Hi. So, I'm ammogirl, and I was crazy enough to tell Miss D I'd cover for her while she off was getting her Burner wings. Crazy, because I can barely find enough interesting material to write about in my own damn blog, crazy because Indy, whose guest posts I have the honor of following, actually knows how to write well and with humor, crazy because I don't use Blogger myself, and I tend to have bad luck with things I'm not familiar with. If things look broken, I'm the dumbass who did it.
Regardless, here we are, you and I, so I suppose we should make a go of it, shouldn't we?
On with it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One of the things I am the most puzzled about in regards to my parents is the bizarre term they had for my girlie parts when I was growing up. Now, before I go on, I would like to point out that I am 36 years old, and my parents have never ever had a sex talk with me. Ever. This has resulted in a very strange backwards relationship between me and them in regards to sex and it's various euphemisms. They revel in my horrified blushes and blank stares, brought on by their references to 'making love' and whipped cream and power tools. "Dear," my dad says, "look! look at your daughter! she's blushing, har har har." Har har indeed. I want to chastise them for being so disgusting, but in doing so, I would be acknowledging the act of fornication to them, and this is something I will never be able to do.
Because! It's their fault! Which brings me back to my original story: The Term.
I was raised sort of weird. I couldn't say butt. I couldn't say fart. I couldn't even say the word 'poop', which I'm sure is the basis of one of my many phobias...but I digress--we are talking about girlie bits. Obviously, if 'poop' could not be used, saying the word 'privates' or 'peepee' or, even worse, 'vagina', was NOT ACCEPTABLE. But I couldn't just call it nothing, so something had to be done.
I like to imagine the day my mom came up with The Term. I sort of picture her at her desk, brow furrowed, puzzled over what inoffensive word could be used...muffin? no...taco? no...urine spigot? noooo...and then, her eyes wander over to a book laying by her hand, a gift for an expecting friend. Needing some distraction from such an intense task, she picks it up, and starts flipping through the pages of baby names, when all of a sudden, one LEAPS off the page at her. Yes! She says to herself, feeling triumphant. This is PERFECT! From henceforth, all female genitalia shall be known as...Nicky!
You guys. Come on. Can you think of anything that could cause more trauma and confusion and misconceptions to a small child of four than christening all vaginas as Nicky? Life was fine until I got to the freakin first grade, where to my absolute horror, I met not one, but two girls named, of course, Nicky.
Obviously, I assumed those girls had awful parents, because who names their kid after THAT? But then I started to slowly realize that it was MY parents who were awful, because who names their vagina after a KID?
Well, this is when I began to realize that my parents just were not down with letting me know anything about S-E-X. Life went on, and nothing changed. Middle school, Junior High, High School...still, no discussions. Perhaps they were hoping that by not talking about it, it would cease to exist, and Nicky would never want to hang out with the likes of say, Dick, or Peter. Who knows, but this silence continued on past graduation into marriage and my first child- whoops! And only then, after I myself was a mom, did they start wanting to talk sex with me. But at this point, um, I was having none of it. This all lead to their discovery in the not-so-distant past that they can embarrass me on demand, and the never-ending quest to do so.
Don't get me wrong--I'm no prude. I talk about sex. Just...not to my parents. Ever.
About ten years ago, my oldest sister got a cat. She named it Nicky. The sheer number of levels at which this is humorous is sublime.
The bottom line, you guys, if you have young kids, don't do this thing to them. To this day, when I hear the word Nicky, it makes me think vagina. And that is...just not right.
And here we are at last: the end. It is so much harder to post on someone else's blog than I could have ever dreamed. I'm just going to close my eyes, hit publish, and run.
Tschuss!!
~~ammogirl
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Hunt Theory
My theory/thought on what anon said here about the chase or the hunt...
The Gazelle
The herd of gazelle moves across the plain…sleek and graceful lines finding comfort in the strength of the herd, finding protection in their numbers, they move with a purpose but somewhere deep in their core they realize that their purpose is to be prey, to be run down, hounded, chased and finally caught. And yet with flight response primed they seek to flee, to evade, running, knowing that with each hunt they are left tired, more prone and more easily caught the next time…they run and yet they tire and in the tiring they desire for the hunt to end with their capture.
The Cheetah
The cheetah, muscled, focused wanting to run, to chase, to hunt and to sink himself into the choicest of the herd, eyes ahead his target is the juiciest meat of youth, the cleanest, most preened gazelle catches his eye and his hunger. His destiny is to hunt her; his strength is given for just that, a limited amount of power, will and effort to hunt. And yet even as he pads slowly towards her, stalking for the best position he knows that his energy has limits and to exhaust himself in the revel of the hunt will leave him blown, hungry, alone, and less able to pursue.
The Hyena
Is the scavenger of the field, he does not hunt alone, rather finding strength in his comrades, they move around the fringes nipping in to bite at the herd before retiring to run down the old, the infirm, or those still too young and naïve to avoid their teeth. But even for the hyena the prize is always the Gazelle, alone, tired and with little energy left from her flight from the Cheetah, she is eyed as a trophy worthy of the pack…or at least until the Cheetah has tired another.
And so the hunt begins.
Each plays their part.
If the Gazelle gives in too easily the Cheetah will feast quickly, and with energy reserves still full will cast glances at the herd and wonder after other quarry and imagine other hunts…he will grow restless as his energy demands to be used.
If the Gazelle runs too hard, flees to well, then the Cheetah will tire and not wishing to retire without catch will cast his eyes around for a less desirable but more easily catchable prey…his hunger needing to be satisfied he will with energy reserves almost exhausted strike at a lesser animal and settle into the meal it offers him.
