let's just say...

I went to get my teeth cleaned today and the dental hygienist said the right side of my neck is more developed than the left...so now I'm walking around with my head tilted to the left.  I look like an idiot.

and

one doctor's appointment turned into three :(

and

if you tell your family that cancer doesn't scare you and you'd be fine if you were to die tomorrow...they look at you, eyebrows furrowed, like you're a crazy person. then you chuckle to yourself, sadistically.

yule

yule (or "Yule-time"): is a winter festival that was initially celebrated by the historical Germanic people as a pagan religious festival, though it was later absorbed into, and equated with, the Christian festival of Christmas.

Isn't this the greatest picture?! Reminds me of the year my mom made my step brothers and I matching Disney Christmas sweatshirts.  Mine had Minnie Mouse on it and if you pushed a button, it sang! That's right, it sang. I'll have to try and find the picture as proof.

Found it!

As for the holiday, it was enjoyable.  I was the only kid home this year, so nothing too exciting to write about.  Is it tragic that all I can think to write is a list of the presents I got? Damn materialistic Americans!  Actually, I only got a few things which was quite nice. Quality over the quantity, as they say. I got a sweet long-sleeved camo shirt (corn-field to be exact), some sketcher slippers I've been pining for for awhile, a mini-muffin pan, pasta noodles shaped like the Space Needle (which I think is my mother's subliminal effort to get me to go to grad school in Seattle...over the course of the next few months she'll be sending me random gifts related to Seattle), and a zhu zhu pet from Burger King. Speaking of my mom, this is a funny story...we were in Fred Meyer's the another day and we see a set of zhu zhu pet accessories, and my mother thinks out loud, "why would anybody dress their pet hamster up, that's torture!" I barely had the heart to tell her that zhu zhus are toy hamsters...so what does she do, she gets me one for Christmas. My family also gave me cold hard cash. They were too lazy to fold $1's into a money chain, so they just gave me a wad of money instead. The teller at the bank though I was a stripper when I went to deposit it in my account.  Classy! I bought new skates with that money though. My holiday has been reduced down to a secular list of greed-inducing acquisitions. Oh, bother.

I like being on the giving end, more than the receiving end.  This year, I made my mom's dog a snuggie for Christmas. It's ridiculous.

Poor thing.

frisson

frisson: a brief moment of emotional excitement, shudder, thrill

does anyone have a quarter? Anyone? I swear there was one in the bottom of my bag. Somewhere. Dammit,  I need a quarter...

I saw one on the floor across the break room and a sudden frisson overcame me. I clicked that quarter into the candy dispenser, down tumbled nine chocolate-covered ovals, like a multi-colored avalanche of sugary goodness. After seven days without sugar, eating a handful of peanut M&M's felt triumphant. It was truly gratifying. Detox is arduous, but I survived

update 12/24/10: I've got to re-up the sugar detox staring Sunday. I realized this upon baking marionberry shortbread today. Funny thing is, I think the only reason I bake is to eat the batter. Anything for sugar, right?!  There needs to be a 12-step program for this addiction. In fact, I went as far as to google if one exists, only to discover that, while in office, President Ronald Regan always had to have a bowl of jelly beans on his desk.  I'll try not to, but chances are I'll end up like Regan...or like Chief Johnson on The Closer who has an entire desk drawer devoted to sweets. oh bother. I'll let you know how it goes, again.

update 12/25/10: I mean next Sunday. I'll start on the 1st.  I worked retail the day after Xmas and it was too much for me to handle. so, I came home and had fudge for dinner. Rocky road fudge, to be exact. The next day, my family had asked who had eaten all the fudge...I blamed the dog.

slippery slope

slippery slope: (also known as thin edge of the wedge, or the camel's nose) a classic form of argument, arguably a fallacy, that states that a relatively small first step inevitably leads to a chain of related events culminating in some significant impact, much like an object given a small push over the edge of a slope sliding all the way to the bottom

I had the weirdest dream...

I was following Loss Prevention people around a department store, and we spotted a girl with long blond hair.  It didn't appear as if she was stealing anything, but I kept yelling at the Loss Prevention people, "Shoot her in the foot, Shoot her in the foot!" Suddenly, Kathy Griffin showed up and informed us that shooting anyone in the foot was an unethical gesture, a slippery slope even, leading to a life of violence.

really? a slippery slope!

I need a boy like you like a hole in my head

I need a boy like you like a hole in my head: a song lyric from The Dixie Chicks' 1999 release "Fly," the sucky truth

I fell
and hard.
no cartoon band-aid will heal this wound.
I fell
and couldn't get up
it was winter and I laid there motionless
until my brain froze over
I fell
and no one came to help
defeated, I accepted my demise
I fell
and music rained down, vibrating all around, shaking my skeleton skinny
I fell
and when the music stopped, I reached for a can of anti-freeze, defrosted my brain, and told you how I should have eaten the entire cake before my stomach rotted away and fell from my bone
sometimes the most pernicious parts of our personalities are the ones we love the most
you make me sneeze and not in twos



p.s. I don't need this right now, I have two term papers to write and bigger fish to fry. why do you do this to me? fuck off. (wow I don't think I've ever told anybody to fuck off, that's fun).

Update: 12/14/10 6:34am Like a balloon, I let go.

Update: 12/15/10 1:53pm went to lunch with nick at pepinos, you'd think it would have cheered me up, but sadly no. As delicious as the burrito was, my stomach still hurts, I still have a massive headache, and I can't focus long enough to get even one page of my thesis work done. Oh and I couldn't sleep. As I lied there last night, restless in my bed, headphones on and music blaring, I realized that I'm bone tried. I'm tired of people telling me that I "deserve better." What the fuck do you think I'm deserving of? The David, Superman, or some other impossible ideal?  You all just don't get it.  I've never wanted "better," just sincerity, just you as you are (I mean, honesty and dependability don't hurt either). Gosh, I hate being a masochist.

nonsense

nonsense: words or language having no meaning or conveying no intelligible ideas

The Rubick's were kind enough to let me take Sasha (the 5 year old I nanny) to the RCR (Rose City Rollers) league meeting Sunday night...

Me (thinking to myself)- ok, car seat, check. food to eat, check. color books for entertainment, check. wheels and gear to return, check.

We get there and Sasha sees Christmas Cookies in the shape of skates and I let her have one. We find a seat next the Beatties and, surprisingly, Sasha listens patiently to all the roller girls speak, engrossed in what they have to say. No need for the color books.

But then, about 5 minuets before we have to leave, Sasha gets antsy and turns to me to say- "this is nonsense!"

I had to bite my knuckle not to crack up and interrupt the meeting.  It was hilarious. Some of the Betties gave me funny looks, and I made a small sweeping gesture with my hands saying- I swear she's not my kid.

This reminds me of another brilliant Sasha moment.

