A Web-Log of What I Learned Today

T Minus 30

2007-07-20T13:41:00.001-07:00

This blog will self destruct

Fin

2007-07-19T20:48:00.000-07:00

Well, here it is. Exactly one year from the day I learned about pussy, which inspired me to begin this daily venture. I haven't made any money from it yet though. Yet, I say. But I did make some new friends, as well as lost a few, and perhaps even gained a little more closeness and respect from people I already know.
And I had a great time.

So here, for the last time, is what I learned today.

I'm still freaked out by that tape in my pocket thing the other day. What does it mean, and how did it get there? I'm still not entirely sure, so I went to see my Tarot card reading friend, who is also one of my ultra confidants. I just had to see what she thought about it. She knows I don't really believe in card reading, and it kinda creeps me out, but after a bout of begging, I let her pull a few cards for me.

I got "The Star", the "Seven of Swords," and a "Cups" card. She said what she gets out of this combination is that I need to be careful and to take care of myself, that someone is watching over me, and that I'm a messenger from the heavens to the earth.

I think I know what she means.

Then about 30 minutes later, the woman cutting my hair said something to me about Pluto moving into Sagittarius this coming September, which is a time for coming into my own and defining myself. And it means I need to take control of my life.

Let me tell you, I don't believe in any of this shit, but I'm pretty amazed at how perfectly all this stinky stuff describes what's going on with me. Yeah, I know, I took that psychology class too, and I know how easy it is to believe what you hear about yourself. But fuck, some unseen force put that tape in my pocket, and I'm starting to believe anything and everything is possible.

Oh, and I also learned today about an artist who had an 8 inch piece of her skin removed so she could cover a plastic gun with it and make a "skin gun." See it yourself here.

So that's it for today, but I have a few last overall lessons I'd like to share before I go.

-Don't try to do a daily blog. It's fun, but it's difficult, irritating, and nearly impossible.
-Pay attention. Just try it.
-Listen to your gut. It knows more than you do.
-If you ever get a feeling like you should do something, do it. Don't ignore those little thoughts that run through your head. Except of course, if murder is involved.
-Leave before you say too much. That's it.

Heal Thyself

2007-07-18T22:52:00.001-07:00

I can't believe that it's almost my last day of blogging and I don't feel like writing today. I feel more like watching a dumb movie, so I think that's what I'm going to go do. But first, a little something I might have learned.

I visited an old friend today, who has finally started taking the herbalism classes she's been talking about for years. Now she's on her way to becoming an authentic witch doctor. I'm very proud of her. I asked her lot's of questions about it, and I learned a bunch of stuff that I've already forgotten. But I do remember one thing- flower essence therapy.

By leaving an untouched flower in some spring water for a few hours in direct sunlight and asking it to share it's healing powers, you can capture it's vibrational energies. Then you mix the water containing the flowers vibrational essence with a little brandy, put a few drops of it in something to drink, and voilà! Freedom in the 4th dimension.

Actually, truthfully, I find something real and beautiful in the idea. So much of reality exists in our own minds, that I believe the psychological effects of something like this could actually be helpful in removing mental blocks on our roads to health and happiness. Call me corny and tell me to shut up.

Walk Into the Light

2007-07-17T21:02:00.000-07:00

I am so glad to be back home to my own dirty mess. It's funny to me how someone else's muck is gross, yet your own is so comforting.

Anyway, something really weird happened to me this morning. I woke up with a strange cassette tape in the pocket of an ultra comfortable dress that I slept in last night. I don't know if it was there all night or what, but I do know that everybody I know, including myself, swears they didn't put it there. And honestly, I don't know how the hell anybody would have been able to sneak it into my pocket without me noticing.

So, I listened to it when I got home this afternoon, and heard a rather funny man speaking to a crowd at an AA conference in 1978. It was pretty interesting so I listened to one whole side of it. Now I'm not sure which of the following two things I learned today.

A ghost at my aunts house thinks I'm an alcoholic.

Or

I'm a sleepwalking, amnesiac, kleptomaniac.

I used to wish I had some kind of drug problem so that maybe I could find a name and a support group for what's wrong with me, but nothing I ever read about seemed to fit. I've even been to a few AA meetings with friends, and I remember feeling a little left out and envious that I didn't fit in. I'm pretty sure I'm not an alcoholic, and I'm pretty sure that's not denial speaking. I do drink alcohol, yes. And sometimes way too much of it. I'm certainly retarded, but I don't think it has anything to do with whisky. Most of the time. Anyway, I'll pay more attention and see if I can find a reason to call myself an alcoholic.
I also don't think I've ever walked around in my sleep. At night anyway. Sure, I've worked full days at the office while sleeping, but nobody in my house has ever mentioned that I get up and do shit at night. And as far as I know, I have a memory so good it's creepy. I may have blacked out a few things, but done so pretty much on purpose, as far as I recall anyway. I also don't have random things lying around my house that I can't place where they came from.

So that only leaves one possibility-

I was so drunk last night that I don't remember stealing the tape.

Fresno Sucks

2007-07-16T22:14:00.000-07:00

Fuck! I've been trapped in Fresno HELL with no internet since Saturday. Now the battery on my laptop is about to die, so here are a few little tidbits to make up for the lost days.

Don't EVER offer to help somebody move. Especially when it's 200 miles from where you live, and the person, my mother dearest in this case, is already gone.

Black Widow spiders can get VERY VERY big.

Finding free wi-fi in Fresno is nearly impossible.

Shit, the battery is going......

Daily Candies

2007-07-13T22:11:00.000-07:00

I guess it's a good thing I'm down to my last week of this blog, because I've been pretty flaky with it lately. It's not that I don't care, I've just been a little preoccupied. Some big changes are coming up in my life, and I've been thinking more about the future than the present. As much as I'd like to, I can't really say I learned anything today that I didn't already know, but I did waste some time at work today catching up on about 80 old Daily Candy emails I've been ignoring. Most of it was shit that I just deleted, like ads for "handbags" (I totally hate that fucking word) and designer clothes, but some of it was fun and interesting. And lame.

For about 2 seconds about a year ago, I had this crazy idea to make a website showing good, clean places to take a piss away from home, as well as ones to avoid. But apparently someone else had the same idea and didn't dismiss it as another stupid idea. Check out MizPee- Where to go on the go. I'm not kidding.

Have you ever dreamed about peach flavored water right out of your tap? Me neither, but you certainly can have it if you want to. Go to Pur Flavor Options- Where filtered water now has the option of flavor. There's even a game and a quiz to help you decide which flavor is right for you.

Sometimes I'm sitting at my computer for so long that my ass really starts to hurt. Sometimes I have to drive long hours to shit holes to visit relatives and the same thing happens. Why O why can't there be some kind of ass massager I can just plug into my computer or the cigarette lighter in my car to get a little below-the-waist relief? Oh wait, there is! The USB Massage Ball bring you relaxation. (that's not my typo by the way) But don't use it on your hamster, as it's for "human body" only. And it's not for medical treatment, in case you wondering.

Now here's an idea that I almost like. Bookswim claims to be the Netflix of books. Just like DVD's, you can rent almost any book you like and keep it for as long as you want. I love used books, and I like the idea of recycling and reusing them. However. I know when I read a book, it's pretty much wasted by the time I'm done with it. It's folded, ripped and food stained by the time I get to the end. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't want a book back that I've had for a month or so, which is about how long it takes me to get through one these days.

And finally, something I really love, the Pooled Blood Pillow. It speaks for itself. With several drip patterns to choose from, I'm really upset that it sold out in May. And it was only 13 bucks!

Target ="_blank"

2007-07-12T23:03:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling bitchy and retarded
and I don't feel like writing right now.

Jeu Sous la Pluie

2007-07-10T22:25:00.000-07:00

I was just laying out in the backyard and it started raining on me. I wasn't really expecting that to happen, but I'm going to go enjoy it while I can.

Parthenogenesis

2007-07-09T22:57:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, a few female soil mites sat around complaining about the male soil mites, and after lengthy conversation decided that they had had enough.
"Fuck 'em," they all said.
"Or not," smiled one particularly bitter yet clever she-mite.
And without realizing it, those two little words started a revolution, and the female population started reproducing without putting out.
The males grew furious, then desperate. They moved quickly from cursing to begging.
"Come on baby. Please? I need you."
"Not in a million years," echoed through the dirt piles.
And the males began to disappear.

Then one day, almost exactly a million years later, a bedraggled male was seen crawling over a dirt clod in the distance.
"What about now?" he choked out.
When the females finally stopped laughing, a silence spread over the crowd. They all looked at each other, afraid to say what they were thinking. Then one brave and lonely female shrugged her little antennae and said, "Eh. Alright. Sure. Come on over."
And the Crotoniid mite fuck-fest began.

This is a true story. Here's proof- I Give Cloning for Sex

Love and War

2007-07-08T23:58:00.000-07:00

I just didn't feel like sitting in front of my computer last night, so I flaked on my blog and sat outside for a few hours. It was the first time I'd been home alone at night in months, and it was too good to waste doing what I usually do. Instead, I looked at the stars and made up a few more Donnalations- constellations a la moi. Now I have a dragonfly and an alligator to add to my list, and I saw the most amazing shooting star ever.
Now that my excuse is out of the way...

Today I got stung by something! I didn't get to see what it was, but since there are a lot of wasps building nests in the backyard, I'm assuming that's what it was. I came inside from lying in my hammock and I felt something on my arm. Without thinking, I brushed it off and immediately felt the worst burning pain, and it got worse by the second. I knew right away that I'd been stung, and I was pissed! I felt so violated. Fucking wasp. What did I do to you? Have I knocked down your ugly little paper nests? No. Have I sprayed poison all over your incubating larva? No. Have I let you eat my food right off my plate? Yes! And this is what you do to me?
A few minutes later I felt all shaky and anxious. The bump started getting bigger, and then it started to swell. It burned. It hurt. A lot. Then I was nauseous. It felt just like love.
So what did I learn from this?

Wasps are assholes and venom makes my stomach hurt.

Tabasco Saucy

2007-07-06T22:28:00.001-07:00

Today was another one of those glorious days of volunteering at the museum. Three precious hours of quiet solitude, just me and some pretty amazing art. Expect for that freak who spent 15 minutes telling me he was an artist because he used to make origami mobiles. Fucking paper birds. That's not art.
I did get to meet one of the actual artists though, who came in to show her painting (of a naked woman with trees growing out of her body while lying on a bare foot running coffin with dripping candles all over the place) to a friend. I was glad she did, because I got to ask her what the title of her piece meant. We spent quite a while talking, and now I know what La Malinche means.

La Malinche was a mistress and translator for Cortes as he conquered Mexico. Also known as Dona Marina, she is pretty much the Mexican equivalent to our American Pocahontas or Sacagawea, but instead of the reverence our Native American heroines receive, most Mexicans despise her. Not realizing that by utilizing her multi-lingual skills she probably saved thousands of lives with verbal negotiation, she is thought of by many as a traitor.

It's not exactly like it's her fault that Cortes took over Mexico. Even though he said himself, "After God we owe this conquest to Dona Marina," he probably would have done it anyway. She just happened to be the hottest of 20 slaves girls given to him and his men to "grind their corn," and she spoke a few languages his translator priest did not.

She is also considered the Eve of Mexico, since Cortes knocked her up with a son, creating the first Mestizo.

When I came home and started reading more about her, I got all excited about the possibility of making a movie about her story. Then I read that Antonio Banderas is already doing a film on Cortes called "Conquistador," and Ron Howard is working on a similar tale called "The Serpent and the Eagle." At least I'm in good company.

Freak Without Warning

2007-07-05T21:02:00.001-07:00

If you drive really fast, you save gas.