If the Cheetah attacks well, he will chase the fleeing Gazelle, he will anticipate her turns and her attempts to wheel, and with calculated ruthlessness he will run her down, tiring her, exhausting her until with a stagger, he pounces. With reserves almost spent he will sink himself into the perfect meal and he will feast, with both hunter and prey complete in whom and what they are.
And yet, if the Cheetah starts his attack with a pounce, surprising the Gazelle, she will start, her flight response engaged, not realizing she desires to be caught she will flee, and with aggressive pursuit the Cheetah will chase, his breath hot on her flanks she will dig fleeing faster and with advantage lost the Cheetah will tire quickly, retiring from the hunt to choose another or to plan with fresh eyes a new attack.
Sometimes the Gazelle will flee the Cheetah, twisting and turning, her agile form dancing from his claws only to spot a more perfect feline with which to offer herself and she will lead the hunt before him hoping that he will join and pursue with vigor her tiring pursuer now lacks. This is a dangerous ploy since the Cheetah are wary of such flighty hinds and rather then exhaust themselves they will then merely pursue for fun, running her until she is tired, feasting on her as a temporary snack but still with energy for further hunts or instead giving up the chase just before she does to pursue a more honest and singular quarry.
The Hyena instead attack with laughter, with relish they fall upon the tired Gazelle, exhausted from her flight she is easy prey for the pack, who tear at her, twisting her one way then another as each rip into her, sharing her, seeking their fill from a meal not really theirs and that will not fill their hunger. And if with weary legs she manages to avoid the gnashing teeth of the pack she is still left lessened, scared and less able to fulfill her purpose of feeding the Cheetah whose eye she can no longer attract, and so will fall if not today, then tomorrow to another ravaging pack.
And so the hunt will end.
The Gazelle knows she is enough meal for one Cheetah.
The Cheetah knows the Gazelle will see him full and satiated.
The Hyenas know that they must share in their prize, so will discard her when used, to hunt for more, never finding enough to satisfy, in the shared meal.
Note: For those who wonder where is the Lion in this scenario? Well that's easy, in the wild the Lion does not hunt, rather his pride hunts for him, bringing him the choicest bounty so that he may feast, so that he may take his fill.
So the question is which one are you? Which one have you been? And perhaps more importantly which one do you want to be, and be seen to be?
- Henry "Indiana" Jones, The Dogs Name
The Gazelle
The herd of gazelle moves across the plain…sleek and graceful lines finding comfort in the strength of the herd, finding protection in their numbers, they move with a purpose but somewhere deep in their core they realize that their purpose is to be prey, to be run down, hounded, chased and finally caught. And yet with flight response primed they seek to flee, to evade, running, knowing that with each hunt they are left tired, more prone and more easily caught the next time…they run and yet they tire and in the tiring they desire for the hunt to end with their capture.
The Cheetah
The cheetah, muscled, focused wanting to run, to chase, to hunt and to sink himself into the choicest of the herd, eyes ahead his target is the juiciest meat of youth, the cleanest, most preened gazelle catches his eye and his hunger. His destiny is to hunt her; his strength is given for just that, a limited amount of power, will and effort to hunt. And yet even as he pads slowly towards her, stalking for the best position he knows that his energy has limits and to exhaust himself in the revel of the hunt will leave him blown, hungry, alone, and less able to pursue.
The Hyena
Is the scavenger of the field, he does not hunt alone, rather finding strength in his comrades, they move around the fringes nipping in to bite at the herd before retiring to run down the old, the infirm, or those still too young and naïve to avoid their teeth. But even for the hyena the prize is always the Gazelle, alone, tired and with little energy left from her flight from the Cheetah, she is eyed as a trophy worthy of the pack…or at least until the Cheetah has tired another.
And so the hunt begins.
Each plays their part.
If the Gazelle gives in too easily the Cheetah will feast quickly, and with energy reserves still full will cast glances at the herd and wonder after other quarry and imagine other hunts…he will grow restless as his energy demands to be used.
If the Gazelle runs too hard, flees to well, then the Cheetah will tire and not wishing to retire without catch will cast his eyes around for a less desirable but more easily catchable prey…his hunger needing to be satisfied he will with energy reserves almost exhausted strike at a lesser animal and settle into the meal it offers him.
If the Cheetah attacks well, he will chase the fleeing Gazelle, he will anticipate her turns and her attempts to wheel, and with calculated ruthlessness he will run her down, tiring her, exhausting her until with a stagger, he pounces. With reserves almost spent he will sink himself into the perfect meal and he will feast, with both hunter and prey complete in whom and what they are.
And yet, if the Cheetah starts his attack with a pounce, surprising the Gazelle, she will start, her flight response engaged, not realizing she desires to be caught she will flee, and with aggressive pursuit the Cheetah will chase, his breath hot on her flanks she will dig fleeing faster and with advantage lost the Cheetah will tire quickly, retiring from the hunt to choose another or to plan with fresh eyes a new attack.
Sometimes the Gazelle will flee the Cheetah, twisting and turning, her agile form dancing from his claws only to spot a more perfect feline with which to offer herself and she will lead the hunt before him hoping that he will join and pursue with vigor her tiring pursuer now lacks. This is a dangerous ploy since the Cheetah are wary of such flighty hinds and rather then exhaust themselves they will then merely pursue for fun, running her until she is tired, feasting on her as a temporary snack but still with energy for further hunts or instead giving up the chase just before she does to pursue a more honest and singular quarry.
The Hyena instead attack with laughter, with relish they fall upon the tired Gazelle, exhausted from her flight she is easy prey for the pack, who tear at her, twisting her one way then another as each rip into her, sharing her, seeking their fill from a meal not really theirs and that will not fill their hunger. And if with weary legs she manages to avoid the gnashing teeth of the pack she is still left lessened, scared and less able to fulfill her purpose of feeding the Cheetah whose eye she can no longer attract, and so will fall if not today, then tomorrow to another ravaging pack.
