Ramblings and Blather

I love me some Cake

2007-05-16T22:42:00.000-04:00

Last Friday I headed down to Baltimore to meet up with my sis to try our luck at getting last minute tix to the Cake concert at the outdoor Pier Six Pavilion at Inner Harbor. After my fortuitous experience with snagging a ticket at the eleventh hour for Ben Gibbard's solo act (see previous post; also, catch his DC concert on npr.org), I felt my trip to Maryland would not be wasted. My sis dropped me off at the pier and I headed to the box office where I encountered a security guard who informed the concert was sold out. Unthwarted, I scanned the area for another benevolent soul who might be parting with their unused tickets (Disclaimer: I do not make it a practice to support scalpers and would never pay and have never paid anything over face value for a ticket I've purchased outside of the box office.) After 10 minutes, I knew this was a losing battle, so I decided to scout out the venue. Pier Six Pavilion sits on, well, a pier, and juts out into the harbor. Along one side of the pier, there was a narrow canal about 100 ft wide, and across the way is a hotel and pedestrian boulevard with benches lining the canal. I crossed the bridge to access the other side with the hotel to find that there's a great view of the stage;a vantage point that's even better, I think, than that for those paying patrons with lawn seats. I sat myself on the side of the canal, legs dangled over the water, and called my sister with instructions to get us some dinner & and told her we were going to picnic whilst enjoying the tunes of Cake. We dined on seafood fettuccine and tiramisu while having a grand old time singing along with the band. Quite literally, we had our Cake, and ate it too.

Resurrecting the ramblefest

2007-05-10T18:30:00.000-04:00

It took a while, but she's back. After an especially intense bout of self-diagnosed seasonal affective disorder this winter during which I spent an inordinate amount of time slumbering 'neath the duvet covers, I have decided that it's high time to spew more of my senseless prattle into the netosphere. The real inspiration for the comeback is that I wanted to ooze multitudes of love and affection for Ben Gibbard and his stellar solo act that I caught last night at the TLA. Ben is the dreamy lead singer of "Death Cab for Cutie" and the (thus far) one-time ensemble "Postal Service." I do believe I love the man. (Yes, there are one or two of us 30-somethings that are still prone to schoolgirl crushes.) He's grounded, funny, and has voice clearer than a bottle of Evian. I loved the quirky way he constantly adjusted his glasses while playing the piano for "Soul Meets Body," and how he wrote a cheat sheet of lyrics for his acoustic version of Michael Jackson's "Thriller."

I was fated to experience Ben's musical genius last night. I have known about the concert for a couple months, but as usual, didn't think to get tickets until they were sold out. Even though I was tired as hell, I decided that I would just head over and hope someone was getting rid of their tickets because they couldn't go. So there's little old me standing in a crowd of mostly college age hippy type kids looking for someone with tickets. I stand in line, ticketless, pondering just how the hell I'm going to get in when a guy asks me if I need one. I nod yes and was about to ask how much when he tells me, "It's free." Fate, I tell you.

Well, hopefully I'll have more gushing about cute singers, belly-button gazing, and wtf? moments to post into the ether as we move through spring into summer. Ta ta!

Blech

2006-10-18T16:42:00.000-04:00

Yes, I'm back. (Hi Kathy! Hee hee.) I just thought I'd share this gross little tidbit with you. The 2-3 companies on the floor of our office building all share bathroom facilities here. I suspect some gal on the floor, possibly one of our own, is purging their lunch down the toilets. It's the second time this week I walked into the first stall & saw remnants of food coating the sides of the bowl. You can imagine my instant recoil and frantic exit from the stall. Let's all say in unison: "Ewwwwwwwwwwwww." Now I hope it's just someone with a gastrointestinal ailment & that's she's treating it with some good old Pepto. However, the "intactness" of the bits of foodstuff lead me to think otherwise--and that's just nasty & plain sad. There's no need for that, darling. Especially when I have to look at it while trying to take a simple pee. I know it's a sickness and I hope she gets help, if that's indeed what happening.

And a good day to you all.

Revived

2006-10-10T11:17:00.000-04:00

It was another weekend sojourn to the nation's capital to meet up with fam (2 sisters, bro in law, niece, & cousin). We were sight-seeing fools the entire time, fitting in a few museums and monuments into our 3 days.

Sunday was the big 10 mile run I've been gearing up for--what a fabulous day for a race. After the rain on Fri. and a chilly Sat., we were oh so lucky for the sunny skies and mild temperature. The course started & ended at the Pentagon and took us over a couple bridges, along the National Mall, around the Capitol, and was gloriously scenic, rivaling the half marathon route for Philly's Distance Run. I was going to use my mp3 player for a little motivation, but was glad I left it because running alongside my cousin for the first half of the race, the cheering crowds with their cowbells, and seeing my niece at the halfway point were plenty inspiration. Whenever I felt I was losing steam, I thought of all the people out there who aren't mobile like the rest of us--the handicapped, those with crippling illnesses, etc. and it gave me an extra boost of energy to run for them. In particular, several times during the run I thought of my sister's friend who recently succumbed to cancer, an active girl who probably would have enjoyed the race course just as much I was loving it.

We ended our weekend with another trip to Annapolis. They had a boat show going on so there were a lot of people milling about. The weather was still grand and we walked around Main Street and the Naval Academy for most of the day (a good thing for my muscles as they aren't as sore as I expected to be post-run.)

I pooped out early yesterday but today I feel especially alive and renewed. There's nothing like a dose of good times with your loved ones and a completing a physical challenge--all in one weekend!

Blog Slump

2006-10-02T15:00:00.000-04:00

Haven't been posting as regularly as I do. Actually, I haven't been do a whole lot of anything lately besides prepping for my run (T minus 6 days!!) I was just thinking this morning, as I stared at a novel sprawled on my bedroom floor, about how I haven't touched a book in weeks. I've been listening to music a lot though, recycling through a bunch of old tunes, and also moving through the Netflix queue. Maybe it's the onset of autumn & the new chill in the air. Lazy October days. My mind's a of big blob of goo.

Delete Delete Delete

2006-09-27T22:29:00.000-04:00

After this evening's run, I decided to throw in some stair runs up the Art Museum steps, Rocky-style for a little variety in the exercise routine. I was really huffin & puffin up those babies. On my second go-round, I noticed a guy--vaguely cute in the nanosecond I glimpsed him--on the top of the steps with his camera poised to snap my mug as I approached the top stair. I kinda gave him a "what the heck are you doing" look as he clicked a pic of me, gross & dripping sweat everywhere. So the next time up I notice he's following my ascent up the steps with his camera as if he's filming me on video. Now I'm freaked out coz I'm looking pretty nasty from my workout and this stranger is saving my image of nastiness in motion to his camera. Perfect. My pic or vid is going to end up on some website with a black rectangle over my eyes and a caption that reads "What not to wear in public when working out & sweating profusely" or something cruel of that nature. I cut out on my next set of stairs after that and headed home. Wherever you are, museum cameraman, be a good lad now and just erase all of that episode. Would be much appreciated. Thank you, thank you very much.

Clearing the old noggin

2006-09-25T12:23:00.000-04:00

This weekend was a quiet weekend of mental detox and enjoyment of the season's transition to fall in the city. My training for the Army race (2 weeks!) is going well--I feel a massive difference from when I started weeks ago. I'm still prone to episodes of narcolepsy if I stay in my apartment too long, but in general, the energy level has definitely perked up. Despite my resolve to get some job search/life change things done this weekend--procrastination mode set in & I ended up doing it this morning. Sadly, a life change for me just can't be accomplished in a weekend. But smelling the roses can.

Ok, that was boring. But what ya gonna do?

Mecca lecca hi mecca hiney ho.

It's all about the shoes

2006-09-20T14:11:00.000-04:00

I'm not much of a brand whore--everyone likes nice things, but my frugality (thanks Mom! And that's a very sincere thanks) and that pesky necessity of paying rent every month often overpowers my desire for a cute pair of Manolo Blahniks or a $200 pair of jeans (even if they make my ass look fabulous). This mindset also extends into my choice of athletic footwear--I usually pay $50-$70 for running shoes and almost never given weight to what type of shoe is good for my foot, whether it has cushioning, if it corrects supination/pronation, etc. But a couple weeks ago I decided to get another pair and went to a place that does gait analysis (a complex way of saying that they examine the wear on the bottom of your shoes and watch you run/walk a few meters to figure out how your feet land). The guy told me I needed a little more stability and brought out a couple pairs. I tried them on before telling him my price range--which turned out for the best. The first pair, an Asics Gel model, was the priciest but by far the most comfortable and conformed to the shape of my foot. I tried a few more pairs that he brought out that were cheaper, but I was sold. And I am dizzy in love with them. I have been running in them the past week or so and it's such a difference--lightweight and bouncy. I'm thinking of buying another couple pairs to last me over the next year or two. Never never never will I skimp on running shoes again. Love your feet, peoples!!!

It's cold and there are wolves out

2006-09-14T14:10:00.000-04:00

Dreary, dreary, dull and bleary. I really need to stop being so negative. I usually can keep the negativity in check but this weather is bringing my shit down. Down, I say. But supposedly the sun will come out, this weekend! Bet your bottom dollar that this weekenddddd...there'll be sun. Just one day with a healthy dose of sunshine-delivered vitamin D and I'll be oh so fine. And I get to see my baby niece in Atlanta. A light of hope shines before me... Ok, melodrama over. Move on along, nothing to see here.

It's a conspiracy

2006-09-12T15:34:00.000-04:00

Everyone is out to get me today. Usually it's only a handful of people, but today it's them & the rest of the world. Go away, harbringers of evil. Poof! You've disappeared.

Blisters and pain

2006-09-07T21:44:00.000-04:00

It's just about one month until the Army 10-miler and my feet are all kinds of beat up from a mix of increased mileage and new shoes. That, and I just think my legs and feet are wonky. I cut my run short today when the shin pain (it's baaaaaack) started in again. Argh--I hope I don't have to live with this forever. They say shin splints are a sign of weak calves. If I start bulking up my calves more, I'll end up looking like a German weightlifter. Hotness.

Ahoy, mateys

2006-09-05T12:14:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, lil sis and I trucked on down to Annapolis, MD, a short 30 min drive from DC (or 45 min if you get lost going thru downtown.) Annapolis is of course home to the famous US Naval Academy but also boasts a quaint little downtown complete with a postcard perfect dock area and a bunch of unique boutiques and eateries lining Main Street.

The Naval Academy campus was quite impressive--well maintained with beautiful architecture and oozing with history. The cadets should feel lucky to take the chemistry courses and practice lacrosse at this place. We had to smile every time we passed the newly enrolled freshmen sporting their dress-whites all around town. (Class of 2010? I am so very old old old.)