It's true. I just did an experiment and proved it. I had to pick my son up from work about 20 miles away, which usually sucks an hour and 10 bucks of gas out of my tank by the time I get home. But today I was feeling a little more wild and reckless than usual, and since it was just me in the car I put the windows down, the music up, and drove as fast I could. It was really great speeding just for fun, instead of being late which is my usual excuse. It was almost as thrilling as that Sky Swing thing I did in Reno a couple of years ago. I felt so bad-ass with my hair flying and AC/DC pumping out of my momma van.
What a retard.
Most of the time when I go pick him up, the little orange gas light has been on for 3 days, so I'll have to put in $10.00 on the way out of town. By the time I get back home, the light is on again. But today, no orange light. See what I'm saying? It's totally true.

I also learned something else that's good to know.

You can do 85 in a 45 in a small town and not get caught if you drive a momma van.

I suspect it's because cops aren't really on the lookout for innocent looking blonde's driving recklessly in minivans. Another one of my theories I've been testing for the last few years now.
I wonder how far I can go with it?

My Favorite Holiday

2007-07-04T14:26:00.001-07:00

Things falling out of the sky have always turned me on.
Especially fireworks.
I love everything about fireworks.

Every single little thing.
The echoing booms in our little valley.
The explosion of light and color.
The smell. Ahhh, the smell.

In fact, I love fireworks so much that I'm going to be them someday.

Check this out. Angels in Flight. This is the corniest one so I put it first.

This one is slightly better. Heavens Above Fireworks.

Why do they have to have such lame websites for such a great product?

I really want to go on and on today about how much I love 4th of July and why, and how it isn't about America and freedom for me, but gathering and community and a common bond, but I've got too much to do right now.
Then I wondered if maybe those things are what the United States is actually about.
Or would be, could be, should be.

Then I realized what it's really all about.

Beef.

Hamburgers, hot dogs and sausage.

Artificial Intelligence

2007-07-03T23:22:00.001-07:00

I picked up an old newspaper at work the other day, and a headline saying something about firstborns having a higher IQ caught my eye. I really wanted to read it, but I was too busy at the moment so I put it into pile #C-332812 of things I needed to do. Today, almost 3 weeks later, I finally read it. Basically, it said that children born first get more attention, are treated as leaders and live with higher expectations from their parents, resulting in higher intelligence levels.
I really can't understand why it took some Norwegian doctor studying IQ tests taken by men joining the army to figure that out. I knew that shit when I was five. But that's probably because I'm the big sister.
Then I did some more reading about it, where I learned something I found kind of interesting.

Teaching benefits the teacher more than it does the student.

I love that. Here's a great explanation from Stanford psychologist Robert Zajonc.
"Explaining something to a younger sibling solidifies your knowledge and allows you to grow more extensively. The younger one is asking questions, and challenging meanings and explanations, and that will contribute to the intellectual maturity of the older one."

So, my little étudiants, I'd say that even though you probably didn't learn anything from today's lame posting, after 329 daily lessons here at What Donna Learned Today, (minus a few bullshit days) not only are you smarter, but so am I. By about 3 points, to be sure.

The North Wind

2007-07-02T23:37:00.000-07:00

I just woke up a few minutes ago. Something came over me earlier today, and I couldn't keep my eyes open. My legs ache and I feel weak.

"For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth, so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

So shall he descend
to
your
roots
and
shake
them
in
their
clinging to the earth. "

For years I had that written on the wall above my bed. Some passion came over me and I did it without even thinking. I finally painted over it a few years ago, but it's still there. I can't see it, but I can smell it.

I don't know if this counts as what I learned today, but I had a realization right before I crawled out of bed just now.

I'm sick of poetry.

I'm sick with poetry.

I'm sick.
I need to eat a steak.

For the rest of what Kahlil Gibran has to say about love, click the X below.

X

And I absolutely love this.

Mental Savasana

2007-07-01T13:57:00.000-07:00

I don't know if I really learned anything today, but I have developed a new theory for myself this morning.
Back when I was either smart enough or stupid enough to do Bikram's Yoga, there was a pose I absolutely loved, #13. Savasana, also known as the corpse pose, is when you're allowed to lie completely still on your back while your body "enjoys the benefits of all your hard work." A brief savasana between every pose ensures maximum integration of the benefits, or so they say. All I know is that I loved it.
Lately I've been feeling the need for a little time to sit and sort out all of the shit going on in my head, and piece together all of the little flying things buzzing around in my life. I want some time to digest everything, as well as enjoy all the benefits of my hard brain work.

So my new theory is thus-
Everyone needs to make time for a little mental savasana in their lives. Some time in between major events, and minor ones too for that matter, to enjoy the benefits of all their hard work. To ensure maximum integration of the benefits of whatever the hell it is they do that gets them through the day.

Namaste.

Takk Fyrir

2007-06-29T22:05:00.000-07:00

Today I learned how to say thank you 465 different ways, because I'm 465 times grateful that I don't have to babysit my mother's stupid ass dog for the next two weeks.

The one she calls my "beautiful and smart 4-legged sister."

Bioluminescent Brain

2007-06-28T23:51:00.000-07:00

So I was searching around the internet for a picture of a brain today, when I found this website.

The Icelandic Phallological Museum

I only wish each image had a description under it.

I seriously was looking for a picture of a brain though. Today I interviewed my amazing neighbor, who just wrote a book about his theory on the development of the conscience in the brain. I thought I'd just skip across the street for an hour or so, but two hours later I was still in his backyard and my own brain was spinning with enlightened thoughts and possibilities.
I've read a fair amount on brain development and how the brain works, and I find it absolutely amazing. But usually when I think about it too much, I get the same kind of empty feeling in my gut that I get when I think about the size of the universe, and the possibility that there might be something outside of the universe as we think we know it. It was strange though that after talking with David today, (not the one in this picture) I felt surprisingly calm and peaceful. Maybe it was because he helped me understand how we actually do create our own reality, and how every 10 seconds (or something like that) we completely recreate ourselves.

At least according to his theory.

Here's his website if you're interested.

Psychespalace.com

A Grand Grand-Opening

2007-06-27T21:09:00.001-07:00

If you build it, they will park illegally and ram into you with their teeny little carts.

Today was the grand opening of Whole Paycheck Market here in town, and you would have thought from the stampeding crowd that they were giving away free organic, fair trade coffee beans by the ton. I couldn't believe how excited the entire town was over the opening of a simple grocery store. I love Whole Foods, don't get me wrong, but it's not like we used to have to walk miles and miles in the snow to find a Paraben-free bar of soap.

Ah, but they had Indian food. And warm naan. And spicy chocolate. And bread pudding covered with whiskey sauce.
And my favorite shampoo was already on sale.

Diva Donna Day

2007-06-26T22:54:00.000-07:00

Today is National Columnists Day!

Thank you.
Thank you very much.

Just Another Crack Kase

2007-06-25T23:27:00.000-07:00

Today I learned...

Or should I say didn't?

Tartar Control Alcohol Free Mojito

2007-06-24T21:20:00.001-07:00

If I was fried yesterday, then I'm charred today. Burnt and crispy. But I had a great time abusing my media privilege's, taking pictures and eating free food. Now it's time to pay the piper, as they say, and I've gotta regurge some of what I took in these last two days, which means I'll have to make this a quickie.

Don't buy the $8.00 Sprite/Mouthwash combo they're calling a Mojito at the next NASCAR event.

You're much better off with a $12.00 beer. Just don't bring it into the media room.

Decadent and Depraved

2007-06-23T21:54:00.001-07:00

I. Am. Completely. Fried.

Physically and mentally. What a day. I could only handle about 4 hours out at Infineon Raceway today, but not for the reasons I expected. I'm very surprised to say that being there was a completely thrilling experience, especially being down in the pit area. For the record, I am NOT a racing fan. But, as my informative and knowing companion today Mr. JMB pointed out, hanging out in the garages with the NASCAR drivers and their pit crews was like being backstage at a Led Zeppelin concert, and I couldn't help but get off on it a little bit. Ok, a lot. I loved it. I learned so much today that my head is spinning. But, since I'll be writing all about my experiences with NASCAR for the newspaper, I'm going to share my other newest favorite addiction I picked up today- the press room.

Ahhh, the press room. Or as they call it out at the former Sears Point Raceway, the media room. I couldn't wait to see it. I admit, the main reason I agreed to this adventure was hopes of experiencing something like chapter two of The Great Shark Hunt by Hunter S. Thompson. But sadly, or actually more likely luckily, they no longer serve alcohol to the media. Oh well. They had just about everything else though, just there for the taking. A huge refrigerator full of food and drinks, baskets of candy, trays of cookies and cheese cake, and Red Bull everywhere you turned. I had 2, so this might be a really long posting tonight. Oh, and let me never forget the beautifully catered lunch tent, exclusively for the media peeps. Sweet Gonzo, what did I do to deserve this juicy reward? Just hanging out in the company of the Associated Press, ESPN, TNT, and every major newspaper I've ever heard of, was excitement enough for me. I know, I'm completely weird. But I just love the press atmosphere and I felt so, I don't know, pleased or something to be a part of it all, even though I'll probably only get out 600 words to a weekly small town rag.
So I was happily enjoying the little room with the big windows, my mouth full of M&M's, when I peeked my head into an adjacent room and discovered something even more magical- the Deadline Room. The best thing I learned about today.

Posted outside the Deadline Room a seating assignment listing the names of major newspapers, television and radio stations, and more. Inside was a giant wall of window, lined with rows of laptop covered tables and chairs. Each workstation was equipped with individual electrical, phone and internet outlets. The Boardroom of the Non-conferring Gods. This is where those hard working, well fed, lucky people get to puke out what they see to the rest of the world, as fast as technologically possible.

Somehow I didn't know such a place existed, and I'm not exactly sure why I'm so enthralled with it. Today wasn't a big race day, but tomorrow... Tomorrow is the Superbowl of racing, and I can't wait to see that room in action.

Reclining Nude

2007-06-22T23:23:00.000-07:00

I'm not a huge Matisse fan.

I mean, I like his work, but perhaps in his case, less would be a lot more. I spent today at the MOMA in the city, where I saw so many nude sculptures, drawings, and paintings that they all started to look the same. I stopped seeing them. Maybe if I cared enough to read every little description under every "Reclining Nude," I would have appreciated them more, but I just wasn't interested enough. I liked them, but how many do I need to see in one day? And why did he have to keep doing the same thing over and over and over? I started to get a little uncomfortable thinking about this guy sitting there killing the same dead bird again and again.

But I did love his gouaches découpés, which were like kindergarten construction paper cut out collages. Very much.

Now I feel like eating paste.

And this was AMAZING! I can't stop thinking about it. Check out Anthony McCall for more information.

It was like a dream. Like dying in a good way. I'll never forget those moments or that indescribable sensation. I hope this is what the end is really like.

Discovery Kingdom Indeed

2007-06-21T21:24:00.001-07:00

I think the flat tire this morning should have been heeded as a warning to stay home today. But no, Miss Persistent and Determined had the nail pulled out and the hole repaired so 3/5ths of her family could be 5 dollared to death at a "Theme Park," or whatever Marine World, I mean Six Flags, I mean Discovery Kingdom qualifies as. It should be called Six Minutes, which is exactly how long it took me to remember why I don't go to places like that anymore. The people, the lines, the ricockulous prices. After the second ride, which lasted about 1/10th the time it took to wait in line to get on it, I started questioning the intellectual capabilities of the employees whom I just entrusted with the life of my baby. What kind of questions does this place ask during the hiring process these days?
Wait, I don't want to get into this right now. What I want to get into, or onto or under or something, is the shark. THE shark, in the Shark Attack, underwater exhibit thing.
Wow.
I thought the thing had legs. Seriously. I was confused. (wow, i haven't heard that phrase in a while.) I honestly (really, truly, not kidding) thought this was a walking species of sharks that I'd never heard of because I don't really pay much attention to trendy, blown out of proportion scary things. See this picture here? That's nothing. The shark I fell in love with, which was called a Longnose Sawshark, was the Ron Jeremy of the giant aquarium. Which reminds me of a new favorite blog I found, Weird Meat. Go spend some time there. Anyway, when I came out of my stupor, I realized it was pretty unlikely that this shark could walk on land and that these were probably just his extra giant reproductive organs. Plural. Double. Dos. Two.
But, I wanted to be sure, so I came home and immediately image searched "shark penis," which wasn't as interesting as it sounds.

