they were the best of times, the worst of times..

i feel like i should write something, it being the last day of 2006. but i really, as usual, don't have anything to say. i could do some bests and worsts or something... mkay..

best dressed:












worst dressed: WHAT'S YOUR POISON? on the pop up. really..? i bet he didn't even know his own answer to that question.










best signature move:










worst surprise: walking to cans and getting a paintball shot to the ass! hoodlum teen-f*ers!










longest fun days: tie between -
Oktoberfest



















and LSU game



















best wedding: incidents with stairwells, uncles, & voyeurism come to mind.. and it was still a flawless wedding.










worst travesty: getting cut in line at the state fair












best counteraction:
tap, tap.

best drive:












worst drive:
last of LSU game - LSU makes a 1st down on 4th & 7 to subsequently score in the end zone directly beneath me to win the game. vomit.

best compliment received:
hey. wow, you're, like, the prettiest chick i've seen in, like, a year.

worst pick up line:
so, what are you?

best worst beer pyramid:










worst once-done idea: tequila-filled water guns?










worst twice-done, shame-on-me idea: playing in cemeteries










best head gear - pink hoodie?













worst head gear - napkin? (but v.good bday)










and.. best dance pictures.. there are more, but this is a good sample:























































ha, it was a good year.. here's to another.

dialing for dollars

As the year winds down and the holiday season is upon us, I find the need to reflect upon something that has to do with neither… the drunk dial.

I mean, this is no small matter – even Wikipedia has an entry for it. go ahead, look it up. you know you want to.

the question lies with intention. It’s a full out epidemic – peaceful reveries everywhere are being interrupted at ungodly hours – but why? My friends and I have long debated whether a drunk dial from a boy means, (1) that the boy has no balls and can only get the balls to call you (his one true love, of course) when he’s drunk, or (2) that the boy’s balls are constantly tangoing with his dick, and the boy doesn’t really want to call you at all but for the fact that it can mean a direct connection with your vagina.

I’m inclined to think that, for the most part, the intention can be either of the two or some mix or neither. So it’s one of those ‘it depends’ answers, which is an all-around shitty answer anyway, because it’s not the kind of answer Americans like – hard and fast, yea or nay – but it’s the answer we always get… are we winning the war in Iraq? well, it depends (on the day, on whom you ask, on the time of day)… can I come over and make sweet, sweet love to you? well, it depends… wait, who is this again?

I’ve received many a good drunk dials, which reminds me of a rule that should be enacted – if you’re going to drunk dial someone, and they do not answer, for god’s sake leave a message. It makes for such good sat/sun morning entertainment. If you took the effort to dial while drunk, at least slur a few words into the phone, heck, tell me what your drunk dial’s intention is… or that you’re jacking off thinking about me (by the way, should that be taken as some sort of weird compliment or as just gross??) or something. Be a sport.

Drunk texts are also fun. One boy's drunk text even asked – is drunk texting as bad as drunk dialing? to which I think the answer is no… it’s worse. Dialing – the effort involves finding the contact and pressing the big green Send button. Texting – involves choosing Messages, finding the contact, typing what you want to say – some cleverly disguised variation of “I want to be on you” – making sure the phone is typing what you want to say (doubtful – “Dixies” comes out as fixidr on my phone… so if I’m ever at fixidr, you know where to find me), and finally pressing the big green Send button.

Much more effort for texts – much more intention, whether good or bad … I guess, well, it depends.

to be sure, I’ve definitely done my fair share of drunk dialing, and what was my intention? They’re many times to boys who don’t even live in Charlotte, so I really have no clue. maybe I just want some late night confirmation that someone out there wants to be on me. and no inhibitions get in my way of confirming my altogether goddess-like sex appeal.

then again maybe it’s just drunk dialing. Nothing more. Just another thing that happens when all good decision making gets washed away with ___. ah, is it cocktail hour yet? maybe I’ll call you later. I’ve been known to try to get my dog to sing to you when drunk at the homestead.

a fever you can't sweat out

So… I’m sick and “working from home” this morning, but with a high fever, it’s hard to get motivated/started. So my computer prompted me to download internet explorer 7 when I turned it on just now, and it was taking forever, so I was clicking on random things that didn’t involve the internet and got to a folder called “emails.” Well, looks like I was a lot better at archiving things back in college than I am now, because there were various documents: “Dad’s emails”, “personal emails”, etc. along with a few saved IM conversations (no making fun.. you know as well as I do that relationships have started, lived, and ended by those things. I wouldn’t be surprised if religions have been founded, wars been waged through THE instant messenger). Anyway, then there’s one titled “[insert ex’s name here]’s emails”. So I’m thinking, wow, I saved those? and open it up.

And… well, damn. All I can say is that I have no right to complain about any unfavorable treatment I get from guys nowadays. I had a guy who really cared about me, and, though it didn’t work out, I do know that all men are not, in fact, assholes. And while I know our going separate ways was for the best, I just regret that I may have hurt him, and, in mine and my ex’s case, I know I was the asshole, not him. I never cheated on him or even thought to do so, but in some way I think I cheated him out of something…. what? I really couldn’t express it in words, but something. And, the thing is, I might be getting cheated out of something now, too, but I deserve it, and he didn’t. I hope he knows that i did and still do care about him, that I’m sorry, and that he deserves better. he’s a good guy… a better person than I will ever be. no shit.

so, I have no right to complain and will not anymore. life’s been pretty good to me, and karma’s a bitch, yo.

ugh, i've been up for half an hour now and i think i need a nap. night night.

why i wish i had been born with a penis instead

‘tis the season to be jolly, right? right-i-o, then.

now, I may expose more about myself than I should, but I’m feeling really impelled to spread some holiday cheer, so I’m about to make you feel a lot better about your current situation, whatever it may be, and here’s warm wishes that it’s cheery and bright.

2 weekends ago, a guy who I thought was a halfway decent person (why am I such a stupid, stupid girl), turned out to be not, as my friend overheard him saying some not very nice things about me, all the while trying to get me to go home with him - after sending his girlfriend home crying. it made me feel like complete and utter shit. he also complained all night about how he’s too young, at 25, to be dating someone seriously. I hope he dies alone. no, no, not really. I do not wish that upon anyone. what I mean is…. I hope he marries a supermodel, who gains 167 lbs. after birthing their first child, who ends up being a gay version of ricky martin. yes. that will do.

This past Friday night, i cabbed it home by myself and got molested by my cab driver (not completely violated, but he reached around the seat the whole time and kept grabbing my hand and touching me and telling me how pretty he thought I was and asked me to get in the front seat and to lean forward so he could rub my back, and I am, thus, traumatized for life). Luckily he did bring me home (after asking for my phone #... NO, you CREEPY, OLD GROSS ogre gross), but I still felt sorry for myself, and fell asleep with my head underneath my Christmas tree (happy place).

Saturday I spent all night ignoring a guy who followed me up to my apartment on Halloween night (yes, a red sweatshirt & sweatpants & a blue pom-pom wig did constitute the majority of my costume) and fell asleep on top of me (also should mention that he was dressed as a vampire and therefore had FANGS); he called me 3 days later; I never called back; his friend informed him of how creepy his unrequited behavior was; I purposely avoided him all night Saturday, along with his hideous friends, one of whom we aptly nicknamed Jaws.

The kicker – tonight, the horrible fang boy called me asking me out on a date.

OH
MY
GOD.

