11:30pm

twenty two hours.

soft serve

i don't know when it happened, but it appears that i've become the world's biggest softie. i went with the divine miss n last night to catch tim burton's latest flick, big fish. and i spent no less than half of it on the verge of huge, choking sobs, overwhelmed by the tenderness of the film. this is just the latest manifestation of a rather alarming trend i've been observing in myself, in which the slightest thing -- sad movies, emotionally overwrought music, long distance telephone service commercials -- causes my eyes to well up and my jaw to stick in my throat.
how, i ask you, did this happen?
what happened to the glorious cynicism of my youth? when did i become such a soft touch? what does this mean for the future? am i going to hit a point where small children and puppies cause me to cry? am i going to start  collecting those 'precious moments' monstrosities, suddenly finding myself susceptible to their questionable charms? it doesn't bear thinking about.
meanwhile, i don't think i'll rest easy until once again i can once again aim a rounding cackle at the touching and sweet. alas.

in unrelated news...

do you ever have those moments where you're not certain if you're going to laugh, cry, fly into hysterics, or melt away completely?

deep in the thick of one of those right now. having just received my first love letter.

the thing is, the man is friends with the taxman. you remember the taxman, don't you, tim?

i got my w-2 form today, finally.

having been royally fucked by the taxman last year (hello, eight hundred dollars owed), i was a little trepidacious to open it; i was not emotionally prepared to face the prospect of again needing to suck it up and pull that kind of money out of my ass (new york being, as i'm constantly reminding my father, not the kind of town where a girl on my salary can actually squirrel money away)....

thus, i'm sure you can imagine the delighted cackle when i found out that i would not only not be in debt to the federal government, but that i was owed 400 dollars. 400 dollars! that's a new ipod or a downpayment on a new computer!

though i do owe money to the state and city of new york. twenty six whole dollars, those vultures.

tickled pink!

antidote

this morning was rapidly shaping up to be one of those that simply refuse to fit. woke up late, had to go skittering out of the house with wet hair (always a smart thing to do when the weather authority is predicting six inches of snow before the end of the day), feeling a bit icksome and acutely aware that Boy gets on a plane to san diego tonight (and while i feel better knowing he will be in good hands, i remain in a constant state of le sigh at the prospect of his absence for five days).

basically, one of those days where you just get the feeling that the only sensible thing to do would be to pull the sheets over your head and not leave your home under any circumstances.

but, leave my home i did (there is still some work to be done here, after all), braving the freezing cold and the icy streets. time came to kiss Boy goodbye and wish him safe journey; as we're in the midst of doing this, a man walks past us and calls out just loud enough to hear, "now that's what makes the world go round."

i took that as a sign that things were going to get better.

i remember this

I remember redwood trees, bumper cars and wolverines
The ocean's Trident submarines
Lemons, limes and tangerines
I remember this

i dreamt last night of the pacific, that someone had harnessed a short stretch of it and brought it to the east river, superimposing it over the promenade at brooklyn heights. they'd chosen a stretch i'd never seen, all white sand dunes and water the color of every tropical dream, but it didn't fit over the skyline. the chrysler building and the empire state peeked out from the top of the scenery; even though i could see around the facade, though, i sat rapt on the sand, staring out onto the water as though my gaze would part the waters and help me understand where i fit between the two.

i knew it wasn't home, but for that moment i wanted it to be. even as it picked me up and threw me backwards into downtown brooklyn, i pretended that this was how it had always been.

I remember this defense
Progress fails pacific sense
All those sweet conspiracies
I remember all these things

i dreamt last night of the american west, of the golden coast where the sky slips into the sea as though it were silk. i saw clearly how pink the hills become at sunset, and how longingly the light of august drips into the river. i dreamt of the wineries and the redwoods and the coffee shop where i spent my adolescence, of everything that marked my non-adult life. when first i left it, i couldn't turn my neck to look back; my resolve and my contempt made me too brittle to let it in. even now, i try to keep up the facade that i don't think about it like an old flame. as though missing my home would mark me as less than hardcore.

i haven't been back to california in two years; i haven't seen my mother in nearly that long. and though i act as though this is okay with me, a little part of me aches to revisit the scene of the crime. in the meantime, though, i dig my heels into the turf out here; i pretend that this is how it has always been.

