Tuesday, December 28, 2004

the power of green sugar sprinkles

"vegetarian spicy potato & nut terrine is not a factor for you. "

wowee! today, we received gifts from two out of three cookied neighbors: a cute snoopy thank-you card and yummy candle from carlos [from the aqua-trimmed house just south] and a bottle of red in a sparkly wine bag from the young couple two houses north. we were so pleasantly surprised!

sugar cookies also have a magical property of cancelling out experiences eating turnips and vegetarian fear factor rat-o-matic loaf. you can read more about it here. honest, mom: your outstanding cooking skills are no match for the evil that lurks inside the turnip. see, i tried making a proteinful veggie entree using a recipe in this british [should have been warning enough] vegetarian cookbook we received from some very good friends. my poor meat-eating family made a very brave show of gobbling it down with comments like, "interesting" and "actually pretty good" when, truthfully, it was cack. way, way worse than turnips.

Monday, December 27, 2004

you're a mean one, mrs. grinch...

with the imminent culmination of our second floor construction, two back-to-back competitions, and a birthday, i've had little time to share my black-hearted, mean-spirited observations with everyone. we didn't do a tree, christmas ornaments, cards, nothing, but i guess we never do. i don't even collect ornaments for a tree -- the thought of having another live, shedding thing in my house makes my stomach acid churn.

as we hurdled all the obstacles in our way toward reaching that christmas spirit, we did manage to bake yummy sugar cookies for our neighbors on both sides, my sisters, and my mom and step dad while making what proved to be a disappointing vegetarian mushroom and nut terrine for saturday. the day of baking was not without its grinchiness -- fantasy football is a foe of teamwork -- but we managed to present green-ribbon festooned tins to our friends and loved ones.

in one last great heaving wretch of holiday cheer, we donned our gay apparel [emphasis on gay]. we agreed to surprise my family rocking out the thrift-store christmas threads like we were totally serious, but i started cracking up as soon as i walked in the room. i'm a bad liar, you see.

be looking for this fine shot on our 2005 christmas card. oh man, we look hot.

happy holidays from the hesses!

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

racist pom squad = bigettes?

jazz hands!

so i get this call today from a woman in a southern illinois town who has just started a dance team and would like to try entering them in the hip hop category at one of my dance competitions. she was, on the whole, very unfamiliar with competition jargon, which i was happy to elucidate, but she still seemed apprehensive. i explained that, sans school-affiliation, she would need to enter our all star division. i cut her off at the pass by clarifying that "all star" doesn't equal "more advanced" -- all star is basically comprised of teams backed by private organizations like dance studios and gymnastic gyms instead of schools. even after all this thorough, patient explanation, she says, "oooh! all star! that sounds so scary!" that should have been my first indication of what was to come.

"well, there is an earlier event in belleville on january 9 that you might want to..." i started to offer, hoping she might come and at least watch this earlier event to see how a competition works.

"ooh," she murmured, "i bet they have a lot of rhythm over there. it's dark over there."

astounded, i politely offered, "i beg your pardon?"

"you know that area... they have a lot of dark skinned girls there, right? i bet they're real good at hip hop there." she explained.

unbeknownst to her, i choreograph for the team in belleville and have been for five years now. not that it's worth anything, but initial thought was that i hope i'm there to see the surprise register on her face when she sees twelve white jazzerinas take the floor. they aren't even hip-hoppy or "wiggerish" [hate that term] type girls either. probably their least strongest suit is hip hop.

aside from that, i was completely amazed that this woman actually said this racist statement... out loud! to me! on the phone! after telling me her name and school and everything! i'm guessing she assumed i was white, or at least certainly not black. i'm sure it never crossed her mind that i might be some other minority -- heavens no, not with such an anglo last name. maybe where she is, there aren't any other minorities. i can't believe that people think like this and have no qualms about saying it out loud to another person they don't even know.

what if they are all african american? that means they're automatically great at hip hop? that they'll be an unbeatable force against the legions of wide-eyed white pom pon girls because of course white girls can't move like that? they couldn't kick ass in high kick or lyrical? who thinks like this in 2004?!

i have black friends who are the most amazing jazz dancers regardless of where they grew up. i have known black dance instructors who have preferred to teach pom over hip hop because they're more comfortable with the style. scariest for this woman, i also know black girls with anglo names who have no racially distinguishing vocal traits. it could have been one of them on the phone instead of me, for all she knows. whoops-an-effing-daisy.

hope i don't get dooced for this.

Friday, December 10, 2004

men who vacuum don't suck

god bless you, james dyson, for showing you don't have to have your gonads duct taped to your posterior to pick up a fuggin' vacuum. unfortunately, the posh british accent may be perceived by those meat-'n'-'tater eatin' men as a bit fey. sad about that -- i root for you and your passion for a vacuum that doesn't lose suction nonetheless.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

going to the big starlight mint factory in the sky

my mom riding another horse named chinos

sad today. my mom is putting general, her horse, to sleep tomorrow [wednesday]. he has a degenerative ligament disease that has been getting worse and worse. she's a dressage rider and a jumper and hasn't been able to do any of that with him for a long time -- he's been just a really big, snuggly, peppermint candy-loving pet for a while, which has been fine. recently, she found him leaning against the side of the stall. his recent ultrasound didn't look good either.

i know that she's doing the right thing, but i'm just sad for her. i know what it's like to lose a pet -- my dearest siamese, oliver, suffocated from feline leukemia in my arms on my 29th birthday. it was the most excruciating pain to my heart. my scream rattled our little coach house.

i am so glad that my mom is listening to her intuition that tells her it's time to let him go peacefully. i squelched that voice that told me over and over as ollie stumbled breathlessly, drooling, refusing to eat, too, but my vet convinced me to ride it out. a painful mistake that meant a painful death -- still makes me cry when i think about it. my mom's really at peace with it now. she's had a long time to think about this decision, and even though it's better than waiting until he is in serious pain, i'm sure it will still be so hard.

anyway -- please think of my mom and general today.

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

about periods, daddy!

click here to watch

i love this video. i watched it completely slack-jawed. i challenge you to watch the whole ten and a half minutes. i was really surprised at how progressive it is, given that it's as old as it is. come to think of it, it's pretty progressive even for today. i can't imagine displaying a wad of gore to my young, apparently down syndrome sister like that, but what's pretty cool is that no one is horrified about anything. there's no embarrassment, no ick factor, no stigma -- it's like a makeup lesson. i think the use of "opening between the legs" instead of vagina is a little odd, given that virtually everything else on the film is what i perceive to be no-holds-barred, but i think it's fascinating to imagine how differently our perception of menstruation would be if every household were this candid.

i remember sitting in the bathroom in junior high on october 25, 1985 [my brain is a filing cabinet for useless data] and thinking the one really naughty thing i'd permit myself to say at that age when i was fuming mad -- 'god damn it!' -- as i wadded up my first makeshift, one-ply, industrial toilet paper annoyance. when my pretty fifth-grade teacher miss smiley told us about menstruation in sex ed class, i was devastated by what seemed like an unavoidable life-long prison sentence. as i swung open the stall door that day in eighth grade, i remember feeling the barred door of womanhood rattling shut behind me.

i'm trying to visualize sitting on the arm of the couch next to my dad. hearing my dad say with a slight greek accent, "that's right! you fold it, wrap it up, and put it in the nearest wastebasket!" would he twirl his purple mustache, gold lion medallion glinting against his post-fishing sunburned chest and smile his snaggle-tooth grin?

