"Those in the leftist blogosphere..." -- Neal Conan.
Love it. I love linguistic evolution.
"This should be the last day of 100+ temperatures..." --Dave Murray
They better not get rid of NPR. I'll miss it so.
Last night, Daren and I were NOT going out. We have low cash flow lately, and would be better suited to watch cable and drink water. Sex & The City was on TBS - the best episode ever, in fact, "13 going on 30". Where Miranda gets braces and Carrie's boyfriend frames her for smoking pot at his parents house:
Wade: "It was Carrie."
Mrs. Adams: "Is that true, Carrie? Did you bring marijuana into this house?"
Carrie: "Yes, Mrs. Adams. I brought the marijuana into the house." Sly look at Wade. "And I'm taking it with me when I go."
Wade had told Carrie that the "Canadian Supergrass" cost $400/ounce. Ouch.
Anyway, Carrie and Wade were drinking longnecks, which made Daren and I want to do the same. We went to Anthonino's to watch the ballgame. They pretty much turned the lights out on us at 11, so I thought we'd stop at Modesto for a mojito. A random looking guy in the parking lot said they were closed, which made me defensive, because I was dressed like a total hooge (short for hoosier?). I called them snooty and defiantly told them I would be taking my business across the Interstate to Pop's Blue Moon, where I can dress how I want AND they are OPEN!
As much as I love living on the Hill, everything closes hella early and hardly anywhere is open on Sundays.
Sarah was working at Pop's, which meant I had 2 shots of tequila and about 6 beers. We left around 1, and stumbled home, where I ate xanax and drunk dialed everyone in my phone. I even went on myspace at home, which I never do. Then I started thinking about Riley, which got me really down. So down I left Daren passed out on the couch, instead of insisting he come to bed with me.
Today....I'm tired.
Wednesday, August 2
Monday, July 17
The Bottom Drops Out
So much has happened in the past month +. After this coming weekend, my life might just go back to normal - the calm life, where I don't miss my tv shows and go out late on some weekend nights.
Before I get back to the purpose of this blog, though, which was bitching about things and talking about how great I am, I have to deal with this one important and awful recent event. I won't feel justified in returning to old me until I get this out. There's a lot to it, and it tears me up to think/write about it, so it's going to be in installments, starting with the day that the world changed.
I.
On my drive to work at 8:30 AM June 23, my mother called. She asked where I was.
"On my way to work. Late, as usual, heh."
"Can you get to where you can slow down for a minute?" The tears in her voice were unmistakable. I immediately knew that something was wrong. "Grandma?" I thought. "Grandpa?" I exited I-44 at Southwest Ave.
No. Not someone two generations ahead of me, 3 times my age. Mom had called to inform me that my cousin Cpl Riley E Baker was killed while on patrol in Iraq on June 22. He was 22 years old, and the best damn person on the planet. The BEST.
I felt like the bottom had dropped out, that I was falling. Through the bottom of the car, through the exit ramp, through pavement and earth. Riley was gone.
"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God." I searched for a place to park my car on this unfamilar road. I parked, and exploded into wailing. My heart was breaking. It wanted justice in a last good-bye, a last hug. It wanted justice in REVENGE.
After 30 minutes on the phone with mom, I called Daren. Then collected myself enough to drive the 20 minutes left to work. What was I going to do? My office is in the back. I could sneak in the back door and no one would be sure I was there. I wanted to hide. But then, I wanted to run away too. Best to go in the front door, and let them know. My boss was awesome. I sucked it up and wrapped up about an hour's worth of work I had to finish, then left to meet Mom and my sister Lacey at the park.
The initial impact of FINDING OUT left me reeling. I've never had anyone else close to me die before. I always said "War? Whatever. They're going to do what they're going to do, and unless it affects me personally in this one way possible, I can live in my little war-less dream world of network reality tv and pizza delivery." No more. I am angry at everyone involved: Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Osama bin Laden, Saddam Hussein, Tony Blair for not reasoning with Bush, Cindy Sheehan and all the protesters who didn't do a good enough job of bringing my cousin home, myself for not caring until it was too late.
130,000+ troops. I knew one of them.
Lacey and I went forward with our camping plans for that weekend, as Riley, lover of outdoors, would have wanted. On our drive home, we separately saw the same rainbow, the brightest we'd ever seen, and a complete arc. We thought the same thing.
Before I get back to the purpose of this blog, though, which was bitching about things and talking about how great I am, I have to deal with this one important and awful recent event. I won't feel justified in returning to old me until I get this out. There's a lot to it, and it tears me up to think/write about it, so it's going to be in installments, starting with the day that the world changed.
I.
On my drive to work at 8:30 AM June 23, my mother called. She asked where I was.
"On my way to work. Late, as usual, heh."
"Can you get to where you can slow down for a minute?" The tears in her voice were unmistakable. I immediately knew that something was wrong. "Grandma?" I thought. "Grandpa?" I exited I-44 at Southwest Ave.
No. Not someone two generations ahead of me, 3 times my age. Mom had called to inform me that my cousin Cpl Riley E Baker was killed while on patrol in Iraq on June 22. He was 22 years old, and the best damn person on the planet. The BEST.