I will never understand it. Dating does not go, 1) be completely ignored by girl, 2) ask girl out on date. Classic. my life. is. classic.

meanwhile, my phone remains void of normal boys’ numbers, the Colts lose, the Giants lose, florida wins, and I can’t get anything constructive done b/c i spend my small amount of free time writing about my misery to try to make myself feel better.

Merry Christmas and a Happy Hannukah/New Year/ Hope For Some Semblance of Validation for Living!

(also, thank god for my girls, who have been there to console me. I might be dead without you. seriously.)

*

BCS standings comments…

when did Hawaii get in the top 25??

when did vatech sneak all the way up to 14? and 2 above wake forest??

Tennessee is finally above cal again – there IS justice in the world

our 3 losses: #4, #5, #9 – too bad there are no asterisks in this life, only scoreboards…

(you heard that on Entourage)

I do not know how much I like the idea of us tentatively going to Outback bowl – as much as I like Outback and all, I do not like the prospect of being so frenzied at 11am on the first day of the new year. of course, new year’s days have never been my specialty..

florida st. is going to the Emerald bowl……… hahaha (yes I know we did not go to a bowl game last year, but still)

since we are apparently too stupid to go to playoffs yet, I vote for no rematch in champ game, even if usc loses to ucla. that would just be stupid. but.. florida or lsu in champ would be stupid too. we need a damn playoff!

soulsuck

just a quickie.

the Zales commercial is RUINING lives. something should be done.

Every time i hear that soulsuckingly awful vanessa whatsherface piano music, i think about how no one is going to buy me diamonds for Christmas.

And when guys hear the soulsuckingly awful vanessa music, they think about how much they do NOT want to buy diamonds for girls for Christmas but will probably be pressured to anyway.

And when girls hear the vanessa music, they think about how, even though they want diamonds, they do not want the crappy ones they show on the Zales commercials, but the strategically placed mall-display Yurman ones they saw, which they will pressure boy to buy for them, and boy will either: (a) hear the incessant soulsuck music playing in his head like broken record and accidentally buy a Zales diamond and be forbade sex for month of January, or (b) buy it and cause much bleeding of wallets and .. uh.. gnashing of teeth .. and stuff.

it's just soulsuckingly AWFUL (much due credit to rolling stone magazine for that phrase, which was used to describe clay aiken's new album).

to be sure, my unnamed friend who may be hoping for Yurman for certain occassion is NOT soulsuckingly awful and should get a Yurman since I am, to be sure, NOT.

vacant

so, i'm vacating. i guess the correct verb would be vacationing, but vacating seems more appropriate. Apartment, Charlotte, work, mind - all have vacancies if anyone's interested. the past 2 days have gone something like:

930 - wake up
10 - get out of bed
1005 - eat breakfast, read paper - front to back, including editorials, target and best buy ads, and completion of crossword, cryptic thing, and word jumble (my dad has reign over sudoku - if even 1 number is filled out, he gets pissed) . keep in mind this is JCity newspaper, so does not really take that long if i do not try to find all the grammatical errors.
1130 - work out
1230 - eat lunch (mom has made)
100 - shower (extortion of hot water)

besides that, i watch tv (have DVRed all of this week's south parks and family guys. i really need to get a DVR), read, check email, eat, and buy food with my mom's money.

i mean, i love to travel as much as anyone else, but THIS is what i call a vacation.

some random thoughts:

- i'm reading a book where, yet again, a Charlottean is portrayed as the dumb Southerner. i mean, really, these ppl must have never been to East Tennessee. our waitress at Ruby Tuesdays today asked my dad if he wanted a Millers Lite, and when my mom asked her for a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, her face wrinkled up like we had just asked her why she believes in Jesus.

- if you ever watch football whilst running on a treadmill, remember to stay focused, because when the refs blow whistles to stop a play, it makes you want to stop, too.

talk about it

It's currently costing about $2,000,000,000 per week for the war in Iraq.
$104,000,000,000 per year.

In August the Senate failed to pass a bill to increase the minimum wage from the measly $5.15 to $7.25 per hour over the course of 3 years (albeit was coupled w/estate tax cut, so, a stupid political bill anyway).

$104 billion per year = 6,896,551 people paid an annual salary of $15,080 ($7.25 per hour).

$104 billion per year = 8,547,008 people paid an annual salary of $12,168 ($5.85 per hour - what the min wage increase would have been in the 1st year of enactment).

If you want to be more elite, $104B could be

• 7 million more scholarships to universities
• $5.2 million more funding to each of 20,000 public high schools
• money spent finding a cure for cancer.
  

About 1/4th of your income goes to pay taxes.

i'm just sayin...

and i won't go into calculations for the $300,000,000,000 that has already been spent.

i also like writing out all the zeroes, because they stare at me mockingly as i hear my ringtone in the background - yeah, it's all about the benjamins, baby.

red, independent, and blue

so, I know no one wants to hear my opinion on the election, so I’m not going to say anything. I’m just going to type it. you don’t have to listen.

you may have a lingering hunch that I’m a democrat through and thru considering the way I bash dubya through and thru. very very untrue. I am a staunch non-affiliate. proud of it, too, in the way that college GDIs are proud of not being Greek.

my beliefs, like (I believe) so many others really are, are not encompassed in one party or another. I’m very fiscally conservative (CPA, hey!), though I support an increase in minimum wage and do not (unlike my father) think all Dems are commies. I think women should ultimately be able to decide what they want to do with their bodies, but I also do not have a huge problem with people having guns (bullets kill, not guns.. – chris rock?).

The major problem I have with political parties is that definitive line of opinions. If you vote for a certain party, you vote for a whole ishload of things you may not 1- agree with, 2- care about, or 3- even know about. and so, democracy is flawed in the same way American Idol is flawed – stupid people vote for someone because he’s got nice hair, knows how to work the stage, and sleeps with one of the judges.

The other major problem I have with political parties – people, whether it’s because they had household influences or found religion or because they’re black or Mexican or gay or trust fund endowed or East Tennesseean, align themselves with one party or the other and constantly vote “straight down the party line” no matter what incompetent nincompoop is running on the ticket.

The thing I like about the parties – let’s take an analogy. Everyone loves an analogy. Jesus really loved analogies. There is a company. It is called, hypothetically, Coca Cola (red). It has a competitor. It is called, hypothetically, PepsiCo (blue). Coca Cola decides to start using toxic waste in its soda. PepsiCo calls them out on it and captures some of their market share. But then PepsiCo’s CEO gets caught with his dick in an intern’s mouth. Coca Cola publicizes the shit out of it, to the point that he finally gets fired, and they take some market share back.

See? In a word, accountability. Parties provide competition and, thus, accountability. Ahh, the capitalism of democracy. yesssss.

So, the election. In a word, glad. In a sentence, glad that the ads will stop and that laura bush and daryl waltrip will stop calling my mother’s house, glad the House is blue, don’t know how I feel about control over the Senate too. Political changes like this have a direct affect on my job – those damn taxes. While I don’t think anything major will happen in the next couple years, if a Dem wins the presidential race in 2008, then I can’t imagine what that will mean for tax reform. Just writing the word “tax” makes this too dry, though, so I stop.

we’ve still got our very own handpicked idiot in DC (or ranch) heading it all up; at least Condi finally, after many discreet notes were unheeded and accidentally used as TP, sat down with him for a while last night and told him to get rid of that scarlet letter Rumsfield:

"Seriously, George, you can't just keep wiping your ass with everything I say just because I'm a woman."
"But people laugh!"
"I know, George. I know."

life is easy

life is easy. because:

Monday
- was a bad day because I forgot to hold my breath for the whole walk through the stairwell in the parking garage (homeless urination hot spot. i know, v. gross. luckily, not proven)

Tuesday
- was a good day because I got one of my favorite parking spots in the garage – next to the lined-off no parking spots, where i am at ease knowing no one will open their car door into mine. into the left side anyway.

