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.

one on my chest

this writing , me writing, it's a little bit under the influence, but i'm going to do it anyway because i feel like i have to... have to talk through my fingers, because i can't through my mouth. it's a chronic thing, really. but maybe not. i've watched old home movies, i seemed to have talked a lot, liked the spotlight. maybe that hasn't changed. maybe i'm just more unsure of what i have to say. if only i could go back to those days... when everything i said was right.. because my 4-year-old self knew it was right, and my knowledge was all that mattered. now i'm in this place where what other people know matters too. and of course, it's mattered all along.. now i just have to acknowledge it.

anyway, rambling. again. i just finished this book where the main character's sister dies, and it's sad, but sad in a good way. i like sad because it makes me think. but then i closed the book, and i stared at the tv, a blur of high definition racecars rounding the track again and again, the distinct buzz prominent but distant. i literally shook my head, trying to bring myself back to reality.. i said to myself, focus, laura, focus. your parents are in the room. your sister never called on mother's day, has only been to the house once since Christmas, and you know how smoothly that went. now she's said she would come today but hasn't yet. your mother is hurt. your dad is too, he just refuses to show it. your older brother is a dumb(*&^ at best, but at least he's come back. but it still hurts. and what do you do?? how do you tell someone how much they're hurting someone you love without being offensive? without pushing them further away? do you pretend like nothing's happened? do you do nothing? and watch your mother tear up every day? and how do you stay patient through that? how do you ... i mean, god, what do you do? so, this. this is what it's like when someone you love is hurting and you can't do anything about it. awesome. well, i need to get back upstairs or they'll think i'm ignoring them too. that's another thing: my siblings are such fuck ups that i have to be uber careful about what i do, or i'll upset them more. god, life. i love it, i hate it. this is retarded. i'm going back upstairs. i'll probably read this later and wish i hadn't posted it on the gd internet. oh well. when else do i get to be truly honest with people?

oh, and kristen, it's junior brown. that f-ing rocks. look for a star to put on my new car :)

lord, i was born

All right. I’m 23. I feel the same, of course, but only in comparison to the second before I wrote “I feel the same.” If it were a tradition to, say, brand people with the numbers “23” on their asses when they turned 23, then…. then I might feel different. But no, luckily, I live in a semi-civil culture, and that is not the tradition… for humans at least. They may do it to imported Guatemalan pigs or something, I don’t know. And you already know I don’t know if there is such a thing as a Guatemalan pig, nor – if they do exist – if we import them, nor – if they do exist and we import them – if they live to be 23. Anyway, see? I’m the same ramblin girl. I just downloaded Allman Brothers’ Ramblin’ Man… I love it when I find a good song I’ve forgotten about… comparable to the way Jesus felt when he resurrected Lazarus. that's only my best guess though. i didn't really know him. pity, i've heard good things. But I won’t ramble too much more. All I can say is that I had a really..reeaaally good bday weekend. And I can only thank my friends… jello shots, pj, putting up streamers while i'm at work, power hour, police control, highway patrol, late night hot dogs, driving me to the loop after i can't figure out what i want at arby's, movies, bowling, green hats in bushes, exorcising demons.. gah! they make me so happy! Even if they are unsympathetic to me getting older… just because I am still younger… so petty, I swear.

yeah.. 23.. just tryin to make a living and doing the best I can. lord, I hope you’ll understand.

my vacation

i just brushed my teeth after coming home from Hilton Head. and my toothbrush tasted like vodka. that is all. well, also... barnacles!

lesson: breathing is important.

OK, I’m sorry, but I have to comment… this David Blaine thing.. in a breath (no pun): Stupid.

The ABC commentator just quipped, “I don’t think anyone out there thinks David Blaine failed tonight.” Well, uh yeah, hate to break it to you, but … technically, he did. Not trying to be overly cynical… just definitional. I blame his failure purely on stupidity. because I’ve never tried to break a world record, but that’s because I’m not stupid enough to try. David Blaine – very capable of conquering one world record… at a time. Who tries to break 2 world records at one time? One’s not enough for one day? Who thinks, you know what, I think I’m going to attempt to break the record for most time submerged in a gigundo fish bowl in the heart of New York AND.. yes, ANDDDD immediately afterwards, break the record for holding my breath for 9 minutes WHILE unchaining myself from a fish bowl. No worry that I mentioned in a tv interview that, after 5 minutes, it feels like pure torture to not breathe, since I think we’re supposed to do that every second, but by golly, it sounds like a splendid way to spend an otherwise idle week in May. Yes, I have no sympathy. Starving people in Africa = sympathy. Idiot in fish bowl holding his breath = stupid. I mean, David’s cool in his own right… I liked watching him eat glass and take out some girl’s teeth and spit them back in, but cross the stupid line, and you’ve lost me.

Last comment: the whole production was lousy. When Blaine finally came up for air (after 7 freakin minutes – which is nothing short of amazing – I tried to play along… I only got to 45 seconds), his stupid coach says, “hey, you got this, yeah, you’re doing all right, just keep breathing,” in this stupid soothing voice with stupid ‘calming ocean’ music playing in the background. It would’ve been much cooler if, the minute he came up, someone had said, “holy fucking shit man, what the hell?? I only made it 45 seconds, but I mean, you only had 2 minutes to go! ..... good god, you look like shit! have a bad night??”

come to think of it, he prob made a crap load of money, and Disney made him do all that. ok, he gets some stupid points taken off. But not all!