And so the hunt will end.
The Gazelle knows she is enough meal for one Cheetah.
The Cheetah knows the Gazelle will see him full and satiated.
The Hyenas know that they must share in their prize, so will discard her when used, to hunt for more, never finding enough to satisfy, in the shared meal.
Note: For those who wonder where is the Lion in this scenario? Well that's easy, in the wild the Lion does not hunt, rather his pride hunts for him, bringing him the choicest bounty so that he may feast, so that he may take his fill.
So the question is which one are you? Which one have you been? And perhaps more importantly which one do you want to be, and be seen to be?
- Henry "Indiana" Jones, The Dogs Name
Monday, August 27, 2007
10 Ways to not get a Second Date
So Miss D in a fit of possibly insane or alcohol inspired inspiration has asked me to guest blog for a few days, and since my content and writing style is totally different to hers, I hope I don't offend all of you...90% would do.
These 10 rules for not getting a second date have been culled from a small level of personal experience and from the collective wisdom of the Blokes form the Pub, so ladies if you don't ever want him to call, and you never want to see or hear from him again I present you with a list to assure just that.
1. Arrive Late: put simply an inability to be punctual is a sign of sloppiness, it suggests lack of genuine interest, and it is disrespectful and rude. All the adjectives you would use to describe a man who is late for a date can be likewise used to describe you if you are late...it is not endearing, whoever told you that lied to you. Worse it starts the date off on the wrong note since it screams "you are not important enough for me to drop what I was doing at get ready 15mins earlier so I could be on time", it tells us from the word go "you are not really into us".
2. Order for a Rabbit: You are not a stick thin waif existing on a lettuce leaf a day (well you might be) we have invited you for dinner, so do us the courtesy of eating something...if you said you eat anything and we take you to Morton's we don't expect you to be picking at the creamed spinach (which we agree is awesome) while we are the only one enjoying the grilled bovine. You don't have to shovel it in like a trash compactor but please order something, it really will impress us.
3. Chew Your Cud: You are not a bloody cow, learn to eat with your mouth shut. I know we are talking and I know a conversation involves you opening your mouth, but the words do not flow smoothly around the aforementioned chewed bovine while you are spraying me with creamed spinach...take smaller bites, its not a race, chew your food, swallow and then answer the question...want more time to eat, ask one back...it is after all called a conversation.
4. The Ex: Yes you have one, and yes I am sure he was a total bastard for whom you pray that there is a special place reserved in Hell...but FFS, do I have to know about it, him, and that bucks night in Vegas with a stripper name Candi. I promise to not tell you about mine, yes I have one too and I bet in the bitch stakes she can give your ex a run for his money...but seriously if I wanted to know about him I would be at the nearest bar drinking with him, instead I invited you out so I could find out about you. If you still need to talk about "the prick" maybe it would be better if you and your girl-friends all sat round with a pitcher of margarita and shared "man hating" stories until you are all drunk.
5. Get Shit Faced: A healthy appreciation and even enjoyment of alcoholic beverages is a must, since if you are teetotaler what are you doing out with us at a wine/martini/whisky bar...but trust me getting a little tipsy is endearing, and you might reveal something about yourself that would be fun to know. Having to carry your arse up a flight of steps and into a cab is not.
6. Wear the Wrong Shoes: You know how women judge men on their shoes, on the condition, the matching socks, the fresh buffed and cleaned leather...you know how a woman starts at a mans feet and lets her eyes wander up his body to finally take in his face and his eyes...well a man starts at your face drops very quickly to your feet and takes a lot longer to get back to your face than you do. And remember how you were judging his shoes, he is too. And "No" those bright pink espadrilles with the rhinestones on the toe are not cute, they never were and they simply never will be.
7. Multi task: You are not the leader of the free-world or even the oppressed world, there are not men standing around wearing shades and speaking into their wrists and the guy next to us is not carrying the "football" so turn your phone off. There is no message you can possibly receive that is so important that you need to answer it while you take 2 hours to dine. If there is, explain it to us at the beginning, if your dad really is that sick and in hospital we will understand or better yet suggest we get take out and go and eat it with him. (If we don't understand then what the f*ck are you wasting your time on us for in the first place, you deserve better)
8. Total Agreance: We are not the font of all knowledge and while we know some of our well reasoned opinions and theories are in fact logical, sound and have been tested by experience, we do not want you to agree with us blindly. Feel free to call us on our bullshit because we will call you on yours...as long as you do it tactfully, nicely and are able to support your counter thoughts, we will actually respect you more. (Again, if we don't then WTF are you doing dining with a Neanderthal like us?)
9. Wandering Eyes: We fully appreciate that you do not like it when we ogle the waitress, the same goes for you and the barman...yes we agree he does have big "guns" and we are sure that lots of chemical substances helped his pecs get just that way, but they also shrunk the bits you want to see, and besides he has a six-pack...you don't! Is that the kind of pressure you crave?
10. Cleavage: This is a difficult one since the line between leer and admire is as wide as the amount you like us. But if you dressed to show off your "assets" in an effort to impress us don't get upset with us when we look. We are men and if you put them, or your legs or your bum on display with your dressing, we will silently thank you and whatever god we believe in, and then look. It took you a long time to select the perfect outfit you were going to wear, you know the effect you were going for, so don't get upset when we look.
- Henry "Indiana" Jones, The Dogs Name
These 10 rules for not getting a second date have been culled from a small level of personal experience and from the collective wisdom of the Blokes form the Pub, so ladies if you don't ever want him to call, and you never want to see or hear from him again I present you with a list to assure just that.