Wednesday
- was a bad day because it took 3 minutes longer to get out of the parking garage because everyone else with a life was trying to get in to park for the Bobcats’ opener

Thursday
- was a good day because I remembered to hold my breath through the stairwell. And I got free lunch. and football and new Office and new Grey are on tonight. ohh, very good day.

life is hard

life is hard. because:

friday
- had to figure out what to wear for weather forecast of "100% heavy rain." (answer: jeans tucked into black effme boots, tank top, hoodie, and UT baseball cap)
- had to run across Tryon St. twice (in black effme boots) to catch cab home. would have been 3+ times if not for ashley's cab-catching and people-warding-off skills

saturday
- had to lie in bed for over an hour trying to figure out how to procure food without having to move. finally threw on sweat pants and windshield-sized sunglasses (thank god for windshield-sized sunglasses) and attempted to drive to chick-fil-a and back during Gameday commercial. (failed)
- had to avoid lots of direct flesh contact with all the girls dressed up for Halloween as Whore. Princess Whore, Policeman Whore, Nurse Whore, Cheerleader Whore, even Firefighter Whore. The creativity of twentysomething girls these days is AMAZing

sunday
- had to remove (despite usually loving being surrounded by orange) the myriad orange jello and punch stains spattered haphazardly around my apartment, including bathroom mirror and wall (vaguely remember the latter being my fault). ironically, i used Glistening Citrus Orange Windex
- had to figure out how long i passed out for this afternoon on the couch and if it was a dream or not that i was at the pool with my mom and she was telling me i should go kiss a boy sitting across the 3 feet deep section
- had to wonder how hot you have to be to date a professional football player and then break up with him when he essentially gets promoted to Dallas Cowboys Quarterback. i mean, in America, the ranking goes 1. President, 2. Bono, 3. rap moguls, 4. Oprah, 5. NFL quarterbacks. Well, I guess it makes sense. i mean, that's the reason i don't date NFL quarterbacks - i like to keep my options open. you know, for someone better to come along.

and tomorrow i get to start my work week again to earn my keep so i can continue to look forward to these hard weekends.

go big ORANGE

life might be pretty pointless and inane, yes...

but that isn't going to stop me from making orange jello shots for saturday! wooooooot

Happy early Halloween! go carve a pumpkin and celebrate... I heard it was Satan's super sweet 16 at the W.

compiling a grocery list - orange jello, orange solo cups, grey goose l'orange, maybe some felt for my costume..?, chips (orange?) - gah, this is the perfect color for the team that is finally going to beat spurrier again. Or else l'orange jello shots might end up being v. bad idea.

never gonna get it

why.. WHY are we so stupid? and I don’t mean in the eating ice cream in lieu of dinner way (current event), but in the going to war way, the killing of others way, the intentional destruction of life sort of way.

I just watched a segment on the History Channel about the flag raisers of Iwo Jima. And it gave me a renewed sense of why we watch such garbage on tv: because it’s 1, easy and 2, entertaining in that feel-good way. Easy on the brain, easy on the eyes, easy on the emotions, if you will. Kind of like the surfeit of ice cream I’m eating right now, except on the tongue, not the eyes.

I almost changed the channel to “America’s Next Top Model” because it was just so damn sad to see footage of those men – no, those boys – being killed so brutally. I don’t know why it hit me hard tonight as opposed to other times I’ve seen similar footage. And it’s a different effect than a movie, because even then, you know it’s not real, even if based on real events.

But then I thought to myself, my god, look at what these marines had to go through, to live through, to fight through, and all I have to do is watch it. My god, my god, if my lazy ass can do anything, I can sit through an hour of this narrated history that so many had to actually live out (noted also that I did sit through about … 15 hours of football between yesterday and today).

But it made me sad. And mad that we let war happen, over and over again, throughout history. We never learn. Robbing lives from boys who haven’t had the chance yet to go to college or to get married or maybe even to get laid for the first time. And that’s kind of funny but really just very sad because that’s what life should be – experiencing good things – when, for them, life ended with and among and because of really bad things. Not to mention the mothers. The fathers too, but for some reason it’s the mothers who really hit you, who you know had such hopes and aspirations for sons who otherwise had the whole world in front of them. And died instead.

I’m glad I watched it. I’m reminded that, though clichéd, freedom is not, in fact, free (and there are too many graves to prove it). And that’s never really been so apparent to me as it is now, as I realize that North Korea or Iran, among others, could nuke us any day now, and we could break out in a world war again and be stripped of freedom, which is, of course, a freedom to live without an overarching daily fear of death.

But, to be sure, life has had an overarching feeling of frustration for me lately. It just all seems so vain, so purposeless; I swear sometimes, most times, even when good, I just don’t get it.

fictional dialogue, fictional people - avoiding reality is SO vogue. ok, a perpetual vogue.

voted by me as best quotes from last- and to-night:

South Park -
ike: you'redeadtome
kyle: what??
ike: i SAID, you're DEAD to me
kyle: What??
ike: You're DEAD to me, KYLE!

not a quote, but the playing of Afternoon Delight while panning in to Ike and teacher in bathtub was hilARious

The Office -
Dwight: Ryan, come back!
[Ryan leaves]
Dwight's cousin: He seemed like a nice guy.
Dwight: Where are all the animals?!

Grey -
Izzy: I'm a multimillionaire, George. I'm not going to buy him a CD.


also, i do admit that i love Ike, as well as jim halpert on The Office. Little did I know so many other (crazy, no-life, delusional) people love jim as well. Facebook retrieves 57 groups when you look up "jim halpert." voted by me as top 5:

5. Jim Halpert is the Reason I Wake Up in the Morning
(Type: Common Interest - Beauty (??); the creator's picture is half the fun; 55 members)

4. When I Grow Up I Wanna Marry Jim Halpert
(grow up??; I especially love the detailed attn to capitalization in this title alongside the use of "wanna"; 40 members)

3. JIM HALPERT FOR PRESIDENT IN 08
(Yes, because jim halpert IS a real person; now I have my own presidential race - Jay-Z head-to-head with Jim Halpert; 21 members)

2. I'd totally go to the Halpert-Beesly Wedding!! Scrantonicity will be there!
(omg, what?!?; 14 members)

1. I Have a Man Crush on Jim Halpert
(Type: Just for fun - too much information; luckily, only 17 members)


my god, what IS this world coming to that these groups exist and that i BLOG about them??

point to it

Ck out what I read in my Creative Loafing tonight, an article by David Swerdlick titled, "President Carter":

"... But what if Jay-Z ran for president? I mean, the bar is set pretty low at this point.

"Granted, he probably doesn't have the subject matter expertise to head up a cabinet-level department. But the specific job of president is fast becoming a figurehead position -- and uber-spokesmodel for this or that point of view ... If he wanted to, he could easily win a Congressional seat in NYC, bide his time until Republicans run some gimmick candidate, then Democrats counter with 'H to the Izzo ...'

"... I can see him now: fresh-pressed, white guayabera shirt, summer weight slacks, Gucci sandals and a lit Cohiba robusto, walking down Main Street in Baghdad with Beyonce, Chelsea Clinton, and Zara Sheikh, sampling the local cuisine, low five-ing little kids, and dapping-up street vendors. Then, sitting down for a libation with politicians and clergy, all of whom ask President Shawn Carter to autograph their copies of The Blueprint. You never know..."

