Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Things I have encountered this week that I would like to share.

Sex, lies and videotape
This is one of the many movies from the 80s that I've never seen, along with Gremlins, Say Anything and the entire Molly Ringwald oeuvre. To be honest, I don't know why I put it on my Netflix queue at all, and once I received it, it sat unwatched on top of my TV for a month. Then, when I finally did watch it, I spent the first ¾ of the film distracted. But once it was over, I couldn't stop thinking about it. It was extremely erotic, and above all thought-provoking. And I realized with this movie that I have found James Spader incredibly sexy in everything I've seen him in except Boston Legal. But I never noticed before. Weird, huh?

Stephanie Plum
I am obsessed with Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum books. I read the last ones first, starting with #10 about two years ago, and I read 11 and 12 shortly thereafter. But it's only recently that I went back and started reading them from the beginning, and I can't put them down. I've been averaging one a day for a week, and this is in the midst of work and finals. I finished #7 last night, and now I'm worried that I'm going to run out of books within the next few days. There are very few books that make me literally laugh out loud, but these books do it every time. (People in McDonalds were staring the other day, because I was sitting at a table all by myself giggling hysterically.) And come on, have there ever been two sexier men than Joe Morelli and Ranger? I almost envy Stephanie her dilemma as she bounces back and forth between the reformed bad boy and the unapologetically unreformed. It makes me remember what that bad boy phase most women go through is about. Awesome quote:
"Last time you called me late at night you were naked and chained to your shower curtain rod. I hope this isn't going to be disappointing." -- Ranger

The Melting Pot
I had my very first Melting Pot experience last night. I'm not generally one for delayed gratification, so the "cooking" phase was difficult for me, but at the end of the meal, I was relaxed and comfortably full, not stuffed like I often am after going to restaurants. I haven't had fondue in ages, and the food was wonderful, the service was excellent, and the atmosphere was gorgeous. Things that force me to slow down are usually good for me.

This was my absolute favorite computer game when I was a kid—back when I was still good at computer games because they hadn't gotten all fancy. I found it online awhile ago and downloaded it. It's very simple—you're in a mine, you're a little backhoe type of thing, and you're collecting emeralds while not getting zapped by little ugly monster thingies. You don't use a joystick or a mouse—just the arrow keys and F1. It's easy and mindless and I can't stop playing it now.

Tuesday, December 5, 2006

Writer's block

I'm self-consicous about a lot of things, but my writing isn't one of them. I've been writing for as long as I could hold a pencil, and I'm damn good at it. But I'll tell you what--when writer's block hits, there's nothing on this earth that can dislodge it.

I had to write a quote for a press release today (just the quote; someone else was writing the release) and I swear to God it took me close to an hour to write exactly 71 words. And don't get me started on the award nomination I just (sort of) finished. The first one turned out very well. The second is crap, and that means I'm going to have to rewrite it tomorrow.

I love to write. I hate to write when I have to write.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

2006 = 1984?

From Simply Orwellian: Cutting and running from 'stay the course'
By Leonard Pitts Jr.
Originally published October 29, 2006
Available at the Baltimore Sun

The Party said that Oceania had never been in alliance with Eurasia. He, Winston Smith, knew that Oceania had been in alliance with Eurasia as short a time as four years ago. But where did that knowledge exist? Only in his own consciousness, which in any case must soon be annihilated. And if all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed - if all records told the same tale - then the lie passed into history and became truth. "Who controls the past," ran the Party slogan, "controls the future: Who controls the present controls the past." -from 1984 by George Orwell

I'm here to tell you we're going to stay the course. - George W. Bush, Nov. 28, 2003

We've got to stay the course, and we will stay the course. - George W. Bush, April 5, 2004

The United States of America will stay the course. - George W. Bush, Nov. 21, 2004

We will stay the course; we will complete the job in Iraq. - George W. Bush, Aug. 4, 2005

We will stay the course, we will help this young Iraqi democracy succeed. - George W. Bush, Aug. 31, 2006

Listen, we've never been 'stay the course.' - George W. Bush, Oct. 22, 2006

Wednesday, October 25, 2006


I am faced with a dilemma this evening. I find myself facing a situation that I thought I'd relish, but instead I am wracked with indecision.

I'm in grad school right now for library science. I'm in the middle of my first semester, and every class I attend just strengthens my knowledge that this is the right path for me.

I have serious ups and downs with my current job. There are days when I think that I can stick it out for the two years it will take for me to finish grad school, and then there are days when I don't think I can make it to the end of the week. It was on one of the latter days when I sent my resume to a headhunting firm that specializes in library staffing.

I got a call from them today. Now I'm excited, terrified, guiltstricken and indecisive. That's not how this was supposed to feel.