Photo credits: Annapolis Visitor's Bureau

The weather was extremely cooperative--clear skies, mild and breezy--encouraging us to spend most of our day in Annapolis: a brunch of Eggs Florentine & a crabcake sandwich (a must-we're in MD!) in a garden patio while playing a game of Scrabble (ok, ok, "ew" is not a word, but "ducting" definitely is), a game of frisbee on one of the practice fields on the USNA grounds, and a promenade through town while enjoying homemade local ice cream. So that's how it was: a simple, but thoroughly satisfying Labor Day in a Mid-Atlantic coastal town.

Drip drip drop

2006-09-05T12:14:00.000-04:00

I feel so gross right now. I just got in this morning from DC & had to wade thru all the puddles and raindrops to get to the office. Wearing low-heeled sling-backs. And carrying 3 bags. I'm just a big, soggy mess. Blechhh.

Flat cat

2006-08-30T22:55:00.000-04:00

I just saw an unlucky feline lying dead in the street as I was walking home. I hate cats, but I don't like seeing them as roadkill either. But rats, on the other hand, I really don't mind when their mangled carcasses are run over beyond all recognition. I saw another of the nasty rodents today at Rittenhouse while there were a shitload of people congregated tonight for a concert in the park. Fucking mite-infested, belly-crawling, music-loving beast. You go away now!

My indecision...

2006-08-29T14:47:00.000-04:00

...is slowly killing my inner lifeforce.

Whole Foods Hotties

2006-08-27T20:21:00.000-04:00

This is the next in a series of my boy crazy postings (see Dr. McDreamy and my own proposed Axe Clix commercial). Topic du jour (or nuit, as it were) is the vast number of hot hot hot and most likely single (and healthy!) men that roam the produce aisles and peruse the salad bar at the Whole Foods on 20th & Hamilton Blvd. OK, I'm certain we need to insert a fudge factor of at least 50% to account for those cuties who are gay (why are all gay men so damn good-looking!!?!--it is so unfair!); nonetheless, the eye candy is exceptionally abundant over there. I randomly kept bumping into the same cute guy as I made my way thru the store (wouldn't that be great if he was stalking me??! haha!)--we entered the store at the same time, stood next to each other picking through fruit at the peach bin, were side-by side while staring at the dairy items, and even ended up checking out at the same counter (tho there was some girl between us.) I'm going to have to head over there to stock up on cage-free chicken and soy milk every Sunday evening from now on. Yowsas!

Hooky

2006-08-23T14:37:00.000-04:00

My sister from GA flew into DC last night so I decided to head down there yesterday evening to meet up with her & my other sister for dinner with the intent of returning to Philly tomorrow morning in time for work. However, there were problems with planes/trains/automobiles so she didn't end up dining with us and arrived around midnight. I decided that I'd take the next day off to have lunch with her and also enjoy an unharried evening out tonight with my best gals. I spent this morning shopping for an outfit (and doling out cash I should not be spending!) so I could pop straight into work tomorrow morning without going home to change first. Priorities, priorities. (Don't worry, I'm an excellent bargain hunter.) I feel like a schlub for skipping out on work but the chance to spend time with my sisters is well worth any negative consequences. (Well, ask me again when I'm unemployed & homeless, trolling the trash bins for dinner.) Byah!!

Note: To fend off a little of my self-imposed guilt, I did spend an hour or so writing a few cover letters for some DC jobs. So there.

Army Run: Training Update

2006-08-22T15:53:00.000-04:00

My training routine for the DC race has been, in a word, sporadic. I've gotten to the point where I can run a few miles straight without stopping, but I believe that is in large part due to the milder weather we have been experiencing. The old shin hurts every so often, but it's a duller pain, nothing like the shooting, searing sensations I used to get. I still feel like a Clydesdale stomping along the path and am longing to regain that fleet footedness I've felt in the past. Age & gravity are slowly taking their toll. Only 51 more days. Yikes! Hoo, mama.

"These are the lives you'd like to lead..."

2006-08-21T16:29:00.000-04:00

So says Fallout Boy. This weekend was spent reflecting and rejuvenating on the sand, being silly with the girls, and listening to the whishing sounds of the waves on the shore in Sea Isle City. I'm not a regular to the Jersey Shore but have been a handful of times over the past few years--this was the first time in a long while I had been to the area for reasons other than a wild last minute hankering to play a hand of blackjack in AC. I didn't realize how much city life had frazzled me as of late until I was sitting on a beach chair, getting sunburnt, and not caring one damn about all the bothersome notions and worries that typically infiltrate my mind. It was pure and heavenly relaxation that only sunshine, fresh ocean air and the presence of good people can deliver. I was even chipper at work this morning, a rare occurrence indeed. Ahhh, the simple things in life; it's all about the simple things. Yes, I'm talking crazy--once all that ocean air that's intoxicated me has flushed out my system, I'll be back to my normal bitchy self.

Parapluies de Cherbourg: It "le sucks"

2006-08-15T11:38:00.000-04:00

I enjoy watching foreign films and when I received "Parapluies de Cherbourg" (or "Umbrellas of Cherbourg") from Netflix, I was doubly pleased to find out it was a musical--Gigi, Brigadoon, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers--love them. My expectations, alas, dithered away as I watched and listened with confusion to the first scene, set in a gas station. The dialogue was performed in a style called "recitative"--no rhyming, no particular standard cadence. So very strange. I couldn't get into it--I'm used to the grand MGM-style theatrical performances filmed by US directors with lavish sets, rows of gaily dressed chorus girls, and catchy tunes. I was wondering why on earth this came up in my recommendations & I looked it up online to find out the damn thing won the Palm D'or @ Cannes in 1964 (63?). WTF? My, how tastes have so greatly changed.

"Everything is Illuminated"--not so much

2006-08-11T09:32:00.000-04:00

The first few pages of the novel "Everything is Illuminated" by Jonathan Safran Foer were guffaw-out-loud funny, they being written from the point of view of a Yiddish narrator, Alex, in awkwardly formal English peppered with colloquial idioms. "I had performed recklessly well in my second year of English at university. This was a very majestic thing I did because my instructor was having shit between his brains." But I'm barely 30 pages in and I need to put it down because it's just all over the place. After the Yid-glish intro, it went into a story about a newborn child that floated to the surface of a river after a horse-drawn cart with her parents careened into the drink. Then it described a ceremony by Jewish elders who held ceremonies to determine her fate. There was chanting and shouting and general chaos, and finally I just couldn't do it. I tried, but I think I need something with a straightforward story & sequence to process right now. I'll have to come back to it. I'm just going to rent the movie with Elijah Wood in it and finish "In a Sunburnt Country" by Bill Bryson, a hilarious account of his sojourn through the country/continent of Australia. I had to chortle when he described the unfortunate event of an Aussie Prime Minister's drowning as "The Swim That Needs No Towel." I got halfway thru a couple months ago (was reading 3 of his books at the same time and got B.B. overload even though his writing absolutely drives me to tears) and retreived it from under my bed the other day. I looked like a damn fool in the park during lunch yesterday shaking with laughter while reading it. Try it, you'll like it. Even love it.

Shout outs to some musical artistes

2006-08-08T11:31:00.000-04:00

Spent another weekend in DC with the sis and got a chockful of live music at a couple bars in the Arlington area. Friday night we chanced upon a cover performer from Delaware, Paul Lewis, at an Irish bar, Molly Malone's, He had a pretty varied repertoire--slow versions of Prince's "Seven" and Robbie Williams' "Millenium" were both nice twists on the originals. Was enjoyable, sing-a-long background noise that went well with our cold brews. Sunday night, we stopped by a joint called "Galaxy Hut," a cave of a bar/restaurant that regularly hosts live acts in its intimate space (48 bodies max). We grooved to the tunes of two alternative country acts, New Heathens from New York and June Star from Baltimore. I'm not a huge country fan, but the drums and electric guitars certainly took away the honky-tonk twang found in mainstream C/W. The New Heathens sounded a bit like 'Gin Blossoms lite' and some of the lyrics made wanna say "huh?" (I wish I could remember a sampling), but overall not bad--hell, anyone who can get up & sing in front a crowd of 15 people & act like he's playing to a stadium deserves all kinds of kudos in my book. June Star's music was by far the better of the two--the front man's voice was nice & gravelly and the lyrics were headier. I love watching bands in small settings like this because you get a chance to talk to the performers. They feel comfortable enough to share on a personal level as well. For example, June Star's lead singer suggested several times during the show that the audience should peruse the book they just bought, "Penis Pokey." It's in the format of a children's book, only it has a big hole in the middle. Use your imaginiation. (I prayed that it hadn't been used as we flipped thru it, snickering.) Anyway, another lovely sejour in DC, tunes included.

The saga ends

2006-08-04T12:40:00.000-04:00

After my last post, the pretzel guy calls later that night. I screen both calls. Then a text to meet up in the city. Then another call. I finally answer with an annoyed, "Whuuuuuuuuuuuut? I'm home already. We could have hung out earlier when I was out at happy hour." So we go back & forth: he didn't want to meet me with all my friends around, I didn't want to meet up with him alone coz of all his off-color comments, he says it's just the way he jokes, I tell him that it's funny a couple times but then girls think you're a perv, he apologizes and he'd still like to meet up & that he's coming to the city, tell him I still don't want to meet up alone--sounds like too much of a date and I'm not big on dates, he says don't think of it as a date, let's just go get coffee. I submit & tell him just to meet him at the bar around the corner from me.

Turns out he's harmless. Just a regular guy who is ready to settle down. He was easy to talk to, but he managed to interlace a series of queries that are straight from a "how to find a girlfriend" handbook. What kind of music I like, do I cook, do I like dogs, do I like sports, etc. After he asked me if I liked to cook, I asked him if he had a list of questions in his back pocket that he was working from. Sheepish grin, then he jokingly reaches back & feigns a search for the list. The only common links that surfaced were that we both liked playing Scrabble and "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon." (He gave me Vince Vaughn, I gave him Richard Gere, then I fumbled on Gene Hackman.)

He sent one final text--"thanks, had fun hanging out"--but I didn't respond. He was a nice guy, we had a good talk (interview), and I feel a little bad for poking fun and pre-judging. But I still hate dating. The end.

Slaving away in the office

2006-08-02T16:10:00.000-04:00

Latest text banter between me & pretzel boy from an earlier post (yes, I am deathly bored and have nothing better to do):

This morning:
Pretzel boy (PB): Hot enough for ya?

After no immediate reponse:
(PB): Sorry 2 bother u

This afternoon:
Moi: no worries—and yes, its africa hot out here

(PB): I was just being facisious (his spelling)

Moi: missed that—i guess facetiousness doesnt translate well to text msg

(PB): :) are we meeting up tonite?

Moi: sure—if you wanna hang out with a bunch of chicks. Brasserie on Walnut

(PB): i thought we were going out?