I felt like the bottom had dropped out, that I was falling. Through the bottom of the car, through the exit ramp, through pavement and earth. Riley was gone.
"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God." I searched for a place to park my car on this unfamilar road. I parked, and exploded into wailing. My heart was breaking. It wanted justice in a last good-bye, a last hug. It wanted justice in REVENGE.
After 30 minutes on the phone with mom, I called Daren. Then collected myself enough to drive the 20 minutes left to work. What was I going to do? My office is in the back. I could sneak in the back door and no one would be sure I was there. I wanted to hide. But then, I wanted to run away too. Best to go in the front door, and let them know. My boss was awesome. I sucked it up and wrapped up about an hour's worth of work I had to finish, then left to meet Mom and my sister Lacey at the park.
The initial impact of FINDING OUT left me reeling. I've never had anyone else close to me die before. I always said "War? Whatever. They're going to do what they're going to do, and unless it affects me personally in this one way possible, I can live in my little war-less dream world of network reality tv and pizza delivery." No more. I am angry at everyone involved: Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Osama bin Laden, Saddam Hussein, Tony Blair for not reasoning with Bush, Cindy Sheehan and all the protesters who didn't do a good enough job of bringing my cousin home, myself for not caring until it was too late.
130,000+ troops. I knew one of them.
Lacey and I went forward with our camping plans for that weekend, as Riley, lover of outdoors, would have wanted. On our drive home, we separately saw the same rainbow, the brightest we'd ever seen, and a complete arc. We thought the same thing.
Thursday, June 8
You Just Haven't Earned It Yet Baby
I realized of late that I have lived in this city for almost 26 years, and have maybe 8 real friends to speak of. What's up with that? I also noticed that 1) most of my 8 friends are people who many people really want to be friends with, and 2) that I'm closer to each of the 8 than most other people. Is there a word for that, for a girl who isn't very popular herself, but maintains close friendships with really popular people?
Now.
I'm tired of my desk/computer job in the windowless box. I'm tired of seeing the same 4 people every day. They're lovely people, but a girl needs some variety.The time has come to strike out, to make a path for myself. Trouble is I have this annoying habit of being responsible and doing the right thing. The money is good, the job is dull. Suze Ormann (Ormand? whatever) says that money is not worth unhappines, especially in one's twenties. I'm over half done, and need to find fulfillment before the chips fall and I REALLY have to start being responsible.
It seems like older adults I know have resigned themselves to work they don't really enjoy, for the sake of mortgages and college funds.
The time to start is now.
I just wish I knew what the heck I want to do!
I've gotta get over this low self-esteem and build some confidence righ away. I'm 8 years out of high school (yikes!) but am gripped with teen angst on a semi-weekly basis. Why o why did I never learn to schmooze?
Now.
I'm tired of my desk/computer job in the windowless box. I'm tired of seeing the same 4 people every day. They're lovely people, but a girl needs some variety.The time has come to strike out, to make a path for myself. Trouble is I have this annoying habit of being responsible and doing the right thing. The money is good, the job is dull. Suze Ormann (Ormand? whatever) says that money is not worth unhappines, especially in one's twenties. I'm over half done, and need to find fulfillment before the chips fall and I REALLY have to start being responsible.
It seems like older adults I know have resigned themselves to work they don't really enjoy, for the sake of mortgages and college funds.
The time to start is now.
I just wish I knew what the heck I want to do!
I've gotta get over this low self-esteem and build some confidence righ away. I'm 8 years out of high school (yikes!) but am gripped with teen angst on a semi-weekly basis. Why o why did I never learn to schmooze?
Thursday, June 1
Good Eats to Come!
My sister is getting married in July, and I spent my lunch hour with her, her fiance, and our parents, sampling some of the great eats that will be served at the Lemp Grand Hall reception. We tried roast beef, pasta con broccoli, chicken, cheddar mashed potatoes and some of the best freakin' salad dressing ever! Although they will only offer one brand of beer, they will have a fully stocked bar, which means my plan of drinking only Long Island Iced Teas will be fulfilled. Her wedding is going to be such a blast!
Not a blast is riding in a car when either of my parents are driving, unless one enjoys hearing sharp intakes of breath, cursing, and namecalling for the duration of the trip. Every day, I see more and more where some of my not-so-wonderful traits come from, and it's kind of depressing. I want to have patience and be relaxed, but it is certainly not in my gene pool.
When we were finished tasting, sheets of rain met us at the door, and I had left my umbrella in the car. Is it ironic if the rain is on your tasting-food-for-the-wedding day?
Not a blast is riding in a car when either of my parents are driving, unless one enjoys hearing sharp intakes of breath, cursing, and namecalling for the duration of the trip. Every day, I see more and more where some of my not-so-wonderful traits come from, and it's kind of depressing. I want to have patience and be relaxed, but it is certainly not in my gene pool.
When we were finished tasting, sheets of rain met us at the door, and I had left my umbrella in the car. Is it ironic if the rain is on your tasting-food-for-the-wedding day?
here goes!
I've been meaning to get this started for awhile, because i know too many people on myspace to be honest in my blog there. they let you make a list of who can look at it, but not a list of who can't. Some things need to be kept on the down low.
Basically, I just need a place to talk to my future self (& future others, maybe, hopefully)
Gotta run! More later!
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