My gentle giant's "legs" were in fact, a dual set of peni called "claspers."

I'm starting to feel like I should be doing a blog titled, "Weird and Hot Ways Animals Get Laid." Check out my spider sex lesson, and lobster love and you'll see what I mean. I wonder if I could make a career out of it?

Ok, I'm done with what I learned today, but I somehow feel the need to blahhg about how the power went out a few hours before the park closed, and how we all had to leave early, and how I'll never forget the look of "Now what?" on all the newly freed faces leaving the turnstiles, and being caught in the fleeing crowd with the feeling of marching in Exodus through the hot and dry land of Vallejo, California, with 40 lbs strapped to my back while I tortured my 3-day chain smoked lungs uphill to our $15 parking space Six Miles away.
Wow. I think I need another cigarette.

Room 108

2007-06-20T21:41:00.001-07:00

If the hotel you're making reservations with suddenly offers you a 40% discount for no apparent reason, it isn't because they value you as a frequent visitor.

It means they already knew that room 109 was planning an all night raging party and that room 107 is undergoing some pretty serious reconstruction. It also means the vending machines and all the safety lighting and munchy-needing party traffic are directly outside your door. It almost goes without saying that Big Bertha is taking dance lessons up in room 208. It most definitely means that the bathtub plugger-upper thingy is broken and you'll have to keep the water running constantly if you want to take a nice relaxing bath, which sorta ruins the spa-like atmosphere you're desperately trying to create. And it obviously means you'll be on the floor crying while searching for an outlet to plug in the teeny tiny little one cup coffee maker, and when you find it, it will be just about an inch too far away from actually making the necessary connection.

The good thing is that the black-out curtains worked really, really well. Or maybe it was the wine. Anyway, I slept great. There were 2 big beds, and with the exception of about 45 minutes, I had an entire queen-size all to myself. Somehow I managed to sleep more hours during the last 3 days than I did the entire month of May.

Black Water

2007-06-18T13:49:00.000-07:00

I'm on vacation this week. I wish I could say I was spending a few months in Greece, but I've only got a week so I'm just hanging locally. We just got home from a little camping adventure in our "White Trash Weekend" trailer. It's been years since we've taken that thing out, and it's the first time my 4 year old got to come along. It was quite the learning experience for all of us. Here are some examples-

All of the other camper-trailers made in the early 1970's have been destroyed by now, or are living in hidden places guarded by guns and dogs.

Surrounded by newer and considerably bigger versions of the RV family, we stood out like a hitch-hikers thumb. I loved it. White trash power activate!

If some day you find an extra can-opener in the kitchen drawer, it probably came from the camper.

Few things suck more than trying to open a can of baked beans with a Diva Picnic army knife, so I pussy'd out and went to the on-site general store to buy a replacement can-opener. (Yeah, this wasn't a real camping trip.) For some backwards ass reason, there were plenty of apple corer's, measuring spoons and potato peelers, but not a single, useful can-opener. I couldn't believe that I could buy an ironing board cover and gerbil food, but nothing to open my can O' vegetarian beans. So then I had to crawl barefoot over to the urban professional campers next door to borrow theirs. When I was done, I scratched my ass and farted and left without saying thank you.

Crapping in a real toilet is a privilege I've been taking for granted.

I'm currently living with 4 year old who is completely enthralled with all things potty. Everywhere we go, we have to check out the bathrooms. I'm certain that the biggest thrill of this whole camping trip for him was the toilet in our camper. We've never even used it before, but since that's all he's been telling his friends about, we indulged him with a little pee-pee a la closet. I have to admit, it was kind of convenient not having to walk way down to the public bathroom and wait in line. And it was great when I was too chicken to walk down by myself in the dark when the urge to purge struck after dinner. BUT. It also totally sucked. My ass is too big to squeeze cheese in a Barbie sized throne that doesn't really flush. Every 2 seconds or so, a preschooler would open the unlockable door to see how everything was going. And then there's the end-of-trip emptying of the cache, which leads me to the next thing I learned- the smelly, frightening and comedic technique of dumping "black water," and about a product called "Break-Up Plus" which is a "solid waste liquefier" you're supposed to add to your whatever-you-call-it so it empties easier. We didn't do that. Fun.

Just wear the fucking sunscreen.

I love the sun. I hate sunscreen. I don't know why. It's kinda like wearing a condom or something. When I'm in the sun, I want the sun in direct contact with my skin. Yes, I know the sun rays can be damaging and I could die from skin cancer, blah blah blah. I've been good about protecting the innocent and vulnerable skin of my children, but I just don't want it for myself. Now my shoulders and thighs are totally fried after spending all day kayaking on the river yesterday, and it was painful sleeping last night. But it IS my own fault so I'll not complain. Too much.

Now I'm going to go shower and try to get the campfire smell out of my hair before I run off to do some kid-free gambling, drinking and smoking for a few days. And crapping in private.

Pole Position

2007-06-15T18:33:00.001-07:00

I've been asked to write about the "NASCAR fan encampment" next weekend, over at Infineon Raceway. There's so much more to say about this, so I'll come back here to finish this posting and bag on race fans, but right now I've got to get to a few other things.

I have to spend next weekend at the Blue Lizard Sunscream 200 and the Toyota/Save Mart 350, whatever the fuck that means.

I just got an all-access media pass, and I don't even care one little shit about racing. I'm sure there are people out there who'd trade a truck of Coors Lite and their 2 remaining teeth just to get in, let alone have all-access, but I guess the spoils are wasted on the spoiled.

I wonder if my editor has any idea who he's sending?

Brut Sauvage

2007-06-14T23:27:00.001-07:00

There are 56,000,000
bubbles in a bottle of champagne.

I know, 2 days in a row with the champagne.
I've been working in the city.

Grease Me

2007-06-13T23:00:00.001-07:00

Some sweaty guy told me today that a little nose grease will make
the foam on your cheap plastic cup of champagne go away.

He was right.

Then I didn't want to drink it anymore.

But I did.

What can I say? It was good champagne.

The Un-funny Joke of the IWC

2007-06-12T22:08:00.001-07:00

It's been a long day today and I still have too much shit to do. I'm totally tired, but a bitch's work is never done, so I'll just keep going. I suppose I could have been getting some of my shit done while I yakked on the phone for a few hours this evening, but, well, I didn't. For reasons soon to be disclosed (I fucking hope) I had to do some ass kissing on some guy who may hold the key to my near (again, I fucking hope) futuro chango, so I had to give him some undivided attention. And then I talked to my cousin for a while, and for some reason I need to lay on the floor and play with my hair whenever I talk to her. Some kind of teenage regression takes over me that I can't explain.
So what I'm trying to say in these wasted 150 words is that I don't have time for this, but I learned something interesting from Cousin Jenn today.
She told me the whale tale where that 100 year old weapon fragment was found embedded in the blubber of a recently killed Bowhead whale off the coast of Alaska. In case you missed it like I did, read it here. I didn't know people were still killing whales, so today I learned...

People are still killing whales.

Why? Does anybody use whale oil anymore? Are we so hungry that we need to eat whale meat? I love whales, but I'm not one of those whale-loving freaky chicks getting my panties pulled too tight (mainly because I'm usually not wearing any). I just thought whaling was an out-dated, old fashion practice that was banned a long time ago.
So I did a little research. Admittedly little, but here's what I found.

Whale oil is rarely used anymore.

Obesity is a global epidemic. 1 in 10 children are obese. Even developing "starving" countries are starting to show percentages in their overweight population.

The International Whaling Commission is about as effective as our current immigration system.

Basically what I got out of the 4 minutes of scanning the IWC on Wikipedia is that participation by countries in the organization is voluntary, the IWC has no authority to enforce whale killing quotas, and even if they did have authority, there are two HUGE exceptions to the rules, which basically leaves the whole idea of regulation as water tight as swiss cheese.

Too Busy to Hate

2007-06-11T21:57:00.000-07:00

It's 85 degrees in Atlanta right now.

For some reason, I can't seem to write anything else right now.
I think I'm lost.

Zoogleal Mat

2007-06-10T22:20:00.000-07:00

What a fucking day.

It's been a non-stop cluster fuck. I've been running around like crazy, just trying to keep up with myself, let alone my special needs family, (just kidding guys) and I'm still not there yet. It doesn't help that I'm PMS bitchy either. I usually look forward to the day before I bleed, because I'm a total hardcore bitch and I get shit done. But not today. I'm just cunty without a cause. Or effect.

Have I accomplished anything other than hating, carpooling and barking commands all day?
Yeah. I finished my article for the paper. I'm happy about that, even though it was about my ex-husband and his wife. It's nice too, if you can believe that. Yeah. But the "great pictures" they said they have are crappy and the wrong dpi so I can't use them. Of course.

I did have a nice little respite this afternoon though. Since it's near impossible for me to get any writing done at home during the day (and I'm now 2 days late on my promised deadline) I took my laptop up to the coffee shop with hopes of getting something accomplished. I felt completely pretentious walking in with my bag slung over my shoulder. I hate those people who sit in public and write. Go home and take up your own space with all that shit. Nobody cares that you're a writer. Except I totally get it now. These poor hacks have children.
Anyway, would you believe that when I finally got over my apprehension about walking into my sanctuary all uppity writer like, I am met with a loud ass band playing? Where was my quiet little sunny table, with the hot, other-writer guy sitting across the room? Where's my jasmine green tea? And who the hell are these well dressed people clapping at mediocre music? FUCK.

Luckily, amazingly, thankfully, the owner of the tattoo shop next door was standing in line. As you may know if you've been a faithful reader, or even a semi-faithful one, Jim has become a friend of mine since I've been spending some time in his shop with my tarot card reading friend. He invited me to come use the old piercing room in the back, to which I nearly got on my knees and started kissing his cool shoes.

So I stayed until they closed. It was heaven. My own little room with power, internet and cool music. And cute chairs in my favorite shade of green, and a picture of Johnny Cash staring at me. The only time I was interrupted was when he gave me a beer, and told me about something I'd never heard of. I nearly cried out in orgasm.

Wait a minute. What am I writing here, a diary?

Well, now that I've wasted all of my time just getting to the point and I still have my column to write, I'll have to be brief with what I learned today.

Jim let me try some new tea thing he had, called Kombucha. It's a fermented, sugar sweetened black tea. It's made by throwing in some wad of yeast culture science project thing and sitting for a week. It's supposed to be really healthy for your body, for reasons I'm too tired to explore. Here are a few links if you want to read it yourself. You'll see stuff like "a bacterial product from the gut microbiota that can cleave the glucuronic acid conjugates."

Kombucha.org

Kombucha on Wikipedia

The Sorcerers Apprentice. That should tell you something.

I'm afraid to post any pictures, as the ones I found look like abortion, or liposuction byproduct. But what did it taste like you ask? Well, it was weird. But, as someone just recently pointed out to me, "weird" describes nothing so I'll see what adjectives I can come up with.

Bitter.
Acid.
Alcohol.
Vinegar.
Wrong.
Addicting.

I'm going to go buy some tomorrow.

I Can't Think of a Good Title Right Now Because I'm Fighting With My Kids

2007-06-09T18:17:00.001-07:00

I just got home from my first day as a volunteer at the art museum and it was fantastic! I clicked around in my cute little shoes and pretended it was my very own gallery, just like I've been dreaming about. It was just me and the security guard there, so I was the one in charge of the entire building. I loved everything about being there, especially discussing the exhibit with visitors as they left.
And it was quiet. Very quiet. I like quiet.
I got to sit and do nothing for a little while. Then I did some reading. Goya. Amazing man.
Spain in the early 1800's. Strange time.
The volunteer guide book. Interesting read. There was a whole page on multicultural manners, listing things to do and not do with people from other countries and people with handicaps.
And then I did some writing, because I promised I'd turn in two articles on Friday. The day before today.

So today was a day FULL of learning, but I'm heading out to a party and I don't have much time.