Moi: just come out for a drink—no one will bite you

(PB): i was kinda hoping you would :)

Moi: oh boy—u need to chill. i’m all for hanging out but first you need to stop with the innuendo, romeo

(PB): Ha ha! U love the attention! Whats the name of the place you’ll be at & what time?

Moi: It’s cute for a minute then quickly gets old. U sure u wanna meet up? I don’t think our agendas r the same

(PB): I was just havin fun!

(PB): I’m looking 4 a girlfriend, wat is your agenda? (this dude is a piece o' work)

Moi: lol-- i just wanna have a beer and wax philosophical about life

(PB): OK…now I know your* weird! (*his spelling)

ALERT, ALERT! Tall, attractive entrepreneur type. Skilled in double entendre and calling without leaving a message. Looking for a girlfriend who he can take for walks on the beach and for who he can cook 3 course meals. Can be located in Citizen's Bank Park near pretzel stand.

Guess who's doing the Army 10 miler?

2006-08-01T16:29:00.000-04:00

I have been scouring the bulletin boards at the Army 10-miler (the nation's largest 10 mile race!) website for the past couple months in the hopes that a registration slot from someone who could no longer run the race would open up since I didn't get around to signing up before the race sold out in June. My cousin is flying in from Cali to run it and had been bugging me to sign up before it ran out. Of course, I sat on it in my usualy procrastinator fashion. But today, I scored and will be running with 20,000+ others in DC come this October. Hoo-ah! I think the shin injury is healed up enough (jinx!!) for this endeavor. 67 days til race time--I need to get my butt in gear.

Clerks II: Delightful and Disturbing

2006-08-01T10:56:00.000-04:00

I finally went to see Clerks II last night now that it's playing within walking distance of my apartment at the retro Roxy Theater on Sansom St. (no need to hoof it up to Riverview, my friends!) While I've heard good things about about the movie's donkey scene that more than hints at deviant human/animal sexual relations, I must say my favorite scenes are those with Jay dancing or rubbing his bare buttocks on restaurant windows and Randal ranting about the Lord the Rings trilogy. I wasn't into the jail scene where Randal started waxing emo, but overall, the film left me a-smiling. The Quikstop duo has aged a bit, but more a decade later, they can still make me snicker like a schoolgirl.

Beware the Pretzel Vendor

2006-07-31T10:41:00.000-04:00

No matter how cute he is.

Last week a girlfriend and I ran into a very gregarious, cutie patootie hawking concessions in the parking lot after the Phillies game. He seemed pretty cool--but the pretzel-vending state in which we met him prompted my friend to ask him about his real livelihood. He proceeded to tell us about all his various money-making schemes--his legion of ATM machines (he owns a couple), selling designer jeans at discount (probably to women that wear size 0 and are battling anorexia), etc. OK, I appreciate entrepreneurs and those who are little off kilter, so I gave him my number without really thinking much about it. Oh, so very much a bad idea.

Day 0: He texts that night--good to meet you, bla bla bla. I respond in kind.
Day 1: Texts me to ask about weekend plans. Tell him I'm meeting with friends & have a wedding but to come out for happy hour (where my friends can play buffer if he turns out to be a complete meathead)
Day 3: Multiple texts to meet up. We finally talk around 10:30. He never made it to the city and is in Doylestown. Huh? Then he asks me to come out there & meet up. Doylestown? I rarely venture out of a 5 block radius of Rittenhouse--how about no?
Day 4: 10:30 call in the morning--I decide not to pick up. 10:40 call in the morning from a 215 number--looks like my friend's home phone in the city. It's not. Nope, it's pretzel boy, pretending for the first couple minutes to be my friend. But we talk for a while, and he yammers on about how nice if I was next him at the moment, that I'd enjoy being with a 6'5" guy, and so on. I tell him he sounds like he has excessive testosterone buildup. He takes that the wrong way and says I should help him out with that. This is pure entertainment. I make a mental note to never meet up with this guy alone. Even so, I "plan to make plans" to get drinks during the week. Later that night, a friend and I get home from a wedding and I text to see what he's up to--with a followup text that "this is not a booty call." He calls & my friend talks to him --he's employing his best sales skills to drum up a threesome. Oh, hell no.
Day 5: He calls from cell, then calls from his home phone at 11am on a Sunday (you already tried that trick, bubba!). Then 5:30. I ignore each call. Stop the madness! Then another text at 9:30. We are only at Day 5, remember.

Lessons learned:

Smooth talkers are good for just that: talking. (Unless you're bent on catching an STD.)
The dating scene is rife with the unstable. (Myself not excluded, mind you.)
A cute smile and a free pretzel are just simply not enough for the digits.
Stick with hot dogs at the ballgame.

UPDATE- Just got another text: "Hey cutie wanna hang out tonite?" Me: "Rough wkend, chillin tonite. Maybe happy hr Wed." Him: “Sounds good.” So I have til Wed to figure out an outrageous excuse on why we can’t hang out. Last minute secret mission out in the Middle East to snuff out the Hezbollah is my top choice for an excuse at the moment.

Mistaken Identity

2006-07-27T15:32:00.000-04:00

My mom, a doctor, often goes to medical conventions where she gets tons of free shit from all the big pharma outfits. She has promotional chotchkes galore --pens, notepads, mousepads, stress balls, clocks, & on & on--each labeled prominently with the names of drugs the companies hawk. I used a canvas bag emblazoned with the name Diflucan every so often to carry stuff until someone told me that the drug was used to treat yeast infections. But I do admit it was great fun toting my Viagra ball point pen around. Last week she gave me a USB port and an ultra-light portable mouse, both of which are a freebie score--so much more useful than a handful pens or a paperclip holder. So I was reading a blog by one of the Philadelphia Weekly writers about how a couple was suing a pharma company because their two sons committed suicide after taking Lexapro and the company never labeled suicide as a risk of taking the drug. Take a wild guess at which drug my mouse is advertising. Everyone in the office probably thinks I'm bipolar (which I guess is not beyond the realm of possibility.) I'm gonna keep using the mouse, it's oh-so-lovely and utile, but maybe I should get rid of the Valtrex paperweight (bwa ha.)

Me, You, & Dupree: Wait for DVD (yes, I know you knew that already)

2006-07-24T22:48:00.000-04:00

There were only front row seats left at the Bridge theater for "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" so we settled for "You Me and Dupree." I really wasn't expecting that much, so I guess I wasn't terribly surprised at the lame plot and I only laughed at a handful of spots. Owen Wilson's hair is a freakin mess in this movie. I wanted to pat down his mane with some hair product and tame it a little.

In need of a new blog name

2006-07-24T10:58:00.000-04:00

As usual, my originality is sorely lacking as I discovered a few weeks back when updating Google with my blogsite & randomly did a search on "ramblings and blather." The query yielded a fair number of other sites that use that very phrase in its description, specifically, this guy's journal.
Most everyone out there with a blog incessantly rambles about things most people have not a care for, but I want to update my title (tho I'll have to keep same URL for the time being) with something a little less obvious about my penchant for mindless omphaloskepsis. Some options:

Lip-Glossed Lip
A Keyboard and a Flask
Flinger of Poo

But I shall think upon it a while longer...suggestions welcome.

(Image: skullcats.com)

Netflix no longer thinks I'm gay

2006-07-19T16:11:00.000-04:00

You may remember a few years back when an email entitled "My Tivo thinks I'm gay" circulated thru the internet circles. A guy described a time when he programmed his Tivo to faithfully record "Will and Grace" every week. He then began to receive a ton of homosexual-themed movies and shows from his Tivo in response to his prime time viewing choice. A similar thing happend to me when I queued up a movie on Netflix, "Mala Educacion" (Bad Education), by renowned Spanish director Pedro Almodovar about a guy that is avenging his transvestite/junkie brother's death (the plot thickens and it gets a little more complicated), Netflix threw out a bunch of movies it thought I would like, a few of which turned out to verge on the border of outright porn. First there was the French movie with the two pseudo-lesbians and orgy finale, then there was the "coming of age" movie about two teenage boys and their summer of exploratory straight and gay sex. But I just watched my latest movie in the queue, "All the Real Girls" starring Zooey Deschanel (of "Elf" fame) and Paul Schneider, a relative unknown who I want to seek out and stalk til I'm slapped with a restraining order. Maybe I'm just moody and feeling lovelorn, but the simplicity of their hick romance was poetic. It's not action packed and the dialogue is a little slow (c'mon, they're in the middle of Podunk-nowhere) but the simultaneous relief and bliss of first kiss in the first scene felt so real and drew me in immediately. Probably best viewed with a vat of ice cream or with a group of the female persuasion.

Dr. McDreamy

2006-07-18T14:12:00.000-04:00

As always, I got my overdose of cable and DVD viewing whilst visiting the fam for my niece's birthday this weekend and watched a few episodes of the first season of "Grey's Anatomy." (BTW, I've decided that the only way to watch prime time television is after all the hype and on DVD's that have no commercials. Period.) I'm not really all into the main character--Ellen Pompeo (who played Luke Wilson's love interest in "Old School")--but maybe it's because I'm madly green with envy that she plays opposite Patrick Dempsey who has nicely aged all these years from the one movie I love and remember him from, "Can't Buy Me Love." In this 80's teen flick, he played a geek who "rents" the school's most popular cheerleader to pretend to go out with him so that he can get in with the in crowd. His popularity skyrockets but he gets a little too into himself and rapidly goes from "totally chic to totally geek" as one of the cheerleaders puts it. It all ends well (as teen flicks always do) and he and the cheerleader ride off into the sunset together on a riding lawnmower (literally). I for one am ecstatic that he's resurfaced and can't wait to see more of the modest, quick-witted, and ultra heart-throbby Dr. Derek Shepherd he plays on the show.

Photo credit: IMDB

Rehab Report

2006-07-17T16:07:00.000-04:00

So I finally went for a run last Thursday after more than a month and a half break from all high impact physical activity. Was out for about an hour, but only ran about 30 mins of it. Actually, 30 mins might be generous. The first 5-6 minutes of my run were just utter respiratory torture--I felt like I was jogging with a whale on my shoulders (or maybe that was just my fat ass, haha!). I was feeling great at about minute 15, but then the shin (which is what has been troubling me since the Broad Street Run and in runs previous to that) started acting up so I started walking. I was disheartened that my leg was still not 100%, but, with my truly idiotic hardheaded nature that refuses defeat, I ended up running another 15 mins after walking for a while. The leg feels pretty pain-free today (knock wood!), so I think I will try once more today. Baby steps, baby steps.

Dishonorable Discharge--not so much...

