I'm a Meat Puppet

In the spirit of going low-carb (family history of diabetes, unnatural attachment to breads and pasta), I went grocery shopping for meat. I grabbed my little basket and hurried to the meat department.

I felt like a crazy person with all of the meat products stacked in my basket. Chicken, turkey, turkey bacon, shrimp, pork, and a small thing of beef (Thai Beef Salad, ooh boy!). I was embarrassed to give the cashier my nearly overflowing basket of meat.

We'll see how the meat product diet goes. I am supplementing it with approved vegetables and dairy products. Ugh.

Most posts later, it seems I've missed a month of blogging. So much for blogging for 365 days.

My Heart Will Go On, John Madden....

Continuation of the documention of the mundane:

Last night, I watched John Madden: My Road to Canton. I realized that I have an ex-boyfriend who bears a slight physical resemblance to John Madden.

Dog parks are odd places. The dogs I travel with like the dog park, although they seem to stay in their own pack. I think they prefer having a different yard in which to sniff, shit, and pee.

My friend Brian sent me the above photograph shortly after he walked by this restaurant. I'm going to try to eat there when I'm in DC for a conference. It's the ultimate date restaurant. I wonder if one can order the "You're Going to Go On and Make Babies" pad thai while romancing a Thai man-woman hooker (man-woman hooker is an inside joke).

EDIT: After showing the Thai Tanic picture to a couple of folks in the office, one of them submitted this photograph from his DC vacation for consideration:

Aaaarrrr, That Was a Great Movie!

I saw the second night of showing for 48-Hour Films. Some were hilarious in a good way, some were hilarious in an "Oh my god, I support your endeavor, but it ain't so good, bless your heart." Thankfully, the film I worked on was in the former category. Good audience response. I was happy that friends showed up to vote for the film, made me very happy.

Definitely something I'd do again next year.

An interesting PDF from Jett. Getting almost everyone closer to God.

Concessions Regarding Sleeping Arrangements

Thoughts I've had lately on sleeping arrangements:

I've lived with a boy, I've had boys (sadly, I feel the levels of intellectual/emotional attachment in my relationships do not warrant the use of 'man' at this time) spend the night. In the beginning, when it comes time to figure out the sleeping arrangement, I usually try to push the boy toward a couch/futon/floor. It's not that I don't like sleeping with other folks, it's just that determining sleeping arrangements takes on some sort of weird significance for me, more than "I love you." When asleep, I could accidentally kick someone, I could snore and ruin someone's rest (although I am a very light sleeper). If someone's sharing the bed with me, there are three things going on, 1. it's serious, and I may utter "I love you, " 2. we are extrememly good friends and I trust the guy friend completely, or 3. I'm too tired and/or drunk to care where anyone sleeps.

I'm pretty good about sticking to my guns when it comes to sleeping arrangements. Once I'm comfortable with someone, I don't want to curl up and sleep holding each other. It gets hot, I like to move a little in my sleep. I like boys who sleep back to back, side to side with me. I'm not worried he's going to run away in the middle of the night, I don't need to hold on tight.

While I'm pretty adamant about how I sleep with human beings, I'm a pushover when it comes to pets sleeping on my bed. Two nights ago, my small dog takes up the middle of the bed, and my body is contorted at the top of the bed, putting me into a crescent shape. Reading my book, I start getting a little comfortable. Then the cat jumps onto the book, and she makes many return visits to the book after I toss her off the book. I eventually gave up, got into my crescent shape again, and fell asleep.

I guess I should be grateful that the animals have moved to the living room by the time I wake up. I'm probably kicking them in my very light sleep:)

Conversation with My Brother

He lives in San Francisco, and he told me the following (IM conversation transcript):

David: did i tell you i met kid rock?

me: no
is he as gross in person as he seems on tv?

David: nah, he actually was clean. drunk and looking for a cab in the marina the other night. my boss and i stopped and talked to him for a few minutes. we were gonna give him a lift but we didn't have room in the rover

me: you didn't give kid rock a ride?
that's the most awesome thing i've ever heard

David: we would've but we couldn't fit him.
my boss is a huge fan too. she actually had his cd in the truck
she is from michigan too

Weekend Update Deux

This weekend's word: Overwhelming. - adjective 1. that overwhelms; overpowering: The temptation to despair may become overwhelming. 2. so great as to render assistance or opposition useless: an overwhelming majority.

Therefore, I'm moving onto The Highlights of the Weekend:

- I have the best when it comes to best friends.