1. Arrive Late: put simply an inability to be punctual is a sign of sloppiness, it suggests lack of genuine interest, and it is disrespectful and rude. All the adjectives you would use to describe a man who is late for a date can be likewise used to describe you if you are late...it is not endearing, whoever told you that lied to you. Worse it starts the date off on the wrong note since it screams "you are not important enough for me to drop what I was doing at get ready 15mins earlier so I could be on time", it tells us from the word go "you are not really into us".
2. Order for a Rabbit: You are not a stick thin waif existing on a lettuce leaf a day (well you might be) we have invited you for dinner, so do us the courtesy of eating something...if you said you eat anything and we take you to Morton's we don't expect you to be picking at the creamed spinach (which we agree is awesome) while we are the only one enjoying the grilled bovine. You don't have to shovel it in like a trash compactor but please order something, it really will impress us.
3. Chew Your Cud: You are not a bloody cow, learn to eat with your mouth shut. I know we are talking and I know a conversation involves you opening your mouth, but the words do not flow smoothly around the aforementioned chewed bovine while you are spraying me with creamed spinach...take smaller bites, its not a race, chew your food, swallow and then answer the question...want more time to eat, ask one back...it is after all called a conversation.
4. The Ex: Yes you have one, and yes I am sure he was a total bastard for whom you pray that there is a special place reserved in Hell...but FFS, do I have to know about it, him, and that bucks night in Vegas with a stripper name Candi. I promise to not tell you about mine, yes I have one too and I bet in the bitch stakes she can give your ex a run for his money...but seriously if I wanted to know about him I would be at the nearest bar drinking with him, instead I invited you out so I could find out about you. If you still need to talk about "the prick" maybe it would be better if you and your girl-friends all sat round with a pitcher of margarita and shared "man hating" stories until you are all drunk.
5. Get Shit Faced: A healthy appreciation and even enjoyment of alcoholic beverages is a must, since if you are teetotaler what are you doing out with us at a wine/martini/whisky bar...but trust me getting a little tipsy is endearing, and you might reveal something about yourself that would be fun to know. Having to carry your arse up a flight of steps and into a cab is not.
6. Wear the Wrong Shoes: You know how women judge men on their shoes, on the condition, the matching socks, the fresh buffed and cleaned leather...you know how a woman starts at a mans feet and lets her eyes wander up his body to finally take in his face and his eyes...well a man starts at your face drops very quickly to your feet and takes a lot longer to get back to your face than you do. And remember how you were judging his shoes, he is too. And "No" those bright pink espadrilles with the rhinestones on the toe are not cute, they never were and they simply never will be.
7. Multi task: You are not the leader of the free-world or even the oppressed world, there are not men standing around wearing shades and speaking into their wrists and the guy next to us is not carrying the "football" so turn your phone off. There is no message you can possibly receive that is so important that you need to answer it while you take 2 hours to dine. If there is, explain it to us at the beginning, if your dad really is that sick and in hospital we will understand or better yet suggest we get take out and go and eat it with him. (If we don't understand then what the f*ck are you wasting your time on us for in the first place, you deserve better)
8. Total Agreance: We are not the font of all knowledge and while we know some of our well reasoned opinions and theories are in fact logical, sound and have been tested by experience, we do not want you to agree with us blindly. Feel free to call us on our bullshit because we will call you on yours...as long as you do it tactfully, nicely and are able to support your counter thoughts, we will actually respect you more. (Again, if we don't then WTF are you doing dining with a Neanderthal like us?)
9. Wandering Eyes: We fully appreciate that you do not like it when we ogle the waitress, the same goes for you and the barman...yes we agree he does have big "guns" and we are sure that lots of chemical substances helped his pecs get just that way, but they also shrunk the bits you want to see, and besides he has a six-pack...you don't! Is that the kind of pressure you crave?
10. Cleavage: This is a difficult one since the line between leer and admire is as wide as the amount you like us. But if you dressed to show off your "assets" in an effort to impress us don't get upset with us when we look. We are men and if you put them, or your legs or your bum on display with your dressing, we will silently thank you and whatever god we believe in, and then look. It took you a long time to select the perfect outfit you were going to wear, you know the effect you were going for, so don't get upset when we look.
- Henry "Indiana" Jones, The Dogs Name
Friday, August 24, 2007
Shed Your Skin
The 11th hour is quickly approaching. The errands are just about finished, supplies acquired, and lists are dwindling. The pre-meeting/packing bash with the other two partners in crime is set for tomorrow afternoon at Mrs. Pixie's place, who's very antsy to get going, I can tell from the multiple calls we're making back and forth.
These boots were a magic little expenditure that I felt I absolutely needed, not to mention the pink kitten hoodie hat complete w/ pink fuzzy tassles. And no, I won't be wearing just those, thank you.. It's not surprising every boy I discuss this desert party with directs the conversation immediately to how I will suddenly tear off my clothes and dance naked and free among 40,000 other naked and free people. Hi.. have we met? I'm just not a naked type girl. Underwear, most likely.. but naked? Probably not. Well.. just in a few instances.. where it's necessary of course.. not that showering will be one of those.
God.. I will survive this, won't I? Yes yes.. I will. Seven days. In the desert. For realz, Treena.
Speaking of.. in my absense, as sad as it is to leave all of you for the disconnected land of the sizzling and dusty playa, I have secured a couple of very friendly, very talented, as well as very attractive writers to take my place. Indiana, from The Dog's Name, will supply a little titillation as he is one of the best examples of the male perspective in the world of he said/she said. An Aussie man's man, is my guess.. tho we've never met in Real Life, but we've struck up a very real friendship in this virtual world and I'm honored he's going to grace my pages with his gifts. Wait.. that came out wrong.
ANYWAY..