One afternoon, we walked to the library to color and say hi to Kate.  While in the library we were seated on a bench waiting for Kate to get out of a meeting when we saw the Dean's assistant and Sasha turns to me and asks (loud enough so others could hear), "Is she important?"  I asked her why she thought she was important and Sasha says (again loud enough for others to hear), "because she has big hair."  Ha!  That's the secret people, get big hair and you will be important.  Then, when we went to leave Sash demands, "Run!" And I say, "no, it's not safe to run in the library." And Sash says, "Well we should walk as fast as we can then."

claustrophobia

claustrophobia: fear of having no escape or being closed into a small space

six hours in a tiny room, bug-eyed in front of a cheezy job-training tutorial has taught me one very important piece of information- in 1941, President FDR moved the date of Thanksgiving to earlier in November, extending the holiday shopping season and allowing for more economic gain. God bless America in all it's materialistic glory! No seriously, if it weren't for this, Macy's probably wouldn't need as many seasonal workers during the winter, and I probably wouldn't have a job over break. So huzzah.

I start picking up shifts at the end of this week. And if this job is anywhere near as exciting as the training videos were, I'm going to have a blast selling people jewelry and blenders and department store trinkets. Look at this guy from part of my training on general safety,

he can walk over the top of government documents in cyberspace...like magic. Ooooh, ahhh. Experiencing this alone was worth the two hour drive between Portland and Olympia that I have made over five times in the last month.

My job training ended around 8:30pm and then I made (or attempted to make) my step-dad a birthday cake.  It was supposed to be German Chocolate, but looked more like Dilapidated Chocolate. Dad said it was delicious just the same.  Isn't he obligated to say that though, as a parent I mean? My ability to make savory and flavorful cakes that can't stand upright is a truly mystery.

let's just say...

Let's just say, I started eating meat again.

(still no red meat though)

also, when Nick was in Boise he sent me this picture:

What a wonderful person; he went to Five-Guys, just so I could experience it vicariously through him.  I suggested that he eat a grilled cheese with pickles (that's what I always get), but he doesn't like pickles :(

happiness is a smooth side walk

"happiness in a smooth sidewalk" –sally peanuts

I'm quitting school to play roller derby...ha! I wish.

Nevertheless, Sally Peanuts is correct; nothing's better than smooth concrete and 8 wheels. Come to think of it, Sally Peanuts is usually correct. Take for example:



Sasha and I watched The Great Pumpkin a few weeks ago while I was nannying. When I saw this clip, an uncannily similar feeling stirred deep in the pit of my conscious. Ideally, I will never again be cheated out of tricks-or-treats, but let's be honest now.

Anyway, this weekend was busy (well, mostly just Saturday).  I drove up early in the morning to Olympia and had an interview with Macy's...and then got a job with Macy's! Hooray for not having to job hunt anymore.  That process is quite possibly one of the most tedious and tiresome. Mom and Dave bought me lunch at Subway. Then I drive straight back to Portland to NSO for two Rose City Roller Derby Bouts. The gals killed it during both games.

Look at the sweet new shirt I got...

 

Also, not that I ever play this game because it's totally degrading to (digital representations) of women, but Adult Swim came out with a new version of Pole Dance Hero to distract you from any homework or productivity. I beat it in a half hour and then had nothing else to do, so begrudgingly, I worked on my thesis. blah.

Remember how a couple of posts ago I put up a picture of a scooter outside a strip club (see "Let's Just Say" 11/20/2010)? Curious about this, I asked some of the girls at derby and have since learned a Fun Fact: Portland is the nation's mecca for strip clubs (more per capita -or some fancy term like that- than Las Vegas even)! no joke.

on my mind...

what will I think about myself and my blog posts 10...15...or even 50 years from now?

also

why is it that mostly women blog?

black friday

black friday: the day following Thanksgiving Day, traditionally the beginning of the U.S. shopping season On this day, many retailers open very early, often at 4 a.m., or earlier, and offer promotional sales to kick off the shopping season.

Natalie Dee

every year, 4:30am. Knock, knock, knock. Switch. The light is too glaring to open my eyes. I all I can see are yellow blobs. My mother says with enthusiasm that only coffee can provide, "Wake up! It's time to go shoooooooping!!" I think she even claps her hands with joy.  It'd be better if she just said, "let's get ready to rummmble" (which I oddly thought was "rumbo" for the longest time) or something to that effect, at least that way I'd think, in my half-awake not-yet-cognisant morning haze, that I was preparing for an epic sports game or to go to war or something more worthwhile than shopping.  I roll over and groan.  Eventually, I get up and put some pants on and maybe a little makeup.  Despite the effort, I still look like the living dead at this hour in the morning.  You'd think by now my mother would have realized that I am the wrong person to take Black Friday Shopping. Despite my grumpiness, she brings me anyway. Think I'm bitchy during normal daylight hours?  Try making it 4am and adding six million annoying holiday shoppers. Oh man, my cynicism becomes particularly caustic, especially if I'm not fed.  Usually I end up getting a thing or two (I got a cute dress with skulls all over it) and tolerate knowing that I'll have to do this next year as well...so long as I'm compensated in I-hop pancakes.

After Friday, I got pesto pizza with Kayliegh, and we collectively decided that higher education is a joke.  I also had a sort of mini-date with my step-dad.  We watched The Hurlocker, my choice.  That's a damn good film. A sobering look at war from the perspective of three bomb-techs in Iraq. For parts of it, I clean forgot I was watching a movie.  I especially liked the grocery store scene, it rings true to all the experiences I've had with war vets. Next, I want to watch the wind that shakes the barely.



p.s. fuck, I didn't do any homework this weekend. well, I did, but it didn't make a dent in the amount of work I have to do :(

mashed potatoes

mashed potatoes: the most perfect food in the world. also, "the mashed potato" was a popular dance in the 1960's.

ha! Don't look too closely in the background of this picture. There is a woman making an obscene gesture.

any stretch of twenty four hours where I can eat mashed potatoes more than three times and have it be socially acceptable is alright by me!

for turkey day, I was going to make the potatoes, but the Lyle came over and delivered us a batch of his.  No joke, his are the best potatoes in the universe.  I've tried, but simply cannot match their superior taste.  It's like heaven drenched in butter and garlic. Instead, I made the dessert; ginger pumpkin flan.  For my first time making flan, it turned out perfectly.  I was quite proud.  I think my step-dad ended up eating most of the flan; it's his favorite dessert.

pictures to come

bad religion

bad religion: the kings of punk rock. sometimes when there's nothing going on in my brain (a rare occurrence) this lyric passes through my brain, "Nothing comes easier than madness in the world today. Mass paranoia is a mode not a malady."

I recently drove down to Eugene through a sticky molasses mess of traffic. Once the goo of traffic dripped off, Nick and I went to see Bad Religion play.  I hate to admit it, but this is the only show I've been to in about three months.  Pathetic, I know.