Keeping in mind the article's brief but suitable mentions of Dr Dre & LA Reid, VMA acceptance speeches, Brad Pitt's refusal to marry Angelina before gays & lesbians can legally wed, Nikes, and the less-than-ideal state of foreign affairs..., if an alien came to America-town today, I would give him this article and say, Here, this should about sum it up.

Then the alien would look at me all confused, either 1) because, like most non-Americans, he doesn't get "it", or 2) because he can't read English, which wouldn't surprise me since the illegal aliens working at both of the Uptown Subways can't seem to learn FIVE WORDS: pickles, lettuce, tomato, cheese, and olives........... the BLACK things for god's sake! those!! at least get rid of the glass so i can point to them!

bienvenido a Melee-i

college football at its finest, folks.

a little background: within a pathetic conference - when handling pigskins and sanctions - known as the ACC, there exists a highly overrated team, Miami, which bombs it big-time this season. They first lose to big-time rival FL State, which was a big-time game at the time, but now that both non-big-time teams are unranked for the first time since like the 1970s (relegated to the catch-all of overrated teams - the "Others Receiving Votes" category), it was really a stupid game to begin with. They then go on to win against FL A&M, which is a school I've never really heard of (for a reason), lose to Louisville, eke out a 1-point win v. Houston (yes, like Memphis, known more as city, not football team), "revenge" last year's loss v. UNC, and, last week, pound Florida International. literally. with football helmets and cleats and expletives flying around like flies around a horse's ass (see youtube.com).

So much so that all the espn writers and commentators just could NOT restrain themselves from using the word melee in all their recounts of the on-field battle. I, myself, would've used internecine brawl, since it has more syllables and makes me sound smarter and is just as appropriate.

Anyway, the best thing to come out of the whole debacle were the comments during the i. brawl from Lamar Thomas, a (former) Miami TV analyst, whose following words were broadcast live on CSS (but will, saddeningly, not be broadcast again):

(Notes before reading:
1. Thomas is a former Miami player.
2. Florida International, despite its name, is not international nor across any oceans - it's across town from UofM.
3. The sound byte is even better than the transcript.
4. Apparently Thomas made references to the "OB", an acronym for the Orange Bowl (Miami's piss-poor excuse of a stadium that stands awkwardly in the middle of an uninviting, unattractive ghetto), many many times (nostalgically, I'm sure).)

"Now, that's what I'm talking about. You come into our house, you should get your behind kicked. You don't come into the OB playing that stuff. You're across the ocean over there. You're across the city. You can't come over to our place talking noise like that. You'll get your butt beat. I was about to go down the elevator to get in that thing ... I say, why don't they just meet outside in the tunnel after the ball game and get it on some more? You don't come into the OB, baby. We've had a down couple years but you don't come in here talking smack. Not in our house." (see espn.com)

oh man it makes me laugh every time. The sad thing is, poor Lamar got fired, and I'm pretty sure he just got hired before this season's start. I have no clue why on earth you would choose to fire the guy when he provides so much entertainment. I mean, he was just putting his "heart on his sleeve", as he commented. It was all about heart. No condoning violence.... but... I bet his heart-on-sleeve would've been the one leading him down that elevator shaft.

But that IS why i do so love college football - so much heart. which used to sound humanistic. now, i become bellicose humanist.

Also, we have no problem with airing countless r-tard reality shows that debase human values at their utmost core, but we have a problem with a guy who gets caught up in the moment and blurts his heart onto his unassuming sleeve?... and is more entertaining? i mean, isn't that reality tv at its best anyway?

Also funny - at first, Miami suspended 13 of its players for 1 game b/c of the melee (heh). That one game happens to be against ........ Duke. Ha! That's like telling 13 fifth-grade boys that they can't go play badmitton with the fourth-grade girls.

OK, also funny - when you open up Florida International's homepage, one of the headlines is, "The Path of Nonviolence." Referring to Indian religion. Funny.

Ok, 1 more funny thing - the Forde Yard Dash, by Pat Forde, which is always fantastic, but does a great job this week labeling UofM as Thug U and FL Intl as Thugs In Training. Fantastic.

Scroll down a little in the Dash and get a taste of the rip on Georgia I'm going to make later. yeah, Uga can kiss Smokey's ass ... and the Commodore's, i suppose. ok, well, he can kiss mine at least.

monkey see. the end.

every time i watch extreme home makeover, it makes me feel like a lazy, inconsequential son-of-a-bitch of a person.

then i change the channel and realize i feel that way because i am that way. hm.

you're not fat. just the wrong species.

look what I found on msnbc pictures of the week... the LITTLE one is 270 lbs! i don't know why it amazes me so, but it did enough for me to want to share it. now we all know that if an elephant wants to cut in line, not to mess with it.

laura’s deep thought of the night.

the thing, the great thing, about laughter is that it’s like an orgasm.

it’s only worth anything if its genuine, if its elicited by the right stimulus. you can’t fake it. a fake laugh is just uncomfortable. it leaves a bad aftertaste. your company might be pleased because they think they’ve made you laugh, but really you’re just upset that not only was nothing funny, but the company thinks they’re funny when they were absolutely not.

but genuine laughs. those are the best. pure, simple, human. moments to live for and what not and what all. they make us human. what is there in life but a good laugh? sometimes I start to feel inhuman. then something makes me laugh.

like jim dangle’s shorts – or, rather, legs – on Reno 911! or the picture of me, Kristen, and Leah doing the JC Penney’s catalog pose. gets me every time.

(... the analogy was over like 2 paragraphs ago, just to avoid confusion)

.... unrelated: who else loves that version of "somewhere over the rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole?? Also, new songs by Luda, The Red Suit Apparatus, the Killers, Frankie J, Mario Vazquez, the Raconteurs, and Fort Minor aren't bad. happy with the normally sub-par selection of new songs out.

1/56ths spent blogging?

I mean, the more i think about it, the more i think that life is just meant to be unfair. I spend 1/4th of my life on my period... so i spend 1/4th of my life bleeding and unable to have sex - an injustice in its highest form. So what if that's what needs to happen for me to reproduce - what about me?? so unfair, no one ever asks me how I feel... I also spend 1/24th of my life getting "ready". Getting ready for what? for the world to see me. Considering that 5/7ths of those 1/24ths are spent getting ready for work, that means i spend at least 2.9762% of my life just getting ready to go somewhere i don't want to go. Not going to calculate the time actually spent at places I don't want to be because ... why would I waste my life doing that?

Lately all i want to do is eat and sleep. what a glorious life that would be. if I ruled the world, there would be 50% sleeping and 25% eating and 25% of whatever you really enjoy doing in life, besides sleeping and eating. dancing, fucking, walking on the beach, whatever. you choose. let's just hope some people really enjoy manufacturing mattresses. and farming.

eat, sleep, die... eat, sleep, work, love, die... eat, sleep, work, buy nice things, buy love, make love, make love work, work, buy, sell soul, die. Prost!

a little upset my Oktoberfest glass did not get back to my apt with me. But, all considering, much worse could have been left behind.

in totally unrelated note, really ashamed that albert haynesworth went to UT. who does that?

not drunk enough to preclude blogging

I have been drinking for 12 hours now. and it’s kind of riduclous when you think asbout it ebecause it’s not like anyone really should be drinking for 12 hours straight. and I have to say I’m pretty proud of myself for making it this logn and also for making it home by myself, all pure and chaste, but still no one should be dirnking for 12 horus straight. yeah. that’s what I think. what, bitch??! I’m over it. and you don’t even know what I’m over, most of you, but I dknow, and I know I’m over it. bevause I said so. jover. done. peace out

oh, and you better be glad, person who requested drunk post, because i did this for you~!! yes, all for you, like a sister hazel song.

ahhhh it's october! ahhhhhhh
time flies when you're durnk.

ignorant superciliousness

ok, mark wants me to write a blog. but i'm tired. and i only have 2 original things to say.