Treena is an old friend from high school, goes by the alias, Ammogirl, and is funny as all get out. To this day I don't know how we weren't closer in school since we grew up to be basically the same person, tho she has the oddest phobias of lint, lettuce, moths.. you get the gist. But again, total crack up and it's a privilege for me knowing she'll step in later next week to keep you all entertained.
So be good my pretties. I will have many many tales of adventure when I come back completely exhausted, smelly and greasy.. but smiling, I'm sure. Be good, but not too.. if you know what I mean.. and I'm sure you do.
Monday, August 20, 2007
My New Favorite Fairy Tale
I have always loved fairy tales.. always been the little girl who wanted the prince to come find her. I admit it. I was one of those girls who loved unicorns and wished for wishes and fairy godmothers - and the luminescent skin all the heroines seem to come with. I rather thought I'd grown out of that tho I still treasure my little girl hopes. I was totally brought back to the age of seven when I adored the idea I could grow up to be a princess and live in a magical kingdom when I saw Stardust tonight. This is my new favoritest movie ever. It has everything a fairy tale should have - wicked witches, dashing, tho evil, princes, unicorns, pirates.. and an awkward boy who seizes his moment - and the girl no less - all just in time to save the day. There were campy moments within a very witty script, which kept the story from being overly cheesy and reminded me of the wryness of Princess Bride at times. Of course, there were a couple of holes Boz and I noticed.. but we let them slide because in fantasy land, not everything makes sense. Plus, it was just charming as hell. Go see it. See it twice even. I'm putting it on my wish list when it comes out on dvd.. my birthday is right around the corner.. hint hint..
Thursday, August 16, 2007
A Call To Arms
In 10 days there will be a caravan of three girls, two blondes and a semi-red-headed brunette (who needs her hair dyed), amped up to the highest degree, headed to a makeshift tented city in the middle of the Nevada desert, which will consist of dust, a dried up alkaline lakebed, and about 40,000 other people from across the country for an entire week. And tho I will reveal more about this specific event later, whilst the three amigas are en route and consciously detaching from their interweb addiction and trying to prevent the forseeable and ugly withdrawel symptoms, yours truly is going to need a stand-in, a substitute, another perspective, if you will, to fill the empty blogspace, not to mention supply much needed entertainment to Yes, that's right. I'm soliciting your assistance. Your creativity. Your time. Your ability to use three dots for ellipses rather than my rogue (and honestly, incorrect) use of just two (Y'all think I don't know or something, but I do it on purpose. Oh I'm just the vigilante of grammer I tell you.. whatever that means.).
So, if you think you could be up for this daunting task, the criticism, the comments, the overwhelming responsibility of being well.. basically a better me than me, have your people call my people and we'll start making some magic, not to mention history. Aw yeah.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Further Observations.. What? It's Not Like Anyone Is Reading These. Are you? My 4 Readers??
I wasn't really done with the first one apparently.
* Target brand floss is no second runner up to the Crest Glide. I have to be honest. Really not the same league at all. So take my advice, don't be cheap when it comes to your teeth. Spend the extra 79 cents or whatever and just get the Glide. Your gums will thank you. And get the mint. It's yummy.
* Girls, the Philosophy big gorgeous eyes mascara is my new favorite bit of make up. Holy crap my lashes have never been so long. They leave a little schmutz on my sunglasses they're so long! The eyes are popping all day, I tell you. It's insanity.
* Philosophy also has this AMAZING smelling scent called 'falling in love', I know.. cheesy, but it really is fucking fantastic.. and that's how I smell when I lather on the lotion I got as a free gift when I spent a kajillion dollars getting the perfumed oil and the lotion for Fatima's birthday.. and it wasn't really a kajillion dollars.. because I maybe didn't get her anything for Christmas so I really needed to make up for being a complete loser, but still, after she got everything full sized, I knew she wouldn't mind if I kept the freebie stuff and smelled just as good as she would. Blackberry and vanilla.. seriously, go get some now. It's all kinds of awesome. People will run to make out with you. Ok.. if they don't, they certainly should. I mean, if they're cute and all.
* ALSO, since we're talking girl stuff - the M.A.C. Plushglass lipgloss is pheNOMenal. Also also.. it smells like cake. I'm not kidding. They all do. How great is that?! That was the clincher on the sale for me since that is the best ever four-letter word, people. CAKE. Do you HEAR me?! I got it in 'Wildly Lush' and I have been lushing wildly ever since.
* Gorgeous eyes, lush lips, smells good and general all around bad-assness? I mean, why the hell am I still single?! And, yes - this was an official observation. It's asterisked, isn't it?
* Speaking of being available.. I just saw The Bourne Ultimatum.. and I decided I'm saving myself forever for Matt Damon. Ok.. no, not really. He's happily married with baby, but there is some oh-so clever ass-kicking all over the damn place.. and a lot of really hot go-get-em moments and yet none of Matt taking off his shirt or anything, which would've been more disappointing had all the action not sucked me in - but it really did. Action over shirtless Matt? Ok.. I'll take it.. not every day, but this was well worth it.
* Getting a pedicure in the peak of summer is what toes were made for. My feet are so pretty right now they should have their own musical. Even if I have to wear sneakers due to this winter-like weather that has suddenly afflicted us here, which = lame, my toes = still rad.
