Diet Coke and a Side of Fries

DIET COKE IS MOVING!!!

2008-06-30T14:21:00.000-07:00

A final decision has been made. I am moving my blog. I can now be found here.

http:://dietcokeandfries.wordpress.com

"Bitches talk shit"

2008-06-29T23:22:00.000-07:00

I was speaking tonight to Tight End, a good friend from high school. Since high school, Tight End has gone on to become a successful professional football player and is basically living The Life. Still, despite his new found glory and riches [he has groupies!], he has remained totally the same - in a good way. Tight End now lives in one of the fly over states and I seldom see him, but he is always good for a some wise words. Or at least some really unsage but hilarious advice.

After having spoken for about a few minutes with Tight End tonight, he asked me why I was so down sounding. I shared with him my axienty over confronting Work Troll tomorrow. After launching into my twenty minute long take on the situtation, Tight End laughed [literally, laughed out loud at me. Over and over...like a serious, hearty laugh] and said::

“Diet Coke, bitches talk shit. Why are you all twisted about that when you know it is how it is?”

Damn, he is right. Bitches do talk shit. Why am I so twisted about it? I am going to get over it now.

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Note:: I cant decide if I am actually going to move over to wordpress yet or not. For now, you can visit me in both spots!

I love my dad.

2008-06-28T19:17:00.000-07:00

So as a follow up to my last post about Work Troll, I just got off my the phone with my dad, to whom I just explained the story.

Of course, about half way through I started crying and he stopped me and said::

"Kid, I know you. And I think that instead of letting people who are cruel hurt you, you should just say 'fuck em' and keep doing whatever you are doing, because you are an amazing person."

Thanks, dad.

And in conclusion, 'fuck em.'

Turns out, women are the enemy.

2008-06-28T18:32:00.000-07:00

I recently wrote about the evils of The Mens. Turns out though, that I should have been watching out for the women instead, as they are the ones who's special brand of evil cuts the deepest.

Fancy Shoes and I were dining at an Ethiopian restaurant somewhere in the middle of Los Angeles when he asked about whether I had encountered any person who knew him. The world being small, and the world of lawyers being even smaller, it seemed a reasonable question. While I had not, turned out that he knew not one but TWO people who "knew" me.

The first was a gal who had worked at my ex's [not an ex mentioned on this here blog] previous firm. The second, was was a girl who had heard about me from a girl who had heard about me from a girl that I work with. Don't follow? Well, let me break it down.

A girl that I work with told someone that I do not a know a series of unflattering half-truths about me. This person then told ANOTHER person that I don't know these things. The second person that I don't know then shared these things with Fancy Shoes.

When I first heard these things, I was a little shaken up, but I decided that I would brush them off. I know from my own experience, that when I speak negatively of people, unless they have done something TO me, my disparaging words typically stem from my own insecurity or envy. Since I know that I have done nothing to any person at work, I chalked up their unkindness to the same.

But as I sat picking at a giant plate of I don't know what with my fingers, I began to get increasingly more distressed. The things the person were saying were beyond the typical "I don't like Diet Coke" type jargon. They were statements that were very damaging, malicious and worst of all, mostly false [or at a minimum very misleading]. Whats more, the person that I believe is propagating the nonsense is someone that I lik[ed], that I am constantly standing up for, and with whom I thought I had a trusting relationship.

I don't know what possessed the person to say what she did, but frankly, there is no excuse for it. Aside from the fact that the comments she made me seem like a seriously problematic person/employee, the words were not spoken to a trusted confidant of the original speaker. They were told to some asshat who then decided that without even knowing me one lick, she was going to go ahead and propagate the gossip even further. That is downright ugly.
While I don't think that Fancy Shoes gave much credence to the things he heard [or at least that is what I hope], the fact is that he, or someone else hearing them, could have. And could have made their judgment about me based on what they heard.

Not sure how I am going to handle this come Monday. But I think there is a 90% chance tears will be involved.

The two things that did come out of this that were good were 1) another person from work that I consider my friend [but whom I briefly doubted] being hugely supportive and 2) Fancy Shoes being terribly sweet despite my unrelenting tears.

My Ride.

2008-06-26T21:08:00.000-07:00

Last night we had an office party. As with most office parties had by my office, booze were involved. In this instance, a particularly fine champagne selection was on hand. And after Diet Coke, Champagne is very much my favorite liquid to consume [well, that and milk shake]. Which is bad. Especially since at some point last night I knew I would have to get home and somehow also be able to get back to the office bright and early the next morning.

At around 8:30 [maybe?] I called Fancy Shoes (formerly "Creepy Sleeper")* and asked if he'd pick me up in an hour [not wanting to be the first to leave the party]. He said he was too tired and rejected my proposal.

Not wanting to take a taxi [because Taxi's are depressing], I replied to a friend** who had texted me earlier to see what he was up to. The friend who has earlier texted enthusiastically agreed to by My Ride. Perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

My Ride arrived to scoop me at around 9:15 [I think]. My Ride INSISTED, [seriously, I was pretty much held hostage] that since I was already in a drink-ie mood, we should stay out. Usually, I would be okay with such a proposal as drinking tends to make me want to drink more. But last night, I was tired, my head was a little achy from all the bubbly, I really wanted my bed and I was feeling a little down. But again My Ride kept pushing, until finally I gave in.

I thought a good compromise would be to go to a bar close to my house [Three Clubs] because that way, once I had my obligatory drink, I could ask that we leave easy/fast style. So at the bar, My Ride keeps prodding me about why I was down. I explained that I was not really down DOWN, but just maybe in a little bit of a pouty mood. At which point I guess My Ride thought a good way to make me feel better was to try to molest me at the bar.

Well, he didn't molest me. But he did go in for a kiss. At which time I cried out, "what are you doing!!!???" Quickly he apologized and I thought that was the end of that. THEN, like ten minutes later he tried to put his hand up my dress. I promptly removed his hand and placed back on his knee. I guess he thought I was being coy because then he went in for ANOTHER kiss. At this point, I told him I wanted to go home. And he replied that if I wanted to go home, I could mossy on out. Alone.

So I did - and ended up walking home. It wasn't that far [about a mile], but it really sucked. And I am/was really mad. And I cried. And I fully expected an apology by the morning, but alas, I have gotten none.

So the lessons I have learned from this experience are::

1:: Don't drink too much champagne at an office party.

2:: If you do, be careful who you call.

3:: [Some] people kind of suck.

4:: Always pack a pair of flip flops because you never know when you will be walking home.

* Creepy Sleeper does not like to be called Creepy Sleeper. So as a courtesy to Creepy Sleeper, I am going to refer to him as Fancy Shoes instead. It was either that or Transformer (because of an alleged impending transformation) or just pain old D. I suspect that Fancy Shoes won't like Fancy Shoes or Transformer or D. - but one must be chosen. I just want to be clear, Fancy Shoes is not intended to be insulting - it merely relates to the fact that he has lots of Fancy Shoes. Which is not a bad thing.

** This "friend" I speak of is a friend of one of my other friends who I met about a year ago at a party my original friend's girlfriend was hosting. Once several months ago we got drunk and kissed, but not before or after such time has there been anything physical between us. So I get that maybe he thought that I was drunk dialing him to hook up [which I have never done before so I don't know why he'd think that], but once it was clear that was not the case, why did he have to go on and be an asshole?

Oh god, and now it is the next afternoon and one of my favorite co-workers maybe just quit over a disagreement with another employee.

I want to go home and burrow.

Men may be the enemy.

2008-06-23T21:39:00.000-07:00

I have always subscribed to the theory that woman are as bad as the men they date when it comes to deceiving, cheating, misleading or otherwise destroying relationships/other people. Personally, I know that for every instance I have complained about a guy blowing me off or otherwise "wronging" me, I have probably done the same thing to different person. But lately, I am starting to question whether women really are as bad as their male counterparts.

Cases in point::

1. Evil Troll and Her Evil Boyfriend:: This guy has now succeeded in successfully sleeping with or propositioning 100% of the women with whom Evil Troll has been closely associated over the last year. Arguably, Evil Troll deserves it. However, as far as I know, Evil Troll has been faithful to Her Evil Boyfriend. I think this means that Her Evil Boyfriend is actually more evil than Evil Troll. The thought makes me shudder.

2. Person I use to work with:: At the sweatshop at which I was previously employed, there is a woman who is phenomenal. Always positive, non-shit talking, funny and supa-smart. She had been married to a guy for about eight years [I totally made that up, I have no idea how long they have been married] and has two children with him [this part is true]. Recently, she has discovered that the bastard had been cheating. And not just a little. I was floor - FLOORED - when I heard about this. And sadly, so was she.

3. Guy my New Roommate is dating:: This guy, as far as I know, has not been cheating. He has however, managed over the course of 1.5 months to morph from a clever fun to be around guy into a controlling ass-wipe Aloof-Cool Guy [for those of you that don't know, "aloof-cool guy" is its own category of man - described below]. The fact they he has spiraled down so far in so short a time is alarming.

4. Guy my Old Friend S. dates:: I have mentioned this situation previously, but he is still totally running around behind her back. She is kind of an idiot for letting it happen, but still, can't blame the victim ya'll!

5. Guy my NY Bestie told me about:: NY Bestie has a friend who just broke up with her boyfriend of a lot of years after catching him text messaging and phone calling with strippers. They had just moved in together no less! I am a reasonable person who thinks that flirting is ok in a relationship, but there is no reason a boyfriend should be text messaging and talking on the phone with strippers. We are not talking about friends of his who happen to be strippers [which would be ok]. We are talking about strippers who he knows by virtue of his frequenting strip clubs [which is not ok].

And there are more current goings on of guys misbehaving amongst my friends that I don't even want to get into. But the point is, WTF fellas? What do you have to say for yourselves?

I hope that I am wrong about guys. Especially since I can't seem to stop liking em. I would like to think that any future relationships I have are not doomed as the cases above seem to suggest.

This might warrant another Highly Scientific Experiment.

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The "aloof-cool guy" is the guy that is super laid back, okay with everything, never gets mad, and is almost overly balanced. He is the kind of guy that says things like "it is what it is". This sounds good, right? It is, unless you are a normal girl [read:: slightly neurotic], in which case you will take Aloof-Cool Guy's demeanor and interpret it as not being interested in you. This will turn you into Needy Girlfriend who is always trying to get Aloof-Cool Guy to tell you/show you how much he cares. Aloof-Cool Guy will never give you such satisfaction because it is not in his nature. This will lead to infinitely circular conversations like the following::

Needy Girlfriend:: Do you want me to come?

Aloof-Cool Guy:: I want you to come if you want to.

Needy Girlfriend:: I only want to come if you want me to come.

Aloof-Cool Guy:: Well, if you want to come, just come.

etc., etc., etc.

It is a dark ugly road ladies, watch out. I have seen it too many times. The main problem with Aloof-Cool Guys is that they typically can't accept that their behavior impacts other people. And even if you tell them, they think of it as your problem and not their problem.

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* To one particular guy who I suspect will read this, I am really sorry. I didn't mean to be a jerk, I just kind of didn't know what to say. I am still routing for you on the Elite front.

Evil Troll infiltrated my Joe.

2008-06-18T21:20:00.000-07:00

It was one thing for Evil Troll to lie to me, steal from me and be an all around wretched human being. But ladies and gentlemen, the bitch just crossed the line!!!

I went to *my* favorite Trader Joe/personal oasis, which I have previously written about here, and scored a ridiculously awesome parking spot. Feeling awesome, I moseyed on out of my car in a jovial mood, making a mental shopping list as I skipping towards the doors.

And then out of the corner of my eye, I saw something very disturbing. Inching towards me was a car that looked very much like that driven by Evil Troll - a black jaguar with ghetto tint - the same car that she was going to sell because she Soooo. Needed. Money. Or. She. Was. Going. To. Die.

No way that is her, I thought.

Then, I hear The Cackle [front window was rolled down]. The Cackle is this horribly awkward thing Evil Troll does that screams - HEY YOU, LOOK AT ME. I AM HAVING SOOO MUCH FUN!!! This caused my promptly to run into Trader Joe, sprint to the doors my cashiers, and scurry back to my car.

One thing really surprised me about my encounter.

I thought I was over Evil Troll and the horrible things that she did. I thought that I had gotten to a point where recounting the story was more funny in a tragic way than it was hurtful. But seeing her released a geyser of emotions. And all of them were bad. Despite my effort to be a person that is above the pettiness of hatred, it became very clear to me that I still hate that girl. I have never encountered any person who has betrayed me more. I can't and simply put, I can't forgive her. Ever. Not that she is asking for my forgiveness.

On a more positive note, i went to the gym for the second day in a row.

** Looking back on the original Trader Joe post, I am thinking maybe this Trader Joe is for the birds and I ought to find a new one.

Gym People. They scare me.

2008-06-17T22:43:00.000-07:00

I recently joined a new Fancy Pants Gym [where I am paying astro-fucking-nomical monthly dues] under the guise that THIS is the most convenient gym for me to attend. Thus, despite my umpteen other various gym related memberships, joining THIS gym will cause me to actually work out, resulting in my becoming a skinny Diet Coke, as opposed a pleasantlyish plump Diet Coke.

Unfortunately, however, there are few problems with my new plan.

Problem #1:: I fucking hate the gym. Because 1) the gym makes you sweaty and tired [and not in a good way], 2) pleasantlyish plump people such as myself don't look hot in gym clothes [no matter how awesome Lululemon makes their damn pants] and 3) gyms are gross.

Problem #2:: Fancy Pants Gym is worst than most because 99% of the people defy nature and are gorgeous while working out. I am not one of these 99% percent. This makes me feel like a failure. [Addendum 1:: This turns out not to be so much of a problem. While I am not trying to pick anyone up at the gym, having lots of cute boys around ain't so bad.]

Problem #3:: Fancy Pants Gym, despite the aforementioned astro-fucking-nomical monthly dues, does not have enough tvs. How am I expected to get anything done without watching tv? This isn't the third world people. One tv per person at ALL TIMES. Thems the rules. [Addendum 2:: This is totally false. I must not have noticed on my walk through, but the place has shit loads of TV. So many in fact, that no matter where I looked tonight, all I could see was the Lakers sucking.]

Problem #4:: People I know work out at Fancy Pants Gym. I do like the notion of looking not hot in gym clothes while being sweaty and tired in front of people I know. I bet it is not that awesome for them either.

Problem #5:: I suck at working out. From afar, it may look like I am doing awesome. You will often find me dripping sweat on a treadmill while seemingly running my tush off. A closer look, however, will reveal that my "sprinting" is the result of the treadmill only moving at 4.3 miles per hour. I don't really get how that is possible either. I am an enigma.

And STILL, despite all the problems, I am off to the gym. Right....NOW. God bless me.

[Addendum 3:: Done working out. Feeling kind of awesome.]

Follow me (on Twitter).

2008-06-15T20:16:00.000-07:00

When I go driving I stay in my lane
But getting cut off it makes me insane

In a nut shell, I was driving on Beverly on a stretch where one lane was closed for construction. The two lanes were merging in the very civilized, and widely accepted, one car per lane manner. When my turn came, the car on my left totally boxed me out, and then gave ME the finger!!!

I was angry.

I was really angry.

But there was seemingly nothing I could do.

Then I had my most brilliant idea of the week. There is something I can do!

I can use the Internets to publicly shame that guy and all drivers like him.

So I now have a twitter account (https://twitter.com/roadrevenge) for that very purpose. Watch out readers, mess with me and I will blast your license place/offense to the universe.

Mayhem outside my window.

2008-06-07T03:13:00.000-07:00

It is 3:14 a, and I am awake not because of the usual Friday night drunk shenanigans, but instead because there is helicopter/five-0 madness outside my window.

I have no idea what is going on, but I don't like it.

And what I dislike more the notion of a maniac on the lose in my neighborhood [an assumption based on the 20 or so cop cars littering the street, the closure of Melrose plus the po-po chopper with flood light hoovering overhead] is the fact that for the first time EVER [since yesterday], the Internets have failed me.

I have googled searched my fingerprints off [what does that mean anyhow? I don't know - it's late] and scoured the world wide universe. Still, no word on what is going on :(

2008-06-05T17:00:00.000-07:00

Due to circumstance, I am prohibited about writing about my dating life. Actually, not so much "prohibited" as trying my bestest to abstain. As a result, I was finding it really difficult to write posts to inhabit my blog. Turns out there isn't much to my life except lists and boys [and drinking].

Then, someone said "Preditor." [Bear with me people, this is a depseration post]

The mention of the movie title instantly took me back to my New York Era [aka - the Good Old Days, the Always Broke Days, the Really Badly Behaved Days, and Damn My Apartment Is Small And Really Expansive Days], where I spent the vast majority of my days and nights with a pack of five guys [one of them being my then boyfriend] with the occasional rif/raff random unsavory character mixed in. We spent about 5% our time being students [typically, the week or two before finals], 20% sleeping, and the rest [don't ask me what "the rest" equals, I forgot math after high school] engaging in some combination of drinking/eatting [tacos usually]/watching tv/general time wasting. Mostly drinking and wasting time. Or are those the same thing? Gosh, I was so good at wasting time back then.

On one particular night we all decided [one person decided, the rest of us were sheep] to gather at home base for what seemed at the time the to be the Worst. Plan. Ever. We were supposed to eat, drink, hang out [ok so far]...and watch the critically acclaimed movie Predator 2 [this is where the plan was lost me]. About three minutes into the movie, someone thought we ought to kick it up a notch by making bets on what point in the movie Gary Bussy was going to die*. There was an over/under, vegas style, and each person had to pick a specific time. You would think a bet of this nature would require some sort of high stake to be exciting, but in our case, the sheer glory of being right was always enough.

Immediatly after the bets were memorialized on the white board [why was a white board on hand? I have no idea] the night was transformd from a regular drinking night in a teeny tiny New York City apartment [which, by the way, had mice] into complete and utter magic. The highlight was when Garry Bussy died [or seemed to anyhow] and then came back to LIFE! AND THEN DIED AGAIN!!! Seriously, an outside observer would think our fathers had just won the world series or the presidency or something. It was sheer pandemonium. So much drama. So much fun!

A friend of mine was in town visiting me that weekend and was on hand to witness the glory. I will never forget her glancing over to me at one point with the look that said "So, this hooting and hollering, couch-jumping, Predator 2 watching jackass is your boyfriend? And these are the future high powered lawyers of America?"

Priceless.

* Come to think of it, I don't remember if it was Gary or some other actor.

Do unto others blah blah blah.

2008-06-02T21:20:00.000-07:00

Hodge, a reader and frequent commenter [thanks on both counts] pointed out in response to my last post, basically, that ignoring people ain't cool.

And dense as I tend to be sometimes, I know that he is right and that I am being a bit [a lot?] of a bitch. If the tables were turned, I'd be really annoyed with Producer for just blowing me off [my general rule is after three or four dates, an explanation is owed if you stop talking to someone].