1. i just clicked on this random girl's profile on facebook (i know, i'm horrible), and in her "mini feed" it says, so-and-so just left the group, I'm Storming the Field When We Beat Florida 2006.

Now, accuse me of superciliousness (i just like the idea of people saying that word out loud), but I'm pretty sure if I were to exercise my line-item "hide story" power on facebook just once, it would be to delete that. I mean, that's just humiliating. Leaving that in your facebook mini feed nowadays is as embarrassing as it is for Kenny Chesney to take off his hat in public. You just don't expose yourself like that.

2. maybe, just maybe, i can see the merits of occasional ignorance. why? because "The Seed" by The Roots is a great song if you just ignore the lyrics or, if you're heaping ignorance atop ignorance, are ignorant of what they mean. Same with that marry-an-ugly-person-if-you-want-to-be-happy song, songs by the Ying Yang Twins, and 6/7ths of country songs.

fade to

DAMNit Grey makes me cry every gd time. and i'm writing on my blog about it because it's pathetic. i cry about made-up story lines with made-up people and made-up problems. But you know, Omar's wife should NOT have died. jesus christ, have you no SOUL?!

i really love that fall tv is BACK.

going to make green jello w/co-worker's calculator in it - credit goes to The Office for such an ingenious idea.

Part II

i wrote this all on 9/11 but decided, unlike the President of the United States of America, to say anything political that day. But, i mean, i just have to say it now.

I hate that we call it the “war on terror”. Here, 3 definitions for the word “terror”, courtesy of dictionary.com:

1. Terror is “intense, sharp, overmastering fear”. Spiders cause me intense, sharp, overmastering fear. Sad, but true. Are we going to exterminate the spiders? I mean, they really do scare the shit out of me. How can a “war on terror” be won? Bush said himself in his speech on September 21, 2001, that there are thousands of terrorists in more than 60 countries. Get some f-ing balls and call the war what it is: the War on the Middle East. The War for Oil. The War to Overthrow Saddam Hussein. At least if you’d called it the last one, W, you could’ve actually been right when you said you’d won.

2. Terror is, “violence or threats of violence used for intimidation or coercion.” In the 9/21/01 speech, Bush said, “The Taliban must act and act immediately. They will hand over the terrorists or they will share in their fate.” hmmmm… so we’re fighting our own tactics? Or are declarations of violence rendered OK because the President mentions the all-faith-encompassing “God” instead of Allah in his taglines?

3. Terror is, “informal. a person or thing that is especially annoying or unpleasant.” well jesus christ, who knows who the hell we’re killing in our “war on terror” then! that would definitely give me free reign to declare war on at least 2 people at work.

W said in his speech on September 19, 2001: “Some speak of an age of terror. I know there are struggles ahead and dangers to face. But this country will define our times, not be defined by them.”

Good thing we’re defining them and not being defined. God help us if we defined this age using the word terror.

I’m not trying to be overly sarcastic… it’s just that easy. No. no. I meant, it’s 5 years later, and I still don’t know whom or what the hell we’re fighting, I sure as hell don’t know if we’re winning, and I only know that I’ve lost all confidence in the decisions being made.

Don’t worry; there are only 2 parts to this series. Can i get an Amen?

Part I

There’s a boy – 6 years old, kicking around an old soccer ball in the front yard with his dad. The neighborhood is alive at dusk; 2 doors down a dog is barking, 2 more doors down a little girl is screaming at a little boy to get away from her or she’ll tell her mom. Mom can’t hear because she’s in the kitchen making dinner. Her older brother is outside, but he just tells her to shut up. A car rolls by, lacking a muffler and kicking up dust, causing an annoyed instant of commotion up and down the street. Another car drives by, a little faster. All of a sudden gunshots fire, screams resonate, insurgents shoot back at an Allied Forces tank. Dust really kicks up now, for minutes that last too long, pure terror for the 6-year-old boy, the dad for his son, the dog 2 doors down, the little girl 2 more doors down, the older brother who wished for once that he could hear his little sister. The outcome: a fatherless 6-year-old, a brother with no siblings, a barking dog offering the only sound beyond the crying.

We call those boys evil. Maybe they are now. But terror breeds terror. An emotion that is pure doesn’t let logic get a voice; emotions push to extremes, logic never does.

A word really doesn’t exist for things like 9/11. it’s almost better as those 3 numbers and a symbol because words don't represent the way we felt, the way we still remember exactly what we were doing when it happened.

But I think …. sometimes we forget that those people – those middle easterns, those insurgents, those terrorists – are, ultimately, just people. And some of them are just f-ed up in the head, just like the crazy people here (I work with some of them). But some of them have faced heartache and death and vengeance all their lives, and called out hopelessly to the sky that this life is just not fair.

5 years later, I’d almost forgotten – why did they kill us in the first place?

Because they hate us, and now… I’m just afraid that we’re feeding that hate. It’s not about Bush, about pulling out, staying in. God, that makes it sound like a bad porno. It’s about feeding that horribly illogical emotion of hate. It’s not about killing innocent people; it’s about killing people and leaving behind innocent people who cared about the people who are now dead. War is fertile ground for personal martyrs. I feel like this “war on terror” is just kicking them up like weeds.

Cultures are vastly different, but people are fundamentally the same everywhere. It’s weird, actually… weird to go to a different country and meet someone who acts just like your best friend back home.

All I’m saying is it’s weird, and emotions make you do really stupid or drastic or harmful things. We all know that. And we all know that 9/11 is very emotional. all the way around, up and down, through and through.

to buy an envelope

i don't have anything to say. so, mr. vonnegut is my proxy tonight.

when he tells his wife he's going out to buy an envelope:
Oh, she says, well, you're not a poor man. You know, why don't you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet? And so I pretend not to hear her. And go out to get an envelope because I'm going to have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope. I meet a lot of people. And, see some great looking babes. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And, and ask a woman what kind of dog that is. And, and I don't know. The moral of the story is, is we're here on Earth to fart around. And, of course, the computers will do us out of that. And, what the computer people don't realize, or they don't care, is we're dancing animals. You know, we love to move around. And, we're not supposed to dance at all anymore.
--as told in a PBS interview, 2005

well, i did have a good time dancing last night... although today i swear someone was dancing on my head.. the bastard

no subject

i must say this has been a trying week in laura's world of public accounting. public accounting. pah. i don't know what's so public about it.. i sit in a cube all day and get to meet ZERO new people. daily. what you know about that.

but anyway, coming home tonight to have Agassi, Kirk Herbstreit, and Diddy all on tv at the same time made me v. happy. oh. mY GOD i am so ready for football season. I love that Americans love football. watching boys run up and down a big lawn with big white numbers painted on it, counting up and down to the red zones and end zones. and we go CRAZY for it and pay lots of money to watch them do it and plan events around it and drink watching it even if we're truly not that into it (my god, who are you??). YES yes i love it. and i will never know as much as the boys about who's the best in what position and who played for whom 50 years ago, because, frankly, i don't give a shit and can't remember all of it anyway, but i will always love watching it. and always root for Tennessee.