Nevertheless, it was a quality time with a quality person.  Nick and I ate at Pita Pit before the show and decided that it's a bit disturbing to see what you're eating (tomatoes, lettuce, bacon) personified in paint on the walls right next to your table.  Yum, delicious tomato smiling at me from above.  Creepy, really.  The show was, in the words of my dearest friend Nick, "kick-ass." The Bouncing Souls opened, and man does the lead singer have the most unusual stage presence.  I couldn't tell if he was just high or really confused and maybe thought he was singing to a 1960' lounge of suave people.  It's as if the words and sounds coming from his mouth didn't quite match up with his motions.  I wanted them to sing this:



but they didn't.  That's okay the superb talent of Bad Religion and the brief moshing moments of bliss (note to self: don't wear glasses to the next time, I was Nick's coat rack for half the show as he flailed his arms and legs about...and as I got latched onto by the most intoxicated woman there, I think she thought I was an attractive male and all Nick could do was laugh, making the situation ten times worse) made up for it.  Speaking of Nick, this man has the most amazingly accurate old-Jewish-woman-who-smokes impression.  I've always admired people who can do impressions and change their voice.  Imitation really is an impressive skill.

After the show Nick made me watch Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, which I'm sure is a delightful movie, but when you are super tired, a little cold from trying to sleep on a leather couch, and have had two years of rhetorical criticism, it's hard to watch a movie without picking it apart.  My college education has ruined watching movies for me, everything I watch has some sort of "reading" and can be analyzed in some sort of way.  Damn college education.

update 12/15/10: This reminds me, Nick let me borrow Greg Graffin's book Anarchy Evolution: Faith, Science, and Bad Religion in a World Without God, his signed copy and what is the first thing I do?  I drop it in the mud :(  don't trust me with your valuables.  No, I'm a careful custodian of anybody's valuables, I just had hands like butter that day.  Anyway, thank you Nick for the book (and the half dozen more that I have borrowed from you over the past few years). POWER!

mithridate

mithridate: a confection believed to contain an antidote to every poison

today I learned somethings about depression.

I learned that writing is therapeutic. Well technically, I knew this before, but I found a scholarly book about it while at work.

Also if you're feeling sad, eat a piece of toast...or an orange.  The complex carbohydrates and the citrus smell of these foods boost serotonin.

let's just say...

my niece is unbreakable. I never thought I would think a two year old was this awesome.

and

something about this doesn't fit. A motorized scooter outside a strip club? Last week I saw a mini-van parked near the front entrance. I am excited to see what next week has it store, the Pope-mobile maybe? Odd.

also...more on Bad Religion concert to come!

let's just say...

"take your panties off" means something completely different in roller derby. best practice yet.

video games

video games: secret coded language used by asinine fools and crazy girls

Video gaming video game. I video gamed video games and you are still video gaming? Why are you still a video gaming video game? Video games!

lucid

lucid: easy to understand, suffused with light, vivid

I've been having trouble sleeping lately, surprise surprise!  Sort of half-sleeping, where I never reach deep REM.  Makes for lucid and realistic dreams.

take for example...

I thought I saw you at Burger King, but it was just a dream. You know the one, it's right next to Wallmart and your school. You were standing there, in the longest line, arrogantly aloof, attractive in your own stupid way. I watched for a few minutes. Nothing significant happened. Your phone buzzed and you looked at it discreetly. You slipped your hands into your pockets and leaned back onto your heels.  Then you smirked and drug your feet a few steps forward to close a gap in the line. Just little things. Weird but, this was the you I once knew.  I stopped watching when you got to the counter and gave your order.  Shrugging my shoulders, I turned to leave.  As I was pressing my way out the tinted glass door, you approached me. But it wasn't the you I knew.  This "you" was different. Significantly less attractive and much more gregarious.  We stood there awkwardly for awhile.  I complacently listened to you tell me all the things I once wanted to hear.  I should have been happy, right?  I wasn't. "You" just confused me more. Who was really the ugly one?  The you standing in line or this new "you." I woke up longing for authenticity and truth.

Apparently,
I still can't shake you off my conscious,
too many stubborn thoughts and mulish memories,
although better than the tears,
I bang my head and shake my ears,
no matter the ferocity, they simply won't fall out
stuck, like water from the poolso clear, they were once invisible,
now a murky chlorine green,
almost gone, I was wrong,
they're slowly seeping back while I sleep.

cheese

cheese!: what people say to get others to smile when they taking a picture

I'm in love and here are the picture to prove it...derby pictures, that is! we took one as a team yesterday too. these ones are all of me, I thought I'd share.

I'm in the bottom row, three to the left of the middle

http://www.flickr.com/photos/masonite-burn/5111456889/in/set-72157625233157886/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/masonite-burn/5112048904/in/set-72157625233157886/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/masonite-burn/5112051540/in/set-72157625233157886/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/masonite-burn/5111454575/in/set-72157625233157886/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/masonite-burn/5111462551/in/set-72157625233157886/

inured

inured: to accustom to accept something undesirable

to all those inured to war...

On the one hand, I'm sitting here this morning, comfortably eating my cereal and typing thoughts of free speech thanks to you. But as I swirl my spoon round the snow-cold milk and watch my words and uneaten Cheerios dance round the bowl, I recall all your pain and how it trickles down. You've affected my life in ways I never before imagined.

so for the things you do, that others can't. for the shit you've been through.

happy veteran's day.

search

search: to look into or over thoroughly in an effort to find or discover something; come to know by inquiry or scrutiny

I am a slave to Google.  I'll admit it.  I can't even fathom what it was like before there were search engines. I am utterly dependent.  I even text Google to define words for me when the dictionary is sitting two feet away.  Lazy. Really, I'm just another measly member of the Internet's indoctrinated chattel. Take for example that I'm writing about this on the what?...oh that's right, the Internet! For crying out loud. Sites like Google, Facebook, and Readit are today's postmodern information oligarchicy.  They are today's contemporary gatekeepers.  So, what happens when this small group implodes? How will I ever write papers, keep up with current news, or define words for christsake?! well I suppose I could try the dictionary. Ahh man, but it's such a long stretch of the arm.  Too...ti...red.

This was one of the topics discussed during an MLIS class that I sat in on last weekend.  I drove up to Seattle for an admissions interview at the University of Washington and learned all sorts of magnificent things about their graduate program.  Now if only I could magically move the Udub's program out of rainy Seattle.  I need (need need) to get out of the northwest, I've been here far to long.

It's official, senioritis has set in early.

Also, I attended the annual Mary Stuart Rodgers Scholarship Banquet.  This year they gave fellows paper weights instead of rings...well that and a sizable amount of $ for school.  Thanks Rodger's family endowment...

Little to no social life, an ulcer/insomnia, and hours of homework have paid off.  Finally, I am now the proud owner of a paper weight!