- Catching part of the Chelsea/LA Galaxy game, discussing the future of soccer in America, then enjoying much-needed inebriation due to drinking Peruvian cocktails made with Pisco.



- Finally having my car washed and detailed. I'm not quite sure why it smells like polished leather considering I do not have leather seats. Maybe ashtrays smell like leather and I never realized it. I did not enjoy the racist old white women sitting with me at the carwash. Just because I'm white doesn't mean I'm going to sit with cranky white women and bitch about why my car isn't washed, waxed, and detailed in 10 minutes. One of them almost said 'wetback,' and I almost died. I sat outside and visited with those poor bastards having to clean out my nasty car.

- Walking Lucy through the pet supercenter and paying someone to clip her nails. It was worth the $8.

- Being a good little future instructor and starting work on my fall semester lesson plan.

- Continuing on the diet and losing 7.6 pounds in the past 10 days. Who would've thought that I'd actually like my scale?

- A David-Bowie themed Flight of the Conchords.

A Photo From My Cube O'Horrors

The fortune reads "Remember three months from this date. Good things are in store for you." I marked the three-month date in my Outlook; nothing spectacular happened that day.

Gophering Like a Movie Star - Weekend Update

I was a gopher on a movie set this past weekend. Gopher duties included bringing coffee at 7:30am on a Saturday, keeping up with water and ice requests, and documenting the shoot, i.e. taking pictures to keep myself occupied. The movie is a 5-minute comedy featuring Conan the Librarian. I learned over an 11-hour period that movie productions involve lots of waiting around and amusing conversations. I met some interesting folks and it's something I'd definitely do for next year's competition. I came home after picking up Lucy and promptly fell asleep for 9 hours without changing clothes.

EDIT: The movie is showing July 25th at Riverdale 10. There are multiple viewings; more information here.

Gophering was also Phase I of Operation Nasty Sunburn.

Sunday was spent swimming and working my way through Phase II of Operation Nasty Sunburn. We also played fun pool games like Rickshaw (pulling your friend around the pool while impersonating a rickshaw driver) and Dump-The-Dog-In-The-Pool.

Needless to say, if you're as white as me, you're going to burn like you're in Hell. I took Monday off and doped myself with Benadryl to reduce the redness and swelling.

I'm Out to Ruin Your Children

As of 1pm today, I'm an official instructor of anthropology. Fancy title for having to teach one class. The amount of paperwork I filled out suggested importance, but we all know better.

It's better than joining the circus.

Take Your Sex "Tips" Back!

Reading the HuffPo this morning, I came across a post (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2007/07/11/real-men-mock-cosmo-sex-t_n_55743.html) regarding how men disregard Cosmo sex tips. I went to the original article. I think I love Markus. Here are the highlights:



But do any of these “boundary-pushing moves” ever work? We collected some of the more common Cosmo tips and ran them by a group of New York men. Their general response: Mind blowing. Not the sex, mind you. The ideas.

“Cup his hand against your mouth, and flick your tongue quickly in and out of the center of his palm.”

* What’s that, Helen Keller? There’s a fire in the barn and Billy is trapped? - Soren, 37, comedian


“Make a silly bet to be paid off in sexual favors, or play a board game naked in bed and agree that the loser has to grant the winner one lusty request.”

* Everybody wins in a sexual bet, but playing naked board games is like donning a tuxedo to watch New Year’s Eve on TV. Board games don’t quicken the pulse, and whatever competitive thrill they impart is canceled out by the fact that it takes 17 hours to complete a game of Monopoly. Meanwhile, you’ve been beaten into fiscal ruin by a naked hotel baron. - Brendan


* I’m not sure I know anyone who’s patient enough to complete an entire six-hour game of Scrabble while a naked girl is a few feet away, but OK. Consider this a lesson in delayed gratification. - Markus

“Chill a bunch of marbles in the fridge. Toss them on the bed and make him lie on them while you straddle him.”

* Bitter cold is not conducive to sex. Neither are marbles jammed in the small of your back. Why not just bang in a walk-in freezer while someone named Rabbit punches you in the kidneys? - Markus


“Slip a glazed doughnut around his manhood and nibble it off.”

* I love doughnuts and I love oral attention - just not together. The image of her biting and chewing in that region makes me wince. Plus, how good could it be for her? - Chuck

* Great, if you’re f - - - ing Homer Simpson! - Markus

* After a stunned silence, I came to the conclusion that Cosmo is testing your obedience so they can take over the world. Now, they have actually come up with an idea too degenerate for pornography. Not even Sarah Silverman could pull off the necessary comedy and hotness to make this work. In fact, this idea is so unarousing, I’m pretty sure the doughnut would slip off long before you took a second bite. Gentlemen are strongly advised not to try the “Munchkin” counterpart to this move. - Brendan

* If that’s what it takes to enjoy Krispy Kreme guilt-free, then I just feel used. - Soren

Last-minute ticket to see this guy tonight. Cool.

