Thursday, November 29, 2007


Today I will have Adventures in Legwarmers. Pictures to follow...

Sixteen plus hours later...


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Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

I made more than just the red ones, but I only photographed the red ones. Why, you might ask? Well, because I was going for a four mile run in the thrity-two degree fahrenheit weather and the red ones matched my red winter cap. More legwarmer pr0n to come in the coming daysweeksmonths.

None of this would be possible without the directions from ariel at I still need to introduce myself to her...long live the lurker!

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Bumper Sticker

You must be the change you want to see in the world.

Quote from Gandhi. Saw that o
n a bumper sticker tonight whilst out cruising in this crispcrisp weather. Too bad it wasn't on a Smart Car, but rather, on an SUV. Not even a hybrid SUV. Ugh.

Oh, how these little things get to me.

smart, smart car.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

I have a confession to make.

I keep spreadsheets of all the books I read so I can keep a running total of how many I read on an annual basis, as well reference particular genres I classify books by in order to revisit certain texts that are relevant to my life at any given point in time.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Remember These?

Before Dairy Queen put Oreos in their Blizzards, there were these:
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You may remember them better by an up-close shot:
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

The cookies shown above also made special appearances in your kindergarten class at snacktime alongside Fudge Stripe cookies, Grasshopper cookies, and Chocolate Covered Grahams. Oh yeah, and a pint of Meadow Brook milk.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

I have a confession to make.

I still watch Desperate Housewives regularly. Heaven help me.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

On the road again...

Moving. Again.

I hate it. But I love it. And I cannot seem to stop doing it.

Lately, I have been pondering why I am sooo sociopathically nomadic. Like what is the root cause of this high need...borderline(complete) move?

Could it just be that I am a complete commmitment-phobe?

Or moreso, is it duality of the aforementioned?

This is something I feel I should figure out in the near future.

Friday, November 23, 2007

Case of the Crazies

Lots of craziness in my life as of late. I wonder what I've been doing to bring this insanity into my world. At any rate, minor hiatus has been occurring and I think I need a couple more days. Best not to pontificate at this time.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

One Moment In Time

i broke my heart for every gain, to taste the sweet, i face the pain...

Wednesday, November 21, 2007


That is all.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Getting out of bed today was a bad choice.

Today I was going to write the second installment of my timeline and I am not feeling inspired, so I probably should not. I am the epitome of cranknasty right now. I can't seem to stop the bum rush either. The cranks just won't go away no matter how much I meditate, will it, try to think positively, etc. Sooooo, I'll see where the rest of the day takes me.

Brief snapshot of my day thus far: It started off badly with me rolling out of bed at 752AM when I had a 900AM interview. In Maryville. A forty minute drive from my apartment if there is no traffic. Forty. Minute. Drive. And no traffic?! Ha! NIIICE, right? No.

Then my hair wouldn't do anything short of a Spock-esque 'do. Yes, from Star Trek. No, I have not yet taken a picture, but will try to do so before the product loses its hold. Haha. This is also nice, right? No.

I get to the interview on-time, even seven or eight minutes early...thank you MINI. But I am cranky without appropriate caffeine consumption and bomb out when responding to the questions asked of me. I just know it. My answers to the questions were horrible. Horrible. Had I woken up on-time and consumed at least two 20 ounce bottles of Diet Coke, I would have been ok. But no. I didn't even have 10 ounces of Diet Coke. Anyways, you know how you just know things sometimes, I just know it. And knew it. Even if the hiring manager liked me, the VP of HR certainly didn't as he called me by a different name as I was leaving. Triple NIIIIICE, right? No.

I leave the interview, get in my car. Only to find the service engine light ignited yet again on the domey thing above my steering wheel. This is just what a recently full-time unemployed chica known as me needs right now. Sure, I have freelance, but bill cycle and payout times aren't always consistent. AWESOME. No.