* I never did get my wisdom teeth removed as a kid because you know why?? Because I had braces for four and a half years. YEARS PEOPLE. You know how long 4 1/2 years is to a kid??? Well, it was the latter half of 8th grade and ALL of high school. When I was getting ready to leave for Norway they were still on and I made a special trip to Mr. Dentist and said, 'Look.. I am NOT going overseas with these babies still on. I think my teeth are straight enough, don't you? Let's get them off oh, say now. Yes?' And he complied. So you'll understand that I've been thru the ringer when it comes to orthodonture. Headgear, many teeth pulled all at once with tears streaming down my adolescent face while four or five doctors looked on, too many appointments for x-rays, novacaine, gauze and numbed and sagging lips and chins. I mean, I HATE going to the dentist, but I've got these top two wisdom teeth that are giving me a hard time. Instead of pointing straight down, they point outwards towards my cheek and always poke at me, like they're pulling a Jackie Chan and trying to kick their way out of my mouth. But you guys.. I'm scared. Do I have to go? Because - and you'll be shocked about this - I haven't been to the dentist in 10 years. Yes, believe it. Is that bad? Before that, it was another 10. Aaaaand the rest of my teeth are so pretty that passers by comment on them all the time and no one believes I haven't seen a dentist in ages (this is because I floss - ("Only floss the ones you want to keep," the last smartypants dentist told me) and use white strips) so you'd think I'd be covered right? Right? Do I really have to go? Ugh.. don't tell me.
* Last but not least, there is a new and exciting development in the works planning for a crazy little trip in just a few weeks and you'd never believe it because it includes things like 1) dirt and 2) camping, which are only high on my list of Things That Annoy Me Or That I Don't Really Like Doing. But, I've been coerced and actually bribed, which still has me shocked, by a couple of lovely girlfriends/cohorts and if I get the time off that I requested, at the end of the month we will all be among the masses here in the Nevada desert. For a week. God help me.
Now, can someone find me a cute boy who is not moving from the area, who isn't crazy with metaphysical spirituality, doesn't lie, doesn't drink too much, doesn't smoke at all, isn't 'working on himself', isn't flakey, isn't scared of the word 'plan' or doing that more than three hours in advance, is uber cute, adorable, funny, smart, thinks I'm all that and a bag of chips, laughs WITH me at all my 80's clichés and digs my Rod Stewart hair in the morning? Like.. before I'm 36 would be lovely. Thanks.
* Target brand floss is no second runner up to the Crest Glide. I have to be honest. Really not the same league at all. So take my advice, don't be cheap when it comes to your teeth. Spend the extra 79 cents or whatever and just get the Glide. Your gums will thank you. And get the mint. It's yummy.
* Girls, the Philosophy big gorgeous eyes mascara is my new favorite bit of make up. Holy crap my lashes have never been so long. They leave a little schmutz on my sunglasses they're so long! The eyes are popping all day, I tell you. It's insanity.
* Philosophy also has this AMAZING smelling scent called 'falling in love', I know.. cheesy, but it really is fucking fantastic.. and that's how I smell when I lather on the lotion I got as a free gift when I spent a kajillion dollars getting the perfumed oil and the lotion for Fatima's birthday.. and it wasn't really a kajillion dollars.. because I maybe didn't get her anything for Christmas so I really needed to make up for being a complete loser, but still, after she got everything full sized, I knew she wouldn't mind if I kept the freebie stuff and smelled just as good as she would. Blackberry and vanilla.. seriously, go get some now. It's all kinds of awesome. People will run to make out with you. Ok.. if they don't, they certainly should. I mean, if they're cute and all.
* ALSO, since we're talking girl stuff - the M.A.C. Plushglass lipgloss is pheNOMenal. Also also.. it smells like cake. I'm not kidding. They all do. How great is that?! That was the clincher on the sale for me since that is the best ever four-letter word, people. CAKE. Do you HEAR me?! I got it in 'Wildly Lush' and I have been lushing wildly ever since.
* Gorgeous eyes, lush lips, smells good and general all around bad-assness? I mean, why the hell am I still single?! And, yes - this was an official observation. It's asterisked, isn't it?
* Speaking of being available.. I just saw The Bourne Ultimatum.. and I decided I'm saving myself forever for Matt Damon. Ok.. no, not really. He's happily married with baby, but there is some oh-so clever ass-kicking all over the damn place.. and a lot of really hot go-get-em moments and yet none of Matt taking off his shirt or anything, which would've been more disappointing had all the action not sucked me in - but it really did. Action over shirtless Matt? Ok.. I'll take it.. not every day, but this was well worth it.
* Getting a pedicure in the peak of summer is what toes were made for. My feet are so pretty right now they should have their own musical. Even if I have to wear sneakers due to this winter-like weather that has suddenly afflicted us here, which = lame, my toes = still rad.
* I never did get my wisdom teeth removed as a kid because you know why?? Because I had braces for four and a half years. YEARS PEOPLE. You know how long 4 1/2 years is to a kid??? Well, it was the latter half of 8th grade and ALL of high school. When I was getting ready to leave for Norway they were still on and I made a special trip to Mr. Dentist and said, 'Look.. I am NOT going overseas with these babies still on. I think my teeth are straight enough, don't you? Let's get them off oh, say now. Yes?' And he complied. So you'll understand that I've been thru the ringer when it comes to orthodonture. Headgear, many teeth pulled all at once with tears streaming down my adolescent face while four or five doctors looked on, too many appointments for x-rays, novacaine, gauze and numbed and sagging lips and chins. I mean, I HATE going to the dentist, but I've got these top two wisdom teeth that are giving me a hard time. Instead of pointing straight down, they point outwards towards my cheek and always poke at me, like they're pulling a Jackie Chan and trying to kick their way out of my mouth. But you guys.. I'm scared. Do I have to go? Because - and you'll be shocked about this - I haven't been to the dentist in 10 years. Yes, believe it. Is that bad? Before that, it was another 10. Aaaaand the rest of my teeth are so pretty that passers by comment on them all the time and no one believes I haven't seen a dentist in ages (this is because I floss - ("Only floss the ones you want to keep," the last smartypants dentist told me) and use white strips) so you'd think I'd be covered right? Right? Do I really have to go? Ugh.. don't tell me.