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

o.j. needed more o.j.

an obviously pre-orange-juice disposition Posted by Hello

when i was little(r), i remember reading in one of my snoopy encyclopedias that drinking orange juice each day prevents crabbiness. i was quite the insomniac [perhaps due to rampant in utero exposure to no doz, which also may explain my ten-year dependence on ephedra. just kidding... love you, momma!], so those books were my best friends for many years. to this day, i get really aggro without even eight ounces of o.j.

apparently, i need to keep drinking the sunny stuff. the antioxidants may help my brow's deepening furrow. fugly.

Monday, November 22, 2004

loving the right brained

there should be a book called 'how to live peacefully with your right-brained loved one' because i'd buy it. i'll affectionately call our challenging friends arbees.

for instance, what is the best way to cope with the arbee's inability to formulate sentences and thoughts in a concise, expedient manner. how do you keep yourself from screaming, 'spit it out already!' when they talk as slowly and circuitously as molasses running down the tennessee mountains in january? i find myself maniacally interjecting "uh-huh? yess?! and then?!" trying to bridge the valleys between words.

can there be a topic on grappling with your arbee's indecision? if we're ripping out home decorating ideas from the likes of dwell and west elm, then what in the love of kee-rist are you doing with that wretched pottery barn catalog? wasn't that in the recycling bin?!

how about when your arbee just plain can't focus on a task at hand. the seven dwarves were not arbees -- not a one. there's no whistling while you work. there's getting really pissed off at it, throwing pieces of it, hurting one's self while doing it, but no whistling.

i love my arbee boy. he's creative, hella talented, and very open minded. he likes to play and makes beverages shoot out of my nose from cracking up almost ritualistically. i'd never trade him for the boring, methodical, predictable elbee... but, man alive. someone oughta get writing already.

Thursday, November 18, 2004

what i love

this is the cover of the blue six album.  it defines perfection: living in a sweet, modern pad, checking out the nightlife below after someone gave your dope body a good shagging.

following jamie's lead, here are some things i love:

  • ...when people let me fall asleep on the couch watching tv. i don't understand the culture that dictates i should be mocked and shamed awake and into my bed. lemme just peacefully fall asleep here, at least until everyone has toddled off to bed and the house has matched my level of quietude.
  • ...sour fruit with cheese, caramel or chocolate. i can eat slices of granny smith and sharp cheddar for lunch and be totally satisfied. if i was mayor mccheese, i'd make that a happy meal. in maccy d's defense, they do have one uniquely edible item there -- apple dippers! fresh apple slices and a small cup of caramel. deeee-aum.
  • ...wide-leg wool flannel trousers. dressy looking but as comfy as pajamas. they make your tush look cute but hide thighs. if my sewing machine worked better [blast you, bobbin tension], i'd make a pair myself.
  • ...snuggling with cats. the little people like to spoon with us big people and it's the best. i always marvel a bit at the love, comfort, and connection that can be shared between a person and an animal.
  • ...good chillout tunes. mellow, relaxing, four-on-the-floor beats with a little brazillian flavor -- the likes of which can be heard by blue six, miguel migs, and ben watt's buzzin' fly -- always get me in a happy, mellow mood.
  • ...a good head-raking. since casey plays guitar, he has long nails on at least one hand and very strong fingers. i put my head on his stomach and beg for a head-raking on sunday afternoons.
  • ...mrs. meyer's all purpose cleaner in lemon verbena. it's got that aveda-y smell to mask eau de cat poo.
  • vegetarian restaurants... i get this overwhelmingly orgasmic wave of extreme glee eating at places like green zebra and chicago diner. it's like a dream come true to go somewhere and choose things based on what you feel like eating as opposed to what doesn't have dead animals in it. think about it: always having to be the one to ask for the such-and-such without the chorizo and is that cooked in chicken stock and does or doesn't that have meat in it, you feel yourself becoming a loathsome pain in the ass.
  • ...aruba. aruba is dope.

    what do you love?

Saturday, November 13, 2004

good answer, good answer...

"what you do when you see your ex-wife at a party: 'hide in the corner and pout'... survey says?!"

i would be remiss if i failed to mention a momentous occurrence: after 12 years of out-and-out ugly-ass hateration, my parents actually conducted themselves in a genteel, polite, civil manner at my little sister's 30th birthday party at moretti's in edison park.

alas, we did actually dupe my father and his wife into coming -- we neglected to mention to them that my mother and her husband would be there. whoops-a-daisy! my mom and jack arrived and chatted everyone up drinking delicious wheat beer when tomás [not his real name -- just what we call him] and judy [a mid 40's version of jessica simpson] entered the private room. we stood with my mom by the bar on the other side of the room, discussing these felt-and-rhinestone poppy pins i make, when her eyes locked on the newest party guests.

have you ever been with a friend at a bar and they either see someone they have a massive crush on someone they dated for a long time? you know how they get all amped up? i could almost see the adrenaline rush -- her pupils dilated, face blanched, hands white-knuckling the pint glass. in that split second, i realized that no one really ever grows out of that. miraculously, my mother fought off the urgent fight-or-flight mechanism, beamed her biggest big-toothed grin, and promptly slugged down the remaining oktoberfest brew. casey [our family's newest quasi-therapist] went to the bar to refresh her refreshment in a show of support.

the night went well, far better than we all anticipated. you see, the last time i remember my parents at the same social gathering, we were at webster wine bar for our couple's shower. my father entered the gathering and promptly stationed himself in the corner closest to the door for fear of interacting with my mom. this made introducing him [who, at this point, had already put his foot down that he would not pay or participate in our wedding] to my in-laws-to-be all the more awkward because he refused to break the invisible force-field that kept him tethered there.

jack, my stepdad, talked with my dad [read "listened to my dad talk at him"] for an ungodly amount of time about fishing, and judy [never a discriminating chatter] talked everyone to pieces about anything. my mom and dad discussed a sundry of notables pertaining to the health of former and current brothers- and sisters-in-law. my mother primly folded her arms praying-mantis style and gripped her wrists in her trademark fashion and for one day, my sisters and i got to reminisce of days when my parents were married, still didn't like each other, but held closed the now-present yawning chasm that makes holidays and special events so trying for us. i don't blame them for the way they feel [hell, i begged them to split up]; i only know that seeing them try very hard to move on in some capacity that one night gave us three a wonderful feeling of hope and peace.