That was rude. Sorry, I can be rude sometimes...or all times really. I should work on that.

let's just say...

let's just say that somewhere out there I am in, not one but, TWO tattoo picture books. I'm pretty much famous.  I sign autographs, if you want.

seriously though, Mike V agreed to touch up my tats!  this means overdue recoloring of the hearts.  I had to promise myself though not to expand any...namely because I'm broke and what will end up happening is as follows: I will go into the shop and Mike V will convince me that the pictures on my skin would be even prettier if I just did this and that, and I'll end up with half a tattoo because I'd only be able to pay for 1 1/2 hour's worth of tattoo work. don't ever start, or you'll never want to stop.

on my mind...

the GRE.

My brain has turned to mush, my eyes have all but fallen out of their sockets, and the entirety of my left leg is asleep.  In other words, I took the GRE today.  My scores flip-flopped in the math and verbal sections and I did far better on the math than I expect but my verbal needs much more work.  I'm predicting a re-take in the next month or so.  Hooray!  Just what I always wanted to do...take the GRE not once, but twice!

emphasis

emphasis: force or intensity of expression that gives impressiveness or importance to something 

I'm sitting in a booth, at pub, drinking watered-down rootbeer.  My fingers are greasy with tater-tot crumbs, pecking at the keyboard carefully so not to smear grease everywhere.  I suppose I could use a napkin, but this matter is too pressing. No time for napkins!  Fred and Kelsey are across the booth from me, we are working on our homework.  The grizzly bearded waiter just refilled my rootbeer. And from behind the bar, I hear “I’m gunna bring in that over-sized sandwich board.”  I start laughing uncontrolably.  Fred asks what's so funny and I explain to her, "Sometimes you have to shift the emphasis on words in life, keeps things more interesting..."  Mimicking the guy from behind the bar I seductively say, "I'm gunna bring in that over-sized sandwich board."  dirty, and yet so funny.  Okay, now back to homework and tatter-tots.

secret admirer

secret admirer: an individual who feels adoration, fondness or love for another person without disclosing their identity to that person, slightly creepy

seriously people who gave me that pin-up sticker?  I went to check my mail last Friday and discovered this!  

Don't get me wrong, I adore it.  I'm just curious as to who gave it to me.

Then I came back from class one evening and found Starbursts balanced on my apartment door handle...and not just any old Starbursts, but my two favorite flavors! curious.

abhor

abhor: regard with disgust and hatred

So, my mom called today and after a brief description of her surroundings, she asks me if I want to talk to aunt Tina (who undoubtedly is intoxicated, and if you know me, talking to intoxicated people is not really my thing).  This isn't so bad, but she does it aloud, in front of my aunt Tina.  So, if I say no, my aunt Tina will hear and may become offended by my rejection to talk to her.  I love my mother, but she does this all the time.  She has good intentions but every time it's, "would you like to talk to so and so?" "No, not really." "Are you sure?" "Yes, tell them I'm at work (because usually I am)."  "Okay, here you go." And then she hands the phone over to whichever relative you don't want to talk to. I abhor this.

Side note, I love how my biological father's side of the family never gets together unless someone dies or gets married.  As an added bonus, usually everyone (except me) is intoxicated at these events.  You know you're a Halgat if you have excommunicated at least two members of your immediate family and have not seen the rest since you got totally smashed at so and so's funeral/wedding (but not both at one time, because that would be a abominable affair that I would avoid at all costs, although it has happened).

Okay, so this may seem a bit harsh, but my family has put me through a lot of shit in life.  I love each and everyone of them (or at least tell myself I do), for they are all unique and colorful individuals, but they (as do I) have things to wrestle with and probably don't need my snide commentary to boot.  I don't mean to cause any harm, but it's nice to vent every now and again. Thanks for listening.

p.s. don't take offense to this mom. first, you are not a Halgat and second you are just a friendly, gregarious person, that assumes everyone wants to talk to everyone. and that's okay!

elated

elate: to make (someone) ecstatically happy

I have had a rapid and complete change in mood since my last post little over an hour ago.  I spoke with Nick and he not only linked me a video of OFF! http://www.youtube.com/user/offofficial (during which I thought to myself, never before have I seen someone who is simultaneously balding and growing out dreds), but he also informed me that he bought tickets for us to go see Bad Religion and Bouncing Souls next month! awesome.  I informed him that he had no idea.  my day was going so crummy up till then. I am now elated (more or less at least).

befuddled

befuddled: to make (someone) unable to think clearly

I'm certainly not ambiguity's biggest fan, I despise confusion, and befuddlement is my archenemy

The other night I noticed the little needle on my gas gauge had fallen into the red, I needed to get gas.  So I rolled out of the dark city street and into the dusty illumination of the Chevron station. I turned down my blasting music, put my car in park, and switched off the engine.  I sat inside my car, waiting for the attendant to assist me (they do that here in OR).  A middle-aged bearded man tapped on my window and asked me to pop open the gas cap on my tank.  I reached down for the switch.  Thinking that it had opened, I went back to waiting.  But again the man asked me to open the gas cap.  I explained to him that that I had already opened it, or at least I thought. I then posited that it simply couldn't be opened, it must be broken.  Then he replied, "You can't open it or you won't?" Eventually I got my gas, but nonetheless his comment confused me.

I'll leave you with a final thought: is life a "can" or a "want?"
also, if only I had the audacity...

let's just say...

let's just say, today I licensed a man named Atticus Finch for reality work (read To Kill a Mocking Bird much?) and almost quit my job because of my moral opposition to the audit I am running. Bleh.

tennising

tennising: the act of playing tennis (verb)

I nanny for one of the Reference Librarians at my university, Kate.  Kate has a five year old daughter, Sasha, who is a hoot.  My afternoons with her are delightful.  We microwave marshmallows until they are giant, expanding blobs of sugar.  We put stickers on things.  We make bubbles (and a soapy mess across the deck) using wire hangers. We terrorize Malia, the cat.  Sometimes, we even make mean-faces and use my cellphone to take pictures of our mean-faces. And my personal favorite, we explain words to one another.  Today, we went and watched a few tennis players practice in the dome.  Sasha was engrossed in the action. When I asked her if she liked tennis she responded, "I don't know, I've never been tennising before."  I chuckled a little and then asked her what tennising meant.  She looked at me pretentiously and said, "it's when you play tennis, silly."

dulcify

dulcify: to make agreeable or gentle; mollify, to sweeten.

image courtesy of wweekly

My week certainly was dulcified this fine Saturday morning.  My friend Jen and I ate breakfast at the Waffle Window in SW Portland.  It's a window...where they sell nothing but WAFFLES! savory and sweet waffles!!  Really, I was elated by my Blueberry-Cheesecake-waffle selection.  Rich and creamy, and mountains of whipped cream!  Jen's company cheered me up almost as much as the waffle did.  It's amazing, I'm so busy and reluctantly self-interested these days that sometimes I forget I have friends.  I need to work on remembering that.

image courtesy of Homebased Portland

let's just say...

had a counseling appointment today. that's it then. I'm gunna go listen to Rob Zombie and work on moving horizontally, whatever the fuck that means.

ameliorate

ameliorate: to make or grow better, to improve

I would confidently say that this weekend was ameliorative for my mood considering...