It's Like A Gorilla For Hire

Found at http://newyork.craigslist.org/fct/etc/367514710.html (and I imagine it'll be taken down soon):

NIT PICKER! Need someone to pick out head lice.

Reply to: ****

Date: 2007-07-05, 11:40PM EDT

Our daughter seems to have gotten head lice at camp this summer and we need help going through her hair. It's not pretty, but somebody's got to do it. Wee need someone to start tomorrow (Friday,, July 6) from 3:00-6:00, then come back for 5 days, 2 hours/day. We will need to know that you've done this before and will need references.

Location: Stamford, CT (N. of Exit 35)
Compensation: $30/hour
This is a part-time job.

Who Needs Financial Aid When There Are Blow Jobs Available

My blog is becoming merely a repository of stories I find amusing:

http://socialitelife.com/2007/07/05/hugh_grant_put_divine_browns_kids_through_college.php

"Turning tricks pays!
Brown, real name Estella Marie Thompson, is part of a British television special airing tonight on ITV. She tells the Daily Mail she made nearly $1.6 million doing publicity after her infamous arrest with the "Four Wedding and a Funeral" star......She says, "I love Hugh Grant. Hugh Grant put my kids through school, gave us a chance at the life we probably would've never reached."

Brown went on to pass along her best wishes to Hugh, saying, "If I can meet him and shake his hand, all I would like to say is: 'Thank you. I appreciate you, and if there is anything I can do in return I would love to be a friend.'"

I Googled Myself...I Get an Outhouse!

I found the typical Anthropology references (not very many), and quite a few British and Australian sites. This was my favorite, taken from http://www.rootsweb.com/~bmuwgw/friths.htm :


FRITH, SOLOMONW:12a:398,40027 January 1772proved 19 March 1777
In the name of God, Amen, I Solomon Frith in the islands of Bermuda or Somer, mariner, being of sound mind and memory do make and ordain this my last will and testament in manner and form following, that is to say
Improvis. I will that all my just debts and funeral charges be paid and discharged.

Item. I give and bequeath to my dear and loving wife Sarah Frith one use of my dwelling house and of the land thereunto belonging butting northerly on the sea, easterly on lands of Abraham Vesey and Joseph Robinson, southerly on the common road, and westerly on the lands belonging to me, and lands of Rehobeth Lowe in the occupation of Joseph Pitt for and during her natural life.

Item. I give and devise after the decease of my aforesaid wife, my said dwelling house and lands, butting aforesaid to my loving daughter Elizabeth Vesey, to her heirs and assigns forever, together with the outhouses and buildings thereon standing and being.

48-Hour Film Festival and Pool Parties

I've been recruited as a gopher for the 48-Hour Film Festival. Having no previous filmmaking experience (excluding a very brief, and somewhat forced, foray into the exciting world of screenwriting), I told a team organizer that I'm pretty good about bringing coffee to real filmmakers.

The website: http://www.48hourfilm.com/littlerock/

I'm pretty excited about this, and the following:

I have been promised a swimming pool and chilled white wine every evening of next week. I was told this weekend that I could cook in the gourmet kitchen all week. Imagine, getting off work and pretending to live a life of luxury for a week. Oh, July 8, be here already!

Charlotte Bronte is a Cow

I've been reading quite a bit lately, and I've been revisiting some books, including Vanity Fair and Persuasion. References to Persuasion have been popping up lately, so it seemed suiting to go back and reread it. It's perhaps my favorite of Jane Austen's novels, I think only because my somewhat childish romantic/martyr-like side identifies with Anne Elliot. I've posted parts of my favorite passage below, when Anne is speaking to Captain Harville about the nature of male and female sentiment, and Captain Wentworth's letter to Anne, a letter written while overhearing the aforementioned conversation. Every time I read this particular chapter, I become rather giddy.


Copied from http://www.austen.com/persuade/

"Yes. We certainly do not forget you, so soon as you forget us. It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit. We cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us. You are forced on exertion. You have always a profession, pursuits, business of some sort or other, to take you back into the world immediately, and continual occupation and change soon weaken impressions."