2006-07-10T13:09:00.000-04:00

Seems the headbutt that ZZ, Zizou, Zidane, (or even "His Futboll Hotness," if you'd like) doled out to an Italian opponent during yesterday's World Cup Final did nothing to faze the media who awarded him the Adidas Golden Ball for best player of the 2006 tournament. Cannavaro, the winning Italian captain came in a well-deserved second, taking the Silver Ball & teammate Pirlo was hailed as third best player of the WC. Ah, adieu ZZ, hopefully this honor washes out the tainted last few moments of your World Cup career.

A rather non-patriotic weekend

2006-07-06T16:13:00.000-04:00

Instead of staying in Philadelphia, the Cradle of Liberty, for the July 4th festivities, I ventured south to our nation's capital, a decent alternative venue for celebrating the holiday. However, we didn't end up doing a ton of July 4th activities and didn't even make the 5 minute walk to the river for a clear view of the fireworks, but we did poke around the whole city quite a bit. While I've been to DC on numerous occasions, it was a little different this time because we stayed at my sister's new apartment just outside of the city, and I experienced DC from a local's point of view. We walked or took the Metro everywhere and became acquainted with fun neighborhood bars and restaurants, of few of which will most likely become favorites. I was wholly excited for, and admittedly a tad jealous of, my sister who was about to discover the novelties and quirks of living in a new metropolitan city and who was about to start a brand new personal and professional life.

(Bonne chance, ma soeur! I'll be sure to make it down often enough to pester the hell out of you.)

Excessive, world-weary gay manboy brings me out of my slump

2006-06-27T20:53:00.000-04:00

Ever since the Oregon State Beavers trampled the North Carolina Tar Heels in last night's College World Series, I've been in a bit of a foul mood. Actually, that's not true. I've been a grumpster on and off for at least a good week or two now. Even that last Red Bull & vodka yesterday did nothing to raise my spirits. In fact, it only served to keep me from uninterrupted slumber last night. So I spent a good portion of the early morning hours perusing the site of my favorite unabashedly crude and so very gay jetsetting fashionista, Bryanboy, who hails from that fabu faraway archipelago. Sure, he's completely superficial, has absolutely no tact, and needs constant stroking of his overblown ego, but God, is he a freaking riot. Reading his exploits for a couple hours managed to keep me from dwelling on toxic thoughts about my crap job, wasting life away, and how I really should do a batch of laundry.

My Own Personal Axe Clix Commercial, Modified

2006-06-21T14:19:00.000-04:00

You’ve probably seen it, the Axe Clix ad in which the ex-Mr. Simpson, Nick Lachey, traipses around town going about his everyday rockstar business and keeping count of all the lovely damsels who give him a sultry look or shy smile on a handheld clicker (there’s also an old one with Ben Affleck that I prefer.) So was taking an evening power walk down Kelly Drive with Michele-Ma-Belle and decided to give clicks to all the worthy, health-conscious lads that passed us by. A click to you, sweaty blonde without a shirt. And to you, the dark Latin guy with curls. And one for you, the distinguished gentleman who probably got a lot of chicks back in the day. Two clicks each to the tall drinks of water (or tall drinks of iced coffee, as it were; it’s likely they are basketball players.) And one for you on the bike, who I’m giving a benefit-of-the-doubt-click because you were riding by too fast for me to get a solid look. I ended up with 23 ½ clicks, with the half point going to the 16 year old kid who is going to have a nice look about him in about 5 years if he keeps up his running regimen.

A little more Keane

2006-06-20T18:40:00.000-04:00

Found out from my sis the banana girl that Keane's sophomore album came out yesterday. Can't wait to get obsessive & listen to this CD over & over & over like I did with "Hopes and Fears."

Track list for "Under the Iron Sea":

"Atlantic"
"Is It Any Wonder?"
"Nothing in My Way"
"Leaving So Soon?"
"A Bad Dream"
"Hamburg Song"
"Put It Behind You"
"The Iron Sea"
"Crystal Ball"
"Try Again"
"Broken Toy"
"The Frog Prince"

Foiled yet again!!!

2006-06-20T18:32:00.000-04:00

Today I learned that the Snow Patrol concert originally scheduled for June 5th (see initial excited post), then rescheduled for June 26th (see subsequent exasperated post), has now been postponed YET ONCE MORE to September 9th. What the hell, already? By September, who the heck knows where I'm gonna be!?! I could be in another country selling cocktails in coconut shells to tourists!!! Arghhhhh...

Ava antics

2006-06-20T00:19:00.000-04:00

Rowr. Any closer, I'll claw your eyes out.

Pique-ah-bu!

Jailbait

Uh, say wha'?

Of the structural soundness of roller coasters...

2006-06-14T22:21:00.000-04:00

This subject was a matter of great and frequent interest to me this past weekend as I whiled away a Sunday with the family at Cedar Point, an amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio which rivals the likes of Six Flags and Magic Mountain. I was a hardcore acrophobe growing up--bouts of vertigo would strike whenever I looked down from even the most modest of heights. But I have since then eased out of this common phobia, as evidenced by my ability to keep my eyes open during all of the dozen or so coasters we rode at Cedar Point, Millenium Force with its quadruple corkscrews and 200 foot ascent, and 180 foot descent, the equally gravity-defying maXair, to name a couple.

And then there was the Wicked Twister. Wicked indeed. This thing was like two giant upright spiral pasta noodles joined in the middle by a straight track (we'll call it ziti.) The spirals reached a couple hundred feet up into the air & riders are shot up several times up and back over these spirals at mad silly speeds. Now the other roller coasters went just as high, but this one was special in that the tangle of girders and supports holding the uprights didn't seem to be doing their job. As we waited in line for our turn to be thrilled & chilled, I watched with growing fear as the damn thing wobbled to and fro with considerable give during and after each ride. Me: not happy for most of the wait. But I am still alive & yes, I was thrilled & chilled even after imagining my death by the crush of steel raining down from 20 stories above.

Sinking Sun, Beaming Lovers, Bawling Maids

2006-06-06T20:44:00.000-04:00

That was the stuff of this evening's walk along the Schuyllkill River with my friend Lori. Our leisurely stroll was welcomingly interrupted by a vivid tangerine sun setting against a palette of electric violets and neon pinks in the sky. This captivating sight drew us to the gazebo by the Waterworks below the Philadelphia Art Museum where we stood and watched the glowing orange orb settle into the Wissahickon trees. Below to our right, a couple had ambled down to the water's edge to enjoy samesaid view. It was Lori who noticed the man kneeling on the ground while the girl began visibly hyperventilating in disbelief at her companion's words. We stared dreamily as the telltale ring box came into view and the girl screamed, "Yes!" Applause burst forth from the dozen or so bystanders and picnickers, including Lori & me. We turned to each other and exploded with insane laughter to learn that we were both streaming a deluge of tears after watching the proposal. That beguiling sun has managed to create a memory once again.

Melted

2006-06-06T19:00:00.000-04:00

Picture it: I'm hurrying from a meeting that ended at 7:49pm yesterday evening to the Snow Patrol concert that was starting at 8pm. I'm about 15 minutes late, but I thought to me-self, that's ok, the opening band was probably still playing. As I neared the Electric Factory, the gated entrance, usually peopled with desperate scalpers and last minute concert attendees, was remarkably void of any loitering bodies or any activity in general. Odd, thought I. Approaching the concert venue, I get a bad feeling from the empty parking lot and an ominous 8" X 11" piece of paper taped to the outside doors, which upon closer inspection reads, "Tonight's performance has been cancelled and rescheduled for June 26, 2006." What if I get called on one of my secret agent missions that night? What if I have an important meeting with the President to attend?
What then, I ask you, WHAT THEN? Freaking Snow Patrol. Get on MY schedule, dammit!

Assateague Island

2006-06-03T01:46:00.000-04:00

The foreboding drip drop of rain outside shall not dampen (bwa ha) my spirits for the camping trip we've planned down in Maryland this weekend. Tomorrow, a dozen or so of us intrepid beachgoers will fumble around putting up tents in the downpour and await some relief from the wetness. While I regret I won't be able to see my niece who will only be 150 miles away (a little advance notice next time, MVal, gee!), I assure you that sitting thru a thunderstorm on a campsite is a next to decent alternative. But really, the whole affair is gonna be moist, gritty with sand, and fabulous. Ab fab.

Snow Patrol: kicking it in the summer...

2006-06-01T23:48:00.000-04:00

Just completed a mutually beneficial transaction with Tara of Manayunk that was precipitated by an ad on craigslist in which the seller (Tara) was hawking an extra Snow Patrol ticket for their show this coming Monday night at the Electric Factory. For a mere trifle, I will be standing in the crowd (trying to pay no mind that they are all a decade younger than me all the while) and swaying with satisfaction to their indie beat. The old mp3 player has been running SP's tunes ragged the past few weeks so I'm giddy, simply giddy, with anticipation at hearing them live.

"Light up, light up, as if you have no choice"

-- "Run", Snow Patrol

Hoy Hotdog!

2006-05-29T23:08:00.000-04:00

Oh lawdy. The gentle spring has abruptly given way to sticky summer. The seasonal change is not entirely unwelcome, especially now that I have the A.C. wedged (though somewhat precariously) into the living room window where it can put forth its waves of relief from the stifling heat of this third floor apartment. The sun was out in full force this weekend--I already have tan lines of varying darkness: the criss cross of sandal straps, demarcations across the thighs from shorts, and the color differential between light shoulders and brown arms. I look like a crossword puzzle, basically. It's pretty attractive. Must restock the sunblock. But, I must reiterate from previous posts, I'd rather languish in the heat any day over icy snow and sleet. Bring it on, Sun!

Disappearing into Anonymity

2006-05-15T22:13:00.000-04:00

Ever feel like up & leaving for a far-flung locale where nobody knows your name? Kinda like Jason Bourne in "Bourne Supremacy" when he's living in Goa, India before the Russian mafia offs his girl and he jets over to Europe to avenge her murder. But I digress. So yes, how about taking the life savings and hopping a plane for Madagascar to study the monkeys or teaching Korean children how to speak English? A little rash? Probably so, if you have a couple kids and a mortgage. But I don't even own a dining table. I haven't had a car in over a year. I wouldn't miss my job, that's for sure. And most importantly, I have this uncanny talent for packing light when I travel. It's a little liberating not to have any ties, but unnerving as well. Well then, meet me in outer space.

Boogey Man

2006-05-10T13:31:00.000-04:00

Last night I dreamt I heard someone walking across the living room of the apartment above (I am on the 3rd story of a 3 story building), going to his door & making his way down the steps to my apartment landing. In my dream, I am asleep but aware of this guy approaching my door & fiddling with the locks. I remember that I didn't lock the deadbolt (in reality) & start freaking out, but it's one of those dreams in which you are paralyzed and mute, incapable of movement or screaming bloody murder. This scenario repeats in a loop 3-4 times in my nightmare before I finally wrestle myself out of paralysis, wake up, & lock the door for real. At 2:45am. Slept like a baby after. I'm such a wierdo.