On one hand, I don't really know what to say. Sure, I could say "Hey Producer, you are awesome. But I am back in rehab/too busy/have stomach flu/back with my old boyfriend, etc." but all of that would be lies. And more so, I think he'd know that all of that would be lies. Not to suggest that if he didn't know they were lies, it would be better. Just seems even more useless to tell a lie when everyone knows you are lying. Anyhoo.

On the other hand, I could write "Hey Producer, I don't like you that much because you are not funny and kind of a bad kisser. So sorry, I don't want to hang out again." But that would be mean.

What is a girl to do?

Anyhow, you are right Hodge. I will try to be a better person next time around. I don't need any bad dating karma, that's for sure.

Also, to answer someone else's question, Producer does not know of this blog. I wouldn't be talking shit about his comedic/make out prowess if he did. I am not THAT mean.

Rules of Engagement.

2008-06-01T17:32:00.000-07:00

People in glass houses should not throw stones. That I know. I also know that I am pretty much Captain Google Stalker. I mean, I am a freakin black belt jedi master at it. You tell me two digits of a person's social security number and their shoe size and I will tell you every web site they visited and/or thought about since 1997. [Don't get scared. I am not internet stalking YOU of course].

But everyone knows there are RULES when it comes to internet stalking. Actually, just one rule.

Rule:: We all do it, but it is not to be discussed. Like, almost ever. Seriously. Bad idea.

I bring this up because of a guy I dated a month or so ago (the "Producer"). We went on around five dates. Producer was nice. Producer was cute. Producer was also horribly boring. I mean, not funny. At all! I can't have that. So anyhow, I used the "fade out" on him. You know, where you slowly make yourself unavailable, become slightly less agreeable, take longer to return msgs, etc. I have not heard from him for about two weeks, making me believe that my master plan had worked. UNTIL...I get a myspace message from Producer on Friday.

"You still around?" it reads.

I do not reply because 1) what the hell kind of stupid question is that [where might I have gone?], 2) why is this joker sending me myspace messages when he can call/text/email, and 3) because I don't like him. Mostly because I don't like him. Ok, 100% because I don't like him.

Then yesterday, Producer sends me an email to tell me that he KNOWS I read his message and he wants to know why I didn't reply. And then reason he KNOWS that I read his message is because myspace tells you when someone reads your message.

Sending me a myspace message to see if I will read and reply so that you can settle once and for one whether I still want to see you or not is a little lame, but somewhat understandable. However, bringing it up is creepy. Worse yet, he has sent me a third message, that I am afraid to even check.

A total violation the e-stalkers code. Also probably a sign that I need to bid my myspace account farewell.

I like it twice a day.

2008-05-29T21:49:00.000-07:00

Posting that is.

Anyhow, so I am TOTALLY f-word-ing obsessed with that Coldplay iTunes commercial. I don't like Coldplay so much as a band, but I am so oddly/creepily/hugely intrigued (and maybe a little turned on?) by the way Chris Martin flails his arms around during the whole thing. Especially around seconds 20 to 22.

Can. Stop. Watching.

My day.

2008-05-29T20:56:00.000-07:00

Below, please find a summary of my day.

1:: I discussed, among other really important things, the virtue of dipping crusty bread in soda, the personality traits of eastern European grandparents, and the deep pschological truama Halloween causes certain children. All this during the course of 100,000 words worth of emails. I know because I counted each and every single word.

2:: I determined once and for all that crunchy peanut butter is better than smooth peanut butter. Don't let the Reds tell you any different.

3:: I broke my shoe. And not just any shoe. A Valentino adorably stappy sandle shoe that I spent bucket fulls of pennies on. This makes me mad and sad.

4:: I drank three diet cokes. I am soooo off the wagon again.

5:: I found myself a future husband. We are going to adopt children from European counties with really high tax rates. We are going to be very ELITE. I will likely refuse to sign a prenup so that upon our inevitable divorce (I am pretty sure he loves my nachos more than me) I will have the funds to finally hire that driver that I have always wanted/needed.

6:: I didn't do any work. Like, ANY. I am trying to fill out my time sheet and I tears are coming to my eyes. I am pretty sure I can't bill for becoming a Yelp! master.

7:: I ate a cupcake at 8:30 in the morning. It was free, I can only be expected to have to so much will power.

8:: There is no 8. That was it. 1-7 is all I did today. And it was fun. Thanks.

I have officially exhausted the LA dating scene.

2008-05-28T20:32:00.000-07:00

I mentioned before that I was starting this crazy new fitness thing [CrossFit]. CrossFit is not in itself crazy, but it is crazy for someone like me, given that I am a slothful ball of lazy. Anyhow, fitness craze #2 for the month of May 2008 began today. All went well[ish]. I made it official and signed a contract committing myself to TWO workouts a week, each beginning at 6'o mother effing clock in the a.m. Feeling slightly giddy from my workout this morning [it is not clear why], which I pretty much sucked at, I went to work [truthfully, I stopped at starbucks first and got a gigante iced coffee, and THEN I went to work*] and hopped onto the gym's blog which prominently features a group photo from their last event.

And what do I find smack dab in the middle of said photo? My life being what it is, I spy a guy I once dated. "Dated" may be a bit strong, as we went on a single "meh" date. There was, however, making-out involved, causing any future encounter with this person to be potentially awkward. Whats more, thinking back on our date, I do recall Fitness Guy telling me he did this bizarre workout thing that involved pull-ups and a rowing machine in the mornings that he loved. Lo and behold, it happens to CrossFit. I really really hope that I don't run into him, and that if I do, that he does not remember me. But given my luck, I WILL run into him, he WILL remember me, and he WILL totally think that I am stalking him.

Universe:: 34
Diet Coke:: 0

I think I need to move to a new city, there is no safe place for me anymore in Los Angeles.

In other news, I broke down and had my first Diet Coke in seven days. And it was every bit as delicious as I remember. Oh Diet Coke [the beverage, not to the blogger], I love you so.

And in yet more news, I purchased the most brilliant dress for a wedding I am going to be attending on July 3. And with the arrival of said dress comes Operation Wedding Hotness. OWH merely requires that Hot Wedding Dress still fit me come the day of the event. This seems doable, even for me.

* Iced Coffee with "Energy," actually. Misnomer. Did not provided me with any energy. It did, however, cost be an extra fifty cents.

Beautiful Day

2008-05-24T20:34:00.000-07:00

I complained a lot going into the weekend because of the doom rain forecast, but today turned out to be lovely. I started the morning off with a hike at Runyon, and enjoyed it more today than I have ever before. The weather was cool and clear, the mountain [okay fine, hill] was totally deserted [passed probably 10 people along the way] and I was super motivated. I even ran half the way, and not just on the downhill either!!!

Lovely way to start the long weekend. Looking forward to more of the same.

Tomorrow, I am going to see Indiana Jooones! Yes, I know it is supposed to suck. But I don't care. Indy gives me the happy fuzzy fizzy feeling inside. And Shia ain't so bad either. ;)

Things I don't like to admit.

2008-05-21T21:37:00.001-07:00

I maybe kinda actually sorta like Carrie Underwood. I am pretty certain the lyrics below were written with me in mind.

"Last night I got served a little too much of that poison baby
Last night I did things I'm not proud of
And I got a little crazy...
Oh, my mama would be so ashamed"

[yes, I am watching the American Idol finale right now]

Not much happening.

2008-05-21T19:39:00.001-07:00

God wants me to be fat. Otherwise, why would this be opening one block from my house?

In other news I am a) starting a craaazy new exercise regimen called "CrossFit" next month [will expand upon this when I am having a more articulate day], and b) on day two with no diet coke.

I have nothing else to report, except that I am really looking forward to seeing the new Indiana Jones movie this weekend.

Foutune cookie, don't leave me hanging!

2008-05-17T00:22:00.000-07:00

My fortune cookie told me today to "[b]e prepared for a new relationship."

Umm, can I get a little more info here, Fortune Cookie? You've been right before. Like last time when you told me that I would soon be eating Chinese food - totally on point! I just want to be sure I understand what you are getting at so that I can make the most of your wisdom.

So when you say I should be prepared, do you mean RIGHT NOW? Tomorrow? OMG, what am I going to wear?! And this "relationship" you speak of - are we talking boyfriend? New gardener? New bookclub member?

Seriously, Forture Cookie, I am certain your intentions are good. But next time if you are going to get involved in my person life, make sure you are very clear. Because frankly, the ambiguity stresses me out.

Bad things.

2008-05-15T23:15:00.000-07:00

I do not like the following::

1:: The phrase "it is what it is." Yes, it is. But, must we really have a saying stating as such? And must people use it with such frequency and self satisfaction? Next time someone tells me something is what it is, I am going to say:: "Potatoes will always be potatoes." Because, they will, you know? Just like it is what it is. And I am who I am. And I arrived when I arrived. And I ate what I ate. And then I left when I did.

2:: Securities Exchance Commission. I do not like you.

3:: That my New Roommate's ringtone on her phone is a song. And further that the song is one by Akon. And further yet that the song contains the lyric "hundred dollar bills ya'll." And I don't mean in jest.

4:: Text messages as a means of substantive conversation. I can hang with text messages for simple communication, drunked flirtation, sober flirtation, and "just wanted to say hi" kind of nonsense. But, please. Please. Please. Please. Do not try to convey important things to me via text.

5:: People who pretend (mostly boys in my case) that they do not know you when they CLEARLY do. This just happened to me a few days ago. There is a certain guy whose parents are friends with my family. I have known him for about a million years and see him at least three times a year. We aren't friends per se, but we are friendly. And he totally asked me out once. I see the guy at a family get together this past weekend, and he literally said "Hi, nice to meet you." This makes him either (a) exceedinly stupid, or (b) exceedingly pathetic. Either way, I don't like it.

6:: Running out of popcorn. One should never, ever run out of popcorn.

7:: Sunday, 8:53 p:: I have done extensive studies, and it is proven that 8:53 p is the WORST. TIME. EVER. It is at this time that you realize the weekend is over and Monday is looming. Sunday, 8:53 p is the inverse of Friday 6:00 p.

Weekend tales.

2008-05-12T22:05:00.000-07:00

In no particular order::

1. My mother, solidifying her spot as the coolest mom of all time, decided Sunday morning that she wanted to spend her mother's day not at the Four Seasons brunching, as we had planned, but at a local casino playing poker. And so began a little family trip to the City of Commerce.

2. At the casino I sat beside the hottest guy I have seen in 2008. As I was leaving, he followed me to the cashier [I won three hundred dollar dollar bills ya'll (all of which has been spent - see item 3)] to give me his number. Given that he had degenerate [and very sexy] gambler written all over him, I don't intend to use it.* But still, it totally made my day/month. Any furthermore, if I should ever be back at Commerce Casino again and happen to sit beside him, I may just think our encounters to be destiny and may have to propose to him.

3. I purchased an awesome new "work" dresses. I say "work" because it is not actually work appropriate, but somehow classifying the dress as such, even if erroneously, makes me feel more justified about the purchase.

4. Gameboy e-dumped me on Friday. He then tried to take it back Saturday [kind of], suggesting that perhaps he was hasty and we should see what happens. But alas, one can not take back a dump. Especially one so ill-conceived and delivered electronically.

5. I joined eHarmony. Because, you know, I don't have enough male induced drama in my life already. I also have been informed that Gameboy is an eHarmony patron and that so I hope desperately that we lack the five points of compatibility. The reason that I know this about Gameboy is because the world is intent on demonstrating over and over how small it is. I get it world. Please stop tormenting me.

6. I met blogger Single/Fabulous on Saturday. We went hiking at Runyon Canyon. She was very Nice/Awesome.

7. I had eight tons of tortilla chips at Pink Taco while watching the Laker's play shit basketball, then drove to a bar in Hollywood to meet up with some friends. Met up with said friends. Downed two shots of tequila under intense peer pressure. Wanted to leave about 10 minutes later and was obvs not going to drive. So instead, I left my car at said bar and took a cab. The end result was my car being held hostage for two days and my having to pay a usurious "parking" fee to get it back. Fucking Hollywood.

8. Evil Troll and her boyfriend seem to have broken up yet again, as her Shitious Boyfriend has called my New Roommate in hopes of re-re kindling whatever it was they had. This whole situation is rapidly morphing from somewhat amusing to just plain old sad. Also, I am very displeased to have it reaffirmed yet again that people can be such scoundrels. There are literally two women on the planet that are off limits to Shiteous Boyfriend by virtue of their acquaintance with Evil Troll. Why must he pursue one of those gals? Anyone care to comment on this?

9. [Redacted for now]

10. My New Roommate has met a new guy that is phenomenally cool. They seemingly have nothing in common, but I hope she keeps him around because he is fun to hang out with. Also, he is not Shiteous Boyfriend.

11. I had one of the best hair days EVER [not counting professionally done days] Saturday night.

12. I can't tell sometimes if my blog makes me seem more neurotic than I am or if I am more neurotic than I let on in my blog.

* This is what they call progress. For the first time ever, I am avoiding a guy that is all but assured to spell danger for me, despite my intense physical attraction. I am growing up people.

A moment of clarity.

2008-05-07T21:49:00.000-07:00

As I sat at my desk today, I thought to myself how much time I waste thinking/worrying about nonsense (i.e., Gameboy, Aristotle boy, Evil Troll, etc.). I looked out my window and for about eight seconds I felt in a state of bliss. Really believing that my life is awesome, and that I need to chill out and enjoy it more thoroughly. Then the moment passed. I still feel like my life is awesome, but I also fell like I want to throw up at the thought of another rejection.

Sigh.

In other news, Evil Troll and her nasty pants boyfriend are back together. He called New Roommate to tell her, and to tell her to tell me that I had better not say anything to Evil Troll about his indiscretion.

Hickeygate 2008

2008-05-06T22:58:00.000-07:00

So begins another cycle of the Diet Coke Dating Horror Show.

This time around, I was/am re-dating a person [henceforth "Gameboy" - because he designs video games] that I previously dated, but then stopped dating because I got semi-serious with someone else instead [the guy I picked over Gameboy turned out to be a total whacko, but then I maybe should have deduced that early on given his die hard obsession with Proust and Morrisey]. I was going through my emails the other day and came upon exchanges with Gameboy, and was reminded of how he was both cute and sweet. Plus he called me almost immediately after our first date, which is the type of early dating behavior I tend to favor.

Sure, several months had passed, but what was the harm in emailing him to see if he wanted to grab a drink? So I did just that. And much to my amazement he emailed back, and not just to tell me to shove off. We ended up getting together last weekend [Friday night] for dinner at a vegan place called Cru in Silverlake. After dinner we headed to 4100 Bar - a cool bar where good dates go to die [or maybe just my dates]. And by "some drinks", I mean he had one scotch to my three Kettle/soda's.

At 4100 Bar, things got a little strange. He didn't want to order another drink, which made me think he was over the date. As we were walking out, I was fully prepared to say goodbye. Instead he suggested that we walk over to a coffee shop we had seen earlier. The coffee place was closed, so we continued walking around for a bit looking for places to go until it was decided that we'd go back to my place [Very clever tactic, Gameboy. Very clever indeed.]

Back at my place, Gameboy drank tea, which concerned me greatly. Diet Coke likes alcohol on a Friday night, not tea. My fears were quelled when he insisted that I drink whatever I please. And I think he meant it. Or at least I hope so. Anyhow, we hung out for a long while, chatted, joked, laughed, blah blah. I ended up having a lot of fun and decided that I liked Gameboy [which of course, means that Gameboy cannot like me].

Saturday was stressful, because being crazy as I am, I expected that Gameboy would call/text/email me. He did not. Not being able to contain myself, and knowing full well that I would have been better served by doing nothing, I texted him anyhow. This of course led to additional hours of agony as Gameboy did not respond. Or at least not until Sunday, when he asked if I wanted to see a movie at his place. I of course, despite knowing that I should have pretended to have better things to do, accepted his offer. [Clearly, I could use some of those horrible "Rules" in my life]

All was going well until, as I got ready to leave, I glanced at his neck and realized the he had a hickey, junior high style. As I imagined the thirty two year old man standing before me going to work with a giant red mark on his neck, naturally, I laughed out loud. Two seconds later, completely in jest [I swear it], I uttered five tiny words.

"You are a marked man."

His whole expression changed. As if I had some how branded him on purpose so all the ladies of the world knew that he was mine, mine, mine. When in fact, I think he probably just has sensitive skin.

Anyhow, I left. No word from Gameboy since. Sad, because I could have totally dug him.

But then again, if he can't handle a hickey and a harmless remark, it was doomed anyhow.

And finally, I am clearly doing something wrong when it comes to this whole "dating" gig.

Highly Scientific Experiment #1: Sex on a first date.

2008-05-05T21:33:00.000-07:00

Inspired by my previous post, and wanting to know once and for all whether doing the dirty dirty on a first date is the kiss of death for a budding relationship, I set upon devising a High Scientific Experiment.

At first I considered asking my male friends, but quickly determined they would make a very poor sample as they are predominantly gay, and those who are straight would be so excited to be getting some play that they would propose marriage to any mammal that was willing to put out. So I did the next best thing, I turned to the diverse [“diverse” as in they encompass perverts of all ages and sexual proclivities] group know as the Men of Los Angeles Craigslist (the "Men").

I posed as a 25 year old who had foolishly gotten naughty with a suitor in whom she had real interest [as opposed to merely sexual interest] and feared that she had blown her chances at a real relationship by whoring out. The Men responded in droves [over 60 replies to date].

My findings are as follows::

46% of the Men replied with some variation of "you dumb slut, you blew it."

Interestingly of those 58%, about half first apologized and THEN called me a slut. Most believed that a man cannot respect a woman with whom they have had sex [I don't really get this - someone explain?]. Also, these replies were the least articulate of the bunch, utilizing phrases like "lol" and using "u" for "you."

“No healthy long-term relationship can spring from a one-nighter.”

[What about unhealthy long-term? I would take that]

“he just lost all respect for u. He thinks ure a slut”

[says the man with “69” in his email address]

“It's not a riddle it's just that you're a slut..lol"

“He will not marry you. Guys have two categories - women they will sleep with and women they will marry.”

“Basically, you just made yourself a tramp sorry to say. You can disagree with me and you can even lie to me but you can never lie to what your inner soul will tell you. That is why sex was created by God to be within marriage.”

[This last one was my favorite. It went on for a really long time about my soul.]

27% told me about how they had healthy relationships that resulted from a first night sexer [at least one of which ultimately ended in divorce, but what marriage doesn't these days?] Most of this group thought that the timing of sex has nothing to do with it, and it is based solely on other factors, like whether the person actually likes you or not. How very novel!

"sleeping with a guy on the first date is as equal as reading his resume you gotta see if he is good enough for the job"

15% said it depends on how good the sex was.

“If he digs you, (and the sex wasn't awful) then of course he'll want to see you again.”

5% propositioned me.

3% had some sort of God theory.

"trust you me, if he wants to Create he will be back."

