to nash, we headed to south street where i played vodka catch up and ate grilled grouper and broccoli. unimpressive. then the kitchen manager came out and MADE ME eat some cheesy enchiladas made especially for our table. still unimpressive. then he MADE ME eat the homemade nutty buddy dessert. okay- i tried to get help with this one by asking each person to take a bite (really quietly, under my breath, possibly when they were looking at someone else). i tore that whore up. she couldn't walk for days. no more wondering how i keep my physique folks- this bitch eats. a bunch.
as for romantic exploits, i am tempering my comments about the flavor of the month. aka the dishwasher. if you don't write it down, then you can't get called out for it (like the time i wanted to marry my 11th grade boyfriend and wrote it in my journal or some such ridiculous place). all i can say is this guy solidifies all of the decisions i have made concerning men lately. this chap is my match as far as binge drinking, caustic commentary, and random obsessions are concerned. we shall see. we shall see.
first my job at the local southern ivy league has been dealable. i just have to keep focusing on the paycheck. thanks mom and dad for kicking me in the face when i acted like a social retard.
as for social events, last weekend i went to the racetrack across the kentucky border to lay some cash on the belmont stakes. too bad there were no REAL horses to bet on. just tv screens, betting booths, and about 786 grey haired people with oxygen tanks and salem ultra lights. i lost $9. to top it off, i was the DD for the trip; consequently, everyone else was having much more fun than i. after getting back to nash, we headed to south street where i played vodka catch up and ate grilled grouper and broccoli. unimpressive. then the kitchen manager came out and MADE ME eat some cheesy enchiladas made especially for our table. still unimpressive. then he MADE ME eat the homemade nutty buddy dessert. okay- i tried to get help with this one by asking each person to take a bite (really quietly, under my breath, possibly when they were looking at someone else). i tore that whore up. she couldn't walk for days. no more wondering how i keep my physique folks- this bitch eats. a bunch.
as for romantic exploits, i am tempering my comments about the flavor of the month. aka the dishwasher. if you don't write it down, then you can't get called out for it (like the time i wanted to marry my 11th grade boyfriend and wrote it in my journal or some such ridiculous place). all i can say is this guy solidifies all of the decisions i have made concerning men lately. this chap is my match as far as binge drinking, caustic commentary, and random obsessions are concerned. we shall see. we shall see.
6.12.2006
Reality TV is the 5th Horseman of the Apocalypse
This is the quote from a 17 year old boy in my summer writing program. Can you believe it? I love America's youth. We are in good shape peeps. More to come later.
6.10.2006
Seinfeld gots nothin on this be-atch
okay- i've been officially single for 2 months and realistically single for 8 months. i have been abstinent for 10 months. we are in a dry spell people. like saltines dry. so to remedy this condition, i have been dating or what can be loosely defined as dating.
“now, how do you meet men?”
this is the Q de jour. damn embarrassing when you have to explain to your mother that you get drunk in bars and not indiscriminately, but quasi-indiscriminately pass that shit (aka phone #) out like candy. the good kind of candy though, the halloween chocolate that you won’t share with your scary-ass big brother, but you will give to the girl with the unicorn pen. i have laughed in the faces of some who would desire me, but I have also shown up at radnor lake for a walking date and coveted the position of the road kill on otter road.
the fuzzy cat in the 40 yr old virgin said it best...(misquote to follow) i think its an evolutionary thing. the more seed you sow the more you grow.
he's got a point, but the quality of my crop is diminishing. so let's review the situations and ramifications of passing out your phone # in the music city.
we are working with february to June here... 4 months of cultivation and not a damn thing.
#1- hsv2... get out your physician's desk reference here peeps.
the highlight of the exchanges here included a chinese buffet that tore me up for 2 days and the quickening heart rate that accompanied the glance into his medicine cabinet. lessons learned- always snoop the medicine cabinet. it isn't sneaky; it's survival of the fittest.
fevies aside, i got rid of this cat because HE ATE TOO FAST AND WITH TOO MUCH VIGOR. like he hadn't seen a wanton in a decade. he also talked fast and ALOT. boys should be mute and mysterious. i could not get a word in during phone convos. there are things i can't say in impolite company. also... d-h-ing should cease in high school. if you are going to d-h, you might as well w-h.
the quote of the relationship: poet laureate says, "i'm not 15 years old; i'm 30. i'm not afraid to look at it OR touch it. i just don't want to... look- you beat off; i'm gonna go make coffee."
#2- colgate
my high school professional resume was more impressive than his present day one. he also could not bring himself to brush his teeth before our date AT 4 IN THE AFTERNOON. seriously. saving grace- phenomenally beautiful eyes. lesson learned- do not focus on one aspect of a person's character (or physical make-up). think whole package.