Thursday, November 11, 2004

cat poo = mat glue

i really can't wait for this construction to be over.

for those of you out there with pets, i'm sure you'll heartily agree that having animals living in your house comes with a price. having a pet means accepting ugly pet furniture into your design scheme, tripping over chew toys, and having your polish cleaning lady repeatedly tell you with great emphasis, "you hyev lot, lot, lot of cyet hyer!" living with companion animals also means contending with poop.

when not under construction, our four litter boxes reside under our stairs on our enclosed porch. it's a great location for them because you can't smell them in the rest of the house and you're not constantly dealing with errant litter pellets everywhere, only when you walk in or out of the back door. the problem with not being able to smell them is that you may forget to change them from time to time. i used to have a schedule for what days were changing days, but with both of us constantly traveling, adherance to the schedule can be slipshod -- the right-brained don't snap to grid very well. as a gentle reminder to us, jackson [also known by a multitude of other names] will leave his signature calling card -- a turd or two -- on the rubber mat placed at the back door entrance. we don't get mad. we know it's our fault, so we just kinda go, "ah, you got us. sorry, man. we're so busted."

now that the back stairs are closed off to the cats and we're down to two litter boxes in the living room, regimen has a whole new meaning. anyone entering the house is greeted by a palpable wall of stench and a light dusting of paper gravel underfoot if the litter isn't freshened with great frequency. after changing the boxes last night with fresh feline pine, i noted that the smell didn't go away entirely.

i was just about to figuratively pat us on our proverbial backs for keeping up with the steady production of noxious waste from our three cats when, after returning home from a run to my corner dunkin donuts, i notice my crate & barrel entry rug is stuck to the floor. i peel up the carpet to see a great mashed blob of extremely concentrated, raw cat shit. apparently, fatty b had followed his standard protocol, this time depositing it under my lovely tapestry, and someone had stepped on it.

i think i'll try toilet training them again this year once my effin' house is done.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

if you are or know and love a woman or girl...

i received this email from a friend of mine and wanted to pass it along. i have read about this guy before. because of this man, women today in 2004 are being denied birth control pills. wtf! i've read that they're told to go home and pray their cramps away. this really scares me.

Dear Friends,

Even if you don't share my personal and political beliefs, please take a moment to consider the situation laid out in the following text:

President Bush has announced his intention to appoint Dr. W. David Hager to head up the Food and Drug Administration's (FDA) Reproductive Health Drugs Advisory Committee. This committee has not met for more than two years, during which time its charter lapsed. As a result, the Bush Administration is tasked with filling all eleven positions with new members. This position does not require Congressional approval. The FDA's Reproductive Health Drugs Advisory Committee makes crucial decisions on matters relating to drugs used in the practice of obstetrics, gynecology and related specialties, including hormone therapy, contraception, treatment for infertility, and medical alternatives to surgical procedures for sterilization and pregnancy termination.

Dr. Hager is the author of "As Jesus Cared for Women: Restoring Women Then and Now." The book blends biblical accounts of Christ healing women with case studies from Hager's practice. His views of health care are far outside the mainstream for reproductive technology and modern gynecological practice. Dr. Hager is a practicing OB/GYN who describes himself as "pro-life" and refuses to prescribe contraceptives to unmarried women. In the book Dr. Hager wrote with his wife, entitled "Stress and the Woman's Body," he suggests that women who suffer from premenstrual syndrome should seek help from reading the bible and praying.

As an editor and contributing author of "The Reproduction Revolution: A Christian Appraisal of Sexuality Reproductive Technologies and the Family," Dr. Hager appears to have endorsed the medically inaccurate assertion that the common birth control pill is an abortifacient (causes abortion). We are concerned that Dr. Hager's strong religious beliefs may color his assessment of technologies that are necessary to protect women's lives or to preserve and promote women's health. Dr. Hager's track record of using religious beliefs to guide his medical decision-making makes him a dangerous and inappropriate candidate to serve as chair of this committee. Critical drug public policy and research must not be held hostage by anti-abortion politics.

Members of this important panel should be appointed on the basis of science and medicine, rather than politics and religion. American women deserve no less.

There is something you can do. Below is a letter to be sent to the White House, opposing the placement of Hager. Please copy all the text of this message and paste it into a fresh email; then sign your name below and SEND THIS TO EVERY PERSON YOU KNOW WHO IS CONCERNED ABOUT WOMEN'S RIGHTS.

Every 100th person, please forward e-mail to president@whitehouse.gov

I oppose the appointment of Dr. W. David Hager to the FDA Reproductive
Health Drugs Advisory Committee. Mixing religion and medicine is
unacceptable in a policy-making position. Using the FDA to promote a
political agenda is inappropriate and seriously threatens women's health.
Members of this important panel should be appointed on the basis of science
and medicine, rather than politics and religion. American women deserve no

1. Carl Burns, New York City
2. Paul Amaru, NY, NY
3. Marion Vrusho, Stamford, CT
4. Enid Norris, Stamford, CT
5. Joyce Wolf, Stamford, CT
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7. Susan Ellis, Old Greenwich, CT
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9. Janet M Joseph, West Chester, PA,
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84. Jan D'Amore, Medford, MA
85. Lana Z Caplan, Boston, MA
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88. Raquel Pelzel, Brooklyn, NY
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90. Deborah Slade, CT
91. Marguerite Strolle Salvatore, MD
92. Valerie A. Asher MD, Bethesda, MD
93. Joanna Alexander Seattle, WA
94. Maria Falgione, Lexington, SC
95. Jennifer Wood, Wellington, FL
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97. Paula Hess, Chicago, IL

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

yea for kate

neither one of these are kate

i love kate winslet. i admired her for outing the whole airbrushing sham that perpetuates the idea that all famous successful women are perfect-looking. i love that she laughed at her heavily altered cover photo, just made fun of how ludicrous it is [see above right]. i'm sure the dolts at gq were completely incredulous, wondering why she was upset -- they made her look better, right?

today, on good morning america, diane sawyer was seguing into commercial and kate was her next guest. the camera pans to kate, sitting in the green room waiting to be interviewed about her new film. you hear diane's voice say, "she's lost a lot of weight, and she did it with this chinese face diet..." kate grins sheepishly. i sat there gagging on diane's tactless words. there's nothing worse when someone says something like: "gee, what did you lose? fifteen, twenty pounds? thirty? you lost a lot of weight!"

"how out of character for kate winslet to be extolling the virtue of a weight loss method," i thought. "oh brother, she's sold out."

when the commercial ends, diane interviews her and all they discuss is the movie. the end. yea! we may be naive, but we think she refused to discuss it on the air. she just won some cool points with me.

Thursday, November 04, 2004

overly punctual punctualization

"be happy! whee! being female is so kEwL!"

...or maybe just chalk it all up to newly non-regulated hormonal fluctuations.

i endeavor to think positively about being a chemical-free woman, but i have been on the verge of tears for about 16 hours now, my abdomen is buzzing with electric current, and my mind feels like a drawer of dull kitchen utensils. i now remember the impetus behind my starting to take those pills in the first place [no, not the obvious intended purpose]. it's only been 24 days and i wake up with khartoum's head in my husband's favorite sheets. surprise!

all the cute kitty-cat printed mini pads in the world won't make me feel less than miserable right now.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

bass ackwards... with a beauty focus!

i'm not going to go on and on here about how disillusioned i am at the result of the election -- my thoughts are written far more poignantly on the other blogs [check out my list of sites on the right]. today was an aggro day for me, punctuated by an annoying sinus headache.

no, god doesn't smile on your liberal feminist friend today.

john kerry's e-mail written to his supporters made me want to clutch his oh-so-metro barn jacket and weep.

how do i sit shiv'a? buy myself a plentitude of beauty products, of course!
time to trudge along... looking well-moisturized and depilated like all good hetero, christ-loving, choiceless gals should!