The art museum is my favorite place in town. It's also the best place for me to write.

Francisco Goya was deaf.

Spain was a horrible place to be in the early 1800's. The nobility to commoners rate was about 27 to 1, and crime was out of control. Look it up sometime. It's interesting.

In most other countries, it's rude to give the thumbs up sign. I'd love to elaborate, but I've gotta run.

Win-Win

2007-06-08T21:43:00.001-07:00

Last night I took a $50 dare to wear my tiara for an entire week, wherever I go. Shit, doesn't he know I'd wear it every day for nothing? Then I traded my 50 bucks for a pack of smokes, 7 days early. Plus, now I have a legitimate excuse for wearing it in public.

I didn't learn anything today, but I thought I'd share how much fun it is riding my bike on the highway, wearing my beloved tiara.
Well, I guess I could say I learned a few things.

Like:

It isn't generally accepted by the public to wear a tiara for no reason.
At least 10 people asked me what the occasion was. I just said, "Shut the fuck up and fetch me my slippers."

and

If you really, really need some attention, put on a tiara and stand on a corner waiting to cross a busy street.
At one point on my way home today, at least 5 people were staring at me at the same time, for what seemed like an hour.

and maybe even

If you're some kind of freak and like having long, meaningless conversation with the woman working at the bank, wear a plastic tiara with the gold paint chipping off and missing a few fake gemstones when you make a deposit.
She'll tell you ALL about the "real one" she bought herself for her 40th birthday, and wore again on her 50th birthday, and everything that happened in between. When you've had enough, show her how the last pink, heart-shaped jewel on your "fake one" flashes when you squeeze it. That'll shut her up.

Legendary Legacy

2007-06-07T21:40:00.000-07:00

Today is Daniel Boone Day.

So I think as his great- great- great- great- great- great- great granddaughter, I should get some special love. I wish I would have learned this a little earlier today since there's only 2 hours left to grovel at my feet. But I'll take it.

I know, I should probably spend a little time talking about the iconic stud, but I've heard all the stories a thousand times so it wouldn't really be like something I learned today.

Beware of Yourself

2007-06-06T22:08:00.000-07:00

Your shit catches up with you.

Some day in the future, some little dumb-ass shit you do now will lay down on the railroad track and stop your happy train. You'll be fucked and it will be your own fault. A little gift to yourself for being so stupid and irresponsible.

Crack Habit

2007-06-05T12:36:00.000-07:00

A miracle happened this morning. I got up early and rode my bike to work. Ok, maybe it's not so miraculous. I haven't been sleeping well, so getting up early was no big deal, and it's barely over 3 miles from my house to the office. It only took about 5 minutes longer to get there than if I drove my car, which was totally worth not getting all road rage-y about lame ass drivers in this town, who for some reason don't understand the concept of merging. Yeah, I'm kind of a bitch.
So by 8:45 this morning, I learned 2 things.

1. It only takes about 20 minutes to ride my bike to work.

2. It's a good idea to wear underwear when you ride your bike for 20 minutes or more. Your crack gets kinda sweaty and there's nothing there to really absorb the moisture.

Blah. I hate wearing underwear. Besides, all of mine somehow disappeared. Seriously, I have only 2 pair now, out of the 2 dozen I bought not too long ago. WTF?

And speaking of crack, this picture here is an ass painting. Male, obviously.

Read more about the art teacher who got suspended for selling these beauties, right here.

Cell Phone Rude-iquette

2007-06-04T15:53:00.000-07:00

Today I spent half of my lunch standing in line at the bank. Apparently one of the entire crew of two tellers working was new and couldn't figure out how to use the computer, and the supervisor couldn't be disturbed while she performed the important task of inhaling smoke right outside the front door. So not only did I learn a great way to run a bank, I learned that some people are worse with their money than I am, and just about everything I might want to know about the girl ahead of me in line while she yakked to her boyfriend on a cell phone. Her friend Randy was just diagnosed with something terrible, she's going to Europe in three days, and the ATM machine at another bank ate and then shredded her bank card. There's more but I'll spare you. But what I really learned today was,

It really is rude to talk on your phone inside the bank.

I do it all the time, but I never realized how damn irritating it was. Thanks for the lesson, Brian's girlfriend.

I wonder why it's so irritating though. Would it be any different if Brian were standing in line with her while they discussed her stupid job? Is someone on their phone in a restaurant any more irritating than a large family having casual conversation at the table next to you? I don't know. Somehow it is, but I can't really figure out why.

And I thought this was interesting even though it's a bit dated.
Cell phone health risks for children.
(and rats)
(who are notorious for using their phone's while standing in the cheese line)

Sunshine on my Heart

2007-06-03T21:18:00.001-07:00

I got a terrible sunburn today, right over my heart, but I sort of like it. I'm going to wear it with pride, like a badge of honor for my beloved sun. Or maybe like a badge of stupidity for not knowing when enough is enough. Perhaps I'll wear it like a badge of infidelity, for betraying the security of the moon. My son thinks it looks just like a butterfly, so maybe it'll be a badge of metamorphosis. Or something.

Besides realizing today that the sun has awakened a poetic streak in me lately, I learned from my four year old the true definition of perfection.

per·fec·tion [per-fek-shuhn] –noun

1. sitting naked outside in the morning sunshine, in front of an easel, thoroughly immersed in the pleasures of spreading color on every inch of white paper with a paintbrush.

2. being a mother, sitting quietly and observing this beautiful scene.

3. eating Chunky Monkey and listening to your favorite music while writing and reliving the beautiful moment.

21 Beat Street

2007-06-02T20:50:00.000-07:00

Today I got to see my little guy perform on stage for the first time. He's the only boy in the class, and it was pretty cute seeing him up there tapping the alligator dance with a bunch of girls in tutu's. He really wanted to wear one too, but the teacher made him wear a bow-tie instead. Poor guy. But he had a lot of fun anyway, and we all had a great time watching the variety of dancing they teach at the academy, from Hip-hop to Hula.
I learned a few things too.

My son is a ham.

I like breakdancing.

The academy teaches belly dancing.

So today I decided to sign my son up for every dance class I can find, fuck the breakdance teacher, and start taking belly dancing classes.

Just kidding. I would never take belly dancing.
Ok, seriously. I'll take the belly dancing and leave the teacher alone. He's probably too young anyway.

Non-traditional Sushi

2007-06-01T14:33:00.000-07:00

Sushi made with brown rice is fucking good!

And it's good for you too.

Making Steps

2007-05-31T21:28:00.001-07:00

Today I finally did something I've been wanting to do for a long time now. A few weeks ago I signed up to be a volunteer at our local art museum, and today was my first day of training. It wasn't much to learn, but it was fun.

So today I learned how to run the front desk, and to be a "greeter."

Obviously.

There's really not that much else to say about it, so I guess that's it for today.

Torn

2007-05-30T21:54:00.001-07:00

I went to visit my grandma in the hospital again today, and on the way home I saw the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen. Not even in Hawaii were the sunsets this amazing. It's possible that this particular seen was so enchanting because I rarely see the sun set right on the horizon since I live in a little valley. I usually see the sun set on top of the mountain right outside my window, and it's usually not much to get excited about.

A few minutes after seeing this memorable sunset through my rear view mirror, a huge and glorious full moon met me around the corner. Usually the sight of a full, orange moon coming over the hill pleases me like nothing else, but somehow today it just didn't do much for me. It was wonderful, but after seeing that stunning scene with the sun, it just didn't quite have the magic it usually does for me.

I haven't figured out yet if I've learned anything from this experience, but I can't stop thinking about it. Somehow I feel a little sad.

Something Like This

2007-05-29T21:37:00.002-07:00

60% of women characters in online role playing games are actually played by men.

Or something like that. I don't even know if it's true, but Rebecca read it somewhere today and I liked it. She said it's because they get treated better and can make more money being strippers.
Or something like that. I love it. It says so much.

Queen of the Night

2007-05-28T23:00:00.001-07:00

I just got in from another thrilling game of hide-and-seek outside in the dark of night. A few times a year my boys and their friends will talk me into playing with them for an hour or so. It's hard to say no to a group of begging teenage boys, so I'll put on a bunch of black clothes and kick their little asses around the 'hood.

So what could I possibly learn from this? A few things. I don't want to give away any of my stealthy new hiding secrets, but I will say this-

I'm the fucking queen of hiding.

I only got found once and that's because one of the losers ratted me out.

It's a little embarrassing when you find out one of the neighbors is watching you, and it's kind of hard to explain what you're doing. Especially when one of the favored hiding spots is in a giant garbage can and you're certain someone has to be down there somewhere. It's also a little creepy when you're crouched down in some ingenious yet calf-cramping pretzle position for 15 minutes and you feel something crawling on you.

Somehow this isn't exactly what I meant when I wished to be surrounded by boys when I grew up, but we have a lot of fun and I get to feel like a kid again. I highly recommend it, but, play at your own risk. Don't blame me if someone calls the cops on you. Or you get shot, or eaten by a dog, or break your leg or whatever might happen. That would be your own fault for listening to someone who's almost 40 and running around at night with black pantyhose on her head.

Kekipi Yell

2007-05-27T22:23:00.001-07:00

I learned a few things today, and pretty much all of them are from this new book I bought the other day. It's a pretty good story that takes place in Hawaii, and I'm enjoying forgetting the rest of the world as I get more and more absorbed into it.

One of the things I learned is a new Hawaiian word. One character in the book is named Kekipi, which means "rebel." I love that.

I also learned what pikake is. In one chapter, the guy is describing his lovely Hawaiian yard and I didn't understand what he was talking about, so I looked it up. Pikake is a very fragrant Hawaiian jasmine, commonly used in lei making. It's named after a peacock, because the island princess Kaiulani adored both the bird and the flower.

Lastly, I've found that reading a book about a beautiful, tropical island that you miss terribly, at the same time you're fantasizing about escape, is horribly agonizing.

A Brief Lesson on Nothing Much

2007-05-26T20:49:00.001-07:00

My Colonel told me today that the sea level is about 400 feet higher now than it was 10,000 years ago.

I don't know why and right now I don't care, but I'll believe him so I can go out and play.

If for some reason you want to learn more about it, just Google search "sea level" and read it for yourself on Wikipedia.

Until tomorrow...

Just For Me

2007-05-25T23:00:00.000-07:00

Lately it feels as if my alone-time cup time hath runneth completely dead and dry. I've been dreaming about giant bubbles that I crawl into and escape from the rest of the world. Today I was feeling a definite need to spoil myself, but I only had about an hour and a credit card that might work. So I took a chance and went down to the bookstore in search of a specific book, and luckily for me, they had exactly what I was looking for. Luckier still, my credit card didn't embarrass me.
I felt stupidly guilty buying myself a brand new book. A hardcover no less. Usually I prefer an old, used paperback for 50 cents from a secondhand store. I hate thinking about a book being read only once and by only one person. I love a book that's been around and seen some action. But the book I was craving wasn't available in paperback yet, and couldn't be found in the used section, so a brand new hardcover it was. Step one in spoiling myself.

Encouraged by the cooperative mood of my little plastic friend, I decided to blow my calorie watching and get one of those fucking awesome sandwiches at my favorite place. (Where were you Miss Lora? I called.) And just because I was feeling so, I don't know, Donna or something, I decided to try a new tea. I'm glad I did. It was perfect. Steps two and three accomplished.

When I got back to the office, I felt like there was still something else I needed, but I didn't quite know what it was. As I got out of my car and started walking towards the door, the vision of sitting at my desk with these new treasures suddenly felt like impending gross misconduct. So I turned around and went back to sit in my sunshine warmed, silver bullet momma van. Addendum step four, complete.

Now let me tell you what I learned about 4 minutes later.

An hour reading a brand new book, all ALONE in my car, while eating slightly warmed proscuitto and brie on Sonoma French bread, is almost as good as a few hours at the spa.

Actually, it might even be better.

Lunatic Phase

2007-05-24T20:58:00.001-07:00

I'm sure there's something I learned today,
but I'd rather be stargazing in my hammock right now.