2% asked me why I am asking such a dumb question.

1% wanted to know why the girl they recently went out with has not called them back.

1 very creepy person thinks that one night stands lead to rape.

“If he expects sex from you every time you meet, he's controlling you, and guess what happens when you threaten his masculinity by breaking his control? Right, and that's how girls get beaten, raped, or worse.”

Conclusion::

Sex on a first date is a very bad idea if the guy with whom you are sleeping (1) has an IQ lower than 100 [lolers, I am looking at you], (2) finds you to be a bad lay, (3) doesn't like you anyhow, or (4) really loves God. Otherwise, go crazy ladies, cause no one cares.

When small things turn into big issues.

2008-05-01T21:50:00.000-07:00

My friend, A.M., has been dating a guy for about a month now. The last few times I have spoken to her, she was very enthusiastic about the state of the relationship [not unusual as she is typically wild about all new boys - for about a fortnight- and then not so much]. So enthusiastic, in fact, that she had not been engaging in any sexy bed time action with said boy in an effort to project herself as being sexually unattainable, and therefor more desirable. [Aside:: Really? I have certainly heard of such a thing, but is having sex with someone really the kiss of death in a budding relationship? Seems dumb. Like, really dumb].

Below is a PG-13ified version of the conversation I have with A.M. last night::

Diet Coke:: So, what is up with the new fella you have been (not) boinking?
A.M:: It is so over.
Diet Coke:: Oh noes! Did the pretending not to be a slut backfire?
A.M:: He and I were hooking up the other night and I discovered that his Business is really really small.
Diet Coke:: Shut up, it can't be THAT small.
A.M:: No, seriously. It is THAT small.
Diet Coke:: So you just aren't going to see him anymore?
A.M:: Yup.
Diet Coke:: But weren't you really into him?
A.M:: Yeah, but D.C., it was REALLY REALLY small. Like, unemployable small.
Diet Coke:: Damn.

All this got me thinking, Carrie Bradshaw style.

Is it totally reprehensible to dump a guy because his package is the size a single serving Crystal Light pack? [I think no]

Doesn't this all mean that you should have sex with a guy BEFORE you decide you like him? [I think maybe] After all, it seems that prolonged abstinence can only lead to either 1) a broken heart upon discovery of your objects physical deformity, or 2) if the sex happens to be good, several missed week of good sex. [And let's face it, you may not be dating this person for very long so any possible weeks of good sex needs to be taken advantage of].

If I were in such a situation, would my earlier truth proclamation require me to share with said guy that I was dumping him because of his inadequacy or does a lie in this circumstance solidly fall into some "lie for the sake of human decency exemption"? [I think the latter].

So many questions, so little time.

Lover, you should really love Jeff Buckley.

2008-04-28T21:09:00.001-07:00

It's never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
It's never over, all my riches for her smiles when I slept so soft against her
It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
It's never over, she's the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

I really want to meet someone who loves that song as much as I do.

It blows my whole brain every time I listen to it. Which is frequently.

Self Imposed Exile/ Girls are dumb.

2008-04-27T22:11:00.000-07:00

Part I - Self Imposed Exile::

For the past several months, I have been going a little overboard in my life. I am not saying it hasn't been fun [it has], but I felt like I was getting a little out of control. In order to get back on track, I have been wanting a weekend all to myself, free of vice, technology, and outside influences. Originally my plan had been to go to Palm Springs and just hang out, all by my lonesome. But when my roommate announced she was leaving for a week, I decided that I would make my house my own personal sanctuary.

So basically, for the last two days I fell off the face of the earth, I worked on my tan, I wrote a bunch, I read even more, I felt wonderful and happy and sad and lonely and wonderful again. I relearned how to spend time with myself. I organized my closet. I even had my own little Project Runway experience when I tried [and failed] to sew a tunic for myself. I dealt [and continue to deal with ] a gas leak.

At the end of it all, I learned no great lessons. I didn't find myself, discover the meaning of life, or write the first few pages of the next great American novel. I am still bummed as hell that it is Sunday, thereby making tomorrow a workday. But I feel grounded and strong. And over all, I am pretty gosh darn happy.

Part II - Girls are dumb [sometimes]::

So I have this friend I will call Dee. Dee and I were very good friends in High School, are slightly less friendly these days, but still quite close. We speak irregularly but have always managed to somehow keep a genuine connection between us. Or at least I think so, anyhow.

Dee, despite being brilliant in nearly every facet of her life, has atrocious taste in men. Worse than me even. If there is a useless man within 10 miles of Dee, she will sniff him out and make him the love of her life until the whole farce of a relationship blows up in her face. It is rather painful to watch, but I always just figured that one day she would realize the absurdity of her ways and find a man that didn't totally suck.

I may be wrong. Dee's latest conquest, Moldy, is her worst yet. So of course, true to form, Dee has declared him the love of her life. Moldy is a pathological liar, a womanizer, and pretty much a total unreliable asshole. I know all of this because he is a pseudo friend of mine. Pseudo in that I hang with him on occasion, can have a beer and a laugh with him, but don't trust even a teensy little bit.

Recently, I went out with a Mutual Friend of myself and Moldy and had a conversation that went as such::

Me:: Hey, how is Moldy? I have not seen the kid for a while.

Mutual Friend:: He is really good, he has been really busy dating lots of chicks.

Me:: Say whhhha? Did he and Dee break up??

Mutual Friend:: Oh shit, I forgot you are friends with Dee. Please, please, please don't say anything.

Me:: Of course not. It is none of my business.

BUT, the problem is this. I don't actually believe that it is none of my business. Because after all, Dee is my friend. If I were Dee, and I loved a man who was cheating on me and my friends knew, I would damn well expect them to tell me about it.

So that is what I did in a roundabout way. I didn't want to get Mutual Friend in hot water, so I made up a cockamamie story about how I thought that maybe I may have possibly maybe seen Moldy with another gal. My thought was that telling Dee her boyfriend might be cheating 1) would cause her to reexamine the relationship, and 2) would force her to confront Moldy and he'd have to come clean, since he is in fact cheating.

Turns out, neither of the results I had anticipated came to pass. Dee refused to talk to Moldy because according to her, he is under a lot of pressure and she does not want to add to it. And further, Moldy would NEVER cheat. They are in love. I am mistaken. And that is that.

On one hand, I understand where Dee is coming from. She is desperate for a relationship and to feel deeply connected to someone. She does not want to see how flawed her chosen partner is, because she is desperate, and she can pretend, at least for now, he is what she wants.

On the other hand, I want to say to her - For the love of God lady, wake the hell up. You are dating a total asshole. Just because you don't want to admit it or see it, does not make it any less true. And when a friend of your's who loves you tells you something, perk up your ears, open your eyes, and stop being so stupidly naive.

But of course, I can't say that to Dee. So I am saying it to you instead.

Working out is hazardous to your health.

2008-04-23T23:11:00.000-07:00

I kid you not. One day post Burn/Torture 60 and I am incapable of walking, standing, laughing, drinking or thinking. Literally every single muscle in my body aches. Certainly more information than you desire, but I had to use the handicap bathroom at the office today because I needed the handrail to hoist myself back up to standing position. I would not be able to sprint down the hallway if my life depended on it. And I tend to think I could do ANYTHING if my life depended on it (I do after all, plan to be immortal).

On another note, a great many of you have expressed shock and awe over the current Evil Troll Situation. And I know!!! The whole situation is totally bat shit crazy. The latest is that Evil Boyfriend (as in Evil Troll's current/ex boyfriend) called my New Roommate to tell her that he and Evil Troll are engaged in a project together (I can only imagine what this "project" entails) and that he can't talk to my New Roommate until after they have concluded said "project".

And the reasons for his mandated hiatus? Because he can't think of my New Roommate without wanting to [expletive] her and he needs to not be [expletiving] her right now out of respect to Evil Troll. Those are his words, not mine!!!!

And by the way, please add this to my list of pet peeves:: Someone who has already done bad things X and Y says that they will not do bad thing Z "out of respect."

Real life example:: I just stole your shoes and cut a hole in your socks, but out of respect for you, I will not step on your toes.

Thanks?

A world of pain.

2008-04-22T21:08:00.000-07:00

Examples of a good idea:: ice cream, pool side frolicking, pancakes, vacations, backyard BBQs, baseball games, massages, cupcakes, swimming pools, bubble bath, diet carbonated beverages, photographs.

Examples of a bad idea:: waking up at 5a (in the morning people!!!) to engage in the most hellish workout ever after not having worked out in half a decade.

Wanting to fit in with the early morning worker outter contingent at my work place, I signed up to join my clearly masochistic cohorts today at Burn 60. The class was way the hell over in Brentwood and started at 6a. I have not woken up that early since my burglar alarm went off a couple months ago, and even then, I considered staying in bed. And the name Burn 60? Accurate in part, as their is in fact burning. However, not merely for the 60 minutes the name implies. I am 9.5 hours post workout and I am in PAIN. I can't walk, I can't bend down, it is a wonder I can even type.

I also went to see Dr. Kerendian, marking our one month anniversary. Between the lipotropics and the ass kicking workout, I better see some results. And I mean soon!

No title is good enough.

2008-04-21T21:08:00.000-07:00

First of all, let me say - holy fucking shit. Second, let me say - the following is shockingly, amazingly, karma is a mean bitch-edly true.

Most of you will recall my tales of Evil Troll. The basic synopses is as follows::

Once upon a time, Evil Troll and I were BFF style. Inseparable. Sisterly, even. I defended her against plethora's of (correct) naysayers. I put up with her absolute flakery. I introduced her to all my friends and basically made her part of my family. And worst of all, I made the fateful decision last September to move in with her.

Fast forward two months, and Evil Troll informs me that she is going to bail on the lease to move in with her boyfriend of one point five months. She fails to inform me that in the process, she intends to lie, cheat, steal and act like a total psychopath.

For a while, I was very sad, not to mention completely stressed that she and I had moved into a giant house for which I was now solely responsible. I started to surround myself with non-Evil Troll like persons. Time passed. The anger subsided. The memories of the havoc Evil Troll caused faded. Recently, I stopped thinking of Evil Troll (almost) altogether.

Until.

Today.

When I come home, and find who?

Nope, not Evil Troll.

I find Evil Troll's mother fucking BOYFRIEND!

Hooking up with my New roommate (who for the sake of clarity, is not Evil Troll).

[Aside:: They had meet when New Roommate came to visit the house a few times before she moved in. Turns out they met again today - and well, the rest is history as they say.]

Let's recap shall we?

Evil Troll befriends Diet Coke, Evil Troll fucked Diet Coke over to move in with her boyfriend, Evil Troll hoodwinks some poor unsuspecting girl to take over her lease and buy all of her stuff, poor unsuspecting girl ends up fucking Evil Troll over by fucking Evil Troll's boyfriend.

OMG OMG OMG OMG.

Part of me feels sad for Evil Troll because that totally sucks, and frankly, is not that kind of thing that people should have to experience. But dang, former home slice had it coming. Also, what kind of total asshat is this boyfriend of hers (or not hers, rather)??!?!?!

My weekend from Wednesday's perspective.

2008-04-16T22:23:00.000-07:00

I meant to share with you my thoughts on last weekend because it was pretty eventful. And here we are, Wednesday night, and I am finally getting around to posting about my weekend. The reasons for the delay are::

1. When I got home last night, I plopped down on my couch and became completely incapacitated. I could see my laptop two feet away and still could not muster up the strength to get up grab it. I sat there for about three hours, not sleeping, thinking about all the stuff that I had to do that I was not doing. And then I dozed off and had a dream that I had finally figured out how to draft this wretched agreement I am working on. And then I woke up. Feeling really sad because it was almost morning and the agreement was not in fact figured out.

2. Being the consummate procrastinator that I am, I figured it would be fine to put off my weekend blog until later...and later...and later...

So again, here we are, Wednesday night, and I am finally getting around to posting about my weekend, and all I can remember about it was that it was really fucking hot.

Coolin by day then at night working up a sweat

2008-04-11T21:33:00.000-07:00

You know how sometimes you go to a place and you see some gal or guy rocking out to the music? And I don't mean rocking out in an adorable way, which also happens. I am speaking of the times where a group of people are staring dumbfounded while a lone girl sings along and makes accompanying hand jesters to "Oops, I Did it Again." And you feel sorry for this person, and you swear that you will never be this person, because to be this person is a crime?

Sadly, at 7:42p last night, in the vicinity of Beverly and La Jolla, I was that person. Here is my story.

I was driving along after a hard days work (very hard day's work), feeling a pretty out of it and exhausted. The radio was letting me down as it always does* so I started sifting through my glove box (does anyone actually keep gloves in their glove box?) and found an unmarked CD. Actually, I found about ten or so unmarked CDs, and just randomly plopped one in. All of the aforementioned happened while I was driving, so you can imagine how much my lane mates liked me at this point.

The first song was "Buttons" by Sia. Good song, but not appropriate for the mood. I was thinking something a little less pep and a little more Jeff Buckley, so I skipped ahead to the next track. As the next song started to play, I showed a little apprehension. But by the time the second "Ah, push it" rang out, the volume was already starting to creep up to deafening levels.

At "Ow! Baby! Baby! Salt and Pepas here!" my driver's seat has turned into a full on 80's roller rink party. Everything continued going swimmingly well until I got to, "Better make it fast or else I'm gonna get pissed." I was shucking and jiving like a lunatic when I noticed that the car full of peeps to my left were laughing hysterically, taking great lengths to drive right beside me, so as to not lose sight of their nights entertainment. When the passenger in the car winked at me, I decided I needed to flee the scene at once and swiftly busted a right. I lost sight of the car, but the mortification followed me all the way home.

Last night, I fell victim to Push It. I became The Girl rocking out while people stared in astonished amusement. And frankly, it felt pretty damn good. Not the being a spectacle so much, but the part about letting the music overtake you. When I left the office, I was totally bummed and stressed. By the time I arrived at my driveway, I was feeling slightly euphoric about the carefree weekend with perfect weather that was ahead of me. And for this, I have Salt n' Pepa to thank.

* Speaking of the radio, I like the "I can ride a bike with no handlebars" song as much as the next person, but must it be on the radio 6 times a day? Is there really such a glut in the music industry that the same good song has to played constantly? If so, and I highly doubt that it is actually so, it makes me sad.

By the time I grow up.

2008-04-08T23:18:00.000-07:00

The Apocalypse is around the bend (aka - Diet Coke is turning 30 soon). Soon is relative, of course, and in this context means five hundred and one certain to be fleeting days. Gasp.

I seldom think of the aging process, probably because I act more like a college freshman on a typical day than a sophisticated adult. And still, the fact remains, I am getting old(er). And I have no more of an idea about life now than I did ten years ago, and aside from my scholastic achievements and income earning, it is safe to say that I have not accomplish much either. I am basically the same person now as I was then except with three extra gray hairs, reduced skin elasticity, a better wardrobe, more clutter, and less optimism about the world. Thank god my boobs have held up, I'd otherwise be totally defeated.

I decided last night rather than rue the day I roll over into my Dirty Thirties, I am going to make the next five hundred and one days the most fantastic I've experienced yet. When my personal Age Apocalypse arrives, I won't look back and wish/wonder/lament what could have been and be sad over a waste "youth".

To that end, I have made a list of all the things I want to accomplish (my list is clearly unbridled by reality)::

1. Run a marathon (even if really, really slowly)
2. Save a life
3. Finally clear my closet of all the clothing that I love but never wear
4. Publish a book
5. Write a poem that dose not suck
6. Learn how to properly use "that" and "which"
7. Stop being a lawyer
8. Cease all lies, even the ones that I tell to make others feel better
9. Learn to cook like my mother
10. One time (just one measly effing time) get something done BEFORE the deadline
11. Start writing thank you notes
12. Forgive Evil Troll for being the worst person I have ever come across (clearly, not nearing forgiveness quite yet)
13. Only engage in activities that I want to genuinely be engaging in (no more party attendance out of obligation, ya'll!)
14. Travel somewhere by myself
15. Have sex on a mountain top
16. Start remembering people's birthdays
17. Learn to drive - properly
18. Pay my parking tickets before the fine doubles
19. Stop signing up for things and then never going
20. Meditate
21. Levitate

There you have it. Those are the first 21 things that came to mind. There are hundreds more, but you get the point. And if you perhcance don't get the point, it is this:: I have a lot a lot of things I want to do in my life. And for the most part, I am not doing them. And I am getting tired of having things I want to do and not doing them. Because life in general is short, and mine is getting shorter by the second, and so by golly - I am going to start going to make shit happen.

Errr, I just thought of one more thing.

22. Stop being the kind of person that purchases extravagantly expensive shoes.

When I grow up
I'll be stable
When I grow up
I'll turn the tables

The Importance of Maintaining Decorum

2008-04-04T23:36:00.000-07:00

Today, we have two topics up for discussion. First we have a little story about how your dearest author has managed to embarrass herself for the trillionth time (and that is in 2008 alone). Then we have an update on my visit to Dr. Kerendian.

The Importance of Maintaining Decorum::

Four score and one year ago, my friend Teebs and I attended a certain marketing event hosted by a certain investment bank. While marketing events are typically not my style, we were lured in by promises of hot guys, and more importantly, free booze. Whereas the aforementioned good looking men were nowhere to be found, the alcohol was as abundant as oxygen. After about two (or perhaps closer to six) mango infused Bellini's, Teebs and I were totally out of control – basically acting like two ditzy (but very cute and endearing) ass hats. Apparently, investment bankers are into ass hats, because we were certainly the most popular girls in the room. Or perhaps the only girls in the room? Either way, we have a gaggle of guys surrounding us, more or less hanging on our every word.

Three more Bellini's and an hour later, someone had the idea of going across the street to the Peninsula Hotel to get a late night bite. Once we left the confines of the marketing event, all hell broke loose. When drunk, Diet Coke has a tendency to (a) say EVERYTHING in her drunk (and thereby, feeble) mind, and (b) talk to strangers. And on this particular night, I indulged in both (a) and (b) to the greatest extent possible. So much in fact, that by the time we sat down to eat, we had at least one random guy from the bar dining with us. After that, I don't really remember much. All I know is that someone had to drive me home and the next morning I felt like the death bus had run over my face. Twice.

Imagine my surprise, when I walk into the attorney meeting on Monday where a new lateral partner is introduced, and said partner is none other than one of the guys from that investment banking marketing event turning into a drunken brouhaha. The shame, the embarrassment, the hilarity!

My point, dear readers is this:: When going to a social function where your current or future colleagues are likely to be in attendance, don't get shit faced drunk and act like a total baboon.

More on the Good Doctor Kerendian::

I have received an alarming number of emails from you registering your shock, dismay, and concern over my visit to Dr. Kerendian. Let me say, first, that I realize that there is no magic pill that is going to make me super model thin and that in order to attain the body I want, I have to work for it. Being the smarty pants that I am, I also know that there are many diet fads that can be dangerous. That all being said, the Good Doctor Kerendian is an actual doctor with credentials and experience, and not some random who-ha hack that just popped up. And most importantly, whether it is my crazy brain playing tricks on me or a legitimate result of lipotropics and vitamins, I feel super.