Low ebb, high tide
The lowest ebb and highest tide
I guess we took us for a ride
I guess it's just a gesture

i dreamt last night of all those things that once caused me to curl my lip, from the weather to the earnestness of the people, but as i sit in this city, far from my family and far from home, i find myself aching for the road i can drive in the dark, for a world where i don't understand the meaning of the world 'cold,' and the sense of purpose i had when i lived there, even if that purpose was simply "get out."

when i moved to new york, i promised myself that i would never go back. i promised that i would never be one of those people who never makes it further than 150 miles away from where they grew up, i promised myself that i would never be homesick for that place, because it was not where i belonged. and maybe it's not. but sometimes, here in the concrete jungle, i grow tired of the ring of the voices on concrete, and i long to hear my own footsteps walking out among the oaks that i once knew so well. i want to remember who i was when i was soft and impatient for everything to begin; while i am quite fond of myself at this moment in my life, i no longer feel like pretending that this is how i've always been.

At the end of the continent
At the edge of the continent
At the end of the continent
At the edge of the continent

shades of today

a few random bits and bobs that have crossed my desk today: ear candling, where to take a blind person for dinner, , breakdancing for the pope, iraqi chocolates, the evil wrongness that is halle berry's catwoman costume, new orleans, norwegian drumlines, dean vs. kerry, roadside america and fear of the impending snowstorms.

on my mind

mix tapes, sex, next wednesday, tact, murder, laundry, practice, strings, new guitar strap, chocolate, summer, dewey's hair, my hair, back muscles, jealousy, classical guitar, punching bags, anger management, prozac, forgiveness, health insurance, comic books, alcoholism, nailpolish, wire cutters, mtv, new orleans, palm beach, napping, photography, doubletalk, acronyms, legwarmers, secrets, emma peel, friday.

wrapping up.

i handed in my resignation today. to say it was one of the single most satisfying moments of my life would be to do it no justice. to hand it to bosslady on her first trip to the office in ages, to say that i'm taking next wednesday for training, or the following friday for a trip, with no quarter? priceless. (her response: 'well, can we get an extra day, since you'll take wednesday?' mine: 'no.')

my only regret came in the meeting with scary vp that followed, in which we discovered that (to no one's surprise), bosslady would not be returning to the office, choosing instead to stay home and mother her sproglets. as such, they are going to be conducting a hard search, both within and without the company, to replace her. and that whoever they choose may not be located in this office. the subtext here is the confirmation of our fears and suspicions: they're gunning to move this department to florida, though they'd never dare say it aloud. to look around the table the moment this realization sunk in was absolutely heartbreaking. seeing my three colleagues, my smart, capable colleagues, told that this company officially doesn't care that the four of us have built this department from nothing into something really good, that we are expendable and easily redundant....was horrible. the absence of hope was suddenly made palpable, and the sense of defeat overwhelming.

i count myself so lucky that i've somehow, against all odds, managed to escape. but somehow, i feel like i'm leaving my entire platoon stranded behind enemy lines.