* Last but not least, there is a new and exciting development in the works planning for a crazy little trip in just a few weeks and you'd never believe it because it includes things like 1) dirt and 2) camping, which are only high on my list of Things That Annoy Me Or That I Don't Really Like Doing. But, I've been coerced and actually bribed, which still has me shocked, by a couple of lovely girlfriends/cohorts and if I get the time off that I requested, at the end of the month we will all be among the masses here in the Nevada desert. For a week. God help me.
Now, can someone find me a cute boy who is not moving from the area, who isn't crazy with metaphysical spirituality, doesn't lie, doesn't drink too much, doesn't smoke at all, isn't 'working on himself', isn't flakey, isn't scared of the word 'plan' or doing that more than three hours in advance, is uber cute, adorable, funny, smart, thinks I'm all that and a bag of chips, laughs WITH me at all my 80's clichés and digs my Rod Stewart hair in the morning? Like.. before I'm 36 would be lovely. Thanks.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Midsummer Observations
It is shocking - shocking, I tell you - how slow the latter half of July has been considering the first half and all of June were moving at breakneck speeds of all the above-average social butterflyness it could. So I've now had time to catch up on blogs - tho I can see the rest of you and your summers have NOT slowed down in the least because um.. yeah.. you're barely keeping up in the blogosphere [read: GOD I need some rest-of-summer plans] - I've done some shopping, had dinners with friends, drank lots and possibly even extra lots of wine, been pretty rigorous about this working out idea, which is actually less than an idea and more just me being excruciatingly sore in every possible muscle and not getting the least bit tinier overall that I've noticed, had my car fixed (more about that shortly), got a raise, reconnected with an old beau, tried to date a new one that will be moving in October anyway, so yeah, that's going well.. and have been keeping up on The Daily Show and learning more about politics than I should in any given summer.
So you know.. it's going.. just.. a little slowly right now. Tho crap! It's August already. You know what that means for Seattlites? Yeah, um.. summer is just about OVER and all of us here could swear it just began! So yeah.. there's that.
ANYWAY.. I've thought about some things and I'd like to share them with you.
* I am totally losing my eyebrows. NO, it's not because I'm over-plucking. I don't pluck in the middle of my brows where they seem to be thinning. It's just uh.. I'm getting older? Possibly. The hairs are seizing their moment to escape?? More likely. Additional guards are being called in.
* Seriously, if you already thought Jon Stewart was frickin brilliant, last night's Stephen Colbert's The Word, about special prosecuter Alberto Gonzales, was beyond stellar. I'm just wondering how many times Bush can invoke executive privilege and continue to back this guy..
* Tho I really wouldn't use my blog to say how great myspace is, it has done its bit of good and brought me so many new old friends. One being your friend and mine, dear Ammogirl, as well as other scattered high school and college randoms that I never really hung out with actually, but certainly appreciate their vigor in getting my attention and reminding me of who they are. So last Saturday hit a little closer to home when a boy I was completely smitten with my second to last year in college found me. And when I found out he lives just over on the eastside (well, I questioned at first, why the hell would you live over there?!), I was super happy.
So Jasper* and I re-met, caught up over drinks (and snacks, you know I have to have food, people), and I was just genuinely smiley the whole time. Not that I was hoping to reconnect that way - but I always had this affinity for him and he's always been a cuddly sort of guy - tho he'll probably hate me for writing that - but he's just one of those people you feel good being around and I know I need more people like that in my life. So.. yay me! Also, I can tell I talk too much for him.. probably why we never amounted to much.. but as a friend, he's very sweet in putting up with it so far. Bonus!
* I love this girl. I know I bring her up all the damn time, but you have to understand, we are sooooo different that it's kind of funny that we're friends. And then perfect because of exactly that. We've had good chats, done tarot, thrifted, gifted, dressed up, down, and all around, listened, had at least one tiff and at least a couple moments of 'I'd really like it if you didn't do that' sort of thing. Tho sometimes I expect one of us to put her arm up and push the other away a little due to our past experiences, we continue to motion the other to come closer instead. I mean, I'm persistent when I think someone is worth it and I'm just glad she allows me to remain there as one of her friends. Yeah, I pretty much love her to bits.
* Construction in your backyard sucks. Just in case you had no idea or thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad? No no.. it is. My landlord sold the backyard, which is less than 10 feet from my front door (that's around the back of the house mind you), so someone could build two townhouses.. and they started this morning. Let me just say bringing a backhoe thru a tiny alley sounds like a T-Rex stomping thru and then when it bites thru the cute little picket fence that's probably been there since the 50's like it's chomping up it's morning meal.. um.. it's a bit disconcerting. Not to mention loud. Also, the 'construction' guys should leave their seven-year-old kids at home. The ones who shout from my 'front' porch to their dog, which they also shouldn't have brought. Hi. Yeah. Thanks for noticing I sort of live here.
* When in unfamiliar parking territory, maybe look around your car for possible things that you may run over and, in fact, could be out to damage your sweet little ride and cost you oodles of cash to fix. Take my advice.. don't park in the sketchy pull out in front of one of your best friend's gorgeous Cape Cod mansiony houses even tho you love visiting, but just as a precaution remember that blackberry bushes and gravelly grassy areas can hide gigantic cement rocks with rebar in them that were once probably part of a house nearby but turned into blatant debris that was not so blatant at all because YOU DIDN'T SEE IT THERE WHATSOEVER and CRUCNHCRACKELYCRUNCHYMANGLEYCRUNCH was the sound it made as your poor little roadster ran over it and then promptly cried.. cuz OW...... sigh.