    Tuesday, November 02, 2004

    stop the insanity!

    susan, where are you when we need you?

    i am really relieved that today is election day. i am so completely over the election, i just want it to be over. please let it be over already. to me, this debate has gotten to feel very much like being in the marshall's on fullerton on a busy, balmy afternoon, trying on wool sweaters: my god, just get this thing off already! i'm gagging, sweating, and panicking. i can't wait to talk about and read about other things.

    get out there and vote to we can finally get this one-size-too-small, itchy shetland of an electoral race over with!

    Wednesday, October 27, 2004

    harbinger of... four more years?!

    nothing more dope that drinking a beer on an october evening, watching the lunar eclipse, and jamming out to a little milk and cereal on continuous loop.
    i hope the construction wraps up soon -- the cats are kicking the shit out of each other for want of some personal space.

    Tuesday, October 26, 2004

    the secret is they have XY chromosomes

    come on, now. you really think i exist in nature?

    i... am.. so... hungry.

    has anyone gotten the new victoria's secret christmas catalog? i just don't get it. the women pictured in the entire lingerie section [especially the first few pages] don't even look like women. well, except for the extremely enhanced breasts that just look stupid on such a freakishly secondary sex characteristic-free body. it just makes me angry. i mean, with the exception of tyra banks [and even she's airbrushed all over the place] the women look miserably thin. poor 34 year old naomi campbell [still in fantastic shape, the old bird] has been relegated to modeling drapey gowns. wtf! if it weren't for the fact that i purchase my cotton triangle training bras from vs, i'd cancel my subscription. even casey laughed when he saw the photos.

    p.s. don't forget to order your pearl strand thong. nothing like a plastic necklace embedded in your biscuit! mmmm...

    Monday, October 25, 2004

    eXtReMe MaKeOver, eat your heart out.

    so we're ripping up the second floor of our house, right? it's a big dirty mess of cigarette butts, plaster, insulation, and plywood which is slowly but surely transforming into a discernable floor pattern. there are now square holes that leave a dangerous chute from the second floor to the basement. oh, and don't forget the nails everywhere! i am trying to post pictures, but i can't figure out the software so suffice to say it's a dirty mess, but i can't wait to show you a before and after.

    well, at 4am, the ceiling starts pissing into the kitchen, right outside our guestroom [presently our bedroom and, lucky me, my office, too!]. kEwL! it's just pouring this nasty brown broth right where the wall and the ceiling meet and all over the floor. the hvac guys are putting actual forced air upstairs, so they disconnected and drained the radiators, but never capped them, so some kind of mystery-soup was issuing forth from the bowels of the ancient boiler. rAdiKaL, dUdE!

    to add insult to injury, jackson [the fat man] is walking around the kitchen with one of his favorite stuffed catnip toys in his mouth and loudly crying this muffled cry at the same time in an alarm-like fashion. aWsUm! so i'm feigning sleep, but his panicking at the fountain of rust sounds vaguely reminiscent of the cartoons with the fat lady in the burning building, screaming, "my baby! save my baby!"

    having disjointed sleep patterns is so mAjoR!

    Thursday, October 21, 2004

    oops! i did it again...

    not a girl, not yet out of the evil clutches of puberty

    hope you enjoyed "love your body day." i baked raisin branana muffins [not a typo], and ate a crisp green granny smith dipped in whole foods caramel dipping sauce to celebrate.

    on the topic of loving your body, not sure if i should, but i have to say i feel a twinge of pity for britney spears. go to google and type "britney no makeup" and see all the sites devoted to photos of her looking like us or even worse at times. check out this one for the meanest comparison shots. the close-up photos showing glaring acne are the ones that make me the saddest. having bad skin really sucks and can happen to anyone. what's the big deal?!

    hate to say it because she makes my nerves raw with annoyance, but you know who looks damned good? star jones. she is really looking good. i gotta hand it to her... reluctantly.

    no one looks better than oprah now. she looks amazing.

    Tuesday, October 19, 2004

    back in the loop

    [yawn] time to catch up on non-returning customer reports!

    man alive! i had jury duty last week from tuesday to thursday and my house has been annihilated, so i'm trying to figure out which end is up. i have so many tedious end-of-the-year tasks to get a move on! all i can conjure up is a smattering of observations:

    1) i have no faith in the jury system. people just come to a verdict because they want to get home and smoke a j. it's wrong.

    2) wanna feel like a freak of nature? go try clothes on at urban outfitters. what did i learn? my size 2-4 frame has a size 9-11 ass. apparently, i'm a misshapen centaur.

    3) h&m is good. i don't care if people poo-poo the brand and say they're the ikea of clothing. it's cute, cheap, and doesn't discriminate against centaurs. i'm for it!

    4) old men who work in bathroom fixtures stores will only address your husband. even after repeated attempts to show them that you too are a cognizent adult and not a drooling dependant by answering his questions, you will not be acknowledged. it's maddening. i'm invisible and a centaur, i guess.

    5) the fact that you can't show a nice little boob or say a naughty word on tv but you can show someone gagging and projectile-vomiting after drinking 25 two-ounce shots of blended maggots, stink beetles, superworms and rotten fisheyes means there is something wrong with america.

    Monday, October 11, 2004

    we're finally doing it

    i gotta lay off the self-tanner, huh?

    ugh. we've moved everything from the second floor to the first floor to get ready for the second floor renovation. it looks like a rummage sale up in here: milk crates of brochures and giveaways everywhere, litterboxes in every corner, and my office... in the room where we sleep. whee! yea for work permeating every facet of my life!

    i wonder then if it's a blessing or a curse that i have jury duty tomorrow. [sigh]

    Friday, October 08, 2004

    drunk girl = republican?

    to get you in the halloween spirit

    i really don't talk about politics on my own blog -- i usually just comment on political posts -- but i have to say... wow... i'm definitely a little surprised at the college girls with the anti-kerry, extreme right-wing comments on their aol im profiles. i have a rather lengthy list of my instructors, former instructors, and coaches on my buddylist, and from time to time, i'll peruse their profiles. i'm honestly suprised.

    when i think of the people most likely to vote democrat, i think young females: they're dodging pregnancy and are, probably more than those out of college, surrounded by great diversity, not only of ethnicity, but of sexual preference. they like lots of emo music, sung by sensitive dudes wearing "feminist" t-shirts.

    or maybe, when you're in college, you still espouse your parents' views. after all, they're footing the bill at party u, right? at least they have an opinion, right? i was like, "omigod, wha-eet?" when bushie-daddy was elected -- i was too busy worrying about finding a decent hairstylist in iowa city to fix my roots!