Then I get home. Something smells unsavory in my apartment. What do I do? Start taking stuff out of my derby bag only to find a rotten banana in one of the "secret" pockets in my bag. It has got to be at least two weeks old because I only put food in my bag on bout dates. October 27 was our last bout. And why did I not smell it whilst up north? Because the temperature ranges from coldest to coldestest up there. So the hey nanner nanner must have frozen in my car. Frozen = No Smell. Gross. Yes. AWESOME. No.

I then get so frustrated about the banana and the interview that I decide I should go to the library to be more productive in my job search. Need to get the hell out of my apartment, you know? So I pack up my laptop bag, grab a hat and sweatshirt. I go outside and it is freaking monsooning. I decide to forge ahead. Yeah. The freeways are flooded and everyone is driving horribly and I swear I hydroplaned a few times. I swear. I thought I was going to die. FANTASTIC. No.

Arrive at the library only to find that I forgot my power c(h)ord at home. Yes, it is symphonic. Anyway...I thought I packed it. I thought about turning around and going back out to get it, but then thought I didn't want to die today, so I stayed. EXCELLENT. No.

And now I am here writing this blog with 35% of my battery power left and there are too many high school kids milling around having social hour and being all upspeaky and teenagery. And I want to spit poisonous darts at them just to get them to shut up already...didn't they learn the library is for quiet time? Go to a private room or go somewhere else if you are going to talk so LOUDLY.

And then on top of it all, there is this kid sitting right behind me who breathes really heavily. Like he has a deviated septum on crack. And if you know me well, you know that I think the heavy breathing quality is one of the most abhorred afflictions I think someone could possess. I want to spit darts at all heavy breathers, too. Especially this one. OMG.

Thus far, today is something I could conceive as being a hell. My hell. Today. Right now. It better get better. Or else. Something. But I don't quite know what that something is.

Funny, I haven't asked for patience lately, but it seems I am getting hella tested.

What is up with that?

Friday, November 9, 2007

This Just In...

According to many of the holiday commercials going on this year, I, as an aesthetically pleasing female, will apparently love you forever and kiss you until death do us part if you buy me some diamonds from Zales.

Yes, apparently love can be bought. Love is a commodity to be purchased, traded, and/or bargained for during the holiday season of 2007. Or has the concept of LOVE AS COMMODITY always been around - dating back to paleolithic times? Yes, I do think it goes as far back as that.

Thursday, November 8, 2007

Quote, End-Quote

In dreams I open my mouth and butterflies come pouring out. But what happened wasn't a dream. What happened was real. I opened my eyes and the shadows took shape. They folded into origami wings. I opened my eyes and began to see.

I opened my eyes and out flew bats.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Ice, Ice Baby - To Go, To Go...

Yes, I know I have those lyrics written incorrectly. No, I do not care. I used to think that was how the Vanilla Ice classic went. You know, back in the day of L.A. Gear sneakers, rugby shirts courtesy of the Gap, ESPRIT jeans, and slouchy socks. And don't forget the hair. I was never super-tease-a-licious like one of my five older sisters used to tease the mane. One year, this particular sister's hair was actually cut off in her school portrait because the photographer couldn't fit it all in the frame, but I certainly cannot say I NEVER fell victim to the pooftease. HAHAHAHA. Classic.

Much to my chagrin, it has been ice-storming up here. Grrrreat. I don't miss this weather. Nope, not at all. I am supposed to be leaving the northeast part of the country on Sunday or Monday. Hopefully the weather decides to shape itself up and stop being a complete buttface. There is not much else worse than being stranded somewhere when all you want to do is leave. Times like these really tend to clearly display my idiosyncratic nomadic needs and ways.

Monday, November 5, 2007

Angst and Catharsis

Oh man. Do not read old, angsty CRAP you wrote as a teenager at 145AM on a school night while you are alone in a room with nothing but your computer, books, and itunes to keep you company. Seriously. This leads to serious cases of the hotface, laughter, tears, shifty eyes, and knotted stomachs. Do not venture into unchartered territory alone. Better to do it in a public forum.