Thanks for looking out though!

Must. Lose. Weight.

2008-04-01T21:18:00.000-07:00

Having spent the better part of the last two years lamenting the ten extra pounds on my frame despite all my various weight loss efforts (which admittedly, have typically compromised my eating "healthy" for two days, and then going out for Mexican food) – I am taking (semi) drastic measures.

I heard rumblings a few months ago from Evil Troll about a Dr. Kerendian in Beverly Hills who is supposed to be a weight loss guru. Such rumblings were ignored given Evil Troll's status as 1) a dishonest and 2) evil. But then again on Monday, the Good Doctor Kerendian entered into my life when I heard someone in the elevators at my office talking about how their friend's, friend's, friend lost – "like, 25 pounds and looks, like, totally awesome."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is all the endorsement I need.

So I rang up the Good Doctor Kerendian, who is conveniently located down the street, and come tomorrow at 1:00 p, I will be in his care on my way to weight loss bliss. I hope. The first appointment is taking various tests to measure my metabolic rate, blood work, and all that other doctorly stuff. I am verboden from consumption of caffeine AND alcohol for the 24 hours period prior.* Thusly, the diet coke I am drinking right now makes me a rule breaker. But I swear, after this one, no more. Errr, maybe.

Also, for those of you curious about Dr. Kerendian (and apparently, that is many of you because the phone guy told me the place gets 180 calls a DAY), I will post periodically about my results, costs, and give a general review of Dr. Kerendian. Until then, you can refer to his website.

* I totally cheated and had two drinks last night with some friends at The 3rd Stop. I used to love this place, but they have totally lost themselves. They are trying to be all fancy now and it is v v v v v annoying.

The First Appointment::

I just returned from my first appointment with Dr. Kerendian. I use the term "with" very loosely, as the appointment was in fact with his medical staff (I was previously informed that the first would be). They took some blood, weighted me (THE HORROR!!!), took my body fat (THE HORROR!!!!), and had me take a metabolic test (my metabolism is normal to higher than normal – I guess I am fattish because I eat a lot. Damn!). Afterwords the Good Doctor's Physician Assistant came in any told how he thinks I basically don't eat right and how I need to work out more, build some muscle, yada yada blah blah. He then told me to come back in three days to see the Good Doctor Kerendian.

My thoughts:: Yes, buddy. I know all this. And I didn't pay three hundred cash American dollar dollar bills to hear you tell me I am fattish because I eat too much and I don't work out enough. Give me some pills!! Give me some shots!!!

My reply:: Ok, thanks.

The Second Appointment::

The *real* appointment day arrived at last. I was off to see the Good Doctor Kerendian in the flesh. We chatted for nearly an hour, talked about my eating habits (bad), life style (naughty), work outs (non-existent), energy level (low), etc. After about forty minutes of yapping, we got to the good stuff.

He put me on a 1200 calorie diet, twice daily metabolic packs (fist fulls of horse sized vitamins), and lipotropic injections. I received the first of the injections yesterday - in my butt (left side for those keeping track)- and I know it's crazy and impossible, but I feel much thinner already! talk about placebo effect.

Summary::

I just started The Program. Good Doctor Kerenian thinks I can lose up to 16 pounds, so that shall be my goal.

The day the music died. In Silverlake. At a bar.

2008-03-15T13:10:00.000-07:00

The Silverlake Hipster contingent likes their juke music, as I discovered on a recent trip to 4100 Bar, which is probably one of my top 5 east side bars.

Certain Someone and I descended upon 4100 Bar at around 9:30 after dinner at Malo down the street. First off let me say, I do not recommend Malo. Any Mexican Restaurant that makes you pay for salsa is not ok. This is the kind of trend that will result in McDonald's charging for straws or Taco Bell for sporks (aka - end of the world).

When we first got to 4100 Bar, the place was pretty empty, allowing us to cozy up to two bar stools right by the vaunted Juke Box. Immediately, Certain Someone started demanding I procure dollar dollar bills to start playing some music. Having quit my job at the strip club, I was fresh out. When we tried to get some change for a five from the bar back, we were informed the box had run amok, playing tunes at will - ignoring the wishes of its paying clientele. As the place started to fill up, LITERALLY 30 people walked up to the Juke to try to put their money in (some actually did) and were crushed to learn that it was broken.

All through the bar, there was malcontent, snickering and suspicion over the lack of musical styling. Just as we had all lost faith - reconciled ourselves to an evening of silence followed up by 30 second bits of random songs followed by more silence - the doors swung open. A light shone in. And entered - the Juke Box Man. He whipped out a box of magical tools, and before I could say Hoe Gardin three times, the music was back.

And all was good in Silverlake again.

Back on the Juice

2008-03-12T20:29:00.000-07:00

I blogged a while ago about my experimentation with FRS Healthy Energy products and about how they generally tasted like crap. I started using the product after hearing some trust worthy endorsements and learning that FRS offered a free two week sample pack. While their products don't taste that great - unless you are into fake orange/lime flavor with a funny aftertaste, they are pretty good at providing energy. Since I have been taking them I don't feel that afternoon post-lunch slump that had become my existence.

Since I had run out of the free goods, and the not-free stuff is kind of overpriced, I had decided to shelve the notion of taking FRS Health Energy products forever - or at least until their next promotion. Then, just as I had given up, I got an email from them offering me 30% off my next order. I still resisted. THEN, I got a second email offering $100 worth of free products if I re-uped my order.

The coupon/gift hook was too much for me to handle. So I placed my order.

There are two points to this story. First, my Free Radical Scavenger order is on its way. Five boxes of their antioxidant health drink, two bags of antioxidant health chews and one orange concentrate. Second, and more important, it seems FRS is like then men in my life. It comes in a tidy little box. It starts off being mostly bad. Just when I come to accept the bad and focus on the upside, it runs out on me. I feel sad for a bit, and then forgot about it. And just then, at that VERY moment, it reasserts itself into my life. Typically, havoc ensues.

And speaking of the men in my life...

1. Certain Someone:: still awesome.
2. T/S, Shit Fuck Face:: still an asshole.
3. The Philosopher/Aristotle Boy:: briefly regained his status as The Philosopher by sending a bevy of nice messeges but then promptly lost said elevated status by returning to blowing me off.

My favorite trader joe became the scene of my worst nightmare.

2008-03-11T21:29:00.000-07:00

Maybe not my worst nightmare, but pretty damn bad.

Imagine me, the Trader Joe hoarder that I am, just having finished loading eight (yes, really) boxes of Lentils Madras into my basket. I had just reached for two bottles of organic ketchup when who moseys on by but Shit Fuck Face from dating nightmares past. And he was at MY Trader Joe.

Normally, my instinct* in such a situation is either 1) flee from subject, 2) feign ignorance and pretend not to have seen subject, or if drunk, 3) confront and make out with subject.** In this instance, I went with a 1/2 combo. Flee the isle and ignore having seen subject. Subject, however, ignored the rules of engagement to followed me. Subject further wanted to pose the most absurd inquiry EVER:: "Why didn't you call me?"

My next instinct was to squeeze the hell out of the tubes of ketchup in my hands and squirt organicy tomatoey sugary goodness all over him. But then I thought of how the Ketchup deserved better and instead said:: "Sorry, I got really busy" and walked away.

I was so distracted on my way out that I forgot to grab a bag of my favorite delicious cheesy poofs. =(

*and thereby the proper instinct.

** Option 3 is not recommended.

Confused.

2008-03-04T22:36:00.000-08:00

Confusion seems to be pretty much the only thing I am feeling these days. I spent all day at work slaving over a filing that needed to be made - which filing was of course due yesterday. The partner who assigned me the wretched task assured me that the whole process would take no longer than three hours. Diet Coke, he said emphatically, you will be done in time for lunch. Fast forward eight hours later and there I sat, in the same seat, still not done. And still not having had eaten lunch. Feeling utterly confused.

I rushed out of work to meet up with the Philosopher for dinner/drinks. Shortly after my previous post about the confusion he was causing by toying with me, he made the best decision any man can make. He asked me out. Our meeting started out with the usual pleasantries - "hello, how are you, where you from, who you be with" etc, etc, blahpity-blah. As our blood alcohol levels rose, so too did the fun quotient of our conversation. By the time we were three glasses of wine deep, I had already convinced him to flash his very silly yet endearing tattoo (to the extent a tattoo can be endearing) and a sort of truth or dare (minus the dare) banter was exchanged. We covered religion (he has none), drug use (he does none),

and a few other things (that I don't recall). It was fun. And, alas, it was confusing.

Which confusion begets further confusion - because why should a fun date be a source of confusion? Probably because of the underlying confusion I feel about Certain Someone. He and I had exchanged several emails yesterday trying to come to a mutual understanding about what the hell was going on between us. And I thought that we had. But then instead we spent the better part of the time since then not communicating at all, or being mad/sad/confused at each other.

Will I ever reach an age or a place in my life where things just make sense and I know what to do and how to handle situations?

I am starting to doubt it.

2008-03-03T19:56:00.000-08:00

Someone totally hated on my blog today. This person started off in such a way that it seemed like they were giving me a compliment. Like, "Hey, your blog totally sucks but that other shit you write is pretty good." Then when I gave this person a chance to take it back, such person reaffirmed their belief that my blog sucks (and suggested that I know as much) and further extrapolated that if this person read my blog, but did not know me in real life, this person would assume I am crazy. After said person was done insulting me, this person asked that we just pretend the whole conversation never happened.

Four things came to mind when all this happened::

1:: I don't like when people give me an insult gift wrapped in a compliment.

2:: I don't like when people give me unsolicited negative feedback.

3:: If someone thinks that I seem crazy after reading my blog, this person likely also thinks I am crazy in real life. And maybe I am, because I don't think that what I write here is all that different than what I would say/do/think in person. Sure, this blog only reflects a very selective sampling of my life, but still, it is me. And frankly, I like it. And I think it is funny. And if others don't and want to get all judgmental on it, they should just stick to reading my reviews instead.

4:: I am being immature and posting this because my feelings are hurt.

I get by with a little help.

2008-03-01T02:28:00.000-08:00

Words are flying out like
endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe

I had agreed several weeks ago to join a few of my closest friends to go see a Beatles cover band known as the Fab 4. I like the Beatles as much as the next person. Assuming the next person is a passive Beatles "fan." And further assuming that "fan" means having their number one hits records and being able to sing along to the chorus of their songs on the radio. But interest in going to see a bunch of forty something year old men PRETEND to be the Beatles? Not so much. Still I agreed to go, mostly just because my friends are awesome and I like to hang out with them. Well, that and promises of alcohol.

When we arrived at the show, I was less than enthused. First of all, the venue was this wacky supper club type place called the "Canyon Club." Think pirates of the Caribbean meets an opium den. And if that wasn't bad enough - and trust me, it was pretty effing bad - the place is in Augora Hills, which it turns out is one of those far away places that need not be visited. Ever.

When the show started, my morale plummeted even further. As I watched four men prance around the stage in bowl cut wigs signing Can't Buy Me Love the thought "what the hell am I doing here?" ran through my mind quite a few times. But then, somewhere between Hard Days Night and Yesterday, something changed. Probably, it had a lot to do with the fact that I was two vodka and soda's deep. More so, though, I think it was just the infectious (in a good way) nature of Beatles songs. You basically have to be a terrorist or a vegan not to like them. Once I got past the absurdity of watching a band pretend to be another band, fake accents and all, I could almost imagine that I was hearing the Beatles live, or at could understand what it must have been like to have had that opportunity.

Pretty awesome I imagine.

And I can't lie, when they played With a Little Help From my Friends, I got a little choked up. I've been talking a lot about Evil Troll and how awful a person she turned out to be. But what I should be talking about is my true and dear friends who are so wonderful and who I really love. And who really do help me get by. So to all of those friends, near and far, (most of whom who will never read this because they don't know that it exists and the two that will read it) - thank you.

And finally, I am very curious how it must be to be the fake Ringo in a fake Beatles band.

Aristotle Boy Strikes Back.

2008-03-01T02:20:00.000-08:00

[Enter star wars theme music.]

My life, and my love life in particular, is destined to be complicated.* Thusly, just as I had given up hope [literally, the last oz. of hope drained out of me two seconds before the following took place], AB email me.

DAH DAH DAH!!!

His email read as following (in a Diet Coke style nutshell): Hi, I was thinking about you. I just wanted you to know that. But because I want to keep you guessing about whether I am interested or not, I am not going to ask you out or otherwise engage you. I am instead going to say "talk to you soon" and make you exist another week in agony. Because that is how I roll. Philosopher style. Joop.**

Anyhow, the good of it is that I am not getting the total blow off, which makes my fragile (not really) ego feel better. The bad of it is...I was sooo (kind of) over it. And now I am back under it.

Also, things are further complicated by the fact that I have been spending some quality time (read, he spent the night) with Certain Someone. Nothing naughty happened. But still, it is confusing because I like spending time with him.

Calgon, take me away!

* Yes, I do know that is because I make it so.

** Joop is a word that I am going to single handedly bring into existence. I it is meant to be a jestful*** combination of bye, later, over and out, woot, hoot, yup and [WORD YOU LIKE] all rolled up into one. It is awesome. Trust me.

*** Don't know if "jestful" is a word. Let's just pretend.

Irrefutable signs that the world is ending.

2008-02-27T22:52:00.000-08:00

The Philosopher has made contact. Or rather, I should say The Philosopher has responded to contact made by me. I know, I know - I ought not to have contacted him after I *specifically* told HIM to call me. But I texted, so it's cool. Actually, it is juvenile and silly. But then so am I, so it is also fitting. Anyhow, dice it how you will, but contact was made. And what resulting was a reaffirmation of what I already know. Aristotle Boy (his new, less regal title) is NOT interested.

The textversation (conversation via text) went a little something like this (actually, nothing like this, but you get the gist):

Me:: Hi.
Him:: Hi.
Me:: When are we hanging out again?
Him:: I totally want to hang out again. BUT - I am basically busy for the next millennium so let's just keep in touch mm, k? And if I ever free up - which I won't - I will let you know.
Me:: Umm, ok.

So yeah, there you have it. I got the "don't call me, I'll call you" brushoff.*

Also, I think the world has gone mad (and not only because Aristotle Boy doesn't like awesome me) but also, I was in the lounge today and overheard the following:

Person #1:: I really want to go see There Will Be Blood. I heard that Daniel Day Lewis is amazing in it.
Person #2:: Yeah, he is. The movie itself is just okay**, but he really makes it worth watching.
Person #1:: Yeah, he is like Will Smith. He really just shines in every movie.

Did someone just compare Daniel Day - billion Oscar winning, My Left Foot, Last of the Mohicans and In the Name of the Father starring - Lewis to Will "mother effing Welcome to Miami and Independence Day" Smith? Yes. Someone mother effing did. Like I said, mad world.

And finally, I can hear a frog outside my window. I live in Hancock Park. Not the jungle or where ever it is frogs are founds. And no, I am not on shrooms.

* I thought about whether I would have preferred Aristotle Boy simply not having responded to my text, and the truth is, I'm glad he did. Even though he didn't say what I wanted (rat bastard), at least there is a sense of finality to the whole thing now. Kind of.

** Totally false. The movie is awesome.

Not a date type event.

2008-02-25T22:27:00.000-08:00

So begins another round of self imposed mania. I tell myself every time I meet someone new that this type of hysteria is to be avoided – as it leads only to bad outcomes. But it seems that after 28 years, certain behaviors are ingrained and can not be quelled, despite my greatest efforts.

I recently met someone new whilst at dinner with some friends. He shall be known heretofore as The Philosopher. Why? Well, because for better or worse that is what he is. Personally, I think it is pretty neat, but probably only because I know nothing of the subject matter. And I tend to think most things I know nothing about are neat.

The Not a Date:: The food itself was pretty blah, but the company was quite good. Conversation flow was steady and strong. Laughter was engaged in. Small flirtations were exchanged. After dinner, we went out for more drinks at The Philosopher's suggestion (or at least I think it was his suggestion). Not only that, but we closed the bar down. Again, to be taken as a good sign in Diet Coke's Book of Dating (or Not Dating, in this instance). Assuming such a book actually existed. Which it should.

The Goodbye:: Slightly awkward. No psychical contact attempted. The Philosopher stated that he had had a nice time. I reiterated. He suggested I call him. I suggested he call me instead because I suck at phone talkage/usage.

The Aftermath:: 1 A.D. (1 day After Date (or Not a Date)) I received an email from The Philosopher to the effect of "hey, had a really good time, you are awesome, let's talk soon." Ok, so I made up the "you are awesome", but that is what it should have said. 2 A.D., I wrote back that I too had a really good time, and that we should hang out again. And since then? NOTHING!!! No email. No call. No nada. This is bullshit, I say! Am I overrating given the time frame? Yes, clearly. And yet, this is bullshit, I say!

To be continued...

I actually wrote the above post yesterday, making it several days now with no contact. The thing is, it is not so much that I am broken over the lack of contact from The Philosopher (maybe a little disappointed), but it literally did not occur to me that there was a possibly that he wasn't into me. And yet, he is not into me. Reality check. Ugh. Reality blows donkey's behinds. I need a break from reality. And from boys too probably.

Car accidents and other stuff.

2008-02-23T21:00:00.000-08:00

1:: About a week ago I hit (a love tap, really) a car in the parking garage at work. It was only half my fault, but of course no one believes that because I have been ordained worst driver in the history of the universe. The car I hit, was of course, parked. Because who doesn't find parked cars really hard to avoid sometimes? So anyhow, once I hit the car, I threw a total (internal - mostly) temper tantrum.

The temper tantrum consisted of three stages: (A) FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK! This is the seventh car I have hit in as many months. I am so going to lose my insurance. I am such an asshole. Someone stab my face off with a fork. (B) THAT ASSHOLE PARKED LIKE A TOTAL ASSHOLE! That car is totally at fault for parking like such a jerk. Damn him and his stupid expensive looking Audi. Damn him to eternal car damnnationville! (C) WOE IS ME!!! Why can't I catch a break? First the Evil Troll situation and now THIS?!?! WHY GOD WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO??!?!!

The whole thing took about 90 seconds. Then I left a note and headed home (stopping at taco bell on the way for a double decker with sour cream - you know, comfort food)

Next day, I awaited anxiously for the guy (I don't know why I assume it is a guy, but I do) to call. No call came. Still feeling guilty, thinking maybe the guy didn't get my note, I left another note. Now, several days had passed - and STILL NO CALL!!!

So I think maybe the guy doesn't care that I hit his car? Which would be awesome.