(because i'm a bad person, however, that does very little to mar my seething euphoria)

addendum.

also? they just emailed me back. they want to talk again. they want references.

yaaaaa!

recapping.

so, the interview went well, once i got over my quivering fear of squaring off against two men wearing power suits (something about men in shoulder pads just alarms me). i was too flustered to give a coherent answer to the "so, tell us about yourself" question, and i didn't get to spring out my perfect answer to the "what is your greatest weakness" question. but, i did get to walk them through my portfolio, and i did get to reveal that i'm simultaneously ridiculous and resourceful: about five minutes in, they asked me if i'd seen the website. i said yes and started chattering away about it, and my thoughts of how it could be improved...

never mind the fact that i was chattering about the wrong site. whoops.

lost ground there. fortunately, i got it back when they asked me how i'd ended up on the one i'd seen. i said my phone had cut out when the guy called, so i'd only caught his name, and not the company's. so, i did what any self-respecting web-jockey would do: i googled him and matched up the addresses. they liked that. anyway. it went okay, though it was short. they did ask me to send them my thoughts on the site, so i sent a seven-point manifesto with detailed explanations of why and how certain things could be changed. i'll find out what they thought by friday--they want a quick hire. which would be great for me--the notion
of handing in my resignation on the very day my boss returns from maternity leave is almost too irresistible to entertain. plus, there are rumors that they're moving the whole department to palm beach, which means layoffs.

so, i'm sure you understand why it is that i am so desperate to get out of here? ironic justice aside.

we will return shortly to our regularly scheduled programming.

to say that i am having a strange day would be the understatement of the century.

AWWWW YEEAAAHHH!

I got it! i got it i got it i got it!

NEWWWWW JJJOOOOOBBBBBB!

tiny frantic missive #2

it feels very strange, discussing your interview strategy with your coworkers.

tiny frantic missive #1

i can't help but wonder why it is that my father's pep talks always make me late for work.

fourteen hours and counting

here is what i have done to prepare for tomorrow's job interview:

• removed the scraggly nailpolish from my fingers.
  
  


• printed out my portfolio (consisting of a screenshot of the company website before they hired me; screenshots of the sites i have built to replace that site since then; the cover of the online newsletter; printouts of the three articles i wrote for that newsletter; three copies of my resume; the company calendar, which was my baby last summer.
  
  


• fretted about how to do my hair and makeup
  
  
• prayed to all that is good and holy that whatever evil cold thing is brewing in my soul will hold off until after the interview.
  
  
• dug out my suit.
  
  
• looked up sample interview questions and general tips for acing interviews on the internet.
  
  
• practiced the answers to the questions i'm sure they're going to ask ('why do you want to leave your current job?' 'what is your greatest weakness?')
  
  
• tried to stay calm.
  
  
• gotten a pep talk from the Boy, the Biscuit, the Owl, Stuart , Kate and the head of my company's IT department.
  
  
• had a glass of whiskey and three cigarettes.
  
  
• looked at the website of the company where i'm interviewing and tried very hard to think about what it is that they could possibly be wanting to do with it.
  
  

i got a brand new pair of rollerskates...

i stand unflinchingly by my belief that the very best part of karaoke is, in fact, the videos. forget the indulgence of an extrovert's fantasy. forget the virtually requisite drunkenness. certainly forget the noisy bridge and tunnel characters in the corner. no, the magic of karaoke is firmly centered around these low-budget video masterpieces. staple characters include: girl with heavy eyebrows and an early-nineties matte lycra dress; vato with the blue bandanna; oiled up, shirtless man with a mane of dark curly hair reaching about down to his ass; canals; bewildered yuppie with a wilting bouquet. truly, the archetypes that make society spin round!

high art. no doubt.

closure.

it's hard to tell which pains me more: the realization that i have lost a certain innocence that i had just a few short months ago, or how unfathomably naive i have been in my past. i ask because i have been drawn to revisit some of my earliest entries here, those concerning The Breakup, curious to look from the safe vantage point of a new love.
i remember at the time being so certain that he'd been telling me the truth about why he had to leave, about why he didn't want to be with me. i remember clinging to that belief like it was driftwood, like it was water and air. i remember needing to believe that there had to be some sort of reason why he left me. i couldn't accept that he'd just stopped loving me, if he'd ever started. i remember my friends shaking their heads, worried that i was hurting so much, and not believing for a second a single word of the pretty words i was holding on to.
looking back at all the things i wrote about the entire sordid affair, i realize that my friends were right. it was horseshit, every word he said to me. and i feel like a fool for ever believing it. more so now when the word around the campfire is that he has another girlfriend; everything he said about needing to not be involved with someone, to figure himself out without the prop of a lover, was utter rubbish. it wasn't that he didn't want a lover; it was that he didn't want that lover to be me. and it is to his credit that he didn't want to say that to me outright; he had at least that much concern for how i felt.
and you know what? that's fine. i'm finally okay with that. now, i'm just disgusted with myself for ever having believed it. for ever having needed it just to get up in the morning. because i should never wrap up my self worth in what an ex-lover thinks of me.