Self Help

2006-05-10T00:03:00.000-04:00

So last week I went to a book signing for the brilliant Augusten Burroughs, author of the heart-wrenchingly hilarious "Running with Scissors" (which, by the way, is coming out as a movie soon!!), and was cackling like a maniac while he read from his new book of short stories "Possible Side Effects." He read the piece "Moving Violations" in which he recounts his friendship with the bizarre yet endearing "Druggy Debbie." They would toil down the highway to nowhere destinations within a 100 mile radius of the dead-end Massachussetts town where they lived and search for drivers who failed to obey the rules of the road (no blinker, cutting off fellow drivers, tailgaiting, etc.) When encountering these violators, they would pass by slowly & flash blown-up cardboard cutouts of people in various deviant sexual positions (my favorite mental image: the gal with a pound of frankfurters shoved up her bunghole.)

Anyway, during the Q&A he mentioned that in one of his memoirs, "Dry," his friend Greer, who plays an integral role in the book (haven't read it yet), read "Dry" despite the fact that her only exposure to literature was perusing cheesy self-help books like "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway." Was a funny little quip that brought forth a few giggles. But what I found funnier is that I attended an evening "networking tea" (complete with scones & clotted cream!) directly after--a totally different vibe and audience--and the speaker was a professional "networking coach" who earnestly suggested reading "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway" to aid in building personal character. Tee hee. I've never heard of the book, yet I heard it referred to twice in a two hour period (albeit in two contrasting contexts.) Coincky-dink-ical. Apparently its popularity rivals "What color is your parachute?" (Mine is mauve, by the way.)

Oh and another thing...

2006-05-09T00:15:00.000-04:00

I'm spreading my yet-to-be corroborated belief that it's ok to substitute beers for pasta the night before a race as a means of carb-loading. By God, it works.

Another Broad St. Run

2006-05-08T23:22:00.000-04:00

A sampling of raving thoughts that crossed my mind during yesterday's Broad St. Run:

Starting line
Feels abso-friggin-lutely awesome outside.
Stop pushing, we're wearing timing chips!

Mile 1
I can run forever! I am indestructible! World peace is within our grasp!

Mile 2
Is that a slight incline on this famously-touted downhill sloping course? That wasn't here last year.

Mile 3
Gettin' a little warm out. I would really like to stop now.
Another incline? Liars, all of you!
Why is my chest burning and where are the paramedics?

Mile 4
Ahhhhh, where did that sudden breeze come from--there is definitely a merciful higher being! But no gatorade for you girl until you pass the halfway point.

Mile 5
"Louie, Louie! Oh baby! We gotta go. Yea yea yea!" Thank God for the bands and screaming cheerleaders on the curb.

Mile 6
Mr. Rendell, your toupee is looking fabulous.
Are those my friends over there? Sure are! Hey, over this way! It's me, the tired, sweaty gal!
Only 3.3 more miles to go, you say? Cake!

Mile 7 (a mere 0.3 miles later)
Why did I have to try to rely on myself for motivation & leave my mp3 player at home? What I'd give to hear a little "Run Lola, Run." Where's the guy that plays the Rocky song already?

Mile 8
There's no way.
Start repeating your mantra, girl: "I'm a horse, I'm a horse. I'm a leannn, longggg horse."

Mile 9
Another mile? Who measured this course? It's been incorrect for the past 27 years!!

1/4 mile left
Hallelujah! I see the finish! Sprint!

1/8 mile left
Shit, that's the photo op area, not the freaking finish line.
Is this how the onset of cardiac arrest feels?

Finish
Mommy?

White gelatinous blob

2006-05-04T13:38:00.000-04:00

How long does it take mayo to go bad in your fridge? I'll let you know soon if the answer is at the very least 8 months. Pepto...

Tiny

2006-05-02T12:44:00.000-04:00

Miniscule, fleeting, and insignificant as a dust mite set against the cosmos. That's what I feel like reading Bill Bryson's "A Short History of Nearly Everything." I'm only a hundred pages in and he's taken me from the genesis of all things atomic and particulate to the discovery of dinosaurs in an extremely engaging, and not the least bit dull, story-like fashion. Pleasingly entertaining and edifying.

Una Luna

2006-04-24T03:42:00.000-04:00

Tis been a month & then some. Lawdy. Keen on Keane at this very second. Very late. Feeling existential. Camus and I would be going at it were he of the earthly world right now. What's it all about?

Sais pas.

"Emotions keep my heart ru-u-u-ning."

Feliz cumpleanos a ti, mi hermana.

Dang!

2006-03-20T14:06:00.000-05:00

One of these things is not like the other, one of these things is not the same. One of these things is doing its own thing, it's time to play our game!

1) sunny California
2) me, happy
3) rain

3, you say? Ding! Ding! Ding! Good job, Punjab!!!

Springtime harkens...

2006-03-08T18:06:00.000-05:00

It is about that time of year when my daily mood improves one hundred fold. Yes, lovely spring. Light sweaters & blooming flowers. Time to put away the scarf and gloves and get out the running shorts. Me likey likey.

525,600 minutes

2006-03-02T23:16:00.000-05:00

I measure a year in...

hits on the snooze button
visits with my family
cute footwear purchased
gut-busting laughs with my sisters
stamps in the passport
leisurely meals with good friends
outdoor runs in the sun
the length of a soulful song

Face Value

2006-03-01T02:13:00.000-05:00

Isn't it slightly irksome it when people think you're thinking much more than you really are thinking? When did it become so de rigeur to be transparent? Why can't I just be my shallow self & have people accept me for it, dammit? There are no varied facets to my personality that must be brought to light nor are there any latent desires or fears that need to be surfaced. I kinda just like to make a fool of myself at will and not take anything too terribly seriously. Is that so wrong?

Missed Callings

2006-02-27T21:28:00.000-05:00

In the words of Dave Matthews, "Could I have been anyone other than me?" And the answer is...hells yeah.

10) Macaroni sculpture artist
9) Cocktail server at a resort in Mauritius (daily attire: bikini & SPF 30)
8) Dive master in Costa Rica
7) Commercial jingle writer
6) Chief Designer & Owner, specialty underwear conglomerate
5) Restauranteur--serving downhome Filipino fare
4) Non-event coordinator (14th wedding anniversary, Happy Vasectomy Day, "I just got fired" Happy Hour...)
3) Interior decorator for the celebrity set
2) Globe-trotting travel journalist, i.e., a female Rick Steves that ventures outside of the European continent (Lisa Ling took my job, that bitch!)
1) B-list rock star. I would name my band "Mala Alma," or "Bad Soul"

Retraction

2006-02-19T18:38:00.000-05:00

Uh, nix that last entry. This weekend has been unbearably, numbingly frigid. Father Winter continues to mess with me.

You so wrong!

2006-02-16T09:48:00.000-05:00

That groundhog predicted 6 more weeks of winter. It is going to be 58 degrees today. I am tickled ecstatic. Just tickled.

Accumulation

2006-02-12T08:18:00.000-05:00

The snow has reached almost a foot outside. As much as I despise the cold, the falling snow is very picturesque, a slow-moving Eakins painting. The salt trucks haven’t yet marred the undisturbed sidewalks, with only a few tracks in the street from one or two cars and a few intrepid early morning winter storm fanatics traipsing through the white-washed city. Not sure why I’m up this early—it was another late night. (Actually, some busybody shoveling their sidewalk at 7:30 may have something to do with it.) I did get most of my deep sleep yesterday from 12pm to 4pm, so maybe I’ll tire down around noon. But I am feeling overcome with a childlike urge to go out & build snow women and igloos as I watch the drifting flakes through the window pane. Where are my gloves???

Precipitation

2006-02-11T18:34:00.000-05:00

Lounging on a gold velvet love chair in La Va, a quaint new cafe on 21st and South St. The thrift store-chic decor and wafting aroma of La Colombe coffee make for an inviting backdrop to the onset of the blizzard of 2006 through the windows lining the perimeter of the cafe. Am sipping on a spiced chai latte & readying myself for a quick read through a couple chapters of the latest book gracing my night table these days, Bill Bryson's "The Lost Continent." It's laugh out loud hilarious, btw. Feeling warm & fuzzy in spite of the winter storm unfolding before me.

Ta ta!

And so life moves on along...

2006-02-09T17:15:00.000-05:00

Whoa, it's been a while since I've served out a plateful of mindless chatter on this here blog. So, let me make haste in remedying the situation.

Since the last post, I have added yet another tick mark to the number of birthdays I have been blessed enough to witness thus far. The actual numbers are getting to be an annoyance to report, but otherwise, I feel quite alright with my "ripening." Punxatawney Phil saw his shadow on my natal day for the 96th (97th?) time in his history of weather prognostication. Damn you, Phil.

Shitty weather & aging aside, it is crazy how I am giddy with optimism for life and the future. Sure, not everything is sunshiny rainbows and pleasures, but I have never been so damn content with life. It's been so liberating to realize that there are things you can just choose not to worry about. I think I've gone off on this tangent once before, but ah well. It's not a bad thing, eh? Unless it's all delusional. I am a bit lacking in the sanity arena, so that's probably not altogether too far off!

Bla bla bla yes, I know it's all terribly boring, this senseless mushy mush! But, I must say, life is indeed good.

I am so LOST

2006-01-25T14:07:00.000-05:00

Let me correct myself, I am so INTO "Lost." As in the TV series about the stranded survivors of a freaky plane crash. I don't have cable so a friend & I rented the first DVD of the first season DVD's and immediately became hooked--we went thru & watched those 24 episodes like junkies on a smack binge (slight reference to one of the "Lost" characters, the defunct rocker, Charlie). It's like "Survivor," "X Files," "ER," and "The O.C." (for the pretty people factor) all rolled into one. I'm not really one to schedule my life around TV shows, but I've been really drawn into this one despite the occasional cheese factor & cliche'd characters (strong, handsome doctor who becomes the leader, the tough, beautiful female character with a mysterious past...etc...) I've reverted back to when I faithfully caught every episode of "Melrose Place," long, long time ago. Saddddd. But I still loves my island castaways!!!

Life is a Sine Wave

2006-01-25T13:57:00.000-05:00

Hills / valleys, peaks / troughs, neutral turning points. It's interesting how much easier it gets to navigate the sudden twists & changes of directions as you get on in life. Just my introspective little thought for the day.