2:: There is this lady who uses the bathroom on my floor (and by "my floor" I mean the floor on which my office is situated) that is totally bat shit crazy (or just really vain). I see her in there all the time literally starring at herself and playing with her hair. This morning, she was in there with a gigante bottle of hair spray going to town on herself. She was spraying like mad woman from the moment I entered until the moment I departed (approx 2.5 minutes). That was 9:05 a. It is now 3:03 p and it still reeks of her hair spray.

To crazy bat shit mad hair spray woman, I beg you, please stop.

3:: Evil Troll FINALLY moved out. God Bless America. Democrats and Republics alike.

4:: I am on a baked potato eating frenzy. Two lunches in a row now, and there is a 70 percent chance of another tomorrow.

5:: This makes my head explode.

6:: Certain Someone and I are no more. I mean, individually, we still exist. He just no longer happens to be my Certain Someone, I suppose. Sad.

Boo hoo :(

2008-02-18T19:38:00.000-08:00

I feel inexplicably, unrelentingly down today. No thing has happened that rises to the badness that I am feeling, but I can't shake this feeling of gloom and doom. Or is that two feelings? I don't know. I don't know anything :( Except that I have presentation tomorrow that I don't want to make, and that I am not prepared for, and then I will suck at :(

I suck at life.

Making things up.

2008-02-13T23:02:00.000-08:00

Beginning back in my college days I had a friend with whom I had a very special connection. We were friends in real life too, but mostly we just liked to email each other long, often hilarious, and sometimes inane opuses (opi?) about everything and nothing. Once I started law school, we slowly fell out of touch because 1) that is what happens with the passage of time and 2) he had a really contentious relationship with this girl who I was friends with which made my friendship with him strained. His name (real name) was Lucas Garcia. There are probably a billion such Lucas Garcia named men out there, but if one day you - the Lucas Garcia of United States Naval Academy fame - google stalk yourself and come upon this, email me. I am curious to know how you are. And if you are still alive.

I bring Lucas up because he and I used to have these long (like trillions of words exchanged) conversations about life, love, death, humor, fear, etc. One time we were talking about words, how they take hold and gain popularity and become part of life. We decided to make up our own word. The word: Dafic. The meaning: One of those types of conversations/experiences that makes you think you just discovered something amazing or unlocked one of life's many mysteries, even if briefly.

I love that word. I am sad that no one uses it.

I also think there are two other words that need to be added to the English vernacular.

First:: Something representing a conversation that has taken place over email. I nominate eversation.

Second:: Amn't. As in "am not."

Energy Boost/Bust FRS Style

2008-02-11T22:40:00.000-08:00

I am really into grocery stores and the myriad of items contained therein. I like that at a grocery store, unlike my preferred shopping destination [Saks Fifth Avenue], I can purchase items with reckless abandon. I need not have any regard for prices, sales, etc. My buying power at the grocery store is infinity - and it feels neat. It is natural then, that I am a reader of hungry-girl.com, who shares with grocery obsessed readers like myself glorious new items that can be found on your local market shelves. Now Ms. Hungry (or whomever she is) has been touting an energy beverage/weight management system called FRS. I don't know if she is in cahoots with the company, but they happen to be offering a free sample to users on her web site.

Being a fan of Ms. Hungry, free stuff, and energy I placed my order last week. Imagine my excitement when my box arrived on Saturday. And imagine my further excitement when I decided that I was going to give the whole system a test go today and share my thoughts with you, my dear readers.

9:30:: The experiment begins. I started with the FRS Plus low calorie liquid concentrate. It claims to be an "antioxidant health drink for sustained energy and performance." Sounds good, plus its only 20 calories a serving. If you like lemon/lime emergen c, you are likely to enjoy this. There isn't the fun of watching the fizz that comes with emergen, but the taste is pretty similar. FRS has a stronger flavor and a little bit of an icky aftertaste, but I kind of like it. Because I am strange like that. Also, the beverage is VERY bright (think sunny delight on even more food coloring), which does freak me out a tad. No noted energy boost as of yet, but the beverage was only just consumed. I will report back in the afternoon. On Monday, I am usually a sluggish useless employee. If that is otherwise today, FRS Plus is probably doing its job.

10:15:: I left my office for a meeting, leaving behind my energy boost libation. Learned a very important lesson. Do not allow FRS plus to sit idol for too long. Bad things happen. As to energy, I am not falling asleep, so that is good. I am however, blogging instead of working, which is not good.

12:26:: Just picked up lunch. I am not starving yet to the point of wanting to eat my thumb, which is unusual. FRS also makes claims of being a weight management system, so my non-starvation may be a result of their product. BTW - the baked potato I got from Brighton Coffee Shop in Beverly Hills is delicious.

1:42:: The delicious and inorganically large baked potato I ate for lunch is sitting like a brick in my belly. Feeling sluggish. Time for another boost of energy. This time, I am trying the FRS Plus low calorie antioxidant health drink in wild berry flavor. This is supposed to delivery sustained energy and enhance mental focus. At the current time, it is merely enhancing my gag reflex. This stuff taste b-a-d. Good thing this was free because it is going in the trash.

2:23:: Since the wild berry was a bust, I turned instead to the FRS Antioxidant Health Chews. Health eeeewww is more like it. Like the beverage before it, it tastes bad. Each one has 15 calories too! Although I guess the good part of it tasting bad is that I won't be tempted to eat them all willy nilly. I must say though, I do feel a little energetic. Not like I want to go for a run or anything crazy like that, but my eyes are not glazing over as they normally would this time on a Monday. The 4 o'clock to 6 o'clock hour is the real test. Usually around that time I am suicidal with munchies and sleepies.

3:35:: I am starting to feel slightly jittery (like when one drinks too much caffeine). But, I am neither hungry nor sleepy, so that is good. Also, I've only had one diet coke thus far today. Since my employer offers them ice cold and free, I've been drinking like 4 a day. One is a vast improvement. [Note: if this all works out, I may soon become FRS and a side of fries because I am trying to give up the Diet Coke.]

5:19:: Diet Coke be huuungry. I don't know whether to reach for another chew or a kit kat bar.

5:57:: Went for another chew instead of the kit kat bar. Such discipline! I feel a little better. I feel good actually. No jitters and no hunger. I am also still currently motivated to hit the gym tonight (I brought my gym cloths to work so as to avoid my usual routine of being motivated, going home to change, and then never leaving the comfort of my couch). Plan is to do 60 mins of serious ass busting, sweat inducing cardio.

10:37:: I went to the gym and had a pretty decent workout. I am now home, and have a little more energy than I need at this time of night!

Overall, FRS taste like crap, but it seems to do something. What that something is, I am not quite sure.

My ultimate superpower.

2008-02-10T22:20:00.000-08:00

I've long had a fascination with super powers. Being an only daughter, I was never exposed to comic books growing, and so I attribute my interest [obsession] to Evie Garland and her time stopping powers on Out of this World. I distinctly remember one time having to study for a history [or "Social Studies" as it was called then] test and thinking long and hard about how well I could do on the test if only I could stop time and study for an extra five hours. Yes folks, I was a school nerd even then.

For years following my discovery of Evie, every piece of coinage I ever tossed into a wishing pond asked that I be granted a super power [before that, I used to wish my Teddy Rupskin** would come alive. Now I wish for either "eternal happiness," whatever the fuck means, or immortality. I clearly had/have issues]. Back then, time stoppage or invisibility seemed the best power. While they clearly both have merit, I came to a firm decision a few years ago that I'd rather have the ability to teleport.

Imagine it. No sitting in traffic – ever. Need an outfit to wear on a date? No probs. Just teleport your outfit needing tush into your local Marc Jacobs store and whalah, a new outfit is yours (you can return said outfit via teleportation post date so as to not be a thief). Feeling like pasta for dinner? Why not have it in Rome? Who needs a hotel when you can always teleport back to the comfort of your own bed. Really, the possibilities are boundless.

Certain was I that teleportation was the bee's knees. UNTIL – the following happened last Saturday. Certain Someone and I were sitting in the Arclight pre-movie when the topic of milk shakes arose. Our movie didn't start until 10:30, so we were in need of a late night milk shake spot. We thought of a few [translation: I thought of one], but it was certain to be too much of a cluster fuck on a Saturday eve. I looked around the full theater and thought, surely, someone in here must know a nice place to get a late night milkshake.

And then it occurred to me what a phenomenal superpower I had happened upon [probably, some zany x-man out there can already do this, but its new to me!] My power would be having the ability to put a thought in people's heads and hear their response to that thought. Work with me here: I get everyone in the theater to think "milk shake" and certainly someone would think, "wow, I could really use a milk shake tonight, good thing [X] is awesome and open late."**** Brilliant! It is like having your own person google search, wikipedia, and citysearch all rolled up into one, all using the brain power of the people around you. Plus, imagine the hilarity in being able to get a room full of people think of the same absurd thing all at once. Endless entertainment. Example: you are in a conference room with a bunch of people negotiating a deal, when all of a sudden, the opposing counsel can't get the thought of Mitt Romney in his underwear our of their head. Priceless? Yes, yes it is.

An earthling's a creature who is plain as can be
He's not as unique as you or me
His body comes in lots of different shapes
They say his relatives were chimps and apes
But if you take my advice for what it's worth
You could be happy there on earth

** Interesting story about my beloved Teddy Rupskin. I received Mr. Rupskin (or Ruxpin as I called him) as a birthday present. On the day of my actually birthday party, he went missing. My dad had this friend back then who was a guru/intuitive named Garg. In an attempt to ease my sobbing (aka shut me up - my dad is not a patient man) he called him an asked him to talk to me. Garg asked me to name a number. I called 18. He told me that my teddy was where the dirty things go. I proceeded to ransack the house. I found teddy in the laundry bin in my room. Both creepy and awesome.

**** Last night I finally got my milk shake at a place called Milk on Beverly near Pointsetta. And let me tell you, it was both over priced and overrated. I could only take two sips before I felt as though my stomach might explode. Not impressed. Still need to find me a delish milk shake.

Past. Present. Future.

2008-02-04T21:55:00.000-08:00

I know, I know. I've totally fallen off of the blog wagon. But fear not dear readers, but I am back. My absence is due in large part to the fact that my life for about a week and a half had turned into a total ruckus mess. Things are ever so slowly getting back on track.

Here is a brief synopsis of what has gone down:

1. The Evil Troll has sort of moved out. In what is (hopefully) her final indication of insanity, bitchery and bad judgment, she had a New Roomie move in without telling me. I met New Roomie (AFTER she had moved in!!) briefly before I was leaving the house last night. Which leads to me the following conclusions:

a) new roomie is a nut job for being willing to move into a house with a person whom she has not met.

b) Evil Troll is as bad a person as I had previously thought.

2. New roomie seems nice enough. A little bit on the not so bright side, a little strange, and way young, but nice enough just the same. HOWEVER, she seems to be dog sitting Evil Troll's dog while Evil Troll is out of town this week which is strange because a) they don't know each other and b) umm, they don't know each other. Why would you entrust your dog to a total stranger? And why would a total stranger take responsibility for your dog? I have no effing idea. Also, while we are on the topic of dog, New Roomie's dog left a poop on the carpet today, which better not be there when I return home.

3. Items 1 and 2 above have both caused a great deal of stress in my life, but I am happy that Evil Troll is nearly gone (even though all of her personal belongings are still in my house for god knows how long) and I don't have to see/deal with/hear her anymore. She is one step closer to being expunged from my life, which is a welcome change.

4. I closed a huge deal. Unlike in my old job where no one would have cared, at my new job a) I was told to take a day off, b) I was moved into a HUGE partner sized office, and c) I got a thank you from every partner in the firm, one of which called me, "source of pride for the firm." If you knew me in real life, this would be extra hilarious.

5. Certain Someone sent me really beautiful flowers today for no reason because he is a really nice guy. January turned out to be a pretty bad month for me, at least emotionally. Unlike December, which was also trying, January was devoid of much excitement, adventure and silliness. I need to get my life back in order, starting with resuming PSBF (which was a dismal failure last time around). I am going to use February, which is pretty much my least favorite month in the history of months, to do that. And by March, everything will be back in its right place.

6. How awesome would it be if all of my strife with Evil Troll resulted in a segment on This American Life about roommates. It would almost all be worth it as I am obsessed with TAL.

Ode to my Dog. Love you Maxi-pants!

2008-01-27T19:35:00.000-08:00

A short while ago, I was enveloped with a feeling of sadness.

I was fuming over the fate of my friendship with the Evil Troll. I was feeling sorry for myself for being involved in an untenable living situation. I was getting nervous about how much money this whole debacle is going to cost and how I am going to deal with it. I was anxious over the fact that my MCLE compliance is due in like 5 minutes and I don't know where a single of my pesky certifictes are. Basically, I was wallowing in my life.

And then two things happened. First, Aimee Man's song "wise up" rotated onto my ipod and into my ears. And then my adorable love bug of a dog came over and plopped down on my lap.

1. Aimee is right. I need to wise up. Evil Troll is an Evil Troll and will continue to be so. I just have to accept that and stop letting it bother me. The reality about the roommate situation, both the old one and finding a new one, is that I can't make it work out. I just have to do the best I can, try to be the best person I can be (being a good person is really hard right now, because I am really really really mad), and hope for the best. And not worry so much about it. Worst case, I lose a few thoudand dollars and learn an invaluable lesson (I am not sure what the lesson is, except maybe don't live with Evil Trolls). Instead of worrying about the MCLE certs, all I needed to do was find the pesky suckers - which I did (kind of - found some and did the rest online).

2. I can't be *that* mad at the world when I am reminded of my sweet, lovely, innocent, beautiful dog.

So anyhow, I am still mad. But I feel much better.

The Evil Troll Makes Me Break My Promise.

2008-01-27T14:38:00.000-08:00

The Evil Troll with whom I am forced to co-habitate has literally gone off her rocker today. Also, I know that I said that I would not write about her again, I can't help myself. She has literally ruined my day. AHHHHH!!!!!

She sent me a text that read:

"Do not throw away my copies of Variety that get delivered to the house. I don't throw away your things and you have no right to throw away mine."

I replied [Note: I regret very much that I replied. Evil Troll obviously is crazy* and thus incapable of communication with. Trying only makes me 1) as crazy as her and 2) frustrated] with the following:

"I have never thrown away your Variety mag or anything of yours. You are way out of line."

[Note: I truly have not thrown away her magazines. As much I dislike her (and I dislike her a LOT) I am not the type to do something to someone else or their property.]

She writes back: "There were 2 of my variety's that I have never seen in the kitchen trash can when I arrived home. Since you and I are the only two who live here, and I didn't throw them away myself, you had to have thrown them away. When I see my property in the trash and I did not put it there, it is not out of line to tell you not to throw my things away."

I write: "Like I said before, I did not throw them away. Rest assured that I have no fear of telling you if I had. Let's just agree to disagree and not touch each other's stuff. I dont want any more trouble with you. I just want my peace and for us to just leave each other alone."

Troll writes: "Not believable Diet Coke. The newspapers didn't get up and walk themselves into the trash. It doesn't make sense that neither you nor I threw then away and yet there they were on top of the trash. Perhaps Certain Someone, your parents, or another house guest of yours? Either way, whether it was you or someone you brought to the house, you are still responsible. I don't know about the touching each other part of your text. That's a weird thing to say and doesn't make sense in the context of this conversation, or any for that matter. Im sure neither of us want to spend our sunday texting about this, so let's just agree not to throw each other's things away."

1. Are you fucking kidding me? Was this conversation really had?? Yes. Yes it was. Also, why in the hell is she digging around in the trash? Creepy.

2. How am I expected to deal with this insane person who accuses me of doing things I am not doing??!?! Her telling me I threw her magazine away is like me telling her she did it. And then her saying she did not. And then me saying she did!! CRAZY!! And I have to live with her. It is seriously like torture.

3. What is this strange thing she said about "touching each other." Was the trying to be funny? Is this a further indication of her crazy??!! I don't get it.

4. Most important, how am I supposed to feel comfortable living with this insane person? I feel like she may try to poison me in my sleep. For real for real. This is not right. To this point, I was at my parents house tonight, and my Mom's friend Margarita, who is just the kindest soul ever, and who has met Evil Troll on several occasions said:

She is the kind of girl that would try to sleep with your husband while you are out of town.
Funny because it's true.

5. Troll is a really bad person. If Karma does exist (and I think it does), she better tread with a lot of caution because the Universe probably has her on a most wanted list.

*This latest event is not all that Evil Troll has done to show her crazy. She also took it upon herself to send a totally dishonest letter to our landlord "terminating our lease" for an alleged breach of the lease by landlord...WITHOUT TALKING TO ME!!! The co-tenant on the lease!!! Crazy. She then sent me am email accussing me of lying to her about how much the bills are. I then sent her a copy of all the bills. She then decided that she still was not going to pay them. Why? Because she is CRAZY!!! And there is soooo much more.

Parking. Many try but few succeed.

2008-01-24T23:55:00.000-08:00

I am not contending that parking in Los Angeles is always a simple task. Some areas (much of West Hollywood comes to mind) have cars packed within an inch of their life (some might call this "bumper to bumper"). I am talking car all up on the sidewalk action. Still other places have pesky hills AND parking congestion...and we all know parallel parking on a hill is IMPOSSIBLE! For me at least - and since this is really all about me - my truth is your truth.

I concede that sometimes the parking shit show in LA can't be avoided, but other times I can't help but see how someone is parking and think - "this person if a mother effing asshole". For real for real.

And hence this post. I give you:

Part II of Driving Lessons From a Really Bad Driver that May or May Not Suck At Life: Parking.

Parking, like the masterful use of the turn signal, is usually pretty damn easy. There are really only two options. First, we have the parallel park.

Parallel parking is admittedly the trickier of the two parking options. Sometimes, a spot is just the exactish size of your car and requires precision-like understanding of geometry, topography, physics and religion to get into. Those spots, in my opinion, should be left for the pros. Most of us layparkers have no chance in hell of fitting our metal heaps elegantly into such spots. My advice to my readers: if you see such spot - keep moving. If you are reading this blog, you probably are not very smart and should look for something more probable. Jkjkjk, you are BRILLIANT.

Also, if you are in one of those one lane squished up streets (as in, not enough room for two whole calls to fit side by side) and your parallel parking skills are below average, you aren't allowed to even attempt a park if there are cars waiting to pass. Sorry, those are the breaks. All of Spaulding's commuters should not have their lives put on hold because you don't have the skills that should have been acquired by the age of sixteen and a half.

For the larger parallel spots, the rules of etiquette of parallel parking are key. Do not, and I repeat - DO NOT - leave a safe zone buffer of two feet in front of you or behind you. Particularly if you have a piece of shit car. And if you have a fancy car that you are terribly worried about, you should have saved your money and gotten a place with an actual parking garage instead. If I see a you have parked your car so as to prevent anyone from parking in front or behind you, I wish bird poop to fall upon your hood.

The next option is head in parking. This is easy people. The rule is simple. FIT YOUR CAR BETWEEN THE PAINTED LINES. This means, your car may not spill out into the space next to you. Your suburban can not go into a compact space. Your car may not abut 5 feet out into the passing lane. And really, that's about it.