    Wednesday, October 06, 2004

    my full moon ≠ the half moon

    to dream... the impossible dream...

    i did my yoga dvd today. i can't do the half-moon pose. it's almost comical: i try to prop myself up and fall over, wobbling and cussing. i read that it strengthens the abdomen, ankles, thighs, and buttocks, and it also improves digestion. no wonder i suck at this one. aint yoga brilliant?

    Tuesday, October 05, 2004

    springtime is so far away

    this is my life for the next six months

    tired. special event choreography session was this weekend and now, i'm just tired. my joints hurt, especially my knees and hips.

    i'm a little scared and depressed at how full my schedule has gotten -- once again, winter time will mean every weekend on the road until mid-march. i'm a more than a little disheartened. in a desperate attempt to cram in more freelance earnings, i actually almost scheduled a choreo session on the same weekend as casey's birthday. i blinked a few times, cleared the sleep from my eyes, and declared that i have no more open saturdays available to that endeavor this year.

    fortunately, i should be around some really fun people while i'm galavanting around the country.

    Wednesday, September 29, 2004

    björk is my hero

    isn't this the cutest picture ever?

    i love björk. her new cd medúlla as well as the dvd that shows the making of the cd, entitled the inner part of an animal or plant structure arrived in my mailbox. once again, i'm just smitten with her. she makes me so fascinated with iceland, i am going to plan a trip there.

    the entire cd is made with only human voices and it's unbelievable. she definitely marches to the beat of a different drummer [or beatboxer, in this case] -- every scene on the dvd depicts her in another bizarre dress that leaves you to wonder, "are you really comfortable in that?" her bra hangs out from time to time and you know she's utterly comf'. she also wears a ponytail on the front of her head like a unicorn... okay. during the interview sections, i fall in love with her astute analogies. even casey muttered approval at her theories about creating music.

    i find her irreverent appearance really refreshing. in a time when the artists go from blonde to blonder [britney's brunette stint was a self-proclaimed 'brain fart'] and are stringently styled and posed for every appearance, i loved seeing björk put on something that inspires her but at the same time, she doesn't really give a damn to check her eyeshadow because she's actually working. it makes her so appealing and real because i see that she's more like me as a person than any other artist will display themselves, yet her music unlike anything i can ever try to create.

    her foibles in love and her fierce protectiveness over her kids [she beat the daylights out of a reporter that tried to horn in on her son] endear her to me. apparently, it was an unabashed loss of control that wasn't pretty, but she had the unusual heart to send an apology to the guy afterward. i would love to sit with her over a bag of doritos and a coke and gossip all about what the hell happened.

    the photo above, taken probably seven years ago, gives me sharp pangs of unrequited motherhood. how adorable: a young mom and her adoring son!

    i know a lot of my friends are big criers like me, so if you want a really heart-wrenchingly sad movie, rent her flick dancer in the dark.

    Tuesday, September 28, 2004

    people who need to fire their publicists

    ty pennington

    you know, i actually did think he was kinda cute for a while until he became a friggin' cartoon character. he's so over-the-top, to use a standard hess expression. i am done with his self-deprecating routine, too. you got a website replete with "hott shots" and you were a j.crew model -- the "regular guy" routine isn't fooling anyone. he reminds me of so many cheerleader guys i know: they're just so cute, but my god... dumb. perfect example of how looks aren't everything, even really exceptional looks.

    byron the bachelor

    don't know too much about him, but i did catch a recent rose ceremony and was astounded to see so many young women weeping for him. cheeseball. take away the long, blond greasy locks and let that tan fade and you'll see he's just a regular old dude masquerading as young and yummy. nice try. i mean, doesn't anyone see how wrinkled his skin is? check out his bio.

    steven cojocaru

    ...and what the heck are you!? he's looks like janice from the muppets. i endeavor to be an open minded person, accepting all those on the gender spectrum, but dude, you sure are giving the transgendered a run for their money. hope he stays put on the today show with equally despicable [and muppet-like] katie couric and matt lauer. yuck.

    Monday, September 27, 2004

    of treehouses and peehouses

    no trespassing! keep out! this means you, cats!

    in preparation for gutting our second floor, we cleaned our garage and crawl space. cleaning a garage is not unlike building a fort when you were a kid: you staple gun the sagging cardboard back up, jerry-rig some hooks and shelving, and try to find cool places to put your cds. like you're gonna hang out there or something.

    cleaning the crawlspace which is actually connected to our house left us less than triumphant -- it was a cat urine soaked labyrinth of boxes filled with memorabilia from our respective pasts. great bouts of energy and progress were slowed by occasional reminiscing. i have three shallow varsity boxes full of high school dance team pictures, gorgeous costumes, and big puffy college photo albums full of those overpriced 4x6 sorority pics. i tried paring the pile down with minimal success.

    young readers: don't throw out those pictures of yourself because you look chubby, or you have bad hair. i can promise you that, one day, fifteen years later, you will look at yourself and marvel at your youth. you will covet the body you taunted, pinched, and scolded. i have photos of myself when i ran six miles a day that make me want to weep, but i love the freshman-fifteen shots even more. such a round, smooth face! my mom stopped me from tossing a photo of myself taken on the bullet train from tokyo to kyoto because i had no makeup on and i begrudgingly conceded. looking at it now, i'm glad i kept it!

    Friday, September 24, 2004

    re: questions for friends

    i got one of these from my friend/co-worker in alabama today. i never usually reply, but today's friday so here goes...

    1. First Name? paula

    2. Were you named after anyone? paula was a groovy 70's name, and i have a greek aunt/cousin/something named polixeni, which is greek for paula.

    3. Do you wish on stars? only shooting ones.

    4. Which finger is your favorite? i like my big thumbs. they're fun.

    5. When did you last cry? probably yesterday's oprah show. i cry daily watching oprah, but it's a little, weak, unsubstantial cry and not a good cleansing sob. i was sad to tears on sunday after the meetings, too... what's wrong with us?!

    6. Do you like your handwriting? no. i hate writing anything. for some reason, my hands don't want to write what my brain is telling it.

    7. What is your favorite lunch meat? [gagging] i wouldn't even eat lunchmeat when i wasn't a vegetarian.

    8. Any bad habits? i have a lot of bad habits, so i make up for them by being compulsive and annoyingly organized with other parts of my life.

    9. What is your most embarrassing CD on the shelf? hm... hall & oates greatest hits double cd set?

    10. If you were another person, would you be friends with you? maybe. i'm not always the most likable person.

    11. Are you a daredevil? i'm not afraid to try new things, but i'm no stunt girl. health insurance is expensive and i've already jacked my body doing too many toe-touches to double-nines to the splits.

    12. Have you ever told a secret you swore you wouldn't tell? probably.

    13. Do looks matter? only to an extent. there are so many people who are so damn sexy because their personality illuminates their "average" looks.

    14. Where is your second home? i hate to say it, but probably the hampton inn in memphis.

    15. Do you trust others easily? i really try to give people the benefit of the doubt, but in the end, i am the devil's notorious advocate.