Here's a little something in case you're terribly disappointed.
Weekly Stargazing Tips

Let's Talk About Conflict

2007-05-23T20:56:00.001-07:00

I was just reading in our local paper about a radio show a guy in town is putting on called "Community Conversation ." He puts two local people together from completely opposite sides of an issue, and records each of their perspectives for 15 minutes with no interruptions. A point/counterpoint kind of thing. So this week he chose a woman who writes a column in our local paper (no, not me) whom he refers to as a "peacenik", and put her up against a local representative of the Minutemen- guys who've taken it upon themselves to bear arms and do some "proactive enforcement of our national security protections and our immigration legal code." The "debate" of sorts, would of course be about this huge issue of illegal immigration and whether or not a person can be illegal.

This "peacenik" just happens to be the same woman who read to us in the park on Mother's Day, (click here if you want to read more about it) and I really love her.

AND/BUT....

I also have some similar issues with border patrol as these, passionate, civil defense peeps.

Wow, I thought. This is going to be good! I couldn't wait to hear it, but then I read that it aired last Friday. Crap, I missed it. Then seriously, like 5 minutes later I see Joan, the peaceful columnist I was just reading about, across the street chatting with my neighbor. I jumped up and ran over there (barefoot and wearing my beloved tiara no less) and asked her all about it. I was all prepared for some good discussion, but that woman quietly and calmly taught me a pretty little lesson.

She prepared herself by getting educated on the issue, and learning as much as she could about the views of the opposition. Then she used her 15 minutes to discuss the things both parties agreed on. When she was finished, the guy from the other side actually came over and shook her hand. He'd been all prepared for a blow out war on the topic and had no rebuttal.

Beautiful.

So I saw and learned today that there are definitely peaceful ways to discuss hot issues, and there are ways we can all work together by simply beginning where we agree.

Or something like that. I can't quite explain how I felt when she finished her story, but she made me think.

I also learned today that a cop will pull over a speeding ambulance if the lights aren't on.

During the transfer of my grandma from one hospital to another, some bored cop had the balls to pull them over for speeding.

The Woman Behind the Curtain

2007-05-22T21:47:00.001-07:00

It feels really good to hear your boss bragging about how great his newest big idea is when you know it's actually your big great idea.

Especially when he's pitching it to somebody else using your exact words.

It feels really fucked up to hear your boss bragging about how great his newest big idea is when you know it's actually your big great idea.

Especially since it would be sooooo easy to mention your name to the person he's trying to pitch it to. Extra especially when that person he's talking to knows, likes and respects you and would buy the entire deal if he knew who's idea it really was.

The Wonderful World of Disney

2007-05-21T21:57:00.001-07:00

I was a VERY naughty girl last night and I didn't get a chance to blog my eagerly sought after daily lesson for yesterday. But what happened yesterday (or very early this morning) happened yesterday (or, you know, very early this morning,) and today is a crazy, beautiful new day. So what did I learn on this bittersweet day of sunshine and sadness? Well, I'll tell you, but it's only a random useless fact that I found somewhat interesting.

Peter Pan is one of only two Disney cartoon movies that feature two parents that aren't dead or die during the movie.

Yay Disney eh?

Today was the first day of rehearsal (yuck, I hate that word) for the play my son is going to be in, so I wanted to look up the lyrics for the songs he'll be singing so we can practice with him. Somehow I came across this little piece of trivia and thought I'd share.

You're welcome.

The Loveable Carshine Boys

2007-05-19T20:51:00.001-07:00

I've been needing to wash my car for about a year now, so when I saw a group of kids doing a carwash in front of the library today, I made a mental note to come back after lunch. BUT, on the way back later, I saw another group of kids doing a carwash just up the block. Suddenly I had to decide which bunch of brats was going to get my money, so I quickly looked for pro's and con's of each group. It came down to two things- who looked like they'd do the best job, and where was the money going to go. Using one form of prejudice to decide the former and another kind for the latter, I rapidly made the important decision. I learned something about myself too, even if it only applies today.

I'm rooting for the underdog.

Usually I root for the one I think deserves to win, but lately I feel like a bit of an underdog and I certainly feel like I deserve to win. So, instead of the spoiled brat rich football kids taking my 10 bucks, it was the group of "at-risk" boys from a "residential treatment center" where they "turn hurt into hope." Yikes. If they don't deserve to win just due to that lame-ass statement, then I'll wash my damn car myself. Maybe next year.

Tacky Hack-y

2007-05-18T21:14:00.001-07:00

A writer friend of mine has a very clever and colorful way of writing. Sometimes he's so canny that I feel like a retard when I'm reading it. Like I don't quite grasp it all. Like sometimes I have to simultaneously refer to a common English dictionary like a translator guide just to get the gist of it. So today I learned a few new words, compliments of Daedalus Howell.

Twee- affectedly dainty or quaint

Drubbing- to beat with a stick or the like

Today when Rebecca and I learned these words, she cleverly suggested that "Twee Drubbing" would be a great name for a band. I agree. Anybody reading here play a flute? I don't think a band with a name like that would be complete without a little Jethro Tull-ish tootling.

And while we're on the subject of words, my Colonel who is well known for his random fact spewing, came out of no-where with some info about the word "sinister." He really needs new glasses, so he's slightly obsessed with his eyes right now, and spontaneously remembered something his optometrist once said about left eyes being something-something sinister. So we looked it up.

As common knowledge, one of the definitions of sinister is- "bad, evil, or wicked." What I learned today was another definition- "of or on the left side." Which reminded me of my high school French class, where we learned that "left" en Francais is "gauche." In both French and English, the word gauche is used to mean tacky, awkward, or lacking social grace. So....

Tacky is evil. And vice-versa.

Right?

Shit is Brown

2007-05-17T21:35:00.000-07:00

It's been a sucky day today. I had lunch with a new friend from the film festival, but I'm pretty sure she was just trying to get me to join in with some pyramid scheme, music download scam thing. I really like her though, and I didn't feel pressured or anything, but you know how those things go. The more people you sign up, the more money you supposedly make, and for "doing practically nothing" you could get rich. I don't know if that was her intention or not, but I felt a little used.
Then later today my friend bailed on me, (she's sick and I don't blame her for wanting to stay home) and now instead of being in San Francisco seeing one of my favorite bands, The Boxcar Saints, I'm sitting here poopy and kinda bored. And I don't have much to blog about.
I did come across something today I somehow wasn't aware of.

Massachusetts is the only state that allows same-sex marriage.

I can't believe that of all the states, not even the great state of California, Massachusetts would be the only one open-minded enough to accept gay marriage. I don't know why the other 49 have a problem with it. There are millions of things to be bitchy about, and two men or women wanting to legally declare their love seems like a waste of bad breath. I personally find marriage to be an outdated religious concept that's had it's reason once upon a time, but we're beyond that now and it's time we ALL move on to something newer and smarter.

Yum

2007-05-16T22:17:00.000-07:00

Freeze dried pineapple is my newest favorite thing.

I didn't learn anything else today, but this was a good thing to learn.

And I can't stop looking at this, www.flickrvision.com

Good Riddance

2007-05-15T22:02:00.000-07:00

Jerry Falwell is gone.

Here's what this old Hustler ad says,

in case you can't read it.

Falwell: My first time was in an outhouse outside Lynchburg, Virginia
Interviewer: Wasn’t it a little cramped?
Falwell: Not after I kicked the goat out.
Interviewer: I see. You must tell me all about it.
Falwell: I never really expected to make it with Mom, but then after she showed all the other guys in town such a good time, I figured, "What the hell!"
Interviewer: But your Mom? Isn’t that a little odd?
Falwell: I don’t think so. Looks don’t mean that much to me in a woman.
Interviewer: Go on.
Falwell: Well, we were drunk off our God-fearing asses on Campari, ginger ale and soda—that’s called a Fire and Brimstone—at the time. And Mom looked better than a Baptist whore with a $100 donation
Interviewer: Campari in the crapper with Mom. How interesting.. .Well how was it?
Falwell: The Campari was great but mom passed out before I could come.
Interviewer: Did you ever try it again?
Falwell: Sure. Lots of times. But not in the outhouse. Between Mom and the shit, the flies were too much to bear.
Interviewer: We meant the Campari.
Falwell: Oh, yeah, I always get sloshed before I go to the pulpit. You don’t think I could lay down all that bullshit sober do you?

-- -- -- -- --

2007-05-14T22:49:00.000-07:00

I don't feel like writing today.

I'm in some kind of bubble right now

and I don't want to come out yet.

The Power of One

2007-05-13T21:20:00.000-07:00

Well, today is Mother's Day. It used to be my least favorite day of the year until I wised up and let go of my pre-meditated fantasies of being queen for a day. It just never happened and I accept that now. I'm a lot happier without those unrealistic, ricockulously commercialized expectations. Or chocolate. Or carnations. Or a crown. Seriously, I feel better about it all now.
So today I did this, an alternative to today's notions of what Mother's Day should be. (click it because I'm getting a nice, well deserved massage right now and I don't have time to explain) (yeah right) Now don't get me wrong. There are few things I hate more than mother's clubs and peace rallies, and that's not what this was. For me it was about getting away from the bullshit ideas of honoring women with calories and useless crap, and doing something with meaning and real emotion. And so for the second day in a row, all five of us spent some quality time together. We got picnic stuff from my favorite deli and walked the bike path down to the park to hear the story, "The Great Silent Grandmother Gathering," by Sharon Mehdi. It's about how two grandma's peacefully saved the world, at least for one day. Or something like that. Anyway, I was feeling all empowered when I got home, like I could actually change the world. So I decided to start right on my own street.
We have some new neighbors a few houses down, and every day the garbage pile in front of their house gets bigger and bigger. The picture above is not an actual picture of their house, but it's pretty similar. It really pisses me off when I turn down our cute little street, so happy to be home, and there, spread all the way to the middle of the road, are empty plastic bottles, cigarette packs, car parts, beer cans and more. We used to have the worst front yard on the block, but only because we have toys and dead flowers everywhere.
So today when we got home, I grabbed a garbage bag, walked straight down to their pit, and picked up all their fucking trash. Then I left it by an empty, double-sized can of Budweiser in their front yard.

I didn't really learn anything new today. I already know that littering is a cultural thing, and it's kind of the norm in certain neighborhoods around here. But today I put the wheels in motion for tomorrow, where hopefully I'll learn that my actions today were enough to teach these people about respect and the way we like to live here in California.

Believe It or Not

2007-05-12T21:40:00.000-07:00

We gave up on family vacations years ago because being with three boys in a car, not to mention anywhere else, just wasn't worth the stress. We can barely go across town sometimes without wishing for nuclear bombs to strike and end our misery.
But today we piled all three kids into the Momma-van and we went to visit my grandma. She's having surgery on Monday and I wanted her to have one last look at her great-grandsons, just in case, you know. And, to my complete surprise, there was almost no fighting for the entire 2-1/2 hour trip. Same thing on the way home. Amazing. It's possible that this miracle is due to the fact that I put one kid in the front, one in the middle next to me, and one in the way back, but it doesn't really matter how it happened. The important thing, I think, maybe, I guess, is that we're all still alive.
So anyways, what did I learned today? Well, since I've been sick the last few days, I didn't really spend much time with grandma. While she ooh-ed and aahh-ed over how huge "her" boys were getting, I checked out their local newspaper, sort of comparing it to the fabulous one I write for. It's been a while since I read news that wasn't exclusively wine country navel gazing, and it was surprising to see the world news I've been missing.

Judge Kenneth Robertson Jr. is my newest hero.

Finally, something that makes sense. I read that this guy made some Alabama Wal-mart shoplifters stand in front of the store wearing signs that read, "I'm a thief. I stole from Wal-mart."
Ahh-haahaaa! I wish I could spell laughing my ass off. That's the greatest thing I've heard since my proposal for all criminals to wear a giant bell around their necks like my neighbors poor cat.

Then I read a story about a stupid, irresponsible, semi-local cop.