Them be the rules of parking.

And as for me? I valet.

I need the light. Where the hell is it?

2008-01-21T21:25:00.000-08:00

I was intending to write about how I was famous because my live blog of last week's project runway was linked to at Blogging Project Runway (the hands down bestest blogging PR site). Then I was going to write about how I may have a TV addiction issue because I actually got mad at Certain Someone last night when he seemingly broke the TV. Then I was going to write a few random, funny and charming paragraphs about random, funny events that took place over the course of the weekend.

But alas, life took a nasty, unwelcome turn changing the course of today's post. My roommate, fueling our ongoing house drama in her own special, indignant, deceitful way has taken an action that has swiftly caused her to become my least favorite person in the whole wide world (counting only those people who I know personally). Actually, she probably was before this latest event too, but her position is now cemented - at least for the time being.

All that has gone on with my roommate, aside from causing me to rue the day that I ever allowed her into my life, introduced her to my family and friends, and foolishly moved in with her, also makes me wonder if it is easier to spend one's life in solitude, not allowing one self to be impacted by the actions and complications presented by introducing others into your life.

When I look at my own life, the people I love bring me an immense about of joy. But they also cause me about 97% of the pain I experience - the other 3% being paper cuts and like. Take dating for example. When I am not dating anyone, I typically do not feel anything is amiss. In fact, I tend to feel strong and comfortable in singledom and enjoying spending time making adventures out of otherwise mundane tasks. But when I am involved in a relationship that goes bad, it makes me feel like total shit - like my whole world is crumbling and things will never be as I want them to be. I go into an emotional tailspin which can take weeks to recover from. And such feelings of gloom doesn't even have to be precipitated by a serious or meaningful relationship - we are talking about any joe schmoe.

The same thing is happening with Roomie. Basically, before her, I was perfectly happy. Then she enters my life, behaves as though she is devil spawn (maybe she is) and I am the one left holding the bag and feeling like crap? How is that fair?

Probably what I feel reflects more on the way that I approach relationships than it does the value of relationships in general. I know that I have to be more discerning about the people that I give my time and love to. And I have to not be afraid to cut off a relationship once it starts to cause me harm or ceases to be healthy - basically, I need to have higher standards for myself.

But the fact is, I have repeated the same unhealthy behavior (the pattern being care for someone more than I ought to, allowing myself to be hurt by them, being completely and irrationally heart broken, and then shut the person out of my life completely and never looking back) so many times in my 28 years, that I don't know how to stop.

Whats more, I don't even know that I want to stop. While my accept everyone/everything until it blows up in my face approach has caused my heart to bruise many times, I've also had the pleasure of having built so many amazing friendships that I know will last the rest of my natural life (the afterlife too, if there is one). I have an amazing circle of friends (sadly, most of whom live not in Los Angeles) that I know I can rely on - so I must be doing something right. But then I also seem to be having a growing circle of used to be friends that I now can't stand, so I am obviously doing something wrong too. (Actually, Roomie is the only friend I can't stand - she shares that spot with several men I have dated)

I need to see the light. Where the hell is the light? Actually, I know what the light would say. I need to stop relying on others to make me happy, thereby taking away their power to make me sad. I just don't know how to implement this into my life. Either way, I have decided not to let myself ruminate in my anger any further. It does not help me to feel better.

And so, this marks the last time I will ever speak of Roomie in this forum. While she unfortunately may be in my line of site from time to time, she will no longer have the benefit of being in my thoughts, being featured in my glorious blog, nor having a place in my heart.

Aside: At the behest of certain someone, I am experimenting with the use of bold. I feel like it is overly dramatic. Even for me. Thoughts?

The electoral process is for the birds.

2008-01-17T22:30:00.000-08:00

I read an article on the world wide Internet today that got me thinking. The gist of the article was that some judge decided that Nevada's Democratic Party can go ahead and set up precincts in Las Vegas casinos for the caucuses set to take place this weekend. Then the Teachers Union got all in a tizzy because they aren't on the strip. Then the Nevada Culinary Workers Union (can't make this shit up) got all in a tizzy back at the Teacher's Union accusing them of hating black people...err, I mean supporting Hillary.

Anyhoo, long story short, the absurdity of it all made me wonder: Whatever the fuck ever happened to the notion of reasonable campaigns? Having a limited amount to spend, casting a secret ballot, having said ballot get counted, and then determining a winner. That is how I got elected as my third grade class representative, and let me tell you folks, the system worked pretty fucking well.

Back in my politico days, each "candidate" was permitted three dollars* (with inflation, probably around 5 of today's dollar's - which is a fortune for a third grader) and 2 days to campaign. No mud slinging, name calling, or finger pointing permitted (sadly my "Paula Is Poopie, Pick Me Instead" buttons never got to see a single lapel"). On election day, children were shooed into the auditorium during lunch where they could cast a secret vote for their fave (me, obviously) in makeshift voting booths. Post lunch, votes were tallied by the principal, recounted by the vice principal and then read aloud over the intercom system. No exit polling, pundit predictions or the like permitted.

And let me tell you - us kids were way into it. More so than birthday parties where parents brought in cupcakes (with sprinkles!!!). More so than heads up seven-up on rainy days. Even more than the last day of school. Ok, fine, maybe not the last day of school. But you catch my drift.

Nowadays, even civil minded people can't be bothered to vote. Probably because voting takes place using absurd, stupid, outdated, laaaaame caucuses in the middle of casinos on the las vegas strip, campaigns last forever, too much money is spent and too much time is wasted. And sometimes, our votes don't even get counted.

* Funding was provided by my public school, and thus the taxpayers of American. Thanks for that, btw.

In other news, Former Prez Clinton had a hissy fit over questions he was asked regarding the Nevada caucuses court case by a reporter. He accused said reporter of being accusatory. Hah!

PROJECT RUNWAY: A live blogging experiment

2008-01-16T21:43:00.000-08:00

Pre-Game show::

The countdown is on (10 minutes, to be exact)!! The Show of All Shows (aka Project Runway) is about to begin. I am nervous/excited/hungry. I hope that I am not a failure at live blogging - and thereby, life.

In order to enhance the experience, I have decided to introduce a new element in the program which I have deemed "Project Run and Drink". The rules are that every time Cry Baby Ricky sheds a tear, all participants in Project Run and Drink must run to their liquor cabinet and take a swig of whatever high proof concoction is available.

The Show::

10:00:: The show is starting! Whohooo!

10:01:: Christian does his hair. Ricky-poo cries. Jkjkjk. Almost though!

10:02:: Kit does annoying "yes" thing with her mouth upon hearing the challenge is to be avant-garde. Certain Someone announces that Chris is the "Dark Horse," showing he knows nothing about anything. Sweat P rudely usurps Christian's "Fierce" - and sounds decidedly UN-fierce (although it is really is Tyra Banks' "fierce" I suppose).

10:04:: Ricky-poo announces that he wants to "play" with a girl. Doubtful.

10:05:: Team Challenge!! NOOOOOO!!!!!! Certain Someone called the Chris/Chris combo and is busy basking in his own glory.

10:07:: Designers describing their looks. blah blah blah. Jillian and Victoria are already at it. I predict a girl fight.

10:08:: Priceless Christian Quote #1 - "If I was a diva, my name would be ferosh." As in ferocious.

10:10:: Certain Someone declares that Rami and Sweet P have the hots for one another. I think I may have to break up with him (see 10:02 and 10:05). Also, my fingers are tired.

10:11:: SHOCKER!!! Rami is draping. Hold onto your seats.

10:12:: Rami talks about his ass. Yes please.

Commercial Break.

10:16:: Show resumes. Sweat P hopes Rami is no longer being a b-i-t-c-h (when did Rami turn into such an asshole, BTW). Ricki poo almost cries.

10:17:: ANOTHER LOOK! The shock, the horror! Designers need to compose a sellable look for their avant-garde look. Ricki poo almost cries. Jillian does her signature "omgomgomg, I am just gonna DIE" thing. I am pretty sure she annoys me. And not in a good way.

10:19:: Rami and Sweet P are the new Jillian and Victoria. Girl fight!!!!

10:20:: Models come in for fitting. Rami continues to...wait for it...drape. One of the models shows off her bon bon. Her bon-bon as it turns out, is better than the dress designed for her.

10:21:: Jillian continues to annoy. She is complaining about not being done and running out of time. I am no longer sad that she lost the candy challenge. Christian and Chris make their model look like a bad gift wrapping job. Awesome Christian Quote #2: "You gotta bring it back from the side - and TURN!" while walking the catwalk like the glorious queen he is.

10:23:: Sweet P is the new Ricki! May need to change the rules of Project Run and Drink to account for this latest twist.

Commercial Break. Note: Watching show is not NEARLY as enjoyable if one has to type like a mad woman at the same time!

10:29:: I am officially in love with Tim G. The way he says "designers AND models." I just love it. Rami nods his head. Jillian nods her head. Nathaniel the hair guy makes an announcement - winner gets to be in Elle magazine.

10:30:: Tim G. dubs Chris/Chris "Team Fierce!" LOVE IT.

10:31:: Ricky tries to get Tim G. to give him the answers to the test. Tim G. rebuffs his offer.

10:32:: Rami has really become the most annoying Project Runway character of all time. He is completely trying to hoodwink Sweet P and make it look like she is being problematic, when in fact, he has been intolerable the entire time. He needs to get body slammed by Chris.

10:33:: Jillian freaks out about not being done. From now on, when I say "Jillian!" it means "Jillian is complaining about X."

10:33:: Chris is wearing the most awesome outfit EVER. Animal print! Whohoo. Jillian! Tim G. does interesting hand clap maneuver that made Certain Someone comment. I am not, however, sure what he said because I tuned him out at around 10:11.

10:34:: I am really worried about Team Fierce. Their dresses look like 1) crazy layer makes no sense style and 2) un-hot librarian style. I hate to admit, but I kind of like Rami's dress. A lot a lot. He is still my PR nemesis though. I only caught a glimpse of what Ricki poo and Kit did, but I am not sure I like it.

Commercial break.

10:41:: Heidi is wearing a dress that is oooogly, but as always, she looks hot. I'd do her. Sweet P appears to be a fan of guest judge Alberta Ferreti.

10:42: Rami's dress is pretty awesome. I like it. And I also like Sweet P's dress. Well done. Rami is still a little bitch though. Nina G either wants to vomit on Team Fierce's dress or she wants to put it on. I can't really tell. I kind of like the avant garde dress after all because it was just so damn crazy and unique...but I find the ready to wear a little boring - but not ugly.

10:44:: Ricki Poo and Kit - Overall - hated it. I did, however, enjoy the back of the avant garde dress. The rest of it was like bad 80's prom. The ready to wear was just too blah. Very forever 21.

Victoria and Jillian - Loved the jacket. Love love love love love. The ready to wear was no where as cool as the jacket for the avant garde, but still pretty cute and neat looking.

10:46:: Judges announce that Rami/Sweet P and Ricki Poo/Kit are the lowest score. Rami looks like he may explode. The judges wonder aloud whether Rami will ever do anything in his life but drape. Diet Coke thinks it is unlikely. Sweet P says words that should never ever be spoken: "explosions out of her rear." Um, I vote no on that.

10:47:: Judges lambaste Ricki/Kit for their monstrosity of a dress. Ferreta says a bunch of words I can't understand - but I like how they sound just the same. She is probably right.

10:52:: Judges have made their decision. Contestants come back out!!! Ricki poo on the verge of tears.

Commercial Break. I want Rami to get voted off because I think he needs an ego check (in addition to the body check to be delivered by Chris as suggested above) but I think Ricky poo is the more likely "auf". He has basically consistently sucked. And not in a good way.

10:56::

The winner: CHRISTIAN!!! Who does a frightening little jig upon his return to the rec room.

The Loooooser: Oh shit!! Ricki is in! Sweet P is in! It's between the Rama-Lama ding dong and Kit.

10:58:: Kit is OUT sauce. I am shocked!! This is totally wrong. I am mad mad mad!

10:59:: Kit almost cries. But then does not. And then says she has "two full suitcases of friends..." Umm.

11:02:: I am done with this. Live blogging is hard work. And so is being as awesome as I am. And yet, I continue.

Next week on PR::

Ricki cries and Jillian! Jillian Jillian!!

Also::

Does anyone else think that Nicki Taylor looks freakishly weird on that model show??

The Universe giveth, and the Universe taketh away. Or something.

2008-01-15T20:40:00.000-08:00

::First and Foremost

All is smoothed over the the parental units. Being an only child with parents who are pretty much obsessed with me, it was only a matter of time (especially when you take into account my unrelenting charm). This time it took longer than normal - 18 consecutive waking hours of hostility - but all is good in Familyville once again.

:: Second and Lessmost

I spoke too soon re: having found a new roommate. Turns out Potential Roomie #1 decided to pass on the Diet Coke Estate on the basis that she could not install a dog door. Clearly, a lie. And not even a good one, which means she is not fit to live with anyhow. Like I said before, I hate a lie. But if I must be subjected to one, I prefer it be a good one. Probably, she was intimidated by my unrelenting charm (see above). It is a blessing and a curse. Tonight, I am to meet potential roommate #2. We shall see how this one turns out.

:: PSBF Update #1

Progress has been slow (read: Nacho's for lunch, and worse for dinner). By some grace of god (or whatever) I lost .5 pounds despite stuffing my face with every cheesy puff that crosses my path. I will take the charity loss, but I really need to buckle down. Clothes. Feel. Tight. Can't. Breath.

:: Big News

Tomorrow, I am going to attempt to live blog the greatest show of all time - Project Runway. Tune in folks! It will assuredly be funny. Or maybe it won't. But it will be something.

Parental fiasco, unfunny people and damn good pizza.

2008-01-13T18:01:00.000-08:00

Last Night:

The evening started with a bang, when Certain Someone and I found the best damn parking spot in the history of parking spots in Franklin Village. Next followed a stiff drink at La Poubelle, and a trip to Prizzi's Piazza - a.k.a. the best effing pizza I've ever had, counting the hundreds of slices of pizza consumed during my "New York Period." After the glooorious pizza, the night took a decided turn.

The culprit? A vomitously bad show at Upright Citizen Brigade. Now I realize this venue has a lot of different offerings, and some are bound to bad - but I mean, come on. My grandmother can tell better jokes than the people that took the stage. About ten "comedians" took the stage, each one worse than the one before. Apparently many people think that telling a bad joke and then following it up with "mother fucker" or "fucking bitch" is funny. Not so much, as it turns out. Eight dollars, two wasted hours and one 20 ounce of can of Bud Light later, Certain Someone and I proceeded to the shady sushi spot next door.

The place calls itself "TAI yo" and it is decked in the shadiest decor imaginable (think Chinese 99 cent store). There, we each had some sort of lemon martini concoction. The waiter also graciously dumped a full one on top of me, and then rewarded me for my discomfort by not charging me for the drink he spilled on me. Gee, thanks. And another thing about this "TAI yo," the place is in the center of a block that is literally spilling over with people, and yet, in this particular place, Certain Someone, myself and some shade ball with a giant bottle of cranberry juice were the only patrons. Very strange.

Once we departed from Franklin Village, we went to my place only to discover that I had neglected to take keys with me. From there, it was off to the liar of Certain Someone - which seems as though it has not been cleaned since 1992.

Today:

We woke up this morning and got some delish breakfast from some place on Larchmont, then traveled back to my place to meet - duh duh duh - my new future Roomie. The gal seems pretty cool. Like someone I won't have anything to blog about, which is a welcome trait in a roommate.

Soon thereafter, just as I had gotten comfy on my couch, disaster struck. My parents decided that they were going to drop by unannounced (which by the way, I hate - infinity hate) and demand I go run errands with them. I refused. My parents met Certain Someone which was totally awkward and then left angry (like, really really angry). I tried calling my dad later in the afternoon and he hung up on me. Twice. Communicating my parents is like dealing with junior high school kids sometimes. All emotion, no rational. My parents, despite my 28 years, refuse to acknowledge that I am an adult that can do what I want and spend my time how I please. It is beyond frustrating.

So now, I am relieved that my living situation seems to be in order, and bummed that my parents are being mean. Plus, I have the after Sunday comes Monday blues.

Some Mac and Cheese may be in order.

It's cookie time, it's cookie T-iiimeee - err, no it's not.

2008-01-12T14:14:00.000-08:00

I have a bit of a sailor mouth (which perhaps explains, at least in part, my fascination of Chef Ramsey* of Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares). One four letter word, however, causes my naughty word loving lips to frown. The word: D-I-E-T. But ladies and gents, the time has come. No longer can I ignore those pesky holiday pounds that have narrowed my grand wardrobe down to three dresses, my Jesus Skirts, and knee socks.** And so begins Project Stop Being Fat 2008 ("PSBF 2008"). I want to lose 7 pounds, me thinks. And you, dear audience, will have the (dis)pleasure of joining me in accomplishing my mission.

Day one of PSBF beings tomorrow, which means tonight's outing with Certain Someone will be treated like a giant asteroid is careening towards the earth and Bruce Willis and Ben Affleck aren't around (they are picketing with the WGA, or something) to fly into space and destroy the son of a super nova before impact.***

So yeah, lots of food and shit will be consumed.

* Of "listen big man, as long as I have a hole in my ass, those potatoes have been in the friar," fame.

** Diet Coke thinks knee socks are hot, and thanks to the assistance of American Apparel and eBay has amassed quite the collection.

*** Reminded of when I went to see Armageddon. In the theater. And liked it. Yes, I am embarrassed for myself. Sadly, as Certain Someone pointed out, it seems my taste in TV/Film maybe has not improved. I like "good" movies - but also a lot of really bad ones. Speaking of bad movies that are soooo good, can someone do something to cause someone to remake Troop Beverly Hills? I think Hanna Montana should be cast as the girl singing the "It's Cookie Time" song in front of Jane Fonda's Workout. God bless that movie.

In other news, I may have a New Roomie soon. Also, my taste for soon to be former Roomie continues to decline. Each day brings a new indication of how much she is not the kind of person I prefer to have in my life. Sad. But the more I reflect on the course of our friendship, the more inevitable this end result seems. With itself is sad. Oddly enough, at the exact same time as my friendship with former Roomie started inching towards the pooper, 1) I sparked a new friendship with an awesome gal that has been in my life since I was a child, but I never really got to know, and 2) I met Certain Someone.

Life is awesome like that sometimes.

I want my peace back.

2008-01-09T20:24:00.000-08:00

"Friendship is the marriage of the soul, and this marriage is liable to divorce." - Voltaire

I. Am. So. Frustrated.

BUT...it is Project Runway night and Certain Someone is coming over to join me in watching. No negatively will be permitted to interfere with what should be a glorious evening. Yup, that is the plan. If I repeat my "no ill will - be kind" mantra over and over, perhaps it will sink in.