Post Non-Drinking Stint Summary

2006-01-13T13:59:00.000-05:00

Tried a wacky personal challenge during the 2005 holidays: no alcohol throughout the holiday season, starting Thanksgiving, ending New Year's Eve. The following are some key results/take-aways:

Pros:
1. Tolerance has dropped a couple notches (read: cheap date)
2. Newfound appreciation for Diet Pepsi (was hardcore Diet Coke purist) and black tea (preferred green tea before)
3a. Didn't have to constantly refill the beer inventory in the fridge (it's a bitch trudging up 2 flights of stairs with a case of suds)
3b. Still have a full bottle of ibuprofen (handfuls of which were typically popped as a pre-emptive strike against a raging hangover)
5. Skimmed a couple pounds off the pot belly

Cons:
1. Tolerance has dropped a couple notches (read: cannot form full sentences after drink #2)
2. Have discovered there are a few people who are tolerable only when I am drinking
3. Could not enjoy the effects of beer coat during the cold nights

On the whole, there were a lot more positives than negatives, so I think it was a useful and healthy experiment in social alcoholism. It's good to be able to partake of the drink these days--I still think I have the tendency to overdo it, but I think I may have pared back on the frequency. Moderation. Willpower. Growth. Yea, right.

"Outsiders" Flashback

2006-01-11T13:33:00.000-05:00

Remember little Ralph Macchio & the guy that played Ponyboy (I forget his name) in the film adaptation of S.E. Hinton's "The Outsiders," that staple on the reading lists of 8th grade literature classes? Was chatting with a friend over a glass of wine last night and as we were looking at the Rittenhouse park scene outside the restaurant, it sparked a memory of that part where Ponyboy reads that Robert Frost to Ralph's character, Johnny:

"Nothing Gold Can Stay"

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

-- Robert Frost

My friend and I were discussing how nice all the holiday lights looked in the park trees (see previous post), but I started thinking about how cheesy the sight of them would become if they were up all year. Everything inevitably just gets tired & old. The cold is bringing on the cynicism. (Acutally, the weather has been extremely fair these past few days, supposedly 60 F tomorrow!)

Trying to stay gold...& out of the cold...

I like [insert fruit of choice]...

2006-01-05T20:26:00.000-05:00

...persimmons!

You thought I was going to say GRAPES, didn't youuuu? Grapes give me ghastly incontinence which often leads to my wallowing about in my own feces. Wot tha deuce?!?#@

Bwa ha ha!

Zoom, zoom, zoom

2005-12-23T23:49:00.000-05:00

In keeping with the winter weather theme of my blog as of late, I present below, a winter song. In spite of its title, this song makes me feel warm...especially when sung by an all-male choir. I can just picture a small group of bearded men in suspendered leggings, knee-high boots, and peasant shirts sitting in an snow lodge and toasting wooden mugs of hard cider.

Hear it here.

Hanover Winter Song Music by Frederic Field Bullard, Words by Richard Hovey

Ho, a song by the fire; Pass the pipes, pass the bowl.
Ho, a song by the fire With a skoal, with a skoal.
Ho, a song by the fire; Pass the pipes with a skoal,
For the wolf-wind is wailing at the doorways, And the snow drifts deep along the road,
And the ice gnomes are marching from their Norways, And the great white cold walks abroad.

REFRAIN:

But, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here, we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows;
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship.
Oh, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha, we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows.
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship, Of fellowship

Pile the logs on the fire; Fill the pipes, pass the bowl.
Pile the logs on the fire With a skoal, with a skoal.
Pile the logs on the fire; Fill the pipes with a skoal,
For the fire goblins flicker on the ceiling, And the wine witch glitters in the glass,
And the smoke wraiths are drifting, curling, reeling, And the sleigh bells jingle as they pass.

REPEAT REFRAIN

Oh, a God is the fire; Pull the pipes, drain the bowl.
Oh, a God is the fire; With a skoal, with a skoal.
Oh, a God is the fire; Pull the pipes with a skoal,
For the room has a spirit in the embers, Tis a God and our fathers knew his name,
And they worship'd him in long-forgot Decembers, And their hearts leap'd high with the flame.

And heigh ho the holly...

2005-12-23T00:58:00.000-05:00

...this life is most jolly. Spent the last couple nights out & about in the city, bracing & braving the cold. (I'm fighting these winter blues head-on, baby!) It's a wonder how just a few Christmas lights can change your whole mood. Last night's air was pretty damn brisk, but for some reason I chose to hoof it home rather than escape the biting winter chill in a taxi. I took a detour from the most efficient route back to the apartment and strolled through Rittenhouse Square, smiling at the mulitcolored spheres gracing the park trees and watching them wink back at me. I could even ignore the rustling of the rats in the park shrubs for a few moments so as to take in the simple beauty of the towering evergreen tree, center square, with its sole decor of soft white lights.

But I still hate winter. So bah!

Slothhhhhhh

2005-12-18T20:50:00.000-05:00

No, I'm not referring to the loveable beast from "The Goonies," but rather my own lacadaisical nature as of late. Today, I didn't venture out of the apartment once and have only gotten up twice or thrice to use the bathroom. It's somewhat liberating to sit here and bask in my pure and utter indolence. I'm snacking on sinfully decadent choco bonbons because they are the only form of sustenance within a two foot reach of where I'm lounging in my living room watching PBS. Slowly, I'm working up the energy to find my cell phone and call Pete's Pizza for something to nosh on, but this giant squid special keeps drawing me in. This crazy guy has seen the first live giant squid 150 ft underwater somewhere in the Australian deep. Un-friggin-believeable. This type of public television entertainment is second only to the "Moonlight Serenade with Carly Simon on the Queen Mary II" that sucked me in for a couple hours earlier.

Owie, stomach pangs. Call 911 if I don't post a new blog in the next couple days.

Color me freaking freezing

2005-12-15T00:51:00.000-05:00

Winter is my nemesis. My tropical blood is screaming for an escape from this arctic hell. It is an uber-pain in the patookas to have to think about whether I have enough layers on to prevent me from passing out from hypothermia each time I have to leave the apartment. I am in serious need of a beach this very moment. I am going to sit here and think thoughts of Africa. At high noon. Me sitting on black asphalt. In sweatpants.

Vegas, baby, yea!

2005-12-09T01:48:00.000-05:00

Arrived in Sin City a couple days ago courtesy of a plane ticket from Doc, Jr. As many times as I have been to LV, this is the first occasion I have bypassed the blackjack table and instead, gone to a show. Last night, we witnessed the fantastical world of Cirque du Soleil’s “Mystere.” I love C. du S. and have seen “Quidam” in Houston and “Dralion” in Philly, but this Las Vegas performance was by far the best of the three. The Vegas budget and customizable theater/stage really allowed the show directors to have a free-for-all with the set, costumes, etc. No detail was ignored, from lighting, backdrops, revolving stage, sinking stage, hair, makeup. ..& on & on. The variety of the acts was incredible: they interspersed painstakingly choreographed acrobatic numbers involving the full cast with elegant dance duets spotlighting scantily clad performers. For a laugh, they threw in the occasional comic bits.

My favorite act starred a homoerotic contortionist / gymnastic / strength performance by a male duo; one was built like Mitch Gaylord in American Anthem, but flexible as a lithe 90-lb gymnast, the other, a Dolph Lungren lookalike and double-jointed as all hell. The positions they were able to put their bodies in were unbelievable and required some serious muscle, rubber limbs, and grace. My words do no justice to the twosome's piece.

Anyway, I’m still somewhat on Eastern time (even though day & night in Vegas are sometimes one and the same), so I’ll take my leave as 5am EST approaches.

Rejuvenation

2005-12-04T00:45:00.000-05:00

Has been much too long, mes amis. After an extremely relaxing, shamelessly indulgent (food-wise!), and warmly familial Thanksgiving, I have been steadily swept into the holiday bustle of the city. Sparkly lights, the ubiquitous tinkle of Yuletide carols, and… the dratted cold and snow. But I do so love the holidays despite my aversion to dreary winter weather. The spirit of the season and recent renewal of my baptismal vows during my niece’s baptism inspired me to attend mass this Sunday morning at the Basilica. Even though I have been in the cathedral countless times, the grandeur of the dome with its ornate décor of vaulted rosettes in gold-trim and the majestic marble pillars flanking the altar always render me awestruck each time I enter. The choir sounded appropriately heavenly, its four-part harmony lightly resonant on our welcoming ears. I know I must sound so very provolone, but I found much to be grateful for during those quiet moments in the Basilica.

"...In the City"

2005-11-20T18:06:00.000-05:00

Just a shout out to my girls: Had brunch this morning with my Lebanese (haha) friend, my Indian biatch, and the lovely chiquita banana. We were rolling on the floor as we compared our lives to the gals in the "Sex in the City." We were able to match our four personas quite well to one of each of the characters of Carrie, Miranda, Samantha, and Charlotte; however, that was where the similarities ended. Our beds have been pretty barren and the pickins out there slim, hence, if we had our own little sitcom, it would be titled, simply, "...In the City." (Title courtesy of my Lebanese girl.)

The Aftermath of a Gala Event

2005-11-20T17:36:00.000-05:00

So I got to play dress-up yesterday evening and don a cutesy holiday dress for an alumni affair at the Pyramid Club. It was quite a sight seeing my former classmates and friends dressed to the nines. We were a pretty sharp bunch, if I do say so myself--gorgeous and/or debonair, the lot of us. We started with the requisite cocktails around 7pm--the dirty martinis and cosmopolitans flowed copiously, however I opted for the staid Dewar's and water.

Soon after, they corralled us like super-decked-out cattle into the main dining area. Our little group was separated and we were spread out over about 25 tables to network with the older, wiser, more distiguished guests. My date, an old college girlfriend of mine, and I chatted with the diners on the left while to my right, two vapid post-undergraduate gals whined about their distaste for the spinach in the salad and the asparagus garnishing the main course. I was ready to knock them over the head with my wine glass as one of them went on and on about the guy she was dating (and who was obviously playing games with her from the sound of it) while the other commiserated and encouraged her friend's senseless blabber. But the fine meal of filet and prawns (huge, mutant prawns, biggest I've ever seen in my life), coupled with a few glasses of chardonnay, curbed my violent urges.

Apres le diner, we settled down on some comfy couches overlooking the Philadelphia skyline and made funny talk amongst ourselves. I was still marveling at how fabulous everyone looked. 11pm rolled around and the older crowd started calling it a night. A few of us young-uns, however, headed to Continental for some drinks. Half of our group called it quits after a half hour, leaving my date, my other girlfriend, and myself to hit the Bard's for a last beer and a game of darts. We got home around 2am, slept around 3am after watching a portion of "The Thomas Crown Affair."

This morning, I am rudely awakened by my alarm at 7:45am. I remember that I have an 8K run at 8:30am this morning. Snooze 1 to 8am. Snooze 2 to 8:09am. Finally I rise out of bed only to find my place has been transformed into an absolute pigsty--high heels and party dresses strewn on the floor, tubes of lipstick and mascara lining the coffee table, half-empty bottles of water scattered in different parts of the room, and endless other detritus all over the apartment. Sighing, I wash my face, put on some sweatpants and head out, still reeking of alcohol, to the race, which thankfully, starts at the Art Musuem, 5 minutes from my apartment. About 47 minutes later, ready to puke and positive I have injured my right leg for life, I finish that damn race. Boy, I'm getting too old for this. Ah me, fun fun fun.