An off-duty officer left his gun in the bathroom of a bar about 30 minutes from where I live, and he isn't even in trouble for it. A loaded gun in a fucking bar! Click here if you don't believe me.

My aunt (and biggest fan) was also at my grandma's house today, and she was telling us about the new dog she adopted from the SPCA (or whatever the letters are.)

If you're over 60 and get a pet that is older than 6, adoption fees are only $18.00 instead of the usual $100. This is what they call the 6-60 plan.
I had no idea.

Unbelievable? I know. Totally.

Dishonorable Discharge

2007-05-11T22:24:00.000-07:00

Some pictures of me today.

Well, this one isn't actually me. I just wish I really had this nifty little contraption today.

I can't really say that I learned much,but I did watch a lot of TV, where I discovered two things.

There were so many shows starting with "Judge" than I couldn't count or remember them all,

and

every other commercial is about some bullshit drug that nobody really needs.

And I thought this was pretty funny- The Nose Pouch

and this- Tissue box covers using your own photo's.

Las Luces

2007-05-10T21:12:00.000-07:00

I have a good excuse for missing yesterday. I was abducted by aliens.
Ok, not exactly aliens. There was only one.
Alright, so he's not actually an alien. But I did get abducted. Sort of.
Without prior arrangements on my part, my Colonel and I snuck off in the middle of the day yesterday for a little overnight get-away. We were only about an hour from home, but we could have been in another state for how far away it felt. It was wonderful. And I learned some things too.

Always pack a few candles in your suitcase.

Hotel-room keycard thingys work without electricity.

There are plenty of ways to entertain yourselves in a dark hotel room without cable TV. (Well, I might have known that already, but I learned a few new ways last night.)

After playing/losing a bit at the same Indian casino I was just at last week with my friend, the Colonel and I came back to a very dark hotel on a very dark street. Realizing the power was out, we went hunting for beer. Oh, and candles. Luckily we found an open Safeway that still had power a few blocks away. We headed straight to the "ethnic" food aisle for some of those interesting Jesus candles, because they were cheap and funny and we had no money. I love those things. I buy one every once in a while just for the art.
We decided to get the three weirdest ones they had. We grabbed one like in this picture here, because it was weird and cool looking. It says, "La mano mas poderosa," which I just learned means, "Most powerful hand."
Our second choice featured a depressed, half-naked, abused and starving man, wearing a skimpy red dress and limping with a crutch. Not only is that fun, but a wild dog is licking the blood off one of his many wounds and another rabied pack mate can't wait to get in on the action. This was obviously the least popular candle on the shelf, as there was so much dust covering the wick that I was afraid to light it. I don't know who this Lazaro guy is, but maybe some other day I'll blog about him. Here's the best image I could find, but it's pretty small.

Our last selection was the bloodiest Jesus we could find, complete with blood-colored red wax. I can't even read the ghetto-gangsta writing on it to tell what it says, but I swear it looks like "Homo." His light shined for us in the most holy room, where he could have philosophical conversations with his uncle, the porcelain God. Geez-us, that was bad. Sorry.

So today, as instant karma for making fun of religious icons, I have been sneezing almost non-stop. Wait a sec. Is karma a religious thing? I think it is.

Oh yeah. I also learned that these aren't really called Mexican candles. They're referred to as Catholic candles. Which reminds me of my newest bumper sticker idea. "Religion gives God a bad name."

Aaaa-chooo! Sorry, did that get on you?

Failure

2007-05-08T21:25:00.000-07:00

Earlier this evening as my 16 year old and I were leaving the farmer's market, he told me something totally sweet and unexpected.

I don't embarrass him in front of his friends.

"You know, when I'm with my friends and their parents come over, they get all mad and embarrassed. I never feel like that when you come over. I know you're cool and my friends like you."
Wow.
Really? I don't embarrass him? What am I doing wrong here? Maybe I should start scratching my ass in public or something. I need help here! Ideas please.

Criss Cross Under the Bridge

2007-05-07T21:44:00.000-07:00

Today I learned 17 ways to tie my shoes.

Now you can too.

Build a tee pee

Come inside

Close it tight so we can hide

Over the mountain

And around we go

Here's my arrow

And here's my bow!

Lethargy and Logos

2007-05-06T21:14:00.000-07:00

I've been completely brain dead today. I think I might be getting sick or something because even though I've had twice as much tea today as I usually do plus 2 cups of coffee which I normally can't handle, my damn eyes won't stay open. I feel like total crap. Needless to say, I didn't really learn much today. Hey, that rhymes.
Last night before we got to the tattoo shop party, I was pretty tired and not feeling very social, so for the first half hour after we got there, I sat on the couch looking through tattoo books and stuff. One book was called, "Meet Mr. Product" and had every single logo character made for the last hundred years or something like that. It was pretty interesting, and I remembered things from my childhood that I'd totally forgotten. Like these Oscar Mayer weiner puppets I used to play with at my grandmas.

I also learned the name of the character on the Cream of Wheat box. I know, not very interesting, but I didn't know it before so it's actually something I learned.

His name is Rastus.

I forgot how to spell it just now, so I went and looked it up. Then I learned who he was for real. Maybe.

It's thought that the Chicago waiter who made five bucks to dress like a chef and pose for the ad was named Frank White.

There's no absolute proof that this is true. An unmarked "colored" grave in Woodlawn Cemetary in Leslie, Michigan, inspired some woman to find out who he was, and somehow she came to the conclusion that this was guy on the box.

Check this out.

Can you believe that shit?

Memories of Gilman Street

2007-05-05T23:21:00.000-07:00

Wow. I need to calm down. I just got home from an anniversary party at the tattoo shop down the street, where I learned, among many other interesting things, that:

Punk Rock is alive and slamming.

Oh my god, I felt like I was in 8th grade again, but instead of getting caught by my dad, I was worried about getting caught by my kids! I had a great time watching everyone get excited about some guy who showed up that I'd never heard of. Lars Frederiksen is apparently from some big punk band called Rancid. I don't know. My head is pounding and I need to relax.

Gonzo Gaming

2007-05-04T22:17:00.000-07:00

I just got home from spending the entire afternoon with an old friend up at an Indian casino, wasting money and having fun. Danyell is crazy and I totally love her, especially since she taught me how to really play.

ALWAYS bet max.

Typically I sit at the penny or nickel machines and walk out with the same 20 bucks I walked in with, if not a few dollars more. Sometimes I get a little risky and play more than 5 lines for a few spins, but usually I'm just happy playing the bonus games that pop up occasionally and getting free drinks. But this chick, she's a player. She doesn't just bet max, she bets max max, playing two machines at once. She nearly died when she saw my silly little 3-cent bets, and told me the only way to win anything is to bet it all. I don't really care about winning, but I gave it a try.
It was exciting!
When you win, you win big. And when you lose, well, you lose big. I only lost $60, but for me it was huge. I don't care, I had a really good time.

Lobster Love

2007-05-03T20:41:00.000-07:00

I was a bad girl at work today. After I kicked some Sudoku ass, I wasted more time doing a crossword puzzle. It's been a long time since I've done a crossword, but I kicked it's ass too. The only thing that stumped me was 66-down, "female lobster." Female lobster? Female lobster, hmmm. I couldn't get it, so I cheated and looked at the answers.

A female lobster is called a hen.

At least according to Wayne Robert Williams and his damn puzzle. I looked up "female lobster" when I got home, and I didn't find anything to confirm Mr. Williams claim. Maybe I'll send him an educational e-mail.
I did learn something real about female lobsters from my search though.

A female lobster attracts a male lobster by pissing out of a hole near her eye. When she finds the male she wants, she'll go inside his condo and slowly take off her shell. The male must resist all urges to eat her (oh my) and gently turn her over onto her back. Softly holding her limp and vulnerable body with his big, dangerous claws, he quickly inserts a pair, yes a pair, of his "swimmerets." Seconds later they are finished, but she hangs at his pad for about a week, eating her old shell and waiting for her new one to harden.

Wow. That's kinda sexy. I don't know if I'll ever be able to eat one again.

Soccer Mom Secrets

2007-05-02T20:56:00.000-07:00

I had lunch today with a friend from high school, and we had an embarrassingly good time being catty and gossiping like total bitches. I had a great time, and I learned something too.

Apparently there's a bunch of soccer mom's in town doing speed. Their code name is "Jenny Craig."

Since this drug is also commonly prescribed to people with ADHD, I'm wondering if they're stealing it from their kids or if they're buying it on the street like back in the '80's.

Coincidentally, I'm about to become a soccer mom again, as I just signed my little guy up today. If I start losing a lot of weight, you'll know why.
Just kidding.

Mayday Mayday Mayday!

2007-05-01T21:55:00.000-07:00

Down at the farmer's market this evening, there was quite the immigration rally, or whatever it was called, going on in the square. Hundreds of Hispanics were marching, waving Mexican flags and shouting things I didn't comprende. I vaguely knew what was going on since I read about it last year after their big march down the entire Vegas strip. It was hard to be sympathetic to their cause while being trapped in the Bellagio parking lot with 3 kids for over an hour.
Wanting to know more about what was going on today, I came home and did some internet reading, where I learned something about "immigration solidarity."

There are people, I'm not sure exactly what to call them, who think that "undocumented" immigrants are not illegal.

I did NOT learn what the giant wooden cross they had today was all about. As far as I could tell, it was completely unrelated.

Overstanding Jah

2007-04-30T21:38:00.000-07:00

There's something physically creepy that happens to your body when you hear your 16 year old son say, "Mom, I met a girl." Something like cold shivery nausea, starting in your throat, kicking and screaming it's way through your stomach, then quickly making it's way to your asshole. This happened to me about a week ago.
This afternoon, the same, once innocent and beautiful son of mine asked for some help putting on a Rasta friendship bracelet this girl gave him. While I was trying to tie it, he asked me if I knew what the colors represented. I said something like the green probably stands for pot, which he better not be fucking smoking. Not that I'm against marijuana, I just would prefer that his brain stop growing before he fucks with it, which I've explained to him many, many times.
Then I asked him who this chick was that gave it to him. Of course it was some name that I can't pronounce, spell or remember, and she's "really cool." Eeeek.
So then I considered saying that red stands for the blood from abortion, or the bloody pulp that will be the remains of his body if he even thinks about having un-safe sex, but I found a nicer way to put it. I'll spare the details. Anyway, when I finally shut up, he told me what the colors meant.

Red symbolizes the blood of the people, yellow stands for gold, and green stands for the land.

After our talk, I realized that I don't know much about Rastafarians, so I spent some time tonight reading about the religion. I learned a lot about it, but I'm really tired and I've got new, yummy sheets on my bed.
Here's a pretty informative site if you're interested in reading more about the concept of oneness. It's totally "irie."

Rastafarianism

Too Close for Comfort

2007-04-29T22:27:00.000-07:00

This morning I got a call from my friend Lala on her way to Vegas (without me bitch!) to tell me how bad traffic was (karma) because of a melted freeway near the airport. After I got all the details, I nearly had heart failure. A few blocks away from the gas tanker explosion is my good friend Bruce's house, where I'd just been celebrating his birthday (among other enjoyable experiences) until about 2:30am.

About an hour before this fucking disaster happened, my Colonel was on this road coming to pick me up after his show. We missed the explosion by an hour coming back home.

My friend lives just off the West Grand Ave. exit.
One little hour. It makes me sick.

Dongle-ing Around

2007-04-28T18:02:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm happy to say that words flowed like diarrhea from my ass last night, and again this morning. I had no idea what my column would be about when I went to bed last night, but as a sign that I'm doing exactly what I should be doing, a story happened before breakfast. Since I was out lounging in the morning sun when it happened, I grabbed my notepad and started scribbling.
An hour later I ran into a few wireless issues while transferring the story from laptop to desktop, but thankfully my Colonel is a computer dork and helped me out by, "You can use my dongle if you need to." Of course you know when he said that I thought he was trying to get more of my fantastic action, so he was confused when I said thanks and dropped my pants. Just kidding. But I did laugh and ask for an explanation.