but by the same token, i am saddened that i don't think i'm ever going to do that again, fall wildly in love with someone with arms flung wide and no considerations for reality. that piece of me has been locked up so tight i can't even find the hinges. and it does manifest itself in my relationship with d., every time i keep my mouth shut, every time i hush him for talking about the future. he has decided that when he looks towards his future, he's started seeing me in it. and i can't get behind that the way i would have a year ago. i am reluctant to open that last chamber of my heart again, that blind optimism and good faith and unfaltering trust, because the last time i did it i stopped functioning properly for a short period. and that does sadden me, because i want to fall headlong into this, i want to be rapturously in love with no reservations and no fear. but i can't. not yet. or ever, really. never again will i give that gift with no ribbons to surreptitiously tie it to the apron strings, should i need it back.
which is not to say i'm a completely cynical old bird about the whole thing. i'm no longer pushing d. away with everything i've got. i've let him in, a move which has already proven to be a good one. but i fought him at the beginning, and sometimes still consider running hard and fast, so that i don't lose another piece of my heart, my innocence.

just getting started

i am working from home today, due to the fact that it is, as you may have heard, ASS COLD here. the official warning from the weather committee is that any skin exposed (i.e. your face) for more than thirty minutes is pretty much guaranteed to freeze. in the literal, not hyperbolic sense. freeze. face. face of frozenness. yarr.
of course, the fact that it was similarly cold last night did nothing to deter me from going to see these guys play down at the mercury lounge. and it was so very, very worth it. becuase they rocked the socks off my face. i'm not much for shameless plugs (unless they're my own), but really. these boys kick ALL the ass.

sing, angel!

last night, i got to cash in on the best christmas gift ever™: a voice lesson, courtesy of the biscuit. i remember when he gave it to me, he was a little apprehensive, concerned that i might consider it a comment on my singing, and its need to improve. but the thing is, i KNOW he thinks i'm a decent singer, and that he likes the sound of my voice. so really, it was like giving a car buff a gift certificate to a really good local garage: it never hurts to have an expert look under the hood, even if there's nothing that actually needs to be fixed. and the sad truth is that, despite all the warblings i do with my guitar, my voice hasn't been properly exercised since i got out of college. so the prospect of having someone put me through my paces properly was just irresistible.

despite my enthusiasm, however, i was slightly apprehensive. i didn't know what to expect. in the long run, however, that was probably a good thing. because if i'd had a set image in mind of what this experience was supposed to be, world would have been set utterly askew. the back story is this: most of my voice teachers have been hard-line traditionalists. old school, mozart-loving, focus-the-sound-through-a-point-in-your-forehead types. so, to be confronted with a tiny little woman who wished to start with a few moments of tai chi and meditation was a little disorienting.

but good. very, very good. i will freely admit that i felt more relaxed and more centered after the exercises. and just singing, really flying up in the rafters was great. it was nice to know that some of my old problems (tense jaw) were still evident, but that i hadn't messed anything up yet.

at the end of the hour, i was saddened, because i get an enormous kick out of this sort of thing, but really can't afford regular lessons at seventy bucks an hour. but, since apparently christmas presents keep on giving even a couple months later, the instructor decided that she could give me a partial scholarship--if i did two lessons a month, i would only have to pay for one of them. assuming i can do those lessons in half-hour increments, i think i can eke out $35 a month to bolster my mental health; don't you?

short post #2

oh, also?