Speaking of Certain Someone, things are going swimmingly well (that is good, right?). He has, thus far, turned out to be quite wonderful. But we are reaching the point at which men in my life start to show their c-r-a-z-y. Crossing my fingers that this will not be the case with the one. At least not until we get through The List (currently about thirty items strong) of things we want to do together. jk jk jk. I hope he lasts longer than that!

In other news - there is no other news. Aside from my time with Certain Someone, the dramz with soon to be former Roomie, and the monstrosity that is work - not a thing going on. Well, unless Project Runway night counts. Which I don't think it does.

p.s - I hope to regain my peace, and with that my creativity real real soon like. Sorry for the lackluster blogging of late. My mind has temporarily been hijacked by unrelenting thoughts.

Dear Blackberry, I hate you. Hard.

2008-01-03T21:09:00.000-08:00

I fired up a new posting with the intent of joyously expounding about the glory of Thursday's end of the work day when one happens to have Friday off (which I happen to have off this week) - when ZIP! BOOM! BOP! BAM! - I get an email from a client indicating that there will be no end to my Thursday. Maybe ever.** Why did this happen? I will tell you why. Because clients have Blackberry's. And so do their attorney's. And so they can be in the airport on a flight to Hong Kong when they all of a sudden remember to forward you a certain GIANT HORRIBLE ANNOYING document, with a note that says to make said document more giant, slightly less horrible, and infinitely more annoying at once.

Which all brings me to my point: The Blackberry.

The employee/Blackberry relationship strikes me as being very much like how I imagine marriage (except my own, which will be perfect).

At first, they are neat. Pleasant to be around. Provide opportunity for entertainment. Useful for communication. Slowly the casual amusement turns into co-dependence. You can't leave home without Blackberry and Blackberry can't stay charged up without you. Pretty soon, you can't be anywhere without Blackberry. Let Blackberry out of your site for five minutes are you are afraid what type of shenanigans you are missing out on.

Then as soon as it came, the honeymoon period ends. Blackberry takes up too much room. None of your friends like Blackberry and are starting to complain about your constant companion. Can't they get some alone time, they wonder? Blackberry has met your parents, and they too were largely unimpressed. But still, there are benefits. With Blackberry, you never feel lost. Blackberry provides you a sense of comfort you have grown accustomed to.

A short time later, even that begins to fade. Slowly, the surface of Blackberry starts to crack. Blackberry starts to brings you nothing but obligations. You fear/loath every encounter with Blackberry. The good times are gone. You long to live a life without Blackberry. A life where you can be free, and roam the streets alone, ready to be swept off your feet by the next technological gadget that comes your way. But it is too late. You have signed a contract. In blood. Blackberry, with help of AT&T, owns you for the rest of your natural life (one two year contract at a time). Everybody warned you not to be lured in by the fantasy. You did not take heed. You allowed yourself to be sucked into the vortex.

And now, your life is over.

Anyhow. Yeah. I hate my Blackberry.

** In the interest of being fair, I do actually like my current job a great big - despite this recent slap. And it is still exponentially better than my old job [Note: by "old job" I mean "the old torture chamber to which I would report on a daily basis"]

The last few days have been a frenzy.

2008-01-01T21:02:00.001-08:00

The last few days, beginning as of last Friday, have been a whirlwind. There have been moments of bliss proceeded by serious lows proceeded by joy and then sadness again. As I sit on my couch right now, I feel incredibly lucky, a little sad, tired as hell, stressed about the day that awaits me tomorrow at the office and like I want to burst into tears for no real reason.

Rather then get into the nitty gritty, I will present you with the highlights:

High Points

:: New Years Eve Party (Whohoo!) was a blast. I reconnected with some friends I have not seen in a while, I realized how awesome other friends are and that I should be hanging out with them more and just had a lovely time overall. And best of all - a Certain Someone was kind enough to help me with the clean up this morning. And let me tell you, there was a LOT to clean up. It seems that not a single person threw a single item in the trash the entirety of the party.

:: Dinner with a Certain Someone at a lovely place called Lou, which looks like a crack den from the outside (true story). The experience, however, was a thin slice of heaven. The Lentil Stew I ate still makes my mouth water. The "pig candy"? Simply brilliant. A bottomless supply of glorious wines with fun to say names. Great company. And best of all - within walking distance.

Low Points

:: Roomie told me that she is moving out of our place. Which for me, basically means Craigslist City. As in, I have to find a stranger to live with which totally freaks me out. It also means a further blow to a friendship that is already teetering on the brink of oblivion (I like to be dramatic sometimes).

:: Right now. I feel a strange sadness at this moment. Maybe because it's the day after a lot of fun, and I know tomorrow I have to return to the grind of life and work. Work mostly - as I have so much of it to do (in fact, I am supposed to be doing it right now, but clearly am not). Also, I seem to have hit the first bump in the road with a Certain Someone. I think everything is okay, but it still scares me a little that maybe they aren't. And also, I have to deal with the Low Point mentioned above. Ugh.

Summary

I expect things may be a little rough the next few days and I am doing my best to try to prepare myself for what may come. Still, I am very optimistic for what the next year will bring. I am determined to stay focused on the great many wonderful things in my life and not get bogged down in the rest of the madness.

Question

I have been told that the color choices I have made of late with respect to this here blog are hideous. Do people agree?

High school disappoints once again.

2007-12-27T21:12:00.000-08:00

Ten years after having escaped high school - nearly enough time to have overcome the trauma of the whole experience - high school has come back to spank me once again, only this time in the form of a reunion.

First, it must be noted that my high school reunion was at Bubba Gump Shrimp Factory. Really? Yes, really. I could not make this shit up if I tried. Actually, I could - but why? If you have never had the opportunity to have gone to this establishment, I have one word for you. Don't. It is a pit. A pit that smells of fish - fish smell being one of my top two least favorite smells in the whole wide universe (the other being that awful "Bleach Tree" smell that permeates through West Hollywood. Ewww.) After we all became acclimated to the evil smell, mostly with the help of bunches of liquor, the real fun began. And by "fun" I mean a bunch of drunkies (or perhaps that was just me) going from table to table telling everyone how great they look, how nice it is to see them, and a bunch of other blahs.

After Bubba Gump Shrimp Factory, we went to a placed called the Mai Tai Bar. Two minutes into our arrival, and my friend turned to me and said:

Did you ever think in your life that you would wish that you were back at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Factory?

Genius.

At Mai Tai, more drunkenness happened, and then a decision to engage in some late night dining happened, and then the long drive back home happened (Note: I was not driving. Diet Coke does not endorse drunk driving...or any kind of driving for that matter).

All in all, a total disappointment. Not sure what I expected really, as my high school was never like those newfangled high schools like on TV and in movies where quirky big word using hipster high fashion kids impregnate each other and burst out into song and dance at basketball games. Nope. None of that. Just a bunch of self proclaimed nerds trying to figure it all out. After ten years, it looks like most of us still haven't.

Somewhat Related Point: If anyone knows anything about what those evil bleach tree's are, I would love to know.

Less Related Point: At a 5 drunk level, I decided I was going to have a New Years Eve Party (whohoo!). At 10 drunk, I proceeded to invite every one and their mom to my New Years Eve Party (whohoo!). Turns out my New Years Eve Party (whohoo!) may turn into High School Reunion Part Deux.

Year in Review: Lessons I've Leaned Part I.

2007-12-26T20:41:00.000-08:00

The year has yet to end, but the inevitable truths keep piling up. I figured I better get a jump on the new year and start my Year In Review with Lessons I've Learned, presented in two parts.

Lesson 1: I have an overactive imagination that causes me to think of insane, and sometimes accurate, scenarios

If something happens that is a little odd, I automatically assume that some real strange shit is about to go down. Case in point, last Friday (as in Friday before Christmas when no person in their right mind would share bad news with another person) I get a call from my Boss's assistant that the Boss wishes to meet with me before the end of the day. This is strange because it has never happened before. True, I have only worked at the fine establishment at which I am employed for a mere two months, but still. Rule of thumb: Big Boss wants to talk, you worry. Plus the whole call had this ominous tone to it (really, it was an email, but whatever). Things that run through my brain (in order): OMGomgomgOMG!!?? I am in big trouble. I am fired. I am going to be reprimanded for reading and occasionally writing blogs at work. I am going to have to work over Christmas. OMGOMGOMG!!! Never did I consider that perhaps it could be something positive. And what was it? Something positive. Conclusion: I am an idiot, and a jumper to negative conclusions and/or extraordinary imaginings.

Second case in point, about a month ago I awake to find my Roomie (aka former Bestie*) has segregated our fridge (literally, we have a side by side and she moved all my stuff to one side and all of her stuff to one side. Strange, yes. True? Sadly, also yes). What do I think? I think of her action as a hostile declaration as to our friendship, her opinion of my choice in milk (I like vanilla soy, she unsweetened almond) and a whole plethora of other bad nasty things. Reality: Err, I was actually kind of on target with this one. While there were excuses made as to why our perishables could not happily co-exist, the truth was more or less what I had imagined. Conclusion: I may be crazy, but sometimes I am right.

Lesson 2: I am a very bad driver.

I actually knew this long before the dawn of the new year. 2007, however, reaffirmed my suspicion. Thirce. Conclusion: Poles, people and pets in the greater Los Angeles area (particularly those along the stretch of Beverly Blvd. from Downtown to Beverly Hills) ought not rest easy until I have earned, won or divorced my way into enough money to hire a driver.

Lesson 3: Most of the things that I have been upset about in 2007 (and in life) are stupid.

Case in point. I shed a good many tears over a certain guy I had dated earlier in the year who was a total jackass. Really. A total jackass. I exaggerate not on this one. Fast forward to now. How often do I think about this guy? Only when I try to reflect on the last year and think about what I learned. Thinking about him doesn't make me wish that I had never met him. Because the truth is, it was fun - kind of a lot of fun. What I do wish is that after it was over, I had not wasted my energy being sad about it. Such is the case with most things in my life. Conclusion: I cry too much about dumb stuff.

Lesson 4: I am a waster of money.

A few months ago I ordered 40 dollars worth of food from Poquito Mas just so I could get one burrito delivered. If I was a country, I would be one with deficits. Big ones. Conclusion: I am a jackass when it comes to money, and perhaps otherwise too.

Lesson 5: I love parties more than just about anything else.

Really, nothing gets me excited like the notion of a party. Whether it is one that I am planning or merely one that I am attending - I love me the parties. The socializing, the people old and new, the friends, the laughter, the anticipation, the unabashed drunkenness. Yes please, can I have another? Conclusion: I am going to make a concerted effort to attend and host more parties in 2008, starting with a New Years Eve Party (whohoo!).

Lesson 6: I am a lucky daughter of a gun.

Really, thinking of it brings big salty tears to me eyes. Perhaps this is in large part to a lovely weekend I just spend with dear friends and family, but D-A-M-N, I am lucky girl. To have so many people in my life that are as glorious as they are, and to be STILL lucky enough to be meeting new people who may be equally glorious. It's just so - nice. Any by nice, I mean totally fucking amazingly awesome. Conclusion: No matter what is going wrong, as something inevitably will be at all times, I have to remember the lucky me part.

Part II of lessons learned to follow in time.

* Earlier in the year I wrote an entry discussing the latest in my situation with Roomie and how upset I was about everything that had transpired. I then promptly deleted it because I felt guilty knocking our friendship (or maybe I didn't want to admit for very long that things are irreparably** damaged). But the more I think about it, the more I remember that the whole point of my starting this blog, and then keeping it anonymous (no person in my day to day life knows of its existence except for Certain Someone) was that so I can write honestly and unafraid of what others think of my thoughts and ideas. If I have to censor myself, that defeats the whole purpose. So even though it still feels a little strange, I am going to go ahead and put it all out there. Again.

** When I say "irreparably" damaged, I am not really sure if I mean it.

My maybe stalker.

2007-12-23T21:04:00.000-08:00

About one point two five months ago I went out with this guy that I had met at a bookstore. Not just any bookstore either. I met him at my FAVORITE bookstore in Los Angeles.

Note to the Ladies before I continue my story: Don't go out with guys that you meet at your favorite places because when things go badly, as they are likely to go, you can't go to that place without a sense of fear that you will run into the person. I know it is temping to think, "I like X bookstore...he likes X bookstore - match made in heaven." NO, such reasoning is faulty. What you really should be thinking is "I like X bookstore...I am not likely to like him for more than 9 minutes because he is probably crazy, thus I should not taint the pleasure I derive from X bookstore by using it as my own personal match.com substitute." Unless of course, the guy in question is exceedingly hot. In which case, carry on. There are other bookstores in the world.

Back to my story.

So I went out with Book Guy. It was one of those innocuous are we or aren't we on a date type dates - coffee across the street from the scene of the meeting. During our kinda date, he employed the oft used second date entrapment technique.

Note to the Men before I continue my story: While the making of a second date while still on the first date tactic can go swimmingly well if the subject is into you, such a maneuver should only be employed by the most skillful dating master. It is likely that unless the person you are with is a total raging bitch (which is entirely possible), you will get an acceptance under duress. HOWEVER, such acceptance is likely actually a rejection. Confusing, I know. But the nut of it is, if you ask a girl out on a second date and she says yes while sitting across the table on your first date, don't get your feelings all hurt if she never answers any of your phone calls, text msgs, etc., etc.

Back to my story again.

I fell into the trap. I said yes - all the while thinking "no way in hell I am going out with you again because as it turns you, you are really annoying me." Sadly, Book Guy was not so tuned into my reluctant, "ummm, sure." He tried for like a month to make a second date happen. At first, I would make up excuses (all via text) why I could not. Finally, I just gave up and stopped replying to his advances all together, thinking - surely he will get the point. And at first, he did. And then he didn't anymore.

Starting a few nights ago Book Guy (who is also incidentally also grad student at UCS guy) has adopted a new technique that is downright creepy. He left a voicemail that went something like: "Hey, Diet Coke. I haven't gotten a chance to call you in a while. I am going to be at UCS tonight until 7. How about I just come by after." Actually, that is verbatim what he said. The problem I have with this message is he speaks as though a) he believes I actually have a desire to see him and b) we have that sort of casual "just swing on by" type relationship. And trust me when I tell you, a) I don't and b) we don't. I obviously ignored the message, mostly because it was crazy, but also because I tend to ignore all things I don't like.

But THEN today, I get the following:

"Diet Coke, what is going on? I left you a msg and you didn't call me back. I think we have chemistry and I want to see you again."

Umm, no. Obviously. NO! If we had chemistry, we'd have gone out more than once over the course of the two months. And I'd have returned one of your 18 phone calls instead of sending you to voicemail and then texting you back about how I can't hang out. And finally, damn you for making it so that I can never return to Book Soup in comfort again.

Oh, high school. How I don't miss you at all.

2007-12-19T21:08:00.001-08:00

My impending ten year high school reunion caused me to reflect back on my life back when I was a young and spry college student (which by the way, was easy to do because I have always kept a journal. Note to world: you should all keep a journal.) And it turns out, my younger self was a total idiot.

This is what Diet Coke thought was what during the college era:

These are totally the best days of my life; it is soooo awful that I got an A- on that economics paper, I will never get into grad school with such dismal grades; school is so stressful, I can't wait to start working; I am totally going to marry my college boyfriend and we will have kids named Isabella and Conner; I will forever be BFF with the girls in my freshman dorm; I will forever live on the East Coast, because it, like, totally rocks.

And now:

These are actually the best days of my life. It turns out every year gets to be the best. Totally got into grad school, which it turns out, I wish that I never went to in the first place. School rocks. I would go back in a nanosecond. I dumped my college boyfriend basically as soon as I left my college campus. Connor is the worst boys name ever. I am good friends with about two people I went to college with. Neither of whom lived in my freshman dorm. Los Angeles is where it is at. The East Coast, western Massachusetts in particular, like, totally blows. And also, "seasons" are total overrated.

I don't know why this is significant. But basically, the point is my high school reunion is coming up people! And I am getting old. And it is NOT okay!!! And also, I will soon get a chance to reunite with my favorite group of nerdy, awesome drunkards and be merry and wasted (and old).

Rediscovery.

2007-12-17T23:38:00.000-08:00

Every once in a while I rediscover something that I used to love and then forgot all about. Probably, as I do with most things, I ate/played/used/did it infinity times in a row until the very thought of it made me want to do something bad to my myself and/or others. And then a certain amount of time passes and then like magic, that long forgotten/shunned thing pops back into my life. And I can't imagine why in the world I would have shelved such a glorious thing in the first place, because basically, it's so fucking awesome.

Today, I made two such rediscoveries.

First: The Turkey Sandwich. Simple. Amazing. Healthy-esq. Will likely be my lunch and dinner for the next four to eight days.

Second: Ocean Breaths Salty by Modest Mouse. What an excellent song. Probably not top ten style, but if it should ever play on the radio, I promise the tuner will not be messed with. And if anyone I am with even comes NEAR the tuner, such person will lose .02 points on the "How Much Does Diet Coke Like X Person?" scale.

Also, does anyone still say "tuner" when referring to the radio channel changer? Why am I sounding like a 60 year old all of a sudden?

Well that is that and this is this.
Will you tell me what you saw and I'll tell you what you missed,
when the ocean met the sky.
You missed when time and life shook hands and said goodbye.
When the earth folded on itself.
And said "Good luck, for your sake I hope heaven and hell
are really there, but I wouldn't hold my breath."
You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death?

One of my top five days.

2007-12-16T15:50:00.001-08:00

If anyone should ever ask me about the highlights of 2007 (not that I am frequently - or perhaps ever - asked such question) I would, without hesitation, site today as one of best days of the year. For starters, it was a lovely, sunny and astonishingly clear day in Los Angeles. I had the pleasure of waking up at my parents home beside my absurdly cute dog, having gone there last night for some loving comfort after a tumultuous Saturday. I left my parents house early to head home and prepare for my hosting duties for the afternoon adopt a family charity bonanza I had been planning. I drove from my parents house on the west side to my own place in Hollywood in 12 minutes flat. On a typical day, I can't even get from my house to the nearest gas station in so short a time. Best of all, my favoritest song of all time, Jeff Buckley's "Lover, you should have come over" was playing on the radio during the ride. Sure, I have the actual CD in my car [which, by the way, is one of my top five albums] but there is something extra special about hearing a song on the radio sometimes. After arriving home, I was Captain Efficiency and got the place together with time to spare. When the guests started arriving, it was sheer, unadulterated, mimosa aided joy. Five hours of do-gooding and chatting with a glorious group of people about hilarious things. Like for example, the male tendency to pee on things when drunk. Fellas, can you please explain, because us ladies are perplexed. I laughed so much, it re-ignighted my whooping cough, which had briefly abated.

Today was one of those days that reminded me how awesome life, mine in particular, is. To all the people who made my today so gloriously lovely, each of whom is nearly sure to never read this, I am so grateful. And thank you!!!

Included for your viewing pleasure is a small sample of the gift giving/wrapping action that took place today. Hooray for bows and pretty sparkle paper!!!

omgomgomgomgOMG!!