    16. What was your favorite toy as a child? capscella was dope!

    17. What class in school do you think is totally useless? despite my lackluster grades, i really think that all the classes gave me a decent potpourri of random knowledge.

    18. Do you have a journal? http://phaneromania.blogspot.com

    19. Do you use sarcasm? occasionally, but i'm more the type that just says exactly what i'm thinking, shocking or not. sarcasm is for scorpios. foot-in-mouth disease is for sagittarii.

    20. Have you ever been in a mosh pit? i'm too little. i'd be squashed.

    21. What do you look for in a guy? similar beliefs and values, love for me even when i make "chick farts," love of reading lots of books in bed, uncanny ability to make me spit coke all over his car from laughing, and a nice wiener. just kidding: diet coke in my sinuses really burns.

    22. What are your nicknames? p, pp, peeps, peepers, pk

    23. Would you ever bungee-jump? negative, ghostrider. didn't we already cover that?

    24. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? nope.

    25. Do you think that you are strong? sometimes.

    26. Shoe size? 8

    27. How many wisdom teeth do you have? none.

    28. Who do you miss at this moment? i miss my siamese cat, oliver. he's in a porcelain urn on my bookshelf now.

    29. Do you want everyone you send this to to send it back? why not?

    30. What are you listening to right now? cars driving down my street.

    31. What's the last thing you ate? soy milk and cereal

    32. Who is the last person you talked to? jenna clifford on the phone about a one day college private camp.

    33. Do you like the person who sent this to you? yes -- one smart lady.

    34. How are you? i'm okay.

    35. Eye color? pale green

    36. Do you wear contacts? no.
    37. Siblings? 2 sisters and one step-sister.
    38. Favorite month? april. i'm traveling less and the weather is getting nice.
    39. Favorite food? chipotle black bean soft tacos.
    40. Last movie you watched? pornstar: the legend of ron jeremy
    41. Favorite day of the year? valentine's day/our anniversary
    42. Are you too shy to ask someone out? probably.
    44. Relationships or one night stands? relationships
    45. Who is most likely to respond? i have no idea. i'm surprised i responded.

    46. Who is least likely to respond? everybody is busy i know, so i'm not sure.

    47. What book are you reading? the pig who sang to the moon: the emotional world of farm animals

    48. Favorite decade? come on, now. the 80s.

    49. What's a good word/phrase you would use to describe the person who sent this to you? this woman isn't afraid to speak her mind to get what she wants. i admire her determination and think her dancers are lucky kids to have her.

    50. Last Movie seen at Theater? i can't remember -- i saw a lot of movies at camp with my staff. i miss doing that.

    Thursday, September 23, 2004

    ooooh, coooool...

    my favorite magazines have been devoting the last several pages of their mags to small advertisements for online stores that sell a lotta handmade things. i can't get enough. i love to open to the back and window shop for things i could buy people for christmas or their birthdays [er, or maybe they can get me some stuff from here].

    check out the custom, handmade jewelry and cool gewgaws. i love non-mall gifts like this. next time you're hanging at the barnes & noble, just open up the back of these magazines. go find a nice secluded corner so no one sees you gawking at the bright green rabbit-head vibrators.

    Wednesday, September 22, 2004

    bastard child of the poorboy sweater

    who decided this was a good look?

    oh, sure. on the polo model, it's passable. not on real people. i keep seeing these and i just don't get it. it's somehow worse than a sleeveless turtleneck. the sleeveless turtleneck seems more balanced and flattering, if not completely absurd.

    this is just ugly. to make matters worse, these always seem to have those too-long short sleeves. you know: the kind that give you tharms. this is right up there with those ridiculous dickey things. you know: those preposterous fake turtlenecks that mitch in the movie real genius wore.

    Monday, September 20, 2004

    "pop it like you're poppin' a cork"

    memphis was outstanding. we stayed in the hilton and not the hampton and i only shared a room with my close pal from nyc, jeannine [a.k.a.'jeannie']. many vodka martinis were had and much inappropriate, tasteless banter was exchanged. if i hear "all night (don't stop)" of janet's damita jo album, i might either break out into a sexy walk ["then look over your left shoulder..."] thanks to by-proxy instruction from one of miss jackson's dancers, brian friedman, or just commence vomiting. it's anyone's guess at this point.

    now, i'm back at my desk, feeling flat.

    Tuesday, September 14, 2004

    kauai photo album

    sorry i've no time to post -- i'll be in memphis until sunday -- but here's a little sump'n-sump'n to tide you over.

    oh: october 20 is love your body day so mark your calendars. after seeing some of my bathing suit shots [not pictured in the album], i know i'm trying to get in the holiday spirit. only a month away!

    Love Your Body

    Sunday, September 12, 2004

    beaches ≠ bitches

    all you ladies in the house say "ho!" [cue cricket chirping]

    how fun to be so mellow. we got up each day at 7, explored the island, and came back to bodyboard on brennecke's beach [above] in the afternoon. we'd be in the water for around four hours each day, surfing the waves, then we'd hop in the pool for about ten minutes, get showered to eat dinner, then go to bed between nine and ten each night. never a rush or panic or pressure. neither of us have gotten our landlegs back -- we still literally feel the ocean pulling us back and forth, which, when added to jetlag, can be a bit of a nuisance, but hey, it's a small price to pay.

    in the ocean with us each day were three or four plasticine ten-year old boys. completely unsupervised, they'd be out for hours on end flinging themselves into the drink from their boards over and over and laughing like maniacs. they were never sunburned, never waterlogged, and never needing a rest. casey and i decided they were made of rubber.

    there were usually two or three local guys carving up the waves before going to work at the pizza joint up in koloa town, and then three more thirty-something guys like casey, exchanging opinions with us on hotspots to visit before paddling out for the backwaves.

    i'd float along and wonder the same thing everyday: where are all the chicks? i would see them with their significant others out on tours, at puka dog, and out to dinner, but the ratio of guys to girls in the ocean was usually 4:1. there were a few teenage local girls that enjoyed the shorebreak a few times, and each day, one woman or another would venture into the surf to snorkel or just stand on the sand and splash water on her thighs for a second before reclining on her straw mat in the unbearable sun. occasionally, i'd see two young women standing on the big black lava rocks, pointing and shrieking at the sea turtles that swam harmlessly alongside us each day, but all the young female tourists i saw everywhere else were not equally represented at the beach.

    where does everyone go? what did i miss? what do you do on a tropical vacation? bueller?!

    Tuesday, August 31, 2004

    air travel for dummies: chapter 2

    "ooh my gahd, rita, we're ahn the wrawng bahs!"

    arriving home after a choreography weekend in the saint louis area, i exited your fave and mine, midway airport, to locate the blue economy lot shuttle bus. pulled up alongside the curb was a red lot bus as well as a yellow lot bus. i see three women wandering from bus to bus, sticking their heads inside each like bumblebees inside flowers. finally, they jump on the blue bus with me, and the driver heads off.

    there is one in overalls. she's got that fresh-scrubbed irish cuteness with curly black locks and freckles. she drawls in her nasal suburban accent, "heaw do you know whech latt es whech?"

    the bus driver politely asks, "ma'am?"

    i instinctually cover my mouth, sure that it's contorted in an annoyed sneer, and raise my brows to hide my frustrated, furrowing brow. as my friends and coworkers know, i'm a big non-verbal communication nerd.