A dongle (which I'm sure everybody in the world but me already knows) is a little device like this picture here that's used to prevent software piracy. Certain programs now can be installed on your computer but not used without the dongle plugged into a port.

Technically, he doesn't possess a real dongle, but some people refer to those little flash drive keychain things as such. He does have something very similar sounding though, and I know exactly what that is.

Deadline Demon

2007-04-27T22:01:00.000-07:00

When I woke up this morning, I was so happy it was Friday. The work week was nearly finished and I had nothing to do but socialize for the next few glorious days.

Then around 5:30 this evening, my editor calls. Not only do I have to submit another column by Monday morning, but I've got to re-write the last one I was so proud of. By 11am tomorrow morning no less. It's not that it was bad (so he says), but they want to use it as a cover story and it needs some "clean up and expansion." Since I'll be at one of my favorite annual gatherings tomorrow night and won't be home until at least 4am Sunday morning, that also means I better learn-and-blog good and early tomorrow as well. So what did I learn today?

I've got a shitload of words to crap out my ass in a pathetically small amount of time.

It'll be like Ron Jeremy fucking Yoko Ono. Too much in too little.
I need juice baby. Juice.

Thanks to Tom Richmond for this drawing that so perfectly portrays Mr. Editor Howell, who had the nerve to just call me (after hours of drinking) and ask me to come downtown to party. You know I need it baby, but I'm dedicated. Aren't you proud?

More *SALT Please

2007-04-26T12:47:00.000-07:00

Today, thanks to JMB, I learned what an ICBM is. Really though, I was happier not knowing what an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile was. What's even worse are the MIRV's, Multiple Independently-targetable Reentry Vehicles, which allows a single nuclear missile to hit multiple targets.

I don't even want to write any more about it.

*Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty

Suicide

2007-04-25T21:33:00.000-07:00

I know I missed yesterday, but I wasn't expecting to be out so late. I was lending my ears to a friend in need, and it got late faster than we anticipated. No regrets though. I'm glad I was there.

So today again I lost track of time and spent more hours than intended reading about this pet food recall thing. I learned a lot about melamine and gluten, counterfeit medicines and the FDA. I don't have the time to write it all, but I will share a few highlights.

-The FDA cannot order a recall. The manufacturer or distributor of problem products does it voluntarily. That's it. That is the law. Voluntarily.

-There are 5 known companies that received the contaminated crap the Chinese used in pet food (and possibly more) but the FDA will not name 2 of them until they come out voluntarily. Again with voluntarily.

-The contaminated substances, mainly wheat gluten, and the toxic contaminate melamine, are both white granular substances. They look suspiciously similar.

-One possible reason for putting the melamine into the pet food was so the protein testing would come up higher, making the food seem more nutritious and valuable.

In summation, today I learned how easy it would be to wipe out an entire country.

And how to tie a noose.

A Brief Candle

2007-04-23T20:59:00.000-07:00

Today is Shakespeare's birthday.

It is also his deathday.

May be or may be not,-- that is the question.

Ecological Footprints

2007-04-22T20:34:00.000-07:00

Happy Earth Day!

My inner hippie loves Earth day, but suprisingly all I did today was eat, watch Meet the Robinson's at the theatre with my 4 year old, and take an ecological footprint quiz. So today I learned few things.

-The Atta Pepper Frittata at the Schellville Grill is pretty tasty.

-Frogs have far more musical potential than humans (at least according to Franny Robinson)

-If everyone lived like me, we'd need 1.9 planets to survive.

-The average ecological footprint in the US is 24 acres, but mine is only 9. It should be 4.

What is an ecological footprint? Click here to read more.

I also learned a few interesting ways to celebrate Earth day, like making a skirt out of old umbrella's, turn used guitar strings into a centerpiece, and convert an old floppy disk into a Starship Enterprise.

Um, yeah. I don't think so.

Frühlingsfest

2007-04-21T22:04:00.000-07:00

We spent most of the day today visiting a friend at his mom's great condo in San Francisco. There's something about being in a highrise with a view of the city that really turns me on, and I could have stayed for days. But, we had the little guy with us, so we entertained him down at Fisherman's Wharf and Pier 39. It was cold and rainy, and even though we were totally stuffed from lunch at Tommy's Joynt (my SF favorite), we ducked into a place called Jack's for a little warm-up. There was something like 68 - 85 beers on tap there (it was hard to tell which sign was correct), which led to a discussion about Oktoberfest. The Colonel told us something so random and unbelievable about the meaning of the German festival, that I had to look it up as soon as I got home. I couldn't find any supporting evidence for his story, but I learned something else.

Frühlingsfest- "Spring festival"- started yesterday in Munich, Germany. Sometimes called Little Oktoberfest, Frühlingsfest is a two-week celebration welcoming the arrival of Spring.

I also learned a new word.

"Bierleichen"

During the regular Oktoberfest, this is the name given to those who drink beer until they pass out. It means "beer corpses."

Mo Money

2007-04-20T23:54:00.000-07:00

It's been a night of tequila and wine, but before all that, I learned something really cool.

"We're doubling your pay"

That's all I can say. I couldn't be happier. How often do you get an e-mail like that?

Vacation Time

2007-04-19T21:46:00.000-07:00

One of my teeth has been feeling weird for the last week, so I went to the dentist today to check it out. He asked me if I've been under a lot of stress lately, and I burst out laughing. I'm a lazy hedonist with 3 boys, a full time job, and a mortgage. I wouldn't say I'm under a lot of stress lately. Stress is what keeps me breathing. I eat stress for breakfast. I thrive on chaos. That's why I do asskickboxing whenever I have time.
So anyway, whatever. Here's what he told me.

Nothing is wrong with my teeth. I've just been clenching them so hard lately that they're starting to hurt. And a night guard that I won't use costs $200.

I'm surprised my tongue doesn't hurt too, as much I find myself biting it.
Arrrg.

What a Goat Knows

2007-04-18T21:35:00.000-07:00

There are only 8,700 seats left in Heaven.

According to Jehovah's Witnesses, 135,300 of the 144,000 available already have jackets, purses and program guides laying across them. I'm not going to do the math, but that's only a teeny tiny little percentage of us living here on earth right now. And after typing "salvation" into the search box on the Official Website of the Watchtower Society, (which gave a little shiver in my hedonistic, sin-full, agnostic soul), I learned that if you buy Girl Scout cookies, you're definitely not one of the 8,700.

I'd like to know what happens if 8,701 souls do everything right. Those who abide with no chess playing, no birthday parties, no jury duty. The ones who tenaciously knock on your door when you're taking a crap, attend more meetings per week than a recovering crack addict, and abstain from donating to charity (except to Watchtower causes). If for no other reason than to see the game of musical chairs played out in the board room of heaven, I'd like to buy a pass.

My thinking however, is that heavenly kingdom will look something like a movie theatre playing the next Costner flick.

Navigating the Stars

2007-04-17T20:54:00.000-07:00

Now that I've gotten a little sleep and the free vodka smell has pretty much evaporated from my skin, I think I'm ready to blog again. I thought however, that instead of sharing what I learned today, I'd share a few things I learned over the 5 days I missed during the film festival.
It's hard to know where to begin.

David Wain is damn funny, but it's hard to tell at first. He's so deadpan when you talk to him, that until you get to know him a bit, you sort of furrow your brows and wonder if you're just too normal to get him. I wish I could have spent more time with him.

Ernie Hudson, whom everyone called, "That Ghostbusters Guy" even though he's done so much more, is the nicest, most gracious, kind and gentle, loving man. I met him last year and he remembered me. Or at least he was polite enough to act like he did.

The only thing Joe Pantoliano, known around here as Joey Pants, has in common with Guido the Killer Pimp or Ralphie on the Sopranos is that he's Italian. Very Italian. I was lucky enough to attend a small and exclusive dinner party with him, where I learned that he is also very friendly, passionate, positive-thinking, and generous. And he likes the way I smell.

I learned a LOT about my favorite Saturday Night Live girl Cheri Oteri, but I'll keep most of it to myself as a lot of it is personal. We spent most of the festival together and I feel like we're old friends. I will say that she is prettier in person than in pictures, more serious in real life than on screen, and she's very tiny. Her first name is Cheryl and yes, her last name is really Oteri, but before Don Pardo started rhyming her name, she thought of herself as Cheri O-tiery. I love and adore her and I'm totally going to miss her.

Emily Van Camp is as cute and sweet as the roles she does. Maybe even more. She looks exactly the same in person as she does in her beautiful photos, and I recognized her right away. She was easy to work with, and very gracious. It was nice having her here.

When I first met DB Sweeney, all I knew is that he looked familiar. It wasn't until we walked into the theatre and some woman told him how much she loved him in Cutting Edge that I realized who this clown was. I couldn't believe she recognized him, and I was especially in awe when she handed her camera to Cheri to get a picture with her favorite star! I love this guy, even though he embarrased me in the center of my hometown. Word of advice if you ever find yourself walking through a park with him where teenage punk rockers are throwing gummy-bears at each other; run and hide behind the nearest tree. Or just join in and start screaming along in complete horror. He was a silly little boy, but I'll blame it on the wine.

To my complete disappointment, I didn't realize that the guy who was freaking me out this weekend was William Mapother, who played creepy guy Ethan on LOST. I kept avoiding the huge, scary-looking dude who kept staring at me. Seriously, I thought he was going to kidnap me. I realize now that I was just biased against him because I'd seen him drag Claire into the jungle on TV, but I wasn't consciencely aware of it when I saw him. It was weird though how I never saw him smile, and I don't remember him speaking. I wonder if he was just fucking with me. Was he getting some sick thrill out of intimidating little blonde chicks? Did he turn to his friends and laugh after I ran around the corner? Damn. I'll never know.

That crazy, fun, stylish, beautiful girl I met at a friends house was a super-model. I knew she was a model and her name was Irina, but I don't keep up with fashion or models, especially super-models, so I didn't realize who she was. I thought she was refreshingly different from the crowd, and found it interesting how she always managed to be in front of a camera. And apparently Ms. Pantaeva is into filmmaking too.

These next 2 peeps I didn't actually meet, but I talked to them on the phone and learned that they are both huge, whiney pains-in-the-asses.
Is that slander? No, it's fact. But I'll spare the details to save on lawyer fees just in case.

Ken Marino

Samantha Mathis

And last, but certainly not least, I met THE Daedalus Howell. Writer, actor, director, musician, editor, and all around funny guy, this was my favorite star siting of all.

Wait a sec.
I already know him.
Isn't he fab?

Exhaustion Fumes

2007-04-16T14:02:00.000-07:00

punch-drunk / Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[puhnch-druhngk] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–adjective
1.
(esp. of a boxer) having cerebral concussion caused by repeated blows to the head and consequently exhibiting unsteadiness of gait, hand tremors, slow muscular movement, hesitant speech, and dulled mentality.
2.
Informal. befuddled; dazed.

Yes. All of the above.

The film festival lube has yet to leach out of my blood, but I have many many stories and lessons when I can get my head back on straight (er).

Fermented Madness

2007-04-14T13:44:00.000-07:00

Film Festival weekend.

Total mayhem.

The Grandest Event in the History of the Colored Race

2007-04-11T15:11:00.000-07:00

Today is the official first day of our fantastic local film festival where I o-so happily volunteer, and since there's a party before and after my somewhat prestigious VIP Team meeting tonight, I decided I'd better get this learning shit out of the way early.

I wish I had something funny and interesting to say, but all I can think about is that I don't have any cute shoes to wear tonight, and that I don't have any money. I did learn something today though.

Before Abe Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation, he signed the Emancipation Act, which freed about 3,000 slaves in Washington DC nine months early. Every year on April 16th, an official public holiday gives Washingtonians a day off, soooo...
taxes aren't due until April 17th this year.

After spending way more than my lunch hour today reading all about slavery and emancipation, I'm consumed with the concept of freedom and being free. While I realize that slavery and freedom are serious issues and shouldn't be made fun of, I'm already an admitted idiot so I've made a list of things that I need my own Emancipation Act for.