On the one hand, I see a world of possibility opening up for me. But this is way out of my comfort zone--it won't always be, but if I walked into a library right now my two classes worth of instruction wouldn't do me much good in the grand scheme of things. I don't know how to go about taking the time off to go to interviews. Only once in my life did I look for a job while I already had a job, and somehow that interview ended up being on a Saturday. (I do not count my restaurant jobs here. I did, on occasion, tell my restaurant bosses "This place sucks, and I'm going home and updating my resume so I can get the hell out of here." That is not recommended in corporate America.) And while I crave the career change, it scares the hell out of me.

Too, I feel guilty. I work for a very small business; we're at a point right now when anyone leaving would be potentially disasterous, but most of all me. There are three of us; the junior member of the team can't do my job, and my boss just doesn't have enough time. I feel like I owe them a warning, but I'm afraid to do that.

I have to call the headhunting firm back tomorrow and arrange an interview; I need to come up with an excuse for taking part of a day off; I need to get a handle on my guilt and decide how I'm going to deal with my current job. Right now, I'm going to bed. At least I can't be stressed when I'm asleep.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Things I Hate (Part III)

Getting excited because I have a new comment or friend request, only to discover that it's an ad. Getting MySpace spam is not cool.

Every single person who drives between Takoma Park and Olney during rush hour.

The fact that I can't afford to hire a cleaning service, yet can't force myself to actually clean.

A Word to the Wise (Part V)

If you happen to make your living by panhandling with an obvious severe physical disabilty, perhaps you should not be seen standing perfectly upright at a McDonalds in that same neighborhood.

Just a thought.

Thursday, October 12, 2006


Last night I had a series of very odd dreams that I only half-remember today. But I remember one very clearly: I was doing my laundry. With Metallica.

Yeah, I don't understand my brain either.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006


I've never considered myself a shrinking violet. I'm not afraid of snakes. Mice don't bother me; in fact just last week I spent several days feeding an orphaned baby mouse every two hours through an eyedropper until I could get the poor little thing to a wildlife rehabilitation center. I don't like spiders, but I'll kill them if necessary. And while I have been known to play the "girl card" to get a nearby man to kill an insect, it's much more because I don't want to do it than that I can't. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of it myself if necessary.

All of this is with one exception. I hate crickets, and they freak me out to an extreme degree.

This is unfortunate, as the house I live in is cursed with an overabundance of both regular field crickets, and the camel variety. (Click on the link, look at the picture, shudder uncontrollably, and return. I'll wait.)

I don't know for certain where this dread/fear/hatred of crickets come from, but I have a theory. When I was about four or five years old, my family went on vacation down to Ocean City. We rented a house known as the Honeymooner's Cottage (and why it was named that when it had at least three bedrooms is beyond me) which was absolutely infested with crickets.

I have very clear memories of some parts of the trip--the layout of the house, and a specific incident when my mother called Dad to come kill a cricket. I went charging up the stairs, acting all tough, to "help" her--then promptly screamed and ran away when I first saw the damn thing. My poor father probably didn't get any rest the whole trip, what with running to and fro to kill crickets.

Other memories of the trip are less clear--I don't remember going to the beach, though I'm sure we must have. And I have a fairly hazy memory of an incident in which I was tucked into a bed that had a cricket in it. My memory of this is unclear enough that I may have just heard about it, or I may have even made it up--my memory does things like that sometimes--but that half-memory still provokes feelings of horror.

"But wait!" those of you who have known me for a long time may be saying. "You used to have frogs as pets, and you fed them crickets!" Well, yes. But when your pet tree frogs can sit on your thumbnail without spilling over, you're feeding them teeny little crickets. On one occasion, there was a cricket who evaded being eaten long enough to get to an impressive size; when it became less likely that the frog would eat the cricket than vice versa, I disposed of it--and it was still half the size of a normal cricket you'd see outside.

So all of this brings me to last night. I moved a blanket, and a cricket jumped out. I promptly freaked out. Then it jumped under my bed. I freaked out some more, because I was alone, and I was either going to have to kill the thing or go to sleep with it still in the room. Once upon a time I had a cat who would take care of all cricket-related disposal, leaving me just a leg or two to alert me that the little fucker had ever been there at all. But no more--Millie lives with Tracy now, and Spats is old and somewhat decrepit and recovering from surgery, and my enthusiastic attempts to get her involved in the cricket issue resulted in her stretching, rolling over, and going back to sleep.

So, I talked myself off the ledge, called O. for moral support, and went cricket hunting. No dice. After O. assured me that the cricket couldn't climb into my bed (I don't know if he was lying to me, and I don't want to know) I decided that I was just going to have to live with the fact that a cricket was in my bedroom. I calmed down, looked carefully every time I set my feet on the floor, and distracted myself with a good disaster movie. (Which also freaked me out. I was not in a good place last night.)

But then.

I moved something else that was lying on the floor, and a completely different cricket came jumping out. I knew it was completely different because this one was a camel cricket. *shudder* I had almost convinced myself that I could live with this one too, when the fucker started climbing the wall. That would not do.

So, long story short (I know, too late) I employed my patented insect-killing method (trap, carry, flush) with reasonable success but extreme stress. The fuckers are dead, but there are many more to take their place. I may have to move.