I lost my favorite black studded belt and went and waded through a sea of Saturday shoppers and bought a new one, only to find it the next morning.

And then at derby practice I was punitively sucker-punched in the boob.  During one drill, gawd forbid,  I toe-stopped instead of t-stopped and my coach came up real close and ordered me to put my hand out.  So I put my hand out, and prepared myself for her to vapidly smack my hand.  But then she smacked me in the boob instead. It hurt. Later during practice I was told a "grand slam" is a delicious breakfast at Denny's.  I also got three nifty new bruises!  And to think, I did this all while wearing hot shorts and knee high socks...who needs a crapy boyfriend when you've got roller derby?!

but I am most proud of the following...

While grocery shopping, I successfully walked by the Halloween candy display at Fred Meyer's without buying anything. Success! Usually I have mush for will power, like mashed potatoes. I just melt the minute they pour butter over me. Take for example the other morning on my way to class, I had a package of reese's peanut butter cups in my bag and took one out and ate it, then tried for the life of me to save the other.  But honestly, its destiny was doomed as soon as I put it in my bag.  The poor thing never even made it to my next class and all because of my non-existant will power.

Also, I'm proud of my keen decision making skills.  I think it was Wednesday night, I heard a strange beeping noise coming form the hall of my apartment complex…and I seriously considered getting out of bed but I choose to perish in the flames instead. This was a quality decision because not only was I sleepy and apathetic but also when I woke up in the morning, I was still alive.

9/21/10 In regards to K's comment: you make a fantastic point! however, even if they were called "mud enemies," I'd probably still eat them. and besides, I figure if all else fails in life, I'll just get a job hosting a tv show like "Kid in a Candy Store." delicious!

snow day (in September!)

snow day: when an institution, operation, or event is closed, canceled, or delayed as a result of inclement weather conditions, i.e. there's too much snow to go to school! a concept that, apparently, if you live outside the North West you don't understand. also my favorite day of the year (better than any holiday)!

okay, although it didn't actually snow, today is a virtual snow day! This morning my COMM 301 class was canceled and my work supervisor called in sick. So...SNOW DAY!!! I'm going to take this moment to relish all the free time I have. I think I've forgotten what free time is though. Free time? What is that? I guess I will find out as my day unfolds.  And of course, I'll keep you posted.

update 9/16/10 4:47pm: my day has since consisted of studying for the GRE (seeing that's only a month away as of today. scary!), watching random t.v. shows on hulu, and skating around my building out of boredom. woah, do I know how to suck the progress right out of a day. maybe I'll take a nap now. mmm. tempting.

 
update 9/16/10 9:15pm: I chose a new desktop picture for my computer...it's the coolest. Abe Lincoln in fisticuffs with Sasquash. better yet, I'll just show you >>>


p.s. did you know that Abe Lincoln is the only agnostic president of the U.S.? Props to him, he's slowly starting to supplant/supersede Teddy R as my favorite president. 

novel

novel: of a new kind; different from anything seen or known before

so Fred and I moved into an on-campus apartment this semester. and as a house-warming gift, my step-dad bought me the most novel invention, a microwave egg poacher! This thing is the coolest!! Thanks dad! oh and one thing's for sure, I'm not allowed to go to nordicware website site. It's like the humane society website, I just end up clicking on all the cute puppies I want to adopt (or in this case all the kitchen gadgets I want to buy) and then woosh there goes two hours of my time.

ncmo

ncmo: acronym for "non-committal make out"

so about making out...

I had a crummy day.  Worked a double shift.  Head was pounding.  Couldn't sleep.  I was watching late night news on channel 6 to kill time when, unexpectedly, my phone buzzed.  Someone was texting me.  Their message simply said, "I heard you had a bad day." It took me a moment to figure out who it was. Finally, I realized it was Ryan, one of my sister's co-workers that she set me up with recently.  I replied politely and went back to banging the remote against my forehead in an effort to alleviate pain.  Suddenly, our text conversation weirdly escalated to Ryan saying, "I'm on my way over to make out, should I not be?" At this point I was baffled.  My phone buzzed again, "I'm in your building's parking lot."  I texted, "I'll come down and meet you."  It took me awhile though because I couldn't find any pants.  Eventually, I found a pair of jeans and walked him back to our apartment.  Later Ryan told me, "you really didn't need to put on pants." True, this is true.

Thinking about it, what kind of person is crazy enough to come over just to make out with me and relieve my stress? and only after meeting me for the third-ish time! Ridiculous. I thought it was a nice gesture. Hopefully that doesn't make me a skank. Probably does. Oh well. Thanks Ryan...I think?

update: hummm. I've decided that being a good kisser is a curse. Don't get me wrong, I like making-out just as much as the next gal, but so far, I've only found one person on par and, well, let's not talk about that wound because it has yet to heal.

pagophagia

pagophagia: a form of the disorder pica involving the compulsive consumption of ice or iced drinks. It has been associated with iron deficiency anemia, anger issues, and sexual tension.

here's the thing about ice cubes...
eventually they melt,
slowly but surely
and quite possibly inconspicuously

so, drink your tall glass of hidden despair and inverted anguish
and with each naive sip go ahead and believe all the fallacies that motivate your ramshackle cravings,
convince yourself that ice cubes will forever be there, cool and supportive
hydrating the parched voids in your life,
but the more you blow hot air on them,
the faster the melting process becomes
and eventually you have no more ice cubes to plunder

tired of your hot air,
tired of your selfish need to suck on all my ice cubes,
I melted,
and now I'm drained
and you are too

just remember,
in your furiously frantic search for new ice cubes,
try freezing them
because It's all nice on ice alright.

p.s. I need to stay away from 25-year-old aries, the last three have not been good for me. no, they have not :( and that's right three of them...I think I have a thing.

rink rash

rink rash: bruises, contusions, red burn, scrapes, scratches, etc. that a skater gets after falling while playing roller derby.

you can see my toes in the bottom left corner!

tonight I pulled on my skull and cross bone socks, laced up my skates and hit the rink for derby practice. It was invigorating! I'm glad I can now confidently say that if I ever fall down again (in derby and in life), I'll just get back up, skate with furry after whoever made me fall, and punch them in the face, then later on I'll brag about the giant bruise that now adorns my thigh...seriously it looks like China or maybe Yogi Bear if you tilt you head to the left. p.s. I am such a dork "hi my name is Monique, I wanna be a Librarian, I play roller derby, and get excited about things like breakfast cereal and having my thesis nominated for honors status"

anything with a sticker of Elvis get my approval

bucket list

bucket list: a list of things to do before you die

Right now it is 10:41pm at night and I am standing here exhausted, with one hand on my hip and the other picking away at the key board. I have been this way for the past 20 or so minutes. I think my foot may be asleep. but I don't want to move, mainly because this is the first time I've stopped moving in the past week and a half. My body is still. My brain, however, is beyond preoccupied with all the junk I have to get done before I head back to school. So far I've spent 4 hours at the DMV, $397.25 on textbooks, and far too much energy worrying about things that aren't worth worrying about. And in lieu of doing all the things I should be doing, I am going to stand here, still, and type a list of all the things I'd rather be doing...