I wish I could attend a Cringe night in NYC right now...or at least go on tour so I could have it more accessible. I think reading this crap out loud to total strangers would be quite cathartic.

And you know, it's all about me. Haha. Seriously.

Saturday, November 3, 2007


On my journey up from KnoxvilleTN to EriePA on Monday, I drove through CincinnatiOH. While coasting along Highway 71 North, you encounter a fairly long tunnel. I held my breath through it. Just like I used to do when I was a kid and we were on family trips to visit one of my sisters in NashvilleTN. Funny thing, though. The tunnel is not nearly as long as I remember it to be. Or maybe as I've grown up, my perceptions of things that I once held as so much larger than life and monumental in my mind have diminished.

When I was a child, I remember barely being able to hold my breath the entire length of the tunnel. Twenty years later I hold my breath like a pro. Has the passing of time and maniacal exercise and smoking the P-Funks helped expand my lungs? Do I have a larger capacity to hold my hot air inside of me?

Just a thought on a random Saturday evening.

Friday, November 2, 2007

Decade One

I posted this in two of my other blogs a little while ago, but thought it would be good to repost here as I am participating in NaBloPoMo AND my 30th birthday is coming up in a month, so I have two more decades to contribute to the concept which Maggie Mason talks about in her book. Word.

My first decade...

Age 1: I cry all the time. My dad hits me.

Age 2: Walking is not an option for me at this point in my development. My mother and sisters feed me all the time in order to keep me from crying for fear of our father beating us. I am too fat to walk, but I sure can read.

Age 3: I want to be a Solid Gold dancer. I twirl in my pink tutu while watching Dionne Warwick on the television. I fall on the coffee table smashing my front teeth into the wood. My top two front teeth turn grey.

Age 4: I do not go to pre-school. I am told I do not need it. I am elated I don't have to go like all my neighborhood friends. I like to read the dictionary.

Age 5: Kindergarten testing. I am obstinate and refuse to take the IQ test. It is determined that I am "retarded" so I am placed in the lowest level learning groups. I star in our class production of Chicken Little. I am told, "You're not fat, you're just husky."

Age 6: Mrs. McClure realizes I am not "retarded," but rather, "quite smart," after I am caught sneaking to the fifth grade section of the library to read their books. I am taken for extensive testing and am moved to the highest levels; this wreaks havoc on me internally as I am now an outcast with both the "slow" kids and the "whipsmart" kids. My parents get a divorce.

Age 7: Mom attempts suicide. I discover her. I do not know what to do so I scream for someone in the house to call the police. Mom survives and goes to the mental hospital for months. Me and three of my sisters are shipped off to live separately at different houses.

Age 8: I'm back at home. We're all back at home except for my father. I resent my mom and vow to myself that I will never be like her. I meet my best friend, Dayna.

Age 9: Mrs. Drexler reads the word, "penalized," as peee-nuhll-eyesd. I snicker to myself. It sounds like penis. I never heard it pronounced out loud like that in my life. By this time I have already read my mom's mammoth hard-covered dictionary three times, so I know it is pronounced that way, but hearing Mrs. Drexler say it that way makes me blush.

Age 10: In fifth grade health class we watch a movie called, "Julie's Story." It's about a girl who gets her first period. I pass out while watching it. After the movie is over, we are given goody bags with maxi-pads and tampons in them. My closest friends have already gotten their first period. Not me. I am a latebloomer.

Thursday, November 1, 2007

NaBloPoMo Kicks Off...

And I have absolutely nothing on my mind to write about today. I've been stewing on my NaBloPoMo writing plans for well over a month, and yet today I am empty, so I am writing about that. Maybe later I will feel inspired and will write about rainbows and lollipops. Or not.

Being up north is very interesting to me.