JOB INTERVIEW! JOB INTERVIEW! next tuesday at 2pm eastern standard time. mark it on your calendars and send me some good vibes right around then, okay? with the power of positive energy, we can liberate me from this hellhole!

new year's fallout.

it's strange, but in these circumstances, it's the fact that i once understood SO WELL that makes it impossible for me to comprehend anymore.

a little housekeeping

to whomever it is that seems to enjoy perpetuating the spam scam wherein you pretend to be my bank and request my online access information, here's a tip: next time, be sure to spell "verification" correctly. "veerification" is a dead giveaway.

also, one of my exes (the englishman) is getting married.

fear of meat.

i have this strange aversion to cooking meat. i don't know why, or where it came from; considering i'm fairly adept in the kitchen, it seems like a rather odd affliction. i make a mean lasagna; i just wouldn't dream of doing it with anything other than spinach and ricotta cheese. i think it's a bit of a holdover from the lone quarter of home economics i was forced to take in the seventh grade. our teacher (a not-so-closet alcoholic whose coffee was so heavily spiked with brandy that we could frequently smell it as far back as the fourth row) had a pathology about salmonella and e coli--those pesky little bacteria that like to travel by meat. as such, she did her level best to instill in us a sense of urgency with regards to cleaning the kitchen after handling meat.

'use hot water! if it's not hot enough, the bacteria left on the chopping board might make someone sick! and you don't want that, now, do you?' (no, not especially. necessarily.)

of course, my eleven-year-old mind decided to take that a step further; if the bacteria left on the cutting board can make you sick, the bacteria in the meat must be able to KILL YOU BADLY! since i had no idea how much heat it would take to destroy the offending bacteria, or what i'd have to do to the meat, i basically just gave up on the idea of ever cooking it. i couldn't handle the pressure.

this particular course of action served me well through college, when i gave up all meat for a while, even exploring veganism (a short-lived incident, ending with a curious scene involving a block of cheese). also, the eating disorder helped with the not cooking of meat. or anything else. but, eventually i got out of school. and i started eating like a normal human being again. and i started reintroducing various meats into my diet, though i still retained a pathological terror of cooking them (thirteen years later, i still have a terrible fear of inadvertantly poisoning my dinner guests with an undercooked drumstick).

i stared down that fear last night.

while i am still too nervous to try anything wild, like, say, roasting a chicken, i am proud to report that i make a pretty decent salmon fillet with rosemary butter and roasted red peppers that thus far hasn't killed anyone!

up next:...i can't even think that far ahead. i whipped into such a frenzy over the prospect of poisoning Boy last night that i'm still too weary to even consider my next culinary triumph. really. unless that next triumph involves a dirty martini. i could probably consider that ok.

please excuse me while i use A LOT OF CAPITAL LETTERS.

so, according to the apple website, the strange and unresponsive behavior that my pod was exhibiting last night means one thing: time to reset.

which means: I HAVE TO RIP EVERY GODDAMN THING IN MY CD COLLECTION FOR A THIRD TIME SO THAT I CAN LOAD IT FOR A THIRD TIME.

yarr. ah well. i grumble, but reloading the music is really a pretty small price to pay for having the pod not die. so hopefully, actually, all i have to do is reset and reload. fingers crossed, eh? the pod is on the list with my guitars, the very short list of 'things that would cause me to go utterly ballistic if they died.'

actually, my brain is exploding. right now. as we speak.

there are roses on my desk. a dozen of them. in thanks for the 'pleasure of my company' this weekend.

it would seem that i am dating a romantic. hm.

tar-jhay!

i am coming down off the high that only a massive consumer frenzy can buy. today, at considerable risk to life and limb, i have found myself the proud owner of: new glasses, a new set of sheets, several picture frames and two bottles of contact lens solution.
it doesn't sound exciting to you, but consider this: i spent only eighty dollars on all these wonderful things. aww, yeah.