* Observation to self: Stop whining about stupid shit when life could change drastically in a matter of moments like it did for many people in Minneapolis when a bridge crossing the Mississippi River collapsed in the middle of yesterday evening's rush hour leaving four people confirmed dead, at least 79 others injured, and 30 or more still unaccounted for. I'm relieved the school bus full of young children trapped on a portion of the broken bridge was evacuated safely, but watching the raw video of the bridge in process of crumbling sincerely took my breath away. My heart and prayers go out to those who have lost loved ones to this accident as well as those who are still waiting to hear. Stupid tragedy. Finger pointing is imminent..
* On a lighter note - it's my little brother's 34th birthday today! I can't believe he's that old and he's doing so well - see his surf shop link here: Wave Hounds. Go there for bikinis, random jewelry, surf boards and gear, and a chat. He or my sister-in-law, Red**, will set you up. And tell him I sent you! Happy birthday little bro!
*Again, he picked the name, but at least this is one of his actual nicknames and it suits him I think. Cute, isn't it?
** Not her real name. See the website silly.
So you know.. it's going.. just.. a little slowly right now. Tho crap! It's August already. You know what that means for Seattlites? Yeah, um.. summer is just about OVER and all of us here could swear it just began! So yeah.. there's that.
ANYWAY.. I've thought about some things and I'd like to share them with you.
* I am totally losing my eyebrows. NO, it's not because I'm over-plucking. I don't pluck in the middle of my brows where they seem to be thinning. It's just uh.. I'm getting older? Possibly. The hairs are seizing their moment to escape?? More likely. Additional guards are being called in.
* Seriously, if you already thought Jon Stewart was frickin brilliant, last night's Stephen Colbert's The Word, about special prosecuter Alberto Gonzales, was beyond stellar. I'm just wondering how many times Bush can invoke executive privilege and continue to back this guy..
* Tho I really wouldn't use my blog to say how great myspace is, it has done its bit of good and brought me so many new old friends. One being your friend and mine, dear Ammogirl, as well as other scattered high school and college randoms that I never really hung out with actually, but certainly appreciate their vigor in getting my attention and reminding me of who they are. So last Saturday hit a little closer to home when a boy I was completely smitten with my second to last year in college found me. And when I found out he lives just over on the eastside (well, I questioned at first, why the hell would you live over there?!), I was super happy.
So Jasper* and I re-met, caught up over drinks (and snacks, you know I have to have food, people), and I was just genuinely smiley the whole time. Not that I was hoping to reconnect that way - but I always had this affinity for him and he's always been a cuddly sort of guy - tho he'll probably hate me for writing that - but he's just one of those people you feel good being around and I know I need more people like that in my life. So.. yay me! Also, I can tell I talk too much for him.. probably why we never amounted to much.. but as a friend, he's very sweet in putting up with it so far. Bonus!
* I love this girl. I know I bring her up all the damn time, but you have to understand, we are sooooo different that it's kind of funny that we're friends. And then perfect because of exactly that. We've had good chats, done tarot, thrifted, gifted, dressed up, down, and all around, listened, had at least one tiff and at least a couple moments of 'I'd really like it if you didn't do that' sort of thing. Tho sometimes I expect one of us to put her arm up and push the other away a little due to our past experiences, we continue to motion the other to come closer instead. I mean, I'm persistent when I think someone is worth it and I'm just glad she allows me to remain there as one of her friends. Yeah, I pretty much love her to bits.
* Construction in your backyard sucks. Just in case you had no idea or thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad? No no.. it is. My landlord sold the backyard, which is less than 10 feet from my front door (that's around the back of the house mind you), so someone could build two townhouses.. and they started this morning. Let me just say bringing a backhoe thru a tiny alley sounds like a T-Rex stomping thru and then when it bites thru the cute little picket fence that's probably been there since the 50's like it's chomping up it's morning meal.. um.. it's a bit disconcerting. Not to mention loud. Also, the 'construction' guys should leave their seven-year-old kids at home. The ones who shout from my 'front' porch to their dog, which they also shouldn't have brought. Hi. Yeah. Thanks for noticing I sort of live here.
* When in unfamiliar parking territory, maybe look around your car for possible things that you may run over and, in fact, could be out to damage your sweet little ride and cost you oodles of cash to fix. Take my advice.. don't park in the sketchy pull out in front of one of your best friend's gorgeous Cape Cod mansiony houses even tho you love visiting, but just as a precaution remember that blackberry bushes and gravelly grassy areas can hide gigantic cement rocks with rebar in them that were once probably part of a house nearby but turned into blatant debris that was not so blatant at all because YOU DIDN'T SEE IT THERE WHATSOEVER and CRUCNHCRACKELYCRUNCHYMANGLEYCRUNCH was the sound it made as your poor little roadster ran over it and then promptly cried.. cuz OW...... sigh.
* Observation to self: Stop whining about stupid shit when life could change drastically in a matter of moments like it did for many people in Minneapolis when a bridge crossing the Mississippi River collapsed in the middle of yesterday evening's rush hour leaving four people confirmed dead, at least 79 others injured, and 30 or more still unaccounted for. I'm relieved the school bus full of young children trapped on a portion of the broken bridge was evacuated safely, but watching the raw video of the bridge in process of crumbling sincerely took my breath away. My heart and prayers go out to those who have lost loved ones to this accident as well as those who are still waiting to hear. Stupid tragedy. Finger pointing is imminent..
* On a lighter note - it's my little brother's 34th birthday today! I can't believe he's that old and he's doing so well - see his surf shop link here: Wave Hounds. Go there for bikinis, random jewelry, surf boards and gear, and a chat. He or my sister-in-law, Red**, will set you up. And tell him I sent you! Happy birthday little bro!
*Again, he picked the name, but at least this is one of his actual nicknames and it suits him I think. Cute, isn't it?
** Not her real name. See the website silly.
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