AND i don't care if you don't like Kirk Herbstreit because he said such and such about your team once and made a bad prediction and doesn't know anything about football in your expert opinion. I like Kirk.

ANd i think Fort Minor's thank you list tonight on the VMAs was longer than my list called, "People I Know."

so it goes

You know, I wake up every day, in this place, in this skin, with these ideas and experiences behind me, and nothing in front of me except what I can extrapolate from what’s behind me, and I buy food, eat, and then excrete it, and it fuels my body so I can keep living another day. and then one day the food kills me because I ate the wrong kind, or maybe a truck hits me, or I get an STD and blame death on my irresponsible libido, and I die, and all that’s left of me is a tombstone with my Polish last name, so that when a kid walks by, he would never guess a silly asian girl is down there. If he had to guess, he’d probably picture someone who looks more like my dad, so I guess I am a product of my parents, and that last name probably paints a more accurate picture than the person I show to the world now. so it goes.

Sorry that was depressing. I’m in one of those moods. Going to go to the pool now, where everything stays superficial. is a good fix.

cougar-fearing whats?

have you ever thought about all the things we feel, experience, know that don’t have words to express them? or maybe, that what we feel, experience, know is shaped by words - at least in the degree to which we relate it to others? Does that limit what we experience? does it limit life? I mean, even as I think about it right now, I can’t seem to make myself think abstractly – to think without using words. I may be making it more difficult by typing while thinking, but still…

I wish I knew a different language. I think it would be sweet to be able to think in a different language.. it would also be sweet to be able to describe things with a word other than “sweet” all the time. dulce. yeah. one of my friends told me once that she even dreamed in Spanish sometimes. that’s pretty sweet as well. maybe I’d get a Latin lover that way.

Also, who made up words? It’s a natural progression, I have to believe, from cavemen to the present, as it was probably easier to construct a language back then:
Caveman #1 sees cougar prowling slowly towards him. He grunts, which ends up sounding something like, “fear!” (er, whatever “fear” sounds like in Latin, though, of course).
Caveman #2 is standing beside him and nods his head in consent. “Fear” now has a meaning.

As opposed to someone now trying to make up words if, heretofore, none have existed:
Frat Boy #1 sees pretty girl prowling slowly towards him. He grunts, which ends up sounding something like, “hot.”
Frat Boy #2 is standing beside him holding the remnants of a joint and nods his head in consent. “Hot” now has two meanings.

so much to say, but no time to say it, no one to say it to, no words to say it with, and everyone’s afraid of public speaking.

and for emergencies: keep margarita mix on hand at all times

as my friends all (painfully) know, i hate being cold. thus, the thought of winter really depresses me. i also really hate shorter days. BUT! i figured out what keeps me from having SAD (.. genius acronym):

what gets me through August -
the thought of Fall and its reign over the warm side of the color wheel: FOOTBALL season, Neyland Stadium, falling leaves, apple cider, hayrides, Halloween - a great holiday because it's the only one that makes it nationally OK to scare the shit out of little kids, dress like a slut, and gorge yourself on candy

what gets me through November & December -
the thought of the holiday season. I just really love Christmas - a great holiday because it's the only day that my parents actually give me stuff gratis anymore. Oh, and family. yes, I love family... ohhh but i also LOVE my mom's maraschino cherry cookies and my dad's cranberry bogs. & our tradition of watching Christmas Vacation every year on Thanksgiving. So you could say that "I love my family and the things that solidify our love for each other." yes, perfect.

what gets me through January to March -
these are the hardest months, but the thought of spring and ultimately summer keep me from shooting myself. hmm.. also, do not have to go to the grocery store or run many errands at all because i never leave work. Oh, also, I do not have to shave my legs every day during these months. Boys ask, big deal? Very.

flipping awake

so i was reading the introduction of the awakening tonight (you have to read intros after reading the book, or else the book is ruined in a muck of analysis; plus, they usually plot spoil), and read this:

"Or [Dostoevsky and Chopin] may be said to propose that every human act is of the highest order of complexity and of ultimate significance."

so i was really contemplating that when I, in the same instant, looked up at the TV to see Paris Hilton preparing lunch on the simple life by ironing a quesadilla and throwing some Froot Loops on top. no shit.

i just had to sit and smile for a long time, realizing the naivete of the intro writer's statement.

Also read today:

"The humor in government, especially the way we elect Presidents, is the mother lode. When you're watching a man flip pancakes in New Hampshire while answering questions about Social Security reform, you're watching a funny way to choose the leader of the free world." - Dave Barry

ah, love that man.

my fair lady

some unfair things:

• Kyan Douglas is gay.

• When I walk out to my car every morning, I see two of the exact same cars. One is mine. The other is owned by some boy who went to Duke. My car looks infinitely better only because mine has a pretty, silver “T” license plate on the front, and his has an ugly Duke license plate on the front. Ah! I found a picture. See how ugly? ruins any otherwise respectable-looking car.Anyway, must be unfair for him, because he paid exorbitant amounts of money for his education while I paid next to nothing, yet we now have the same exact car and apartment, except mine are both prettier (I obviously don’t have to have seen his apt to know this). I (I have to admit) am also a little prettier. What?? with make-up on, i win hands down.
  

• this excerpt from an AP article:

  "Hilton also told the magazine she collects $500,000 in fees just to show up at parties and other events from Las Vegas to Tokyo. Her best-paying gig, she said, was a recent Austrian appearance.

  'I had to say "hi" and tell them why I loved Austria so much,' she is quoted as saying.

  And why does she like Austria? 'Because they pay me $1 million to wave at crowds!'

• i'm getting blog-comment spam... i mean, really??
  

as you wish

short wish list:

1. world peace
2. a car that never needs servicing, has a battery that never dies, does not need to be insured, is self-cleaning (... ovens can do it!), and that cools down black leather steering wheels on hot days
3. for dubya never to say another thing about what he’s going to do and why without knowing how the hell he’s going to do it
4. to always get my first serve in
5. on the subject of tennis, to become betrothed to andy roddick (he’s the only one I will deviate from my previous list for)
6. for people not to care about what drunk people say, even if he/she happens to be famous. we all say stupid shit. well, maybe mel said some really stupid shit, but i'm just already sick of hearing about it. jesus christ. yeah, i bet he said stupid shit too... come to think of it, isn't he responsible for starting all of this?
   
7. to travel to every continent, and to Colorado, before 30
8. to win publisher’s clearing house (seems more fun than the lottery.. plus I get to meet ed mcmahon or something, right?)

Haven’t you heard that, I’m the new cancer?

How portentous is my blog? The morning shows and The Colbert Report just got in a fight. Don’t know the story? Here, I’ll be the reporter. FL Congressman Robert Wexler recently went on the show, and in the interview Stephen points out that Wexler is running in an upcoming uncontested race. So he says, hey let’s have some fun with this. Tell me why you like cocaine. After some prompting, he concedes, and Wexler ends up saying, “I like cocaine because it’s a fun thing to do” along with something about enjoying prostitutes. You can watch it here – it’s really f-ing funny.

Anyway, both the Today Show and GMA actually took it seriously and chastised people for even agreeing to go on the Colbert Report. They then showed a clip where Stephen asks some guy supporting the public display of the 10 commandments to actually name the 10 commandments. The guy goes, “uhh, all of them?? uhhhh… I cant do it.” Then Lauer said something like, “Why do people continue to go on the show? … I guess they think they’re being ‘hip’ or something.”