in other words, here is my bucket list:
See a firefly*
Send a postcard from the following places- Austin TX, San Francisco CA, New York NY* (it's too smelly for me), Ecuador*, Washington D.C.*, Japan, France, Spain, Budapest, Ireland, Germany, Australia, New Zealand, Iceland, Morocco, Vegas for NFR[], Florida[], Main to go crabbing/lobstering, Alaska to go salmon fishing, Italy, Hawaii*, x-country America*, x-country Canada, the moon
...actually I've decided to visit all the factories/head quarters of my favorite products (more on this to come)
Obtain my MLIS []
USFA OTS- Commissioned Communication and Information Officer []
Name all my pets after other animals []
Restore a piano
Learn to fly fish*...and actually catch something
learn to crochet*...then yarn bomb []
Grow a garden
Join a roller derby league*
Get a tattoo (or 2 or 3 or 4* or 5) []
Build a rat rod (requires me to learn to weld...also own a black 1970 Fleetwood Cadillac or a dusty pink Nova SS)
Learn to make killer mashed potatoes []
Become a notary
Punch someone in the face and mean it
Start a mixed CD group or a book club
Drive in a demolition derby
Get divorced (it’s inevitable). And maybe after I could date a man with a wallet chain and long hair. Better yet, just marry Eddie Vedder.
Destroy something important (demolish a building, ruin a marriage, infiltrate and bring down a syndicate)
Celebrate my 100th b-day (and still be healthy enough to eat the cake with my own teeth)
Live straight edge*
Kick depression in the shin []
Go to the opera in my pj’s
Hike Mt. St. Helens
Become fluent in another language (Spanish,* Sign Language)
Stay sassy []
Participate in a Historical Reenactment
Start a band/learn to be a better percussionist and keyboardist/learn the steel pedal guitar and accordion
Learn to square dance (really I just want to wear a big puffy skirt)
Die my hair red
Live where the stars are as big as silver dollars

* = already completed
[] = in progress

on my mind...

hooray for making out! more to come on this later :)

update 9/1/10: to K regarding her comment- "ncmo!" (for anyone who is unfamiliar with this term it means "non committal make out." oh you Mormons. how I love you!! you're good people. 

demolition derby

demolition derby: my life's ambition (or at least one of them). no really, demo derby is a motor sport with rules varying depending upon the event, but typically demolition derbies consist of five or more drivers competing by deliberately ramming their vehicles into one another. The last driver whose vehicle is still operational is victorious!

possibly the most entertaining demo derby event is BOAT RACING! This event is considered a "banger race", where drivers have both a vehicle and a boat attached without trailer, they then race around the track trying to annihilate as much as possible along the way. And don't worry, if you loose your boat, you can always push one around. 

Saturday night we took my nieces to the Meridian Speedway to see my friend Gill drive in said event.  It's funny, my two-year-old niece loved everything about the night.  Every time a loud hit happened, she'd turn to me with wide eyes and purse her lips together saying, "ooooh!" But my six-year-old niece, the bigger one, was terrified the entire time.  I don't think she likes loud noises. Anyway, Gill had a couple of epic spins, but burned out quickly.  For sure I'll bake him some cookies to cheer up!  There was once talk of doing so in exchange for a tattoo, but I'll do it sans tattoo now.  During the race my sister leaned over our shared nachos and insisted, "Monique, you should text Gill!"  And I responded, "I think of all the times to text and drive, now would be the least appropriate time to do so."  We both started laughing hysterically.  Soon after the race ended we decided that once Alby's car goes to the clunker gods (it's getting there) we're going to paint it pink and then enter a demolition derby! Raaaawr!! sorry, I really felt like growling. Demolition derbies will do that to you.  You'll walk away wanting to destroy something, anything really.  I just ended up vigorously ripping apart a post-it note I found on the bottom floor of my car, Hulk style.

perfect! I've been wanting an excuse to use this old political cartoon from the last presidential election. Now seems fitting...

Social Distortion

Social Distortion: an American punk rock band (also referred to as cowpunk or rockabilly) formed in 1978 in Fullerton, California.
Their iconic logo representing lead singer, Mike Ness' struggle with drug addiction.

Social D, Social D, SOCIAL Deeeeeeeeeee! I may have been mildly excited on Friday to see Social Distortion play live at the Knitting Factory. Who am I kidding, "mildly?" ha! No, I was beyond excited.  When Friday arrived, I was sooo eager with anticipation that I easily could have passed out from holding my breath and jumping up and down for so long.  Literally, I think I did this all the way from punching out at work to the ticket line.  I may have even ran into a parked car in the parking garage because I was so preoccupied with my excitement.  When we got to the venue, it was so packed that we had to play Marco-Polo in order to track down Gill.  Eventually though, we found him and of course Alby made friend's quick with both Gill and our neighbor's.  Not just because they were in such close proximity, but also because she had had a little whiskey before the show. Oh, Alby.

I digress, the set list was fantastic!  I always enjoy shows where I can sing the words to every song.  Around about the third song, "Prison Bound" I believe, I could feel the euphoria take over.  It's a feeling of terror and bliss all at once, where the music shakes your core and your spine trembles with the beat of the base.  This euphoric feeling is what I go to shows for.  It's honestly the only moment in all my life's experiences where I think about one thing and one thing only, the music that shakes me.  It's the only time that I truly feel okay, like the world stopped spinning and all my thoughts and worries just drain from my brain and everything is going to be just fine.  So thank you Social D, this feeling was much needed.  oh and p.s. thanks for drawing such a sweaty crowd of fans. I don't think I've ever smelled that bad after a show.

The night got even better with our trip to Wendy's.  It was about midnight and we had a hankering for delicious chocolate frosties! So we drove up to the drive-through window thinking that they'd be closed.  But to our pleasant surprise, they were not!! And well, let's just say I think we scared the Wendy's lady with our gregarious excitement.  Oh how I savored that frosty to the very last drop.  As I write this, I am reminded of a commercial for Sonic I've seen on TV recently.  It highlights how Sonic uses real ice cream in their shakes by showing two guys at a Wendy's drive-through inquiring about what ingredients are in a frosty...and well their whole point is moot because all I want after seeing that commercial is a frosty. a delicious frosty. so delicious.

blind date

blind date: a date between two people who have not previously met. normally not a good idea.