Captain Wentworth's letter to Anne:

"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own, than when you almost broke it eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone I think and plan.--Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes?--I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice, when they would be lost on others.--Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in
F. W.
I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening, or never."

___________________________________________________

Being a Wikipedia junkie, I read the entry for Jane Austen. I was a little shocked by Bronte's and Twain's comments on Austen. I've never been a big fan of the Bronte sisters (although I admit, I do not mind Jane Eyre), and I have a love-hate relationship with Mark Twain dating back to seventh-grade English.

Copied from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jane_Austen

Charlotte Brontë criticized the narrow scope of Austen's fiction:
"She ruffles her reader by nothing vehement, disturbs him with nothing profound. The passions are perfectly unknown to her: she rejects even a speaking acquaintance with that stormy sisterhood… What sees keenly, speaks aptly, moves flexibly, it suits her to study: but what throbs fast and full, though hidden, what the blood rushes through, what is the unseen seat of life and the sentient target of death—this Miss Austen ignores… Jane Austen was a complete and most sensible lady, but a very incomplete and rather insensible (not senseless) woman, if this is heresy—I cannot help it."

Mark Twain's reaction was revulsion:
"Jane Austen? Why, I go so far as to say that any library is a good library that does not contain a volume by Jane Austen. Even if it contains no other book."

I may never be able to watch The Wire again

Robin called me at 3am. Normally, I'd be up at 3am on a Saturday night, but this past month has been unusual in oh-so-many ways. I did not answer the phone. I called this afternoon to see what drunkeness I might have missed. Her brother, my ex-boyfriend, answered the phone. He has moved back to Arkansas from Baltimore.

We chatted for a bit, and I asked him about life in Baltimore. The stories I had been hearing from his sister were scary enough, but I wanted a firsthand account. I lead with "Oh, I hear that you lived in the same neighborhood where 'The Wire' is filmed. That's such an amazing show." I am a dumbass. Perhaps I was thinking that HBO just made the neighborhood seem scary as hell, but the residents were really actors doing a fantastic job of playing oppressed minority figures.

The ex responded with the statement that he could never watch the show again, but that if I continued to do so, I could probably see him as an extra in an episode or two. He then recounted life in the neighborhood, including the firebombing of a house with 13 inhabitants, 7 of which died. Or the shooting while he was sitting on the back porch, and making eye contact with the assailant. My 'favorite' was the story of the shooting in the middle of North Avenue, where police had taped off the crime scene, and the body was still in the street. North Avenue is a busy thoroughfare, and traffic started backing up. Apparently someone drove up to the police tape and started honking as if the body should be moved immediately.

I am not sure how I'm going to be able to watch The Wire again. Maybe my HBO will be canceled before I have to make that choice.

Notes from the Cube Farm and a Hot Dog Crisis

My aunt emailed me out of the blue today (much appreciated, Sharon!), and we started discussing the future, and whether my 30s will be more enlightening than my 20s. She told me I should write, and I've heard that in the past. I'm not great at it, but I'm not bad at it.

I've been adverse to personal blogs, mainly because one loses a sense of one's uniqueness once your random thoughts are out on the Internet. But I think Sharon's onto something, maybe writing is fine, and I can share my posts with anyone I damn well please. If some a-hole stumbles across this and mocks yet another person out there staking a claim into cyberspace, oh well.

Is it just me, or did the previous sentence sound like cyber Manifest Destiny? Scary.

The deal is this, folks. It's 2007, people read blogs. Just because I have one doesn't mean I have to pour out every little detail. But in case I die (and death being the theme of the past 1 1/2 months), at least those who cared can come here and see some part of me. When I'm old and suffering from dementia (or, quite frankly, just inheriting the family trait of a craptastic memory), I'll have this. Or killing time at work.

Onto other things:

While I should be working on a PowerPoint for the boss (no worries, it will be completed), I caught up on the AP wire. A Japanese hot-dog eating champion (29 years old) is suffering from an arthritic jaw. He can only stick one finger in his mouth before feeling pain in his mandible (why don't we use this word rather than jaw?). What kills me is this paragraph:

"Perhaps Kobayashi saw this day coming, as his blog also includes some harsh self-criticism. 'I feel so ashamed that I didn't hear the alarm bells ringing in my own body,' it says. 'But with the aim of winning the title and setting a new record in my head, I couldn't stop my training regime so close to the competition.'"

Why does a man put his body through something like that? A life defined by speed-eating hot dogs? Is this acceptable? This just makes me sad.

His blog if you're interested: http://www.takeru-kobayashi.com/