So the night of his show, Stephen shows a string of clips where the morning newscasters are very seriously saying things like, “What happened to the python in the electric blanket???” and “60% of women wear uncomfortable shoes,” and says, I should have asked Wexler something more like, “Do you really need to wait 30 minutes after you eat to go swimming?” which is a direct quote from Lauer.

What can I say, I love em both. I am the stupid American by day, and laugh at myself by night.

Anyway…. in other news, since I am reporting: I’m obsessed with the Panic! CD (hence, the blog title), I enjoy the new Landon Pigg cd, as well as the new JT song, even if it is completely digitalized, the Kings of Leon CD is definitely growing on me (kind of like, i'm-really-too-cool-to -be-listening-to-anything-else music), and I think I will impale someone if I hear that horrible, whiny Rihanna song one more time.

m for mavericks

I could write about several things… but many of them are inappropriate, gossipy, melodramatic, or just silly. Ok, that “or” should have been an “and.” in any case, I think I at least have to get out onto Microsoft Word paper my familial trip to New York…

Picture me… sitting on my grandma’s pontoon boat… my cousin is driving the boat, steering wheel in one hand, beer in the other. I’m holding a salted margarita on the rocks, my Burberrys are on (everyone makes fun, so I might as well write about them), the wind is whipping through my hair, the sunset is amazing. My other cousin is on the other end of the boat, holding her year-old baby, who looks decidedly content cradled in her mom’s arms. We stop for a quick dip, talk about old times, new happenings, make sure to maintain our buzzes.

Ok, that was Sunday. This is Tuesday (Mon was boring): to know - my paternal grandmother (her name is Eleanor. hereafter referred to as such) does not get out of the house much. She’s getting old - you know the drill. So the one place we can convince to drag her to is the … wait for it… yes, the casino on the nearby Indian reservation. (Oh, yes, we are from Rome, NY, not NYC.. not nearly as bon ton, I know. And, to know - rednecks exist everywhere.) So we, good sports we – my parents, my little bro, Nana (my maternal grandmother), and I - trek it over there, take the shuttle (after boarding behind the huge, waddling lady with a cane) from the parking lot to the casino, and tada!! welcome to the Land of Depravity. Welcome.

We eat at the food court because my father is, in almost all situations and economic circumstances, cheap as dirt. Eleanor orders a side of potato salad as her entrée, which comes in a small Styrofoam cup and refuses to eat anything else. Anyway. Then we wander around for a few minutes because no one can figure out where to buy the cards to be able to use the slot machines, and I’m too apathetic and embarrassed – for everyone, the whole world, really – to talk, point, or anything else constructive. Someone finally figures it out (read: asks enough uniformed old people to get pointed in the right direction), and we’re off.

Well, somehow… i lose my parents & bro, and am stuck with the 2 grandmothers. Fine. At first, fine. We sit down; my dad has given me $25 to gamble with (in a generous moment), so I start pushing buttons, and my grandmothers do the same. I win $10, lose $20, etc. My grandmothers start to get bored, and Nana all of a sudden becomes determined to find the penny slots. Fine. Whatever, fine. So they start walking (slowwwllyy… ever ever so slowly), and I follow, as Nana asks every person she passes where the penny slots are. We get pointed, but apparently ALL the old people like the idea of penny slots, so the first few rows we find are full. We move on.

What ensues is a turtle-paced chase after my grandmothers, who are on a very serious and formidable quest to find the penny slots. We finally find them; a sigh of relief, and I excuse myself to the girl’s room. When I come back, Nana is in a panic:

“Laura! Why does it keep taking all of my money! Look, I press 3 lines, 1 bet per line, and then press the button… and, look!! it takes all my money!”

I watch her explain and press it again. I calmly point to the screen:

“Nana, the button you’re pressing.. see, it says ‘Max Bet’. That takes you up to 20 lines, and 20 bets per line… $4 every time you hit it.”

By this time, I can see she’s already down to about $3 from the $20 she started with. All of a sudden, animated coins start to fall on the screen, and her $3 moves all the way up to $48. I was happy for her of course, but I know my true initial thought was, aw seriously?? she had no clue. this is bullshit. So of course, I start pressing the Max Bet button on the adjacent penny slot machine, and promptly (I’m pretty sure it took about 1.36 minutes) lose all but $2.

To conclude the day, we finally find my parents & bro; they insist on really “making a day” of it, so they sit and play the nickel slots, betting 1 line & 1 bet on each line at a time (yeah, 5 cents a go), so that I sit there, put on a fake smile, and watch for the drink lady, but, since it’s a dry casino, my bright spot of the day was a cup of coffee.

Yeah, just had to write that. The vacay was really altogether relaxing and good.. we even went into N. Syracuse on Wed before my flight so I got to see my old houses and elementary schools. ah, memories. But family is really so funny in so many ways. You should hear about Eleanor’s prescription medicine bottle labeled “M”. All I’ll say is, the “M” stands for “mixed”.

oh, and by the by, just saw that I spelled “inconvenient” wrong in the title to one of my prior blogs, but not in the following subtitle. which brings up the fact that the title and subtitle were one and the same. Creative. and proof that I was, in fact, DOAT.

i don't teach, i just quote. and lie. but only to make a point. disclaimer: points not always valid

funny quote from the Colbert Report tonight, as I realize that my day is sandwiched between two completely different ways of broadcasting the news - GMA: morning news show hosted by old women and wholesome, married-with-ultra-cute-kids-who- may-sometimes-make-guest-appearances-on-the-show- to-up-the-awwww-factor men, and the Daily Show & Colbert Report: late-night news spoofs hosted by politically biased middle-aged men whom i admire unabashedly. Squeeze in a bit of work, e-mailing, eating, tennis, and reluctant ironing in between, and you've got my weekday life.

Anyway, quote by Colbert was something like,

"the New York Times had an article titled, 'Time Out: Spanking Teaches Kids Violence is OK.' Ummm, how about, preemptive attacks on other countries teaches kids that violence is OK???"

Here is my disclaimer for paraphrasing. woot. in addition, here lies my disclaimer that I am also, like my admirees, totally, completely, 110% unbiased in all of my opinions. You know, because they are my opinions. And because all opinions are, de facto, at least 100.4% unbiased.

america the beautiful

just watched GMA, where they featured two off-duty american soldiers who are attempting to swim the strait of gibraltar (europe to africa) in honor of american war vets. and the sad thing is, diane said, “…and they plan on losing 5-8 lbs. in this one afternoon of swimming…” and all I can think is, these boys are probably going to make a lot of money selling the new diet fad book.

gah, America. but… I guess, at least we aren’t head butting people. but then again, we also aren’t winning any significant world sporting events. AND that Portuguese Ronaldo boy is much hotter than any of the quarterbacks or chipper joneses we so reverently worship solely because they play the sport, NOT because they're actually really that good-looking.

but, i do love it here. don't get me wrong. they give you lots of ice at restaurants, and you don't have to pay for extra condiments. i don't want any hate mail.

truth or lambchop?

when are we old enough to know? are we mature enough to understand when we’re able to understand? if you can mentally understand the logistics of how babies are made, are you mature enough to know about sex? if you still believe in the pelican theory, are you too young to know? I mean, I’m pretty sure if you had tried to tell 5-year-old me that you put that in there, and nine months later out pops me, i would’ve looked at you like you had just told me Mr. Rogers was actually a magical unicorn that chameleoned into a man every day when I got back from kindergarten for a half hour. I also would’ve asked something stupid in my incredulous state, like, does that mean Mr. Rogers has one of those too???