    "ahm, es the blue latt covered en greeavel?" overalls asks, "because the lat wee wuhr en was, loik, awl greeaval eand construction."

    "you in the yellow lot. if it got gravel, you in the yellow lot. unless that's the construction you talking about," the bus driver offers, gesturing to the blue lot's chained-link fenced-in construction as we pass through the entrance.

    "noo. theats naht et," overall's middle-aged, redheaded companion sighs, "cean we gaht to the yollow laht from heere?" redhead reluctantly admits, "we ceant... romomber... weear we purked." the driver explains that he can't take them to the yellow lot with this bus.

    "thon what do we do?" overalls worries aloud. the driver calmly assuages their fears by explaining that he can take them back to the terminal so they can board the proper bus. the two weary travelers breathe a sigh of relief.

    completing the triptych of tumult, the short, stout black lady, primly dressed and toting lots of luggage, realizes that she, too, is on the wrong bus -- she's parked in the red lot. the bus driver generously offers to drop her off right between the blue and red lots, but she exclaims, "i'm not carryin' all this luggage ovah thurr!"

    i almost crush my lower mandible in my grip.

    Wednesday, August 25, 2004

    i stand corrected

    "Δεν καταλαβαίνω 'wahl
    beard and mustache trimmer.'
    τι είναι αυτό;"

    did you check out dimosthenis tampakos' pits? good god, man. it doesn't hurt to trim. i tried finding a picture to capture him in all his hirsute glory, but none exist per my google search.

    Tuesday, August 24, 2004

    chippy = drippy

    not chippy, but she looks like this
    my cat's cookie is broken... again.

    my little 10 year old tortie-point persian, chippy, is on her third bout with cystitis. after two visits to the vet and one to the animal emergency clinic, all within a span of one month, i come downstairs to find small red drops of urine on the leather couch [i know the leather couch isn't very veggie, but it's served me well in these instances.]

    i'm so frustrated. the last time, i had to lock her in my miniscule, dank bathroom for two days to keep her from trying to relieve herself all over every piece of furniture in sight. i've been diligently squirting various droppers-full of medicines into her wide, misshapen mouth. she literally screams when i do it. she doesn't really fight me, but she cries just like a little kid when she has to swallow it. i feel like a monster.

    it's not hard to feel bad for her in the first place. she's really small, her jaw doesn't really work well enough for her teeth to be formidable weapons [damn persian teeth], and she was declawed [so bad -- i know]. she knows she really doesn't have a chance in the world to defend herself, so when you pick her up, she just flops in your arms and blinks her gigantic pale blue eyes at you like, "oh no. what's going to happen now?"

    Monday, August 23, 2004

    tweeze to succeed

    while fending off a mild exertion-induced headache [working out again! yeah for pp!], i made a stunning observation: successful athletes are very well depilated.

    exhibit a - rex grossman, chicago bears

    i don't pay attention to football more than to laugh at the dreads vs. helmets phenomenon [witness one r.w. mcquarters] before sunday cataplexy sets in, but i did notice rex's unusual brows.

    my god, they're perfect. does he wax? tweeze? how is this possible in nature!?

    exhibit b - carly patterson, usa women's gymnastic team

    again, not one pesky stubble protruding from the widened expanse between her brows. now that she's hit the bigtime, she needs to see rex's girl. in the meantime, she can milk the "just say no to slumber party makeovers" poster-child gig.

    hot diggity!
    exhibit c - michael phelps, usa men's swimming team

    this man won so many medals that he stepped aside to let others get their piece of the action. what's his secret? hello! no chest hair, no armpit hair, and -- sorry to point this out to our more sensitive readers -- no treasure trail. he's keeping with the hip-hugger trend, all you corporate sponsors. he has sold his soul to nad [that poor girl -- didn't they tell her mom when they were marketing that product in america to consider maybe "nattie's" or something?]

    pluck away!

    Wednesday, August 18, 2004

    one of these things is not like the other

    say it with me, girls: are you kidding yourself?

    sorry, everyone. i have to say it: floor ex is just fliggin' weird.

    as a dancer, the olympic floor ex competition is just jaw-droppingly freakish. Here are people who are the epitome of control and balance, who can execute so many unbelievable feats, and... well, they just do so much that's so dad-gum ugly.

    the jutting thorax and hands that seem to hold invisible tea sandwiches permeate most of the women's [uh, girl's] gymnastic competition. in floor ex, we're treated to a wider variety of delightful technical displays, such as:

    • turns with no spot! wtf!? of course they're gonna fall down, bob.

    • bizarre music with no bearing on the actual choreography: heck, has the choreographer even heard the music? the movement doesn't even seem to have any noticeable relation to the weird-ass music at all. and to think these women pay top dollar for that drek -- i gotta raise my freelance choreo prices.

    • just effed-up dancing: why, lord, why?! yesterday, i saw someone assume the crab position, vigorously crab-walk backwards on 3 & 4, looking to each side with each step. lemme tell ya, it made an impact on me. oh, i see. you spot the crabwalk in gymnastics, not the turns. i get it now. silly me.

    Monday, August 16, 2004

    i'm just a little chubbier than usual now, that's all...

    a little rumor has found its way to new york city, seemingly by way of eden prairie, minnesota. the actual source of said rumor is unidentified.

    just to clarify:
    • not pregnant
    • not "trying"
    • still enjoying better living through chemistry.

    have a wonderful monday, knowing we are not bringing any areligious, vegetarian, right-brained, loud-mouth progeny into the world... yet. [mwah-ha-ha!]

    Friday, August 13, 2004

    Wednesday, August 11, 2004

    the dumb days of summer

    ...but your name showed up on the screen! aargh! brains!

    ah, august... august is the time of year all the stupid people come out of the woodwork to annoy me. i would say it has something to do with the dog days of summer, but it's been unseasonably cold this month and i don't see the stream of stupidity letting up anytime soon.

    what do i mean? here's what i've gotten this week alone:

    a large number of calls from people wanting uniforms who used a rep search feature on our website. next to each listing, it clearly lists each person's services -- "uniforms" isn't listed next to mine, but it is listed next to the area's apparel rep name. call me an insensitive bitch but i feel like, if you can read, you can clearly see i'm not the one to help you. what's weird is that my listing isn't even the first to pop up so it's not like they just didn't scroll down or let the page load. maybe it's just my magnetic personality that draws them to me, saying, "eenie, meenie, miney, mo... let's see: she sounds cute and bubbly. i'll call her." i guess my discomfort with the situation stems from my inability to tactfully inform the caller that they should really navigate their browser here instead.

    in my inbox, there is also a steaming e-mail from a coach whose brand-new team had a bad time at camp... in june. didn't contact me before because she didn't have access to e-mail until now. curiously, this is not a new coach. never mind the fact that i have a toll-free number or that the head instructors at the camp would have gleefully tried to investigate and eradicate the sources of her complaints at the time of the camp. no, let it stew and fester. then, call me about it. good thinking.