tmw. and how!

today, i pulled out a cd that i had abandoned for far too long, by local fabulites two chicks and a casio. oh, the excitement! oh, the joy! there's one song in particular that i adore, that i am hereby resolving to listen to every time i feel bad about myself, or feel pangs and ghosts of old dumpings, or just need a general boost and reminder of my own personal fierceness. and i think that all the rest of you should, too.

the lyrics. *ahem*

Yatta! Yatta!

start with this.

then look at this.

i guarantee your friday will improve

this is not interesting, but...

so, more than half my bonus was eaten by taxes. but it was still enough to pay off the credit card. i am now debt-free. ROCK ON.

now, to move on and deal with the fact that this company is trying to fuck me out of a week's vacation. if there is a god, i will be out of here before long.

in other news, i have a show tonight! at the orange bear! at 8! and i'm wearing leather pants! (it's all very exciting)

a last word, in relation to the previous entry.

my final, and most important new year's resolution, is something i neglected to mention, largely because it seemed...well...not flippant enough to include on my to do list. because it's very important.

it is this: i hereby resolve to never try to twist and contort myself into the shape that i think someone else wants me to be, ever again. starting now, i will call when i want to call, email when i want to email, bristle when i am angry, tell people i love them when i feel it, reserve the right to be direct when i'm disappointed, stop making excuses for other people's behavior, speak what's on my mind, expect an actual explanation when i ask a question, feel completely justified in wanting to talk every day, refuse to be treated like a dirty little secret, and expect to be appreciated like the fabulous creature i am and if people don't like it, they can fuck off and die. because if they're going to have me in their lives, they're going to have ME in their lives. not the shrinking little flower that is willing to compromise herself to keep people from running away. if i have to work that hard, and give up that much, they clearly don't want to be around me anyway.

i'm tired of trying to make other people happy by denying what i want. hell with that.

this new plan seems to be working much better so far.

addendum: someone wise put it simply thus: "we only commit treason against ourselves when we start practising contortionism to try to fit in some sort of case that's easy for someone else to carry around." i think that sums it up awfully well.

late again.

that phone should have rung fifteen minutes ago.

grrrr. remind me that it would be a Very Bad Idea for me to shoot my mouth off at this disrespectful harpy? please?

been around the world and i, i, i

the question was put to me earlier today: if i to pick a setting for a weekend away, where would it be? i said rhode island; vermont. he said spain; florence; vienna.
clearly, i missed the 'no holds barred' caveat that was implied. and i prefer his suggestions, anyway.
but i am expected to come up with a real answer to that--i mean, if i'm going to pick an anywhere, it had best be properly anywhere. and i say that as long as i'm playing this game, i might as well get exotic. morocco. tangir. ulaanbaatar. provence. qingdao. vienna (where the bears live).
funny. i just got home, and now i'd love to go away again. the magic of winter.
suggestions?

play by play.

okay. so. grr. not fired. even got partial bonus (only partial; my misery in this job over the summer was apparently punishable; but still, enough to pay off the credit card). spent the whole time dodging baited statements that she hoped would make me rat out my coworkers, or something. i am a master at sidestepping such landmines, fortunately.

all in all, a not terribly satisfactory experience. but not too horrible either. if for no other reason than it has really given me impetus to GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. as soon as is humanly possible. while i still have a soul.

more upsetting is the fact that i'd been looking forward to hugs and headstrokes tonight, and i will not be receiving them, courtesy of an 8am conference call for boy. given that we appear to be incapable of getting up on time (i was an hour late for work today), that put the kibosh on this evening's meeting. so, sadness.

really, there's not much left for me to do but go buy some shoes, then go home and unwind with the gee-tar, a glass of whiskey and some cheese.