Office Nonsense Tally, Vol. 4

2005-11-16T18:02:00.000-05:00

Mon: A co-worker introduces me to the fantastically entertaining world of online chess (games.yahoo.com). This will prove a lifesaver during the frequent periods of doldrums throughout the week. I win the first game by forfeit--my opponent wisely sees his inevitable demise and bows out. Game 1: Moi.

Tues: Half day--Get beaten at chess. Game 2: Dude 2 cubicles across the way wins. Sneak attack by a rook and that dratted Black Queen.

Wed: A solid day of chess-playing.
Game 3: Another forfeit. Me: 2, Bunghole: 1
Game 4: I resign, 2nd loss. Manager comes by as I am contemplating whether I should castle or get my Queen out onto the board. Me: 2, Bunghole: 2
Game 5: A resounding win for me. Down by a couple pawns, a bishop, and knight, I manage to trap the White king with a rook and my Queen. Me: 3, Cubicle boy: 2.

Thurs: Off

Fri: Another hung over Friday (surprise, surprise--this time it was due to one too many dart games @ the bar.) * Chess Game 6: I lose. Me: 3, Cheese Ball: 3. A draw!* Our genius IT guy introduces "Btunes," a shared space on the internal company server with a shitload of songs. Spend an ungodly number of hours downloading my favorite tunes onto the server. Yee haw. I can now disappear into my own little world of music (in a cubicle)... * Try to convince my co-workers to move beyond the same old tired Noche or Drinker's Pub for post-office-hell drinks, to no avail. Damn kids.

Monopolies Blow

2005-11-10T16:47:00.000-05:00

All I want is to be able to boil a pot of water on the stove to make some pasta, is that so wrong?

Philadelphia Gas Works, however, seems bent on depriving me from cooking gas. After two previous failed attempts in weeks prior to show up during the scheduled 4 hour window, I finally meet up with the gas man this afternoon. He spends a couple minutes checking out the valves & piping to my gas range and declares it a hazard, refusing to turn on the gas--apparently the existing valving is unsafe and must be upgraded. I guess that means the poor bastard tenants before me were cooking in extremely treacherous conditions--woo hoo, lucky me they caught it after all these years. What a crock of shit. It's just another way for these crooks to schedule yet another customer visit billed @ $80/hr.

So I must wait another 1-2 weeks to be able to scramble a damn egg. I am so getting tired of the Nutrigrain bars and microwave popcorn for dinner. Damn you, PGW!

Thursday Morning Fridge Inventory

2005-11-10T10:25:00.000-05:00

Was feeling a bit hon-gray this fine morn and opened the refrigerator to root through its contents for a morsel or two, only to discover the following (hardly the makings of any type of substantial repast):

tub of Land o' Lakes butter
Reese's peanut butter cup
18 eggs
5 large bulbs of garlic, still encased in original mesh packaging
half-empty jar of pickle spears
near-empty jar of cocktail tomolives
14 bottles of beer (on the wall!)
dijonnaise
soy milk
chilled bottle of Bombay Sapphire
can of tuna

Lawdy, I am worlds away from a life of domestication and it's a freaking riot--I love it.

Office Nonsense Tally, Vol. 3

2005-11-07T20:13:00.000-05:00

Monday: A day full of pure, utter nothingness. Went through every single one of the 261 new pictures of my neice that my sister recently posted online. Twice. * Caught up on personal email correspondence.

Tuesday: 1/2 day. Made some calls asking some old retired fogies if they wanted to work for some beat Southwestern firm in the middle of East Buttfuck. Managed to convince 3 or 4 of them that it was a worthwhile deal. Suckers. * Take lengthly midafternoon break despite it only being a half day.

Wednesday: Manager comes by whilst I am making a list in Excel of bars with their addresses & happy hour specials. The idiot thinks its the latest billing numbers. Feeling generous, I forward this invaluable list to my coworkers. I finish the day with a proud sense of accomplishment.

Thurs: Off

Friday: Sit through a tortuously boring Friday morning made slightly more unbearable due to hangover-induced headache. * Perk up before lunch after learning I will no longer have to work with my dimwitted manager and am now partnered with one of the business development execs and the CEO. * Leave work early to throw all my dirty clothes in the closet in preparation for the cocktail hour I'm throwing later in the night @ my place.

Office Nonsense Tally, Vol. 2

2005-10-31T23:24:00.000-05:00

Monday--*Long lunch with some buddies. *At the urging of my manager, write a beautiful phone script extolling the virtues of the company for use in sales calls to drum up more business. Make mental note to fully intend to never use it.

Tuesday--Half Day: *Find ways to avoid making stupid sales cold calls to people at companies who will never call us back: Looking at pictures of my niece, ordering gas service for the apartment (50 mins on hold, those fuckers!), 3 separate trips to the snack machine.

Wednesday--*Change the colors of the bars in a bar graph from pink and purple to green and blue. Consider using 12pt Helvetica font for the legend rather than that tired, old 10pt Times New Roman.

Thursday--Half Day: *Come in to find my computer & belongings transported to the prairie dog cubicle farm in the other part of the office. Spend 2 hours throwing out some other lady's files and various personal items from my new cubby hole. *Probably the most work-intensive 4 hour period this week: spent 15 minutes locating/printing/collating 10-12 documents for which, I find out later, my shit-for-brains manager already had copies.

Friday--*Stroll in 45 mins late (happy "hour" on Green St. the night prior inevitably morphed into an all night boozefest.) *Take two hour lunch to get some grub into my belly in the hopes that it will soak up the remaining liquor in my system. Almost spew the first bite onto the waitstaff. *Blow off my manager to do some more interesting work on the company's sales strategy with a senior partner. "Sorry, can't make that hair appointment for you just yet, I need to help find out from where the next $1 million in company revenue is coming." Her hatred grows, I feel it. I anticipate being fired very soon.

If 1 Beer Kills 10 Brain Cells...

2005-10-30T11:18:00.000-05:00

I have (-)1,060,570 brain cells left. I am a living miracle.

Yum

2005-10-25T23:09:00.000-04:00

In this town known for its crazed sports fanatics, I am alas an anomaly with no real loyalty to any of the home teams. But tonight I got my first glimpse of the Sixers' Kyle Korver. Hoo mama. Go Sixers.

A Victim to Statistics

2005-10-25T12:40:00.000-04:00

In a previous post of mine, I somewhat scolded our government for the apparent lack of concern with which it was regarding the victims of Katrina, for which the casualty count was purported to soar into several thousands.

Everyone says we should all be wary of numbers, stats, and the weighty opinion of "experts," but I was reminded of the need for prudence when making judgement based on numbers after reading the book, "Freakonomics," which turns many of our conventional beliefs about crime rates, quality of education, and cheating completely topsy-turvy.

I still don't know what the exact number of the death toll was from Hurricane Katrina, but a 9/21/05 article on CNN.com, http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/09/21/katrina.impact/, approximates a number of 1,033 as of that date, a ten-fold difference from the forecasts directly following the natural disaster.

Last Week's Office Nonsense Tally, Vol. 1

2005-10-24T08:49:00.000-04:00

Monday

4+hrs spent paying bills, looking for furniture online, taking/making personal calls
Maxiumum number of active IM conversations at one time: 3
Longest continuous IM session: 2 hrs
Potty breaks: 1 (would be more, but I like to avoid public restrooms)
# times caught by manager IM'ing & surfing: at least 4
# of 20+ minute breaks to move my friend's car which was parked in 2 hr zones all day: 4
Total amount of actual work done in an 8 hr day: half hour

Tuesday (half day)

Cumulative time spent bullshitting live w/ coworkers: 1 hrs
Maxiumum number of active IM conversations at one time: 3
# of 20+ minute breaks to move my friend's car which was parked in 2 hr zones again: 1 (got a $20 ticket--damn you, Philadelphia Parking Authority!)
# times caught by manager IM'ing & surfing: 1 (was only a 1/2 day, mind you)

Wednesday

Lunch break: 2.5 hrs
Starbucks break: 30 mins
Moving the car: 4 times (another ticket--for a bullshit reason, I'm fighting that one)
Work done: very little
IM'ing/surfing: very much

Thursday & Friday: Went outta town

A fruitful week indeed!!!

Social Experiment

2005-10-13T23:40:00.000-04:00

Despite all my previous bitching, sometimes this part-time job thang is just plain amusing. Because of the high turnover and previous turmoil at this company, I'm sure there are side bets being had about how long I'll stay. In turn, I am starting my own little experiment on how much blatant screwing around I can do before getting reprimanded, or even fired. I'm going to take a running tally of how many times I get caught by my manager IM'ing friends or sending personal emails and strive to best each weekly record. Truth is, I'm pretty honest with my manager about how bored I usually am, which happens often. (And for the record, just because you give me tons of monkey shit work to do, that does NOT alleviate the boredom.) So I'm working on the shift from glorified secretary to superstar office woman...else, I'm going to have bring in a dead fish to the office & start gutting it on my desk during mid-morning break.

Another Book Report: "Fraud"

2005-10-04T02:08:00.000-04:00

Reading David Rakoff's collection of satiric essays, "Fraud." His writing is reminiscent of the sardonic wit of David Sedaris from "Me Talk Pretty One Day" fame (one of my personal favorite humorists.) He takes the quotidien & transforms it into gut-busting sarcastic commentary, not unlike Seinfeld, the show that manages to entertain though it's about nothing at all.

A couple times in the book, Rakoff makes mention of his good friend David and wouldn't you know it, in the credits and final thank you's, Rakoff offers heartfelt thanks for Sedaris' unwavering belief...blah blah blah...in Rakoff's abilities. The literary circles are miniscule spheres indeed.

"Fraud." Read it. It's bound to elicit more than a few chortles out of you.

A Breather At Long Last

2005-10-04T02:01:00.000-04:00

After several months playing the part of the vagabond, I have finally settled into a place of my own for at least the next year. The summer has been chockful of activity with three moves out/in of three apartments, the churning out of a new business model for our company, the birth of a new niece (the penultimate highlight!), and my continued attempt to hold onto the carefree stream of inebriation I enjoyed as a graduate student (I daresay I have a firm grip on this one.) While most may view my recent life choices as regressive, (living alone in an rented apartment, no plans for a family or marriage, shunning a real job to struggle through an entrepreneurial venture), I feel so in control while wading through the vicissitudes of this scaled-down lifestyle. Believe me, I am far from being 100% content with everything about the status quo, but I must say I am happily soaring in the 90th percentile.