    or how about the rabid junior all-star parent sending me flaming e-mails asking for free poms and apparel because her kid's private camp ended early? never mind that the head coach made the executive decision to end the camp early and the staff simply did as they were told. to this woman, i've repeately raised my benevolent silver cross: "we respect the decision made by the head coach, and i will be pleased to investigate the matter further following a call or e-mail from her." nah -- useless. another e-mail of green pea-soup vomit appears in my inbox only moments later.

    what else... call from a clueless marketing manager of a chicago professional athletic team, wanting to know if we want to help them with a half-cooked dance team competition [read "ploy to sell tickets to game no one wants to see"] they plan on hosting the same weekend as two of our own local events [for which we'll already be scraping staff together to run]. okay, no on that then? then can we advertise their event [again, conflicting with two of our local events] on our website? oh, that's a conflict with events from which your company actually generates revenue? oh, okay. how about just a list of all our customers and their contact info? wtf!

    don't get me wrong: in some ways, i'm very fortunate to have the job i have, and i have come to know some amazing people in the twelve years i've been doing this. it just seems like august is like something out of return of the living dead: all the good, smart, normal people go into hiding underground, and all the mutants, starving for brains, are the only ones around.

    one coach who falls under the category of amazing always tells me, "you have the best job in the world." maybe it's because, when i'm feeling really down and worthless, all i need to do is pick up the ringing phone or open my e-mails. then, i realize, "gee, i'm not a complete dumbass after all!"

    Monday, August 09, 2004

    what's on my mp3 player

    when i had a buddy4u profile, i used to update this as i changed my tracks, but there's isn't really a place to do that [at least to my meager knowledge] so here's what i'm servin' up at the moment. must... get... to... YMCA.

    just a little more love [david guetta]
    bongoloid [basement jaxx]
    mymymy [armand van helden]
    don't go [yaz]
    noche de toxinas [kinky]
    rocket ride [felix da housecat]
    finest dream [kelis]
    satisfaction [benny benassi & the biz]
    carbon kid [alpinestars]
    freak like me [richard x]
    watching cars go by [felix da housecat]
    let me lead you [armand van helden]
    thong song [sisqo]

    Sunday, August 08, 2004

    family x

    there is a family on my father's side that is synonymous with drama: let's call them x. for years, many have jested that, as an x, life just aint worth living unless there's a family feud brewing. in recent years, my immediate family has been the prime target. i gather that much of the strife stems from a northside-southside battle. albeit one-sided, here's a little history on the situation:

    my father and mother picked up and moved my sisters and me to glenview when we were very small, leaving my dad's siblings and family who all lived in homewood, south holland, and posen. naturally, we kids didn't have any concept of the socioeconomic connotations of living in the north suburbs. if anything, we were the ones who felt disadvantaged: all my cousins lived blocks away and went to the same church and schools. when we did make the hourlong drive to see them, we noticed there were things different about us -- we looked different, talked different, and had different likes -- but we still couldn't wait for the next time we could pee our pants laughing with them. my family is really hilarious.

    family events weren't constant happiness; some of our differences were made more obvious by adults. we were greeted by random third cousin thea somethingendingwithoula in a stream of greek. when we sheeplishly let on that we didn't understand what she was saying, we'd be scolded and shamed for not knowing the language. since we didn't eat greek food at home, we were less willing to load our chinet plates up with steaming dolmades and murky mageritsza, and for that, we'd get yelled at. we figured that, as long as we steered clear of the adults, we'd have good times.

    eventually, we three became adolescents and young adults and systematically declined invitations to many southside family events in favor of horse shows, chances to perform at bowl game halftimes, and time spent with closer friends. as the time between gatherings we went to grew, the colder the x's became. a few years back, we were the only three cousins invited to nikki x's [we have four nikkis in the clan] wedding all on one invitation without guests. my sister's boyfriend of three years [now her husband] could not join her because, as nikki haughtily broke it down for my dad, we three are "aloof and antisocial." this was our punishment for not ever going to any family functions, she told my dad.

    i learned that tori x, the eldest cousin, poisoned her kids against us. her daughter, little miss janesandra x was a junior bridesmaid at another cousin's wedding [allegedly after much pressure from aunt x]. when i entered the church, janesandra was smilingly handing out programs, so i went up and said hi. what did i get? a cold, blank expression before she handed me a program and looked the other way. most recently, tori told my dad's wife, "those guys think they're so much better than us because they grew up on the north shore, but now, we have more money than the three of them combined." aahhh... bask in the glow of love.

    what's puzzling is that their disapproval of my sisters and me doesn't stop the x's from sending us a constant stream of invitations to pool parties, showers, and birthday galas, to each we politely extend our regrets. most recently, we were each sent an invitation to sour janesandra's eighth-grade luau/graduation party. my sisters and i always try and calculate the most auspicious time for getting voicemail to decline invitations because making smalltalk with these folks is excruciating. i think they'd really be surprised if we actually came to any of these parties. we'd just as soon prefer they'd stop inviting us.

    okay, so if you're reading this far, maybe you can help me out. the invitation to the pig roast [janesandra and her parents are large people -- what an unfortunate choice of theme] asks for a reply by august 10.

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    Friday, August 06, 2004

    go back to "mapother"

    tom, what the hell happened?!

    is it just me, or is tom cruise just so awkward and dorky now? he just gets on my nerves. was he always such a tool? i can't even watch him being interviewed without squirming and bellowing ad hominems at the television after his every comment.

    i notice he doesn't seem to have any appreciation for the tone or pace of a discussion. he's on the view with the ladies [also collectively annoying as hell] and they're yapping about light topics like paparazzi in their rapid-fire, chatty, vapid way, and he leans forward with the total chezzy, maverickesque face, completely jacks the flow and asks, "do you really want to know what i think?" the audience, just lapping this up, squeals. then, he busts out this, like, dad/cop type voice, "hey, hey, not with my kids. when i'm with my kids, come on, eh. because, you know... that's my family... and my family..." he mumbles on, losing steam, in this hushed, slow, serious tone, totally wrecking the momentum of the interview. he does this, at least two more times, beginning with, "do you really want to know?" after that, joy can't call anyone a "skinny bitch", dammit.

    i really started noticing what a wanker [wanker really fits] he was when i saw him on oprah. i can see that, in the presence of such a magnanimous woman, you naturally feel like you can and will do more in your life, but i swear, he short-circuited. he leans in and starts talking very vaguely but intensely about how he's going to make a difference in the world. yes, that's an admirable endeavor to pursue, and i'm not knocking it, but they way he was going on and on really came off like so much megalomaniacal blather. i guess you'll just have to see it, but i think even oprah was a little weirded out.

    on some tabloid show, i even saw jamie foxx imitating his weird, robotic laughter and i was like, "ah, relief. i'm not the only one that thinks he's a cheeseball."

    dude -- people are making fun of you. lighten up. maybe lose the "cruise" moniker and you'll feel less pressure to be so... cool, is it?