if you figure out santa’s not real, are you old enough to know things aren’t always what they seem? that reality is just what you believe is real? that people’s realities differ? that reality is simply what you’ve been taught, unless you choose to question it? if you haven’t begun to understand doubt yet, can you still believe that all dreams come true? is it better to believe that? or is it better to know the truth (that work is a necessary evil and that dreams are realized in either victories or vacations, which are always too short, or families or love, which are always too dysfunctional)? should there be a little bit of both? if Christians tout truth as being so virtuous (“I am the way, the truth, and the life”), then where does that leave belief? if Allah is the truth because you believe he is the truth, then what happens when you start to doubt your beliefs? is he still the truth? is it really that bad to believe something that isn’t true? well, maybe.... since the truth is, jews aren't meant to be exterminated, blacks aren't meant to be slaves, suicide bombers don’t get rewarded, no weapons of mass destruction are in Iraq, grudges between African tribes are not worth holding, Chinese babies shouldn’t be murdered if they’re not boys, she’s been cheating on him, he’s not her real father, and that doctor never got a medical degree (woah, sucks that you got that lypo without a background check, huh..).

But..., also true: people kill out of hate, his dad was a drunk, people will not always love you the way you want them to, eating canned spinach won’t make you spontaneously grow muscles, no one knows if all dogs go to heaven, your dreams might not come true, nobody really thinks your art is masterful, china & japan are not the only 2 asian countries… things no 5-year-old really needs to know.

I tend to like the truth, even if it is usually exhausting, inconvenient, and/or just terrible. because if it is, then I want to know about it. but believing is necessary too… because I don’t understand everything. Apparently I’m not old enough yet.

Just don’t tell me Mr. Rogers was a unicorn. I’d rather believe he was a friendly old man who always hung his coat up and had a fun choo-choo train. I already had a rough patch when I found out Lambchop was a puppet. No Santa, no Easter bunny, no tooth fairy, no Peter Pan, no Lambchop, no Big Bird, no Smurf village. Damn those childhood liars.

globular or flat?

Myrtle Beach weekend was good. Why do I admire the merits and outcomes of hard work so much, yet all I want to do is lie on the beach for the rest of my life? so unfair. why can’t lying on the beach be work? why can’t civilization prosper and grow by lying on a beach. if I were god…..

just kidding. well, if I were god, i would make sure no one made movies starring overpaid actors playing Mr. Remote Control God. so lame. maybe not as lame as that new movie coming out w/uma and luke – super ex or something?? really????

I wonder if god feels the same wonder as we do, gaping out at creation. Probably more so. an artist is proud of his work if he knows it’s worth the pride, right? I love standing on the shoreline, watching the waves rise slowly.. and then crash towards me… just standing there, knowing the force may move me, but that the object itself will not knock me over. I stare down, watching the former wave slither away, but with more dignity than the word slither implies. it’s in a hurry, like it knows it has more sand, more creatures to move through. More ocean depths to cover, more lands to visit. I like standing there and feeling the water carry the sand out from under me. it’s in a hurry again; this time it’s rude, annoyed that I’m standing on something it obviously wants. I love falling asleep and waking up to the sound of it, reminding me that the water never stops moving. but I love love love just staring out at that expanse of water. it goes where you want to but cannot. not without hard work. I can see how, if I had lived 500-some years ago, I would’ve aspired to explore. how could you stand on a shore like that and not ache with wonder at what’s beyond the horizon? Even if you had thought the world was flat, what’s there to lose? I’d let curiosity kill me and then let anyone who cared remember me as “the girl who fell off the edge of the earth.”

then, if I happened to fall onto Asia on my way down…. ohh, is that how it all started?? the history books must have it backwards..

btw, global warming was the “highlighted topic” for today on wikipedia. for a while, if you clicked on the link, it would say "fuck you irish guy!" over and over again before delving into the scientific... err.. inconvenient truths of GWarming (which i did not quite get to). more entertaining than Al and gratis as well!

an inconvient truth

an inconvenient truth.
reasons to see:

1. learn about one of the options god is playing with for the last chapter of his book called "the world" ("avian flu" and "kim jong, fidel, and osama unite" are strong contenders)
   
2. support something you believe is worth supporting (e.g., nationwide (not worldwide - only americans can vote the democrats back into office) informing of global warming, the delay of the apocalypse, liberals with too much free time, people married to people named tipper)
   
3. see an inconvenient truth

better alternatives:

1. google the phrase "what if we all quit work and just drank quietly until our ultimate, collective deaths BUT not before creating a huge world-ending bomb to go off exactly one minute after our collective deaths"
   
2. go see the Break Up to support jennifer & vince - i've heard it's bad, but at least no one is named tipper or al
   
3. look in the mirror at the huge zit growing inconveniently on your forehead right before your first big date/interview/naked photo shoot

selwyn tonight!
beach tomorrow!
music!

signing off - lhd, doat (drunk on a thursday)

a list

673. I just found out one of my friend’s (Leave it to Beaver-like) parents are getting divorced because the husband of umpteen years has a new girlfriend.
674. Sharing is just not my style.
675. It’s a mere game of tag, you're it! in Hollywood.
676. I am selfish and not a good listener and many other things that would land me in a counselor’s chair.
677. Right now I can write whatever I want without anyone looking over my shoulder.
678. If I got pregnant, I couldn’t drink for NINE whole months.
679. If I got pregnant, I’d only have NINE months to stop swearing and develop a soul.
680. I’d probably fall down the aisle.
681. My family is notorious for extreme inebriation at any and all family gatherings.
682. I hate mowing lawns, and since the unsaid rule is to buy the house after the ring, I’d probably have to mow a lawn.
683. I can hardly handle parental love maturely; forget love love.
684. I wouldn't be able to watch really bad late-night porn with my friends of the opposite sex anymore.
685. If I want a 'witness to my life', I'll just sign up for a reality TV show. or get a dog. maybe an imaginary friend and name her Sally, since my dad won't let me name my car ("it's a car, Laura, not a damn ship)
686. I would be waiving my god given right to be on The Bachelor.

The preceding is an excerpt from the list, “Why I am never getting married.”

where i go ever

you know, right after i wrote that last post, i got one of those stupid drunk urges... kind of what a pregnant woman's hunger pang must feel like: really odd and random but very distinct and real. I decided i really, reallyyy wanted to ride a bike. and i love the saying, 'it's like riding a bike' because it's so true. so my drunk self meandered down to the basement, dug up my old bike, and rode that flat-tired sucker up and down the street once.. then i schlepped it back to where i found it. I guess those few minutes were enough to sate my pregnant desire... or else they were enough to get me out of breath .. damn tennessee hills. I guess the pre-ride margaritas and flat tires didn't help.

anyway. i just watched the scripps spelling bee and was super excited that i knew one of the 'champion's list' words, tmesis. and you are probably thinking, wow, you are an even bigger dork than i thought, first for watching the spelling bee, second for knowing a word, and third for being super excited about it. But the only reason i know it is because i use a variation of tmesis a lot... e.g., abso-fucking-lutely. I just looked on dictionary.com, and they put,

"for example, where I go ever instead of wherever I go."

What?! that doesn't even make any sense. My example is obviously superior.

don't thank me for the linguistic lesson. stay tuned for the next edition of, Learning with Laura.