so my family set me up on a blind date last night. It was a double blind date. We ate fish tacos and went bowling.  A pretty decent time was had.  The guy they set me up with was super attractive, he had an infectious smile, strong stature, and freckles! He also had a wonderful personality, he was chivalrous, funny, laid back. AND YET...I felt crummy for the entire night.  At one point he was even sitting right there next to me on the couch and straight up asked if I wanted to make out, which trust me, I wanted to make out...but it would have been awkward.  I would have just thought of all the crummy heartache I've been harboring these days, and then the corners of my mouth would have sunk downward.  I wish you-know-who'd just leave me alone, get out of my head so I can move on and make out with other people, attractive other people who are sitting right there wanting to make out. I felt sorry for the guy.  I wanted to explain to him...so yeah I just had my heart ripped out of my chest by a person I felt deeply for...nothing against you, I just have emotional problems, surprise surprise! I'm tired of feeling like that though. I really don't want to be that girl again, the one with all the heavy baggage. Eff it. I should have made out with him. Wow, I sound like a 13 year old girl right now. Go me.

on a positive note much Social Distortion will be had tonight. AND if I can swing it, I'll get to go see my dear friend Gill drive in a Demolition Derby at Meridian Speedway tomorrow night. Wonderful. Not quite making out, but wonderful nevertheless.

update 8/15/10: to the author of the comment below I say, "trust me, I know"
update 8/19/10: see "on my mind..." post for 8/19/10 :)

oreos

oreos: delicious. they're a type of cookie...need I say more?

fucking oreos. so this morning I woke up and groggily worked my way from my bed to the kitchen.  In a daze, I got out the box of Oreos, crumbled them into a bowl, poured milk over the top (well I almost poured orange juice by accident, but caught it just in time), and dug in with my spoon.  Best part is: I got a text from a friend inquiring about what I was doing at that moment.  So I replied, "I may or may not being eating oreos for breakfast. please don't judge me."  My friend answered back, "the breakfast of champions!" His reply cracked me up. Really though, if I keep eating oreos for breakfast I'm not going to fit into my pants anymore.  I mean it.  Lately, it seems like the more sugar and junk I eat the more my heartache/worry/stress diminishes...however, the more weight I gain.  I don't gain weight normally though. When I gain weight, I gain it in only two places.  My but and my boobs.  No joke.  So these days none of my bras fit and I get hit on a lot.  Makes sense.  Man, I kind of want an oreo right about now.

regret

regret: : to mourn the loss or death of, to miss very much, to be very sorry for


I have many regrets I have in life, just opportunities I wished I had explored more.  I am not particularly mournful about missing these opportunities, just a touch disappointed. I mean, what if I had had the courage enough to pull myself out of the solid gray misery that I wear like a Kevlar vest, impermeable to humanity's crap.  I would have moved on a long time ago, forgotten your face in time to do what I should have been doing all along.  I would have gone to Henry Rollins and Mayhem Fest, I would have fucked (sorry for my vulgarity) that guy who works at the pharmacy, I would have started skating a lot sooner, I would have fly fished in the Boise River, I would have gone to more toastmasters club meetings and eaten a fuck load of macaroni n cheese, I would have DDed for Gill during Jaialdi and laughed at all the elated drunk people, I would have learned to square dance, I would have slashed your tires. Hummm, I did do quite a few of these things, but I did them while wearing my Kevlar vest, I did them dead on the outside, broken on the in.

Reflecting on this, insomnia has overcome me.  It's one of those nights where sleep has eluded every part of my being. I am antsy. My big sister is kind enough to sit up and she's keeping me company. Oh how she loves me! I mean, I could clearly see she is struggling to stay awake and yet she insists. Were sitting on the couch, the flickering light of a movie freckles our faces.  Now the credits are rolling, and I hug my knees to my chest, proclaiming with a yawn, "so this is it then? I vow never again to date a soul-sucking un-motivate jackass. THIS time I mean it."  Being the supportive sister she is, Alby just laughs, shakes her head, and sleepily says, "right, Monique."  I have a feeling she's being facetious.  I suppose I still have a lot of un-motivated jackasses (not saying that that's all you were to me, but in this moment that's how it seems) to go through in life. eff. and here I thought I already had my share. oh good gawd and to think that I've got a date with a tattoo artist later this week. but really, double eff.  I can see the truth of it all now. can I say triple eff? yup. triple eff! Next time I'll be sure to take off the Kevlar and make do and mend.  Inspired, I made a playlist before I doze off on the couch.  It's entitled "The Shit We Call Love":

0. "I Am Always the One Who Calls" Pedro the Lion 
1. "Blankest Year" Nada Surf
2. "What If" ColdPlay
3. "Roulette" System of a Down
4. "Self Esteem" Offspring
5. "Let's Go To Bed" The Cure
6. "Oildale (Leave Me Alone)" Korn (don't judge...I needed an angry song and this is the one I came up with)
7. "Keep My Picture!" Horrorpops
8. "Honest Goodbye" Bad Religion
9. "The Film Did Not Go Round" Nada Surf
10. "Old Friend" Rancid
11. "What If I Knew" Dino Jr
12. "Listen to My Heart" The Ramones
13. "Starting Now" Ingrid Michaelson
14. "Either Way" Wilco

14 1/2. "Must Be Wrong" The Rentals

roller derby

roller derby: an American-invented contact spot and form of sports entertainment based on formation roller skating around an oval track, with points scored as two individual players (designated as "jammers") lap members of their opposing teams whilst both teams play offense and defense simultaneously, usually consisting of third-wave feminists; my new found love!

I went to a  roller derby bout yesterday. ate some onion rings, sipped from my rootbeer, yelled at a ref or two, and watched gals rip it up on skates. It was Ah-mazing. A gory-ious and glorious night. I took Alby.  We decided she'd steal the name "Alby B. Chyourass" if she were ever a derby girl. I have yet to craft a name, need to be drafted from wreck to a team first. oh man am I excited for my new skates to arrive. these ones will last more than a season. hopefully.  I have been patiently awaiting, like a kid before Christmas. oooh and I found these skate socks online :)

too bad I'm broke. woot.

industrious

industrious: diligent and hard-working.

I've been busy, putting my left foot in and shaking it industriously all about. Two jobs is tough stuff.  But so far I'm managing. It's the small things that get me trough.

There's a regular that comes into Albertson's, he usually buys a loto ticket on Wednesdays. I'm kicking myself for forgetting his name.  We started off on the wrong foot.  I was tired and he cracked a joke that I found offensive.  Who knew he'd become my favorite customer.  He works at Micron and likes to give me practical life advise.  It's people like him that make me think the world is worth wading through.  One morning we were chatting it up when I pushed the intercom button on accident and a good five minutes of our conversation was broadcast to all the store.  Eventually we noticed and I started cracking up when my supervisor tried to talk to me about "the incident".  I didn't get in trouble or anything, just told to be careful. What a good day!