vitriol and jargon

in theory, i am supposed to be up for my annual review sometime before the end of the month. i say 'in theory,' because erstwhile bosslady has made no effort to return my myriad communiques asking to schedule the blessed event. this has done nothing to alleviate the rift in my mind, tearing me between apathy and dread. given that i no longer have any respect for this woman, i don't really care what she says to me; on the other hand, she can fire me, and given my general history, i really need the health insurance.

i'm the last one in the office to be awaiting this questionable honor; having had the audacity to actually take my vacation days and use them, i missed the big wave two days before christmas. wherein she apparently did nothing but attack my colleagues for daring to be dissatisfied with the unbelievable mess and absurd state of affairs in which she left us. i liken it to a scene from the last meeting she attended, wherein she went after us for complaining about HR (who had been ignoring all of our questions for the better part of the month), placing the blame squarely on our shoulders, because clearly we just hadn't tried hard enough. never mind the seven emails and three phone calls we'd cooked up collectively to get our incredibly simple question answered.

anyway. the point is that at least i know she's going to tell me i'm a terrible person, a useless lump with no team spirit and no morale. but at least i respect the rest of my team, which is more than i can clearly say for her (at least if her behavior over the last year or so is anything to go by). which i feel gives me the right to simply spend my review fixing her with a dead-eyed stare, which is certain to make her uncomfortable. and it will be a useless victory. but seeing as how she's the daughter of the chairman of the board, it's not like i can actually complain, to i've got to get my rocks off somehow, really.

also, it's really, really, really, really cold today.

ADDENDUM: i have actually just received a communique from bosslady, and we have determined that my review will be conducted via telephone OVER MY LUNCHHOUR tomorrow. her reasoning is that it's too cold to bring the baby out. to which i think: "why would she bring a baby to my review, anyway? is that even allowed?" grumble grumble grumble.

all right. i admit it.

his room is neat and dark; cozy. tonight it's brightened by a small bunch of pink tulips, procured so that i might have something nice to look at. we're drinking wine and smoking cigarettes, he is absent-mindedly rubbing my feet, taking care not to tickle them too much. i try hard to stifle the feeling that i must be about to wake up from this and returned to the cold winter.

it's so strange how this sort of thing hits so fast, how something i fought so hard at the outset has boomeranged back to become something i've willfully thrown myself into.

i didn't want or plan to be someone's girl again for quite some time. but i suppose that you never plan for these things, do you?

i mean, not if you expect them to work out.

it's all upon the list

so, because i'm a big ol' narcissist and a relentless social experimentor, i want to try something...you may or may not be aware of the fact that i have compiled a list of '100 things about shivery' (you can find the link in the sidebar). if you were to look at the comments box for that, you will note that the lovely ladies k have added their own contributions. which made me think...what an interesting idea. to encourage y'all, dear readers, to make your own contributions to the list!

i mean, if krissa's discovery of my old website is anything to go by, clearly you all know things about me that i'm not so aware of, myself. so enlighten me! let's make 100 things...more than 100.

and really, if you don't know anything about me, just make something up. but be nice!

2004, so far

the good: mangoes and pineapples on new year's day. alias saturday. dinner and a movie on friday. digging out the awful truth on sunday night. using the kissy mix for the powers of good. bonding with the pod. beso brunch.

the bad missing the astoria brunch. being back at work. running out of socks, so i had to wash some in the sink.

the quote of the day: "it's too early to be human, forget pretty."

more to follow. still waking up. and sifting through thousands and thousands of emails. who would have thought that two weeks of neglect would cause an inbox to fester so?

landmasses and annuity

i'm not very good at holding grudges or perpetuating vendettas. but, as i believe that every well-rounded girl should have at least one (so that she might expound deviously over a bottle of whiskey and a map of tucson), i do my best to cultivate a few. but, using the same logic that says a cow is easier to shoot than a fruitfly, i tend to aim high. none of this soft-touch single person vendetta action. oh no. i have vendettas against full years, against entire landmasses. so greenland and 2003 had better watch out. as soon as they've let their guard down, i'm so going to fuck their shit right up, yo.

word.