A Slight Chill in the Air

2005-10-02T11:06:00.000-04:00

While I do enjoy fall, it is a sad reminder that winter is nigh. Name that seasonal tune:

a) "You know the preacher loves the cold..."

b) "Funny how my memory trips looking over manuscipts of unpublished rhyme, drinking my vodka and lime..."

c) "Hair is gray and the fire is burning..."

On Cubicle Life

2005-09-27T18:01:00.000-04:00

Recently took a part-time job to provide some semblance of organization to a harried executive (read: doing brainless shit she doesn't want to do) so that I can help defray my drinking expenses until our company makes billions, or even better, MILLIONS, of dollars. After being in this environment again for just a couple days, I forgot just how much I office life bugs the living shit out of me. Granted, it's definitely my fault for sacrificing the chance to work a gig that's a little more mentally taxing and instead choosing this place for its flexible schedule and prime location (5 minutes away from the apartment--gotta love it.)

BUT, I still feel I must vent. It is just scary how many businesses out there are just seething with worthless pools of human incompetence and indolence. Enough with the voluntary idiocy already, learn how to change the settings so that your document can be printed on legal paper! It's 2005, you fool! If you choose to waste a precious 30 seconds to point out an error that would take you 3 nanoseconds to correct yourself, you cannot fault me for thinking you a gormless twit. I will look at you with a sweet smile as I hand you my TPS report, all the while envisioning your death by evisceration, Hannibal-style.

Talk to me in a month to see if I made it past the first paycheck.

"Hold the Wheel and Drive..."

2005-09-24T15:51:00.000-04:00

Have been obsessed lately with an Incubus song from a few years back, "Drive"--it has been on continuous play on my mp3 player (courtesy of my favorite simian, nannermonkey) for a while.

"And if I decide to waiver my chance to be one of the hive
Will I choose water over wine and hold my own and drive?

It's driven me before and it seems to be the way everyone else gets around.
Lately I'm beginning to find that when I drive myself my light it is found."

Pretty relevant for me these days...which I guess owes to my obsession with the tune. That, & it took me a while to get the melody for the stanzas right. I think I could karaoke it like a champ now tho. Hardee har.

Milestones

2005-09-21T21:47:00.000-04:00

This past Sunday, it was me and another 10,000+ runners that took to the Philly streets with our fleet feet (well, some with more flight than others) for the Jefferson Distance Run. It was a memorable race for me, it being my first half-marathon (13.1 miles, baby) with the weather just perfect and with a picture postcard course through downtown and around Fairmount Park's scenic West River and Kelly Drives. I've run in quite a few races, but none as long this, and I know I'll look back on this particular one often, to revel again in those moments (2 hrs and 8 mins, to be exact!) that I felt so alive, healthy, and so content with the world. The final approach to the finish line, with the majestic Philadelphia Museum of Art in full view, will be a memory I will no doubt conjure up with a smile for years to come.

Musings on some Recent Reads

2005-09-14T22:27:00.000-04:00

Read Dan Brown's "Angels and Demons" a couple weeks ago, a made-for-Hollywood followup to his widely popular "DaVinci Code." A decent enough plot, but I guess I would have rathered waiting for the movie. The pat way in which the protagonist (a ruggedly handsome--of course!, middle-aged Harvard professor with expertise in the ancient Illuminati cult that has suddenly resurrected itself and is terrorizing the Catholic Church in the 21st century) ends up saving Vatican City from imminent disaster was, shall I say,...a little too formulaic. Not only is this hero a pseudo-Jesus figure that saves the Catholic religion from complete disintegration, the novel ends with his bopping the attractive, brainy marine biologist/nuclear physicist who assisted him in fending off the bad guys during the entire crisis. Warner Brothers is no doubt peeing their pants to get this on the big screen. 2006 or 2007, look for it. Mark my words.

On the other hand, my sister's risk at the bargain buy ($3.98!) "L'heure Verte," or "The Green Hour," was a winner. I actually haven't finished it, but I was enamoured with the bicoastal settings of New York and Paris and the main character's indecision between settling with Mr. Perfect (the confident, attractive, wealthy Eric, who lacks that certain "something" to really move her) and her soul mate, an idealistic wanna-be revolutionary who thrives on transience and the unknown. I completely identify with Dominique, with her transparent facade of strength, who knowingly self-inflicts drama and unhappiness on herself. Never want what you can have, spaketh they. An interesting note, "The Green Hour" refers to the Parisian equivalent of happy hour when poets, artists, lovers, and young idealists toasted to life with absinthe (illegal in the US), the mildly hallucinogenic licorice-flavored liquor, also know as "La Fee Verte," or "The Green Fairy." Watch "Eurotrip" for an extremely sickening scene involving the intoxicating spirit. By the way, having imbibed this particular liquor whilst on a recent trip to Paris, I can say its effects are verily overrated. That, or they gave us stupid Americans some worthless watered-down version (not an entirely unreasonable assumption.)

Good Riddance, Blog Spammers!!!

2005-09-14T13:04:00.000-04:00

I was able to activate the anti-blogspam option on my blog--those of you with smart-ass comments will now have to be inconvenienced by verifying a word each time you post, but hey, small price to pay to avoid sifting thru inane spammer comments. If you haven't noticed from my previous posts, I absolutely ABHOR blogspam. Much more than I detest fungus, even.

Evil Footwear

2005-09-13T20:14:00.000-04:00

As I tend to my bloody blister which was brought on by some idiotic desire to exhibit a slight sense of fashion with some sexy, yet excruciatingly painful, snakeskin heels, I recall an episode in "Sex in the City" when Carrie walked 80 blocks (or something ridiculous like that) in some strappy Manolo Blahniks stillettos. Bullllllshit, I say. In real life, she would have been rendered crippled at block number 12.

Today I chose to break in my new heels. After about 5 blocks, blisters were forming in full force. Tinges of pain continued to plague my feet another 10 blocks later. When I finally stopped and removed my lovely new shoe from my left foot to inspect the damage, a flap of skin stuck to the shoe and was ripped away from the wound. Mother of pearl, it was flippin' hurt city! AND a nasty graphic image. I must have been a sight as I hobbled unevenly down 21st Street, late for a meeting and dripping copious amounts of blood from my left heel. Having no bandaids or other first aid supplies on my person, I found an old receipt and transformed it into a makeshift bandage. It worked for about 10 minutes before the blood fully soaked the receipt and I had to whip out an old to-do list on a scrap of paper to replace the receipt. When I finally arrived at my meeting destination, I limped to the bathroom and covered my bloody heel with a wad of toilet paper. Such are the trials some of us stupid women go through with new shoes. God help me, I'm wearing flips flops to my next business meeting.

Argh!...Get it Right, Google

2005-09-13T19:47:00.000-04:00

Imagine my excitement as I log into Blogger.com to spew my random thoughts (as you know I am wont to do) and on Blogger's site, I am given an option to disable spam sent as comments to my blogs. (See previous post, "Blog Spammers must be Annihilated.") I choose the option while relishing the thought that, finally, I will be rid of those pesky spammers that spread their vile comments linked with their useless web ads to hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of helpless blogs a day. But seconds later, I receive the following Google error:

Server ErrorThe server encountered a temporary error and could not complete your request. Please try again in 30 seconds.

As per Wesley, aka The Dread Pirate Roberts, "To the pain," Google! Hollow promises. Don't you know that the jokers at www.ghettohomes.net and www.cheapmailorderwives.com have won? You blow. And yet, I will continue to post in the hopes that one day...some day...I shall no longer have to suffer blogspam.

Total Catastrophe

2005-09-07T02:43:00.000-04:00

It seems that more than twice the number of Americans may have died during and in the wake of Katrina's rampage through the South than did during the September 11 attacks. Terrorism is despicable and the decimation of the Twin Towers was horrifying, but equally horrifying is watching survivors of the hurricane begging for water, living in putrid, disease-ridden waters, and without a means to let their family members around the country know if they are alive--all this almost a week after the tempest struck. Were Lousiana and Mississippi secretly declared non-states & and allowed to be transformed into a third world nation overnight? Even Kuwait has donated a few hundred million to the rescue effort, but is there the same sense of urgency from the U.S. government and FEMA?

I know, I know, it's like beating a damn dead pony with all the anti-Bush vitriol being spewed about on the topic, but I find it more than a tad bit baffling. Baffling indeed.

Baby Sharts

2005-09-06T12:32:00.000-04:00

Have you ever been the on the receiving end of projectile baby poo? My cousin and I were recently inducted into the "Shat-upon Club," courtesy of my sweet baby niece. My younger sister (another aunt, not the mother) has avoided gaining membership into the club by refusing to change poopy diapers. My mother is a four-time plus veteran of these attacks, Lord love her. While my mother and cousin calmly asked for a helping hand from anyone nearby after they were showered with poop and proceeded to wipe themselves off, I found myself paralyzed, being only capable of emitting banshee-like screams as I stared in disgust at the sticky stool coating my pant leg. After my sister slapped me out of shock five minutes later, I madly dashed to the shower and cleansed my person of all remnants of the spattered turds.

Baby girl, because you're barely two months old I guess I can forgive you of your involuntary bowel actions. But just know that I have a story to embarrass you with for countless times to come when you are in full control of all your bodily functions. Bwa ha ha ha ha (Dr. Evil-style)...

Personal Top 10 Timesucks

2005-08-29T03:36:00.000-04:00

10. Taxes--boring and annoying. Don't just take my money, make me spend hours filling out paperwork to remind me that you're taking all my money.
9. Buying groceries--50 boxes of EZ Mac, check. Gallon of soy milk, check. 10 lb bag of frozen chimichangas, check. Vat of Jergens lotion, check.
8. Rewinding VHS tapes--OK, the advent of DVD's has made this all but obsolete, but I remember it being a MAJOR timesuck. Unless you had the superfast external rewinder shaped like a Corvette.
7. Morning commutes--I'd rather have someone thread a knitting needle through my nostrils
6. Laundry--Damn, I'm going to miss the little laundromat down the street where those expert Chinese laundresses could magically turn my pile of dirty rags into an immaculate stack of meadow-fresh scented garments for a mere 40 cents a lb!!! Cheaper than old chicken!!
5. All-Day Marathon of E's True Hollywood Story--just can't get enough of the antics of former cokehead rockstars or the whereabouts of beat teen heart throbs
4. Shoe-shopping--the leather navy pumps with stitching or the hot pink mules with the buckle?
3. Apartment hunting--Beware when the landlord starts out with "It's not luxury, but..." This almost guarantees that the apartment was a former crackhouse and reeks of cat piss.
2. Writing this blog--I should be looking for an apartment or shoe-shopping
1. Reading this blog--go clean your toilet or amuse yourself something else more productive, like building a miniature replica of the White House out of Lego's.