#3- shriaaamp(think bubba gump)
this cat was so short that i TOOK MY SHOES OF IN A BAR to be of equal stature. he called a lot. (think 7 times in one day) he as also affiliated with some gentlemen who made a name for themselves in college with strippers and domesticated animals. dairy products were involved here, too. lesson learned- if you wouldn't have hung out with his group in college, go west young woman.
#4- the 12 year old
hot. smart. 5 years old. his contact with me consists of text messages at 10pm on friday nights. he wants me to meet him out. for what i wonder? he didn't call me the next day, as i suggested, to invite me to an outing that i could tell my mother about. i am too damn old to be anyone's booty call. i call the booty, damn it.
#5- cat with small paws
there aren't enough words. all i can say is... myspace.
you know how your 5 year old niece wants to sit in your lap and play with your hair. well, so does this cat. it's about as sexy. so for his tentative touch and early references to marriage and children- we give him the diss. his hands were also the same size as mine. that's not right for a cat who is over 6 feet tall.
quote of the relationship: poet laureate says, "i think my dick is bigger than yours. either that or your pussy is bigger than mine. i'm done with you."
lesson learned: when someone posts a picture of himself and his cat on myspace, it's never good. or straight.
#6- i'm too sexy
we will just say that this is a friend. a nice boy, but not my boy.
lesson learned: don't drink too much at the local brewhouse and start looking at FRIENDS in a new light. if you didn't want to fondle him in the last 10 YEARS THAT YOU'VE KNOWN HIM then you don't really want to fondle. now i am getting stared at and asked about too much. too much.
#7- i see 47 year olds (think sixth sense)
because i am gettting more astute at avoiding sketchy situations, there isn't much to say. i clocked out when he told me that he had lived with a 47 year old yogi for 3 years. i am sure that she was super hot, but i ain't taking sloppy seconds from a grandmaw. no ma'am. when he calls to go to din din, i will screen baby, screen.
#8- the dishwasher
here lies the great white hope.
he does not wash dishes, but we must not utter his name, as is bad karma.
what if one of his friends was sitting next to us at a bar as we are waxing philo-sex-o-sophical? this is something that would definitely happen to me, so we are weary of discussing, "he who must not be named."
we shall see. we shall see.
6.04.2006
speechless
i thought that it couldn't get worse than meg ryan and tom hanks, but thye've done it. "the notebook" is officially the worst movie ever. hands down, bar none. i would have killed them at the end if they hadn't died.
6.02.2006
from an angel to the crack
the units came through town yesterday/today for their semi-annual visit to the black sheep’s’ town on their pilgrimage to
and as we were sitting around clogging the arterials, my mom wonders aloud what i can do in the summer to earn like, hmmm, 20 or 30 grand (she wasn't kidding)- so that i can stay a teacher and not have to find a new job. my only suggestion was call girl (i was kidding). i figured that i could easily make a grand an hour. her grits disappeared quicker than my ideological philosophies after parent-teacher night. poor mommy.
they drove toward
6.01.2006
riverdale's man
All About Music TV & Film Event – 7:00 pm
Greg Johnson, Jackson Waters, Falling Up, Nevertheless, Sly, and Hawk Nelson
the boyfriend of our favorite hollywood actress is at 3rd and lindsley on 6/14. can't wait.
Greg Johnson, Jackson Waters, Falling Up, Nevertheless, Sly, and Hawk Nelson
the boyfriend of our favorite hollywood actress is at 3rd and lindsley on 6/14. can't wait.
seriously
okay. myspace sucks and i miss my out-of-town amies. (speaking of myspace have you read the article in the new yorker about facebook? must be nice to be a 21 year old millionaire)
so we will see.
here are the rules
1. no capital letters but for
2. no names
okay- my life is a hot mess. literally. i am sitting shirtless in my abode- not because i am an internet perv, but because the air-conditioning broke THREE DAYS AGO (breaking the rules already). three days. there are laws against this; how did quentin compson ever deal with this crap and have to listen to that fruitcake?
as of now... recovering from the trauma of last night. i love it when you can't offer your morning guests anything for breakfast because you don't grocery shop with anyone but yourself in mind (canned tuna fish, soy nuts, and natural peanut butter do not an impressive breakfast make. wait there is some yogurt that is only 3 weeks past date. hot.)
opie- do you have another nursery for me?? i need a mommy.
it's too hot to go out into the world, and my system is for a down today.
fyi- sulfites are my nemesis.
arch, baby.
so let's do an order of operations for last night...
heat(pinot grigio + hotdogs2) - (sharing a bed + birds at 4:30 am) + egg sandwiches in the a.m. = headache and sweats
this mathematical equation is heightened by the terror of a muscular system that has been trashed by ridiculous runs through pwp and the tennis pro's unique form of torture. (bend your knees when you serve bee-atch. arch that back. quit wiggling)
i am off to deposit my 4 cups of morning coffee and start on some gatorade. holy headache.
just realized that the lawn guys can see in my window. i wondered why it was taking them so long to weed whack. adding a shirt to my list of things to do today.
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