There's another guy that comes in regularly.  He an older African American man with orange hair, seriously it's orange.  Think Dennis Rodman but 50 years older.  He oddly smells like waffles and maple syrup.  One day he came through my line to buy a bottle of face wash.  He asked me if I could read the instructions to him.  So I turned the bottle over and started reading, "lather face with two..."  He interrupted me and said it's better if I just explain it in my own words.  So then I walked him trough step by step how to wash his face. Just so he remembers he proceeded to recite the steps back to me, acting out the motions even.  He put his hands to his face and moved them round and round in tiny circles saying, "first I wet my face, right? Then I get a wet cloth...no scratch the wet cloth, I don't need that.  So I get my face wet then I later on the soap and I rinse!"  We did this three or four times until he was satisfied that he could remember the steps.  Best part is, after I rung him up and said "have a good day" he came back twenty minutes later and we did the whole thing over again!  This time I got creative and drew out a diagram on a note card for him.  He put it in his pocket and looked at me a bit sideways and confessed, "I'll probably miss place it."  I reassured him, "well, I'll be here if you do." 

I've got a confession of my own, when I'm bored I draw little punk rock cartoons in my notebook or on the back of recite paper...I'll scan those in for you later!

As for my internship, I get quite a bit done here and really feel productive.  But when there's a lull in work I like to write my initials in the dust on the tops of the archive shelves.  So far I'm up to about 63 shelves I still have about 110 to go.

emotional bandage

emotional bandage: my dear friend Rob's name for a tattoo

zzzzzzzzzt.
zzzzzzzzzt.
vvvvrrrrrr.
the needle digs deeper.
I am elated, in a trance of pain induced euphoria.
The closest I'll ever get to getting off.
zzzzzzt.
zzzzt.
vvvvvvrrrrrrve.
The tingle travels down my back, through my leg, and to my toes.
I wiggle them a bit and savor the flagrant shock.
I wouldn't say it hurts, but rather it fills, solders, and distracts.
it fills vindictive voids with ink, injected ink.
it solders the flapping painful edges of despair.
it distracts from the emotionless apathy long enough to convince me that I do indeed feel.
pain is like a drug, addictive and ironically sobering.
zzztttt.
vvvvvvverve.
zzzzzzzzzt.
the needle stops, wiped clean by a paper towel.
Gill asks me a question about NOFX.
I ungrip the pillow long enough to mumble an answer,
then go back to my white-knuckled bliss.
zzzzzzzt.
vvvverve.
zzzzzzzt.
my sucker has been staturated with salavia.
almost sucked down to nonexistance.
I crunch the last bit between my teeth and think to myself,
when's the time I can a get another tattoo?

above is my new tattoo btw! Trent canceled our date yet again...so I got a tattoo instead :)

let's just say...

let's just say, cleavage is good for holding things...like money and men's attention.

mantra

mantra: a sound, syllable, word, or group of words that are considered capable of "creating transformation." Their use and type varies according to the school and philosophy associated with the mantra.  Most common in Buddhist and Hindu traditions.

too often I stumble
so here instead is a mantra I mumble

I don't want this anymore,
sometimes things just fall apart,
shit fuck,
the weight is a gift,
a willow and not an oak,
don't call me cupcake if you call other girls that too,
this isn't worth the TUMS,
everyone's got to leave their love sometime,
I didn't die, I survived, that's good enough for now


rinse and repeat

eulogy

eulogy: classical Greek for "good words," a speech in praise of a person or thing, especially one recently deceased or retired, usually given at a funeral.

I went home this weekend for my grandmother's memorial service. It was a long weekend, but after reading the following eulogy, this weight I've been feeling lately lifted.

In memory of Joan "Joanne" Stacer:

As a granddaughter, you notice characteristics about your grandmother that others might overlook. To you all, my grandmother was "Joanne"; a supportive mother, a cordial neighbor, a compassionate friend, or even a dedicated community member. But to me, she was Grandma Jinx; a bounty hunter of bullies, an advocate for indulgence, a dame of determination, and a never-ending source of patience and motivation.To me, these characteristics were obvious, but then again not everyone was afforded the delight of following my grandmother around like her shadow for the majority of their childhood.  For this reason, I'm excited to elaborate on a few of my favorite memories...When I was about 6 and 1/2 years old, I convinced myself that a bully lived in my coat closet and if I opened the doors at night, the he'd come out and beat up all my stuffed animals.  So I began to sleep in my parents bed out of fear.  At first, it was only once every few weeks but eventually it escalated to every night and my parent's patience wore thin.  That's when I turned to my grandmother.  Not only did she let me sleep in her bed, but she also had the audacity and courage enough to enter my room late one night, open the closet doors, and sock-it to that bully, shooing him to a far away place where he couldn't ever harm one of my stuffed animals again.  After that, I started sleeping soundly in my own bed and I gained great insight into just how bold and strong my grandmother really was.  Around this same time in my life, one of my favorite things to do was go to the Discount Bread Store.  Now this doesn't seem like the most tantalizing way to entertain kids, but Grandma Jinx made it so.  At the end of every trip, she'd let my step-brothers and me pick out a treat.  From this small gesture, I learned that a little indulgence can go a long way and that my grandmother really knew how to enjoy and cherish the small things in life.  I'm not sure my step-brothers noticed this though, seeing that they inhaled their hostess cupcakes and coconut snowballs like vacuums.  Another favorite memory of mine wouldn't have existed if I hadn't gotten mono and missed nearly all of the 6th grade.  During my time stranded, sick on the couch, I was lucky enough to stay home and watch Murder She Wrote all day long with my Grandma Jinx.  I watched episode after episode of Jessica Fletcher solve murder mysteries.  I also watched, in admiration, my grandmother solve them first.  Her determination and persistence in this task was inspiring.  Some days she'd get so passionate that her TV tray would flip clean over and she'd boast with a little celebratory dance.  Above all, I noticed my grandmother was always my biggest cheerleader.  Whether it was a simple butterfly kiss or turning my light off after I fell asleep doing homework in high school, she was always there to motivate and support me. She loved me unconditionally and in celebration of the time I spent as her shadow and in honor of the woman I knew her to be, I hope now to do the same.  Who knows maybe I'll have a shadow of my own one day.  So thank you Grandma Jinx, I will miss all that you were to me

bobby pins

bobby pins: type of hairpin or clip, usually made of metal or plastic, used to hold hair in place. Typical bobby pins are plain and unobtrusively colored, but some are elaborately decorated or jeweled. In British English, they are known as a hair grip or kirby grip. The bobby pin became popular in the 1920s along side the vogue "bob".

bobby pins
my head spins
with each one you find
scurry to worry that
you don't walk the line
monstrosity's velocity
dizzy spell
just can't tell
the determinant my
effort's spent
curiosity bombards my brain
as I try never to call you vain
do me a favor and point your gun, shoot my heart with a bullet full of disdain
bang bang, my baby shot me down

let's just say...

let's just say...that sometimes when you work a double shift, you forget to bring socks for your work shoes :(

let's just say...

let's just say...it was a bad idea to go into Wal-Mart wearing my Albertson's Uniform (it too is blue). I got asked three times where to find something yesterday while I was waiting for my prescription. can't i just buy my drugs in peace people? worse part is when I got up to the check-out the cashier said, "oh hey you! you just get off?" as if he knew me. ha!