Thursday, April 6, 2006

I've been tagged...

So the rules are, once you've been tagged, you have to write a blog with "Six weird things/habits about yourself." In the end you need to choose the 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says "you are tagged" in their comments and tell them to read your blog.

1. I'm afraid of fire. I don't have a problem with candles or fireplaces, but I'm always uncomfortable around open fire pits and I won't light a match. Or a lighter.

2. I don't eat beef. Except at the hockey game last night I had two hot dogs because they just looked so good. But usually I don't eat beef.

3. My family considers napping an art form. When all of us are at my parents' house, you can be sure that at least two of us (and a dog) will all climb into my parents' bed for a nap. My parents' dog Mickey recognizes the word nap and will run to get into bed first.

4. When I'm sick or hurt, the only thing in the world I want is my Mom. Luckily Grandma's closer and makes a quite adequate substitute.

5. I brush my teeth approximately 4 times a day. Not after meals like a normal person, but every time I'm about to leave the house.

6. I'm a shoe snob. I would rather wear old shoes than shop at Payless.

Monday, April 3, 2006

I got a cute pedicure the other day...

So this evening, I slipped, fell on my ass and ripped the toenail halfway off my big toe. My toe hurts and my feet aren't cute anymore and I think I'm actually more upset about the second one. Does that mean there's something wrong with me?

Fuck You, Cynthia McKinney.

Ok, this really pisses me off. She walked around the metal detector--which is totally allowed, if she is wearing proper identification, which she wasn't--and when the officer didn't recognize her--and did his job to protect the Capitol--she hit him.

She hit a police officer. Who the hell is she, Zsa Zsa? With all of the talk about securing our nation, our elected officials pull this shit? And now, instead of owning up to her mistake and issuing an apology, she's saying that she was inappropriately touched and racially profiled.

She walked around the metal detector and the officer didn't recognize her. I absolutely believe that racial profiling goes on in this country, and it is an abomination. But this is not racial profiling. This is an officer of the law responding to a perceived threat to the center of our country's power. I have a hunch he would have moved to stop her whether she was black, white or pink with polka dots. For Rep. McKinney to claim racial profiling in this case is unconscionable. It detracts from the experience of the many people of color who are in fact victim to this practice.

And as far as the "inappropriately touched" comment, unless he stopped her by grabbing her breasts or her crotch, that's bullshit. She's lucky he didn't tackle her.

I hate the sense of entitlement people in this country have. Guess what--the rules apply to you, too. I hope you lose your election. I wish I lived in your district so I could vote against you. And I swear to God, if I did, I'd vote for an anti-choice, homophobic Republican before I voted for you.

Fuck you, Cynthia McKinney. You are what is wrong with this country.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

A Word to the Wise (Part II)

If you feel the need to trash me behind my back, perhaps you shouldn't do it in front of the guy who's dating my sister.

Just a thought.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Driving in DC sucks!

So I had a meeting today at the Willard Intercontinental Hotel on Pennsylvania Avenue. It's a gorgeous building, and it meant free breakfast, so it was awesome. Until...

First of all, parking in the hotel garage--for 4 hours--was $20. Even in DC that's a little excessive, don't you think? You can park cheaper at the airport.

And then, I come up out of the parking garage and there are fire trucks and police on both ends of the street, blocking it...and blocking me in. I got so flustered trying to get out of there that I went from the hotel to Olney via NY Ave./295.

And I haven't been able to find any news on what caused it, which probably means that some dignitary or another was arriving or leaving and they shut down the street for them. Welcome to DC, where "I got stuck behind a motorcade" is a valid excuse for being late to work.

Friday, March 17, 2006

I am too old for this...

The sad fact is that I cannot any longer go out clubbing all night and shake off the effects the next morning. I had a fabulous time at Nation last night, but now I want to die.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

So after years of loathing my job(s)...

I've decided to go back to school to be a librarian. I figure, if I've never had a PR job I've actually liked, maybe I should consider that this just isn't my calling.

Ok, now this is the part where people who know me well break up laughing. I want to work in a school. With kids. Possibly little ones.

Of course, it's going to take me two years to finish school, so I'll still be at this job for awhile. But seriously, there are people out there who like their jobs. I've heard about them. I want to be one.

But first I have to take the fucking GRE.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Mother Nature is Trying to Kill Me

It is completely unfair for the weather to be in the 70s and 80s if it's not going to stick. I took all of my summer clothes to the dry cleaner but now my feet are cold because I wore the cute sandals today.

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

A Word to the Wise

If you think the potential roommate is a shady bitch, do not let him move in. Eventually you will have to kick him out, and then there will be yelling and slamming things around. And you'll have to pay for all the porn he ordered off of On Demand.

Monday, February 27, 2006

I'm Freezing

Seriously, can I file for workmans comp if I freeze to death in my office? Walking to the bathroom is the highlight of my day because it's a good 10 degrees warmer in there. When they said "Do you want the office with the window?" they didn't add "because there's a serious draft coming from it and you'll have to wear mittens."