1- Ignorance. My own and all that surrounds me.
2- Negative thoughts. Especially my own.
3- Love of food.
4- Either my dependency on money or the desire to have way too much of it.
5- Insecurity.

No Thing

2007-04-10T22:30:00.000-07:00

I didn't learn anything today.

But
I saw

2 woodpeckers fighting

A homeless looking woman with beautiful eyes

A guitar called a Warlock

and

3 girls walking down the highway in pajamas

So it wasn't a totally wasted day.

I Undastan Dat

2007-04-09T22:01:00.000-07:00

I don't really know how many times, out of pure curiousity, I've picked up a bible and started reading it, then put it down five minutes later all pissed off. It seems to me that something as supposedly important as "THE word" should be a little easier to understand. But after our Maui visitor read this to us from the Hawaiian Pidgin bible last night, which is not intended as a joke by the way, I finally understand the Lords Prayer.

God, you our Fadda.
You stay inside da sky.
We like all da peopo know fo shua how you stay,
An dat you good an spesho inside,
An we like dem give you plenny respeck.
We like you come king ova hea now.
We like everybody make jalike you like,
Ova hea inside da world,
Jalike da angel guys up inside da sky make jalike you like.
Give us da food we need fo every day.
Let us go, an hemo our shame
Fo all da kine bad stuff we do to you,
Jalike us guys let da odda guys go awready,
An we no stay huhu wit dem
Fo all da kine bad stuff dey do to us.
No let us get chance fo do bad kine stuff,
But take us outa dea, so da Bad Guy no can hurt us.
Cuz you our king,
You get da real power,
An you stay awesome foeva.
Dass it!

And I love this -

"Everytime, dis how I pray: "God, you da God fo our Boss Jesus Christ. You our Fadda, an you stay awesome! I like you help da Efesus peopo fo know inside dea hearts wat fo do. An show dem plenny bout Christ, so dey goin know him mo betta.'" (Fo da Efesus Peopo 1:17)

Now, I could read a bible like this. Somehow it all makes sense, even though I still don't believe there's a big man in da sky.

Ok, one more and then I'll send you out on your own.

Den had one big storm ova dea, an da waves was bussing ova da boat, so da boat almos wen huli. But Jesus still yet stay sleeping in da back on one pillow. His guys wen go wake him up, an tell him, “Eh, Teacha! You no care we goin mahke, o wat?”

Jesus get up, an scold da wind an da waves. He say, “Quiet! No move aroun!” Den da wind wen pau an da waves wen come nice. An he tell his guys, “How come you guys scared? You guys no trus me, o wat?” (Mark Tell Bout Jesus 4:37-40)

Wat Da Bible Say Bout Important Stuffs <---- click here ja idiot

A Message From Jesus

2007-04-08T12:40:00.000-07:00

Jesus doesn't like eggs.

|

There's also no humping in heaven.

Thank you Mark Garrison. Until today, I thought JC was totally down with the whole pagan sex celebration thing.

Domestic D

2007-04-07T20:53:00.000-07:00

This morning I was awakened by the smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen. I couldn't believe my nose. I've been ripped out of beautiful sleep several times by silent sledgehammers, but rarely by something that doesn't justify violence. Then I remembered we had my favorite kind house guest; a couch crasher that knows how to cook. I love going out to brunch on the weekends but I love my pajamas more, and it was wonderful to just climb out of bed and have a really good breakfast right here at home.
And it gets even better.
Tomorrow is Easter and the only cooking I have to do is my special green bean creation. Dearest Daryl, another fabulous DH, is making us his amazing Hawaiian specialty, Kalua Pig. It's a little hard to keep the neighbors away when cooking a whole pig in a huge pit in the backyard, so he's going for the haole method; pork-roast in a slow cooker.
Since he's doing the cooking, I did the buying, and today I had to brave the unknown frontier of the grocery store all by myself. It was quite the learning experience.

Pork butt is actually a pork shoulder, without the bone.

Red wine vinegar is in the salad dressing aisle.

Water chestnuts are not canned vegetables. They are "ethnic" food.

My son's former friend who checked me out, (in the grocery store scanner cash register sense) has a something something something super engine something.

The school nurse in town has retired, but she's thinking about going back to work.

Good Excuse Friday

2007-04-06T13:48:00.000-07:00

Why today is called "Good" Friday? I don't know. All I can find is that maybe it's been lengthened from "God" Friday, but I find that just too stupid to accept. I found some gibberish about how maybe the word "good" is used to show that Jesus dying was a good thing because it liberated so many people from sin.
I personally find all Friday's to be good. (and full of sin)

Here are some names other countries use instead of "Good."

In Israel, today is Big Friday.
In Germany, it's Sad Friday or Mourning Friday.
It's Great Friday in the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Poland, Hungary, Serbia, Greece, and Bulgaria.
Latin America, Spain, France, Italy and Portugal say it's Holy Friday.
In Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Finland and Iceland, today is Long Friday.

I'm calling this particular Friday before Easter "Good Excuse Friday." Let's have this be a day of finding, using, and believing all the excuses we can for our bad habits. Let's use this day as a way of finding better excuses for a future full of sin. Exuses to get out of doing things we don't want to do. A good excuse to take a day off work. A good excuse to party.

My main excuse for everything about to happen tonight is...

My Colonel is playing another show.

AM Killed the Radio Star

2007-04-05T21:19:00.000-07:00

I'm exhausted today, but I ran across this little snippet today.

FM radio was invented by Edwin Howard Armstrong, who like Kurt Cobain 13 years ago today, took his own life. Mr. Armstrong jumped out of his 13 story apartment window in 1954, because he thought his invention was a failure.

RCA, his employer at the time, worried that FM would destroy AM radio, and got in bed with the FCC to keep it from being used.
Jealous fuckers.

I wish I could get more into this, but I can't keep my eyes open. Take a look at this cute newspaper photo.

And happy 3-year aniversary for your FM radio show Mr. JMB!

Up, Down, Left, Right

2007-04-04T21:26:00.000-07:00

I've been in the car for 5 hours today, which is about 4 hours longer than I can stand. I learned something though.

There are 14 turns between my sister's house and mine, if you include turning into my driveway. 10 rights and 4 lefts.

Isn't that exciting?

Ok ok ok. There is something else. When I got home I read a silly email from my mom, and at the bottom it said that 17 million people are having sex right now. But according to my calculations based on sex stats done by a condom company, I think the number is much lower.

Approximately 1 million people are having sex right this minute, and about 45 thousand of them are orgasming right NOW.

Here's how I figure it- The world averages say that people have sex about 106 times a year. That's roughly every 3 days. At the time of my study, which was about 10 minutes ago, the world population was around 6.7 billion. So if people are having sex about every third day, then I figure it's about a third of these peoples turn today. Since sex can strike at any hour, I divided these 2 billion people by 24 hours, leaving 93 million. Divide that by 60 minutes, you get about 1.5 million. Now let's say about a third of these people are too young or too old or whatever, so we'll remove half a mill, which leaves us 1 million people having sex right now. And since the world average length of time for humping is about 22 minutes, I'd say that about 45,000 of them are finishing up right about now. Less of course those who don't/can't/won't cum, and plus those who are alone.

According to the Blissymbolics Dictionary,
this is the blissymbol for Orgasm.

Gotta go.

Living on Dyer Island

2007-04-03T23:02:00.000-07:00

I had another fun day painting, playing cards, and making mud pies with the nieces, nephew and my 4 year old today. I actually missed them when they went to bed, which is totally weird since bedtime is usually the best part of the day for me. So later when my sister started watching some lame-ass tattoo show on TV, I started reading the first thing I could find; a National Geographic for kids. For the most part, the magazine was surprisingly lame, but I did learn something kinda interesting from it.

There are penguins in South Africa (penguins in South Africa?) who used to make their homes out of hardened guano (bird shit) before people started taking it and selling it for fertilizer. When they started dying off due to lack of shelter, conservationists started bringing in fiberglass igloos for them to live in, just like the kind dogs use for napping. And it worked. Within a week of bringing them in, the birds, formerly known as Jackass penguins, were calling them home.

These little guys are now called African penguins, and the people selling their shit are called Jackass humans.

Smarter Than a Zozzfozzel

2007-04-02T22:22:00.000-07:00

The only thing good about Fallon, Nevada is my nieces and nephew. If it weren't for them, I'd be at home right now instead of picking desert sand out of my eyes in the middle of nowhere. But I'm having so much fun with them that I can't complain. There's something about being far from home, wandering the vastness of Super Walmart in the middle of a small, dusty town that causes me to lose my reasoning completely and want to join the trashy crowd. I totally let loose today and allowed the kids to run screaming down the aisles. I don't know if it's because the store was so big or the people were used to this kind of behavior, but not one single person gave me that evil look I usually give when I see this kind of terrorism.
We bought dyed flowers sprinkled with glitter for only 5 bucks, and I let them get candy from the row at check out line. It was embarrassing that they didn't scream for it first. Utterly horrifying how politely they picked which colors they wanted. Totally unacceptable that their eyes lit up right before they said thank you. What kind of behavior is that for Walmart? Super Walmart no less. Sheesh.
After we got home and the sugar-high wore off, my very first niece, whom through clenched teeth my sister refers to as "Donna Junior," read me a book by our mutually favorite author, Dr. Seuss. "The Cat's Quizzer- Are YOU smarter than the cat in the hat?" There were 100 or so silly questions which she read to me, and I got a few of the answers right. We had a great time, and I actually learned something.

It's possible that worms might actually dream.

I answered an emphatic NO to the question of "Do worms dream?" The answer on page 61 was, "I know two psychiatrists- Dr. Willis and Dr. Mazzanti. They tell me that maybe worms do dream." Who's going to argue with Dr. Seuss?

Then it was bedtime, and when I was tucking her in and checking for bedbugs, my little prince brought me my long lost tiara. And it fit like Cinderella's slipper.

Drowning in Buffonery

2007-04-01T16:28:00.000-07:00

It's probably going to be a late night, so in honor of April Fools day, I leave you with....

The First Church of the Last Laugh

I missed their Saint Stupid's Day Parade today, but I'm heading out to something nearly as dumb; a birthday party you have to pay to get in to. Not even a single free light beer or crappy hotdog. Technically, it's a suggested 10 dollar "donation" with "fabulous bar prices." E-gads.
The only reason I'm going is to see my Colonel play in the band, so I'm not paying since I "donated" the guitar player.
And I'm bringing my flask.

Order of the Rabbit

2007-03-31T21:39:00.000-07:00

I heard today that the original title of Hitler's Mein Kampf was, "4 & 1/2 Year Struggle Against Lies, Stupidity and Cowardice." I still don't know for sure if this is true, but I wouldn't doubt it. I'm not a Hitler fan or foe to be quite honest, and I'm curious to read the book. I mean, the guy was fucked up but it is interesting and somewhat admirable how much influence he had.
Anyway, if you're still reading after that statement, I learned something today from George Duncan's Lesser-Known Facts of World War II.

Every year on Hitler's mommy's birthday, he would give an award called "The Mothers Cross" to all German women with a lot of kids.

Four fruits of the womb was enough to receive a Cross of Iron.
Six sucklings got her a Silver Cross.
Eight episiotomies earned her a Gold Cross.
7 & 1/2 years of being pregnant was worthy of a Cross of Gold and Diamonds. Plus, Hitler himself would act as honorary godfather.

And a partridge in a pear tree.

Capezio Shamezio

2007-03-30T23:19:00.000-07:00

There are few things cuter than a four year old in tap shoes.

Especially with his bug pajamas tucked into my sparkly Michael Jackson socks.

Yep, I'm a lucky mom. My son wants to be a tap dancer.
He starts class next Tuesday.

XXX

2007-03-29T21:45:00.000-07:00

Mother of Alpha Beta!
I've been writing all damn day and I don't feel like writing another perfect word. I'm going outside to enjoy some beautiful night air.

Here's what I learned today:

That's right. Nothing.