2007-12-13T23:17:00.000-08:00

I made this post disappear.

I am the world wide pinball federation champion of the world.

2007-12-13T20:21:00.000-08:00

The much touted December 2007 Work Day Adventure finally took place last night, and what an adventure it was. Negotiating the streets of Los Angeles turned out to be quite a challenge. Certain Someone, who was driving, turns out to have the eye site of a bat. And I am not talking about those frugivorous bats that can see all good and shit. I am talking near blind. Certain Someone also STRONGLY dislikes traffic. All of it. Bad eyes + hater of sharing the road with others = a couple near death experiences, including one where Certain Someone thought it a good idea to sojourn the wrong way down the street and cut off half a dozen cars for no particular reason or gain. Once we got the driving situation under control (use of the work control here is pretty wishful) and found our first destination, we were faced with the trials and tribulations of parking. Four laps around Hollywood boulevard and we ended up at a city sized parking structure at Hollywood and Highland, which for a parking structure, was pretty damn amazing. We did not receive a particularly warm welcome at Power House, the bar we went to. But no matter, we had three dollar pints of Pabst Blue Ribbon to keep us happy. From Power House, it was on to Pavilions gro-SHREE store (see below for explanation), but not before we were nearly sucked into the vortex of two billions screaming children emerging from the Kodak Theater. After a narrow escape and a two dollar (american) parking tab, we were on our way. A man with glass eyes tried to suck my soul out of my body outside of Pavilions gro-SHREE store, but that disaster too was averted. After Pavilions gro-SHREE store there was less adventure, and more good old fashion TV watching. And then came slumber. It was an event filled night, but the highlights are summarized below:

ASS KICKED: I won't mention any names, but a Certain Someone failed to demonstrate that he had a lick of pinball skills. Certain Someone will assuredly deny his lack of pinball prowess. He may even say he didn't get a chance to show how truely great he really is. But let me just say, at the end of night, I remain undefeated in pinball, thereby making me the all time pinball champion of the universe. And Certain Someone? Let's just say there can only be one champion.

LESSONS LEARNED: In some zany parts of the world (Kansas), they call the grocery store a gro-SHREE store. That is just plaid odd.

ASSES ALMOST KICKED: My own. Some bars in Los Angeles that fancy themselves down and dirty dive bars do not look kindly upon people who look like they may have wandered in from the behemoth commercial tourist trap of a hotel recently erected across the street. When at one such establishment, try not to look like such person, and especially don't try to take the seat of the uber hipster as he gets up to go to the bathroom.

LESSON PREVIOUSLY LEARNED AND THEN RECONFIRMED: Every person in the universe agrees (except for like 5 or 6) that it is a bad idea – lunacy even – to have a costume themed wedding.

LESSON STRANGE LONELY FELLOW FROM KANSAS LEARNED WHEN HE MOVED TO LOS ANGELES: One can purchase a really big house in Kansas City for much much cheaper than one can purchase house in Los Angeles. And your neighbors are farther away from you, so you can run that meth lab in peace.

ASSES RIGHTFULLY KICKED TO THE CURB: Steven Rosengard of former Project Runway fame is possibly the last person, ever, EVER that I would to design an "everyday" outfit for me. I mean, did you see the episode? He expects someone to wear that dress? Really? REALLY???!?!!

LESSON LEARNED THAT WILL SOON BE FORGOTTEN: Beer, as it turns out, is not a cure for the whooping cough. Damn you science!

NOTE: I didn't feel like proofreading this post right now - sorry!!

The best VHS player ever.

2007-12-11T20:52:00.002-08:00

In preparation for the first great work night adventure of December 2007, Certain Someone was looking for a VHS player so that we might watch the "greatest documentary of all time" - Andre the Giant. [Note: this is Certain Someone's opinion, not mine. Although I, admittedly, have not seen this documentary, I doubt I will feel *quite* as strongly about it.] Apparently not liking my idea of scoring a VHS sold for crack money from a pawn shop, Certain Someone turned to craigslist, and it was there that he succeeded in finding the Best VHS Player Ever. So special is this VHS player that in addition to coming with the usual "remind," "fast forward" and "pause" buttons, it comes with a Limo!!! Yes, readers of Diet Coke's glorious blog, you read that night. A mother effing LIMO-FUCKING-USINE!!!

Highlights of the old school P-I-M-P 1995 Lincoln Continental Towncar LIMOUSINE:

** It has "Everything you can possiable think of work perfectly fine."
** "The paint is the origanal color"
** It "comes with T.V that comes out and closes with a push of a bottun."
** And best of all, it has what all us buyers like - a motivated seller: "I just needs some cash so please help me out and in return I will do everything possiable to show you that this is not a problem makeing car so if you can help"
** Affordable, at the fire sale price $3500 American.

Certain Someone has doubts as to the authenticity of the ad, but I still have some hope that Rick the limo seller is for real and we will be watching what may be the greatest documentary ever on the best VHS player ever.

Other Thoughts: Google is running an add for Diet Coke Plus on my web site which makes me sad, because of all the diet coke products that is the one that taste the most like what I like to call "assfoot flavor."

I hope I don't jinx myself.

2007-12-10T22:46:00.000-08:00

Things are going exceedingly well tonight.

My belly is filled with chips, salsa and copious (in a good way) amounts of diet coke.

I just had an unexpectedly pleasant conversation with Roomie. Now that we've finally spoken, I forget why I ever thought that we weren't really friends anymore. The things I've been thinking seem so silly now. But I am glad that I was wrong. We still have a ways to go, but I feel infinitely less sad about it.

Work sucks, but such is work. On the plus side, I may have jury duty tomorrow afternoon. That means a half day of the office people!

And a few other things made me happy too, but I feel oddly shy mentioning them.

And George, as he always does, handed me my car keys with glee.

I just scored another jesus skirt.

2007-12-09T22:41:00.000-08:00

I start end every evening with a search on eBay. And I start this nightly session on eBay by seeking out a certain skirt that brings me the same amount of joy as jesus brings the jesus lovers. I am talking BIG JOY here. The skirt has just enough stretch to accommodate even the most gluttonous meal, and just enough fashion to make it wearable for all occasions. Hung over breakfast at Eat Well? No problem. Dinner with the friends at El Coyote? Sure. Drinks at Belmont? Still works. Impromptu drunken sleepover with some guy? Covered.

Sadly, the jesus skirt is no longer sold at my normal go to retailers, or any retailer in the whole wide world for that matter. Even a pleading call to the designer's showroom proved useless. But eBay - my dear, sweet, hero eBay, has saved the day. I just purchased my third jesus skirt via an expertly executed auction snipe and I am happy as a peach. Because we all know that peaches are damn happy.

* I would like to note, that while I love this skirt dearly, probably more than I will my own children - it's craftsmanship is shit. I have had to sew (and trust me, Diet Coke does not sew for just anything) numerous times to keep these suckers intact. To the unnamed designer: you should flog yourself for having the audacity to charge such exorbitant prices for an item of clothing that was likely constructed by Indonesian monkey's.

The creator of the flaming margarita should win a big important prize.

2007-12-09T18:50:00.000-08:00

I went out with a Certain Someone last night for the old flaming margarita/Mexican food combo. And what I have to say about it is...a whole lot of nothing. Certain Someone has knowledge of this here blog and I wouldn't put it past the sneaky bastard to be checking out my musing in hopes of getting some super secret insight into my thoughts of our meeting. I mean sneaky bastard kindly, of course. Anyhow, I am off to the movies with Certain Someone. Both he and the movie (Juno) better be amusing! No pressure, no pressure.

I feel a little delirious.

Happiness.

2007-12-08T11:12:00.001-08:00

I've discovered that is it impossible to be unhappy while eating mac and cheese? At least for me.

Desiring to crawl back into my denial/utopia bubble.

2007-12-07T20:00:00.000-08:00

Roomie replied to my email (calling it passive aggressive, by the way). Most of what she said, I disagree with. I won't say as much though, because frankly, I am tired. I can't take any more conflict for the duration of 2007 and at least the first quarter of 2008. December, all seven days of it, have been horrid. Damn you, December. Damn you to hell.

An intuitive told me today (yes, this ACTUALLY happened) that she senses a great deal of mental activity...but no action. And you know, I think she is right. So this weekend, I am going to put in my bestest faith effort to drag my cute little butt off of my exceedingly comfortable and comforting couch and get out there and do some stuff. Thanks, intuitive called sunshine.

End Note:

Chocolate really is just amazing. Better than duct tape and the wheel even. Better than portable music devices. But not better than platform heels. God bless platform heels.

"I'll take a quiet life
A handshake of carbon monoxide
No alarms and no surprises"

Sometimes nothing is better than something.

2007-12-06T20:03:00.000-08:00

And the sagas continue:

1. On T/S. In anticipation of T/S being a flake, as he is wont to be, I sent the following email.

DC: We are on from tomorrow, right?

And then the following barrage of emails ensued (paraphrased and slangified version).

T/S: "Huh?"
DC: "What do you mean, "huh?" No more! I can't take no more!!."
T/S: "I thought we were doing something this weekend."
DC: "Umm, yeah. Like, tomorrow. And if not, you better tell me now or suffer my wrath for all eterntiy."

And then?

NOTHING!! Nothing seems to be the theme of the day (see below for further nothing action). So yeah, I am thinking the plans are off. I am further thinking my relationship with T/S is, for all eterntity, over.

applicable lyric: "I just made you up, to hurt myself."

2. On Roomie. I sent Roomie a passivish/aggressish text to the tune of, "umm, where the eff you been, yo. In case you care, I am here and I am fine." Roomie's reply? None. Nada. Nothing. Jesus, if you can't get your alleged best friend to reply to a WTF text after 5 days of not having heard from the girl, something has gone horribly wrong.

applicable lyric: "What happened to the good old days? I was kinda hoping this was all a stupid phase."

3. In General. What other else do you have in store for me, December? Wait, don't tell me.

applicable lyric: "Hide my head, I wanna drown my sorrow. No Tomorrow. No Tomorrow."

UPDATE!! UPDATE!!!

Before I got to post the above, T/S emailed me back that he has plans on Friday. And I don't mean with me. So that begs the question, why, devil spawn inconsiderate fuck face pickle mouth, if you had plans on Friday, did you fucking let me believe that we had plans??!! Also, let me point out, that had I not preempted the day of flakery...he'd have done it again. To you, T/S, I say - fuck you.

I of course, replied with a song lyric.

I really want something good to happen. Really really. Please. Universe.

Not so much "game over" anymore.

2007-12-05T21:51:00.000-08:00

Sooooo...T/S has been putting on the full court press. And I, ladies and gents, am a total sucker. When T/S asked me for a play day date this weekend, I search for my "fuck off" attitude. I searched for it long and hard. And then, with a giant smile, I accepted. Where is my resolve? My indignation at his blatant flakery?? My disgust about his lying ways???

And the score at half time is:
Diet Coke - 15
T/S/F +4

Sometimes I think men exist only to torture me.

Your friendship is a fog.

2007-12-05T21:48:00.000-08:00

I had, still have in theory I suppose, a best friend. And our relationship of late has totally began to suffer, to the point of non-existence, as a result of her dating a new fellow. The guy in question seems like a totally upstanding, caring, good man and one that she should indeed be with. The problem is that since they have begun dating she and I have basically ceased to be friends (aside from a few farcical encounters here and there). In fact, the last time I hung out with the friend in question (and I happen to live with her, thereby making the situation increasingly more absurd) was Halloween. HALLOWEEN!!!!! I considered saying something to her directly in hopes of salvaging something, but then I concluded, what is the point?!?! I hate to say/think/admit this, but if she ever truly ever were a friend of mine, she still would be. I understand that the dynamic of our friendship would naturally change as the result of one or both us entering into a serious relationship, but this here is total abandonment. So what am I to say. "Ummm, please be a better friend to me?" Seems silly. So I won't. Instead I will anonymously complain to the world wide universe how I am upset that this friendship has decayed into oblivion in the course of a month. I also realize that she probably sees things differently than I do. This must be how it feels to be in a bad marriage.

Anyhow, it all makes me think of a rage against the machine lyric that goes, "your friendship is a fog, that disappears when the wind redirects." Sad!!! I hope I am being melodramatic and none of what I have said is true.

On the bright side, and in totally unrelated news, I lost two pounds. This is all part of the Highly Scientific Experiment (more to come on HSE later).

Daily dose of humility.

2007-12-04T20:59:00.000-08:00

There is a man named George that works in the parking garage at my office. Every evening, he hands me my keys with such enthusiasm that it literally puts a smile on my face. It warms my heart and makes me think that if George can feel joy working the night shift in a dank underground parking lot, so to can I driving home to my fancy house in my fancy car.

Also, I am going to give get George a slamming gift for Christmas.

Thanks G.

Send me some love.

2007-12-03T23:38:00.000-08:00

Is anyone reading this fucking thing?

And by "fucking," I mean this awesome compilation of amazing and life altering thoughts.

The sun came out a tad.

2007-12-02T22:44:00.000-08:00

My Sunday has been far better than my Saturday. I went to a wake that ended up being like a giant supportive party, except all were in black. Jupiter impressed me. T/S is trying to work his way back in (and I am, thus far, doing a good job of keeping him out). All in all, a good day.

Bad Decision Making Brewing.

2007-12-01T16:27:00.000-08:00

This guy I met at a Halloween party. Jupiter his moniker shall be. He is charming in a weirdo, aloof, stoned sort of way.

His Pros: potentially smart, occasionally really fun, engages in like minded activities as myself, drinks well, nice seeming, happy.

His Cons: potentially an idiot, perpetually stoned and/or stoned seeming, lives outside my preferred 5 mile radius, doesn't seem like he'd be terribly amazing in bed.

Anyhow, he just texted and wants to meet for a drink tonight. Normally, I'd say no, as I am pretty sure I am not interested in him. In fact, I was just telling my friend a few days ago just that. But tonight, because of bastard face T/S and his flakery, I shall accept Jupiter's offer. Hopefully, such decision will not bite me in ass.

A new chapter begins. Or is an old chapter being reopened?

Game Over.

2007-12-01T14:37:00.001-08:00

T/S bailed on me, as I suspected that he would. Even a sucker like me has to draw the line somewhere. Ugh. I can't lie - it hurts.

Onward butterfly.

The Glory of the Turn Singal.

2007-11-30T23:58:00.000-08:00

I won't pretend to be a good driver. Most people who have ever had the displeasure of being a passenger in my car, a couple pedestrians and many a poll in West Hollywood and elsewhere have discovered my utter lack of automobile driving prowess. But if there is one thing I know about cars, it is the turn signal. And more specifically, its usefulness. Nay, IMPERATIVENESS.

I am sad to report, I have come across some eggregious uses (or non uses) of the turn signal of late. And it is for this reason that I have taken it upon my narrow, aborable shoulders to make the streets safer and present you all with this, my Primer on the Glory of the Turn Signal.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the turn signal has two purposes.

One: it should be used when - wait for it - making a turn. Yes, crazy how the world comes together like that sometimes. When you turn left, you indicate your intent to make such turn with a your LEFT turn signal. I emphasis LEFT because making a right turn while flashing your left turn signal does not actually signal anything. Except that you may be an idiot. Now imagine you are driving down the street. One lane. Normal 35 mph speed. And then you want to turn left, and so you do! And you don't use your turn signal, you rebel. What happens? The poor sucker driving behind you careens into you because said driver was not aware of your intent to slow down from a brisk clip to a crawl in order to turn. This is not a good situation. And this isn't a Palestine/Israel type conflict that can't be resolved. There is a handy solution. It is called a turn signal and it comes free with your car. Use it. Please.

Two: it should be used when changing lanes. This is helpful to put the person in the lane next to you on notice that any second, you will moving your massive, steal, several ton potential death trap across a horizontal distance. Again, assigning the appropriate directional signal to your intent is imperative. Right signal follow by lane change to your left? Car accident city. Please take note, the signal is not merely an afterthought. Flashing a signal after you are halfway into the next lane is about as useful as putting your girlfriend on birth control when she is 6 months pregnant.

And finally, even when you think you don't need to signal because the road is clear. Do it anyway.

- Diet Coke and a Side of Fries, at your service

*sticking "ness" on the end of any word is perfectly acceptable in my world of word usage. Don't hate.

It is Possible That I suck at Life. Maybe.

2007-11-29T23:36:00.000-08:00

So I met this guy (herein dubbed forever T/S - as in Tall and Skinny) a short while ago. Think months. I won't get into how we met, but it was unusual. I've been seeing him for about a month now. And it is dawning on my sadly, that while the sex might be phenomenal, the man behind the penis may be flaccid. Yeah, I went there.

The real, truly, tragic part of this realization is this: today, on November 29, 2007 I post this realization, a hunch I feel pretty strongly is the truth, and still, again and again, you will read posts from me complaining about how this guy is hurting, disappointing, pleasing, occupying and fucking with me.

Why don't I walk away? Because, folks, it seems I am a masochist. Or maybe I am bored. I can't really tell right now. My having formed this blog gives credence to the bored theory, but I get I suppose I may have a little self-torturing attitude in me too.

And just to beat a horse to death, the reason this guy may be/probably is a dud is because he presented himself as being honest and with barrels of integrity which is what I was drawn to. And already, I have caught him in two lies. I have two things to say about that. 1. Why are people such fucking liars? Even the people I love. Lie. I am going to count how many lies I tell tomorrow. I wonder if I am a liar too. 2. If you are going to lie...at least be good at it. I mean seriously, saying you are one place on Tuesday, and then forgetting where you said were by Wednesday is really pathetic. I am conflicted right now as to whether I am more offended by the lies or the lack of effort in telling them.

And finally, I didn't confront him about the lie. In addition to my masochistic tendancy, I also happen to have a penchance for denial.

Hello World. Meet My Insanity.

2007-11-29T23:06:00.000-08:00

Dear amazing, oft unkind, frightening and always humbling world:

I am feeling bold, honest, brave, and foolish - each in just the right proportion to cause me to want to share my life. All of it. The funny of it, the dirty nasty of it, and the wonder of it. I say now to my dear roommate, friends, family and poor souls I date - sorry to offend, as I inevitably will. Also, I am curious about this whole blogging business. I want to be hip. I want to embrace my nerd. And improve my spelling. Amuse myself. And hopefully you in the process.

Things about me. I am (much to my lamentation) single, I am smart as a whip , I walk real fast and run real slow. Sometimes I walk slow but I never, ever, ever run fast. I feel passionate about music. Sometimes so much so that it hurts too much to listen to. Strange, I know. Oh yes, and I am strange. But you probably wouldn't be able to tell at first meet. I spell like shit but I can sleep like a champ. My imagination is giant. I am a lover of vice. I am strangled by my fear of judgment. But it is a valid fear, as I am often judged. I love people. I love people to love me. I especially love those that do. There may be one person in the world that I hate - but I have not quite decided yet. I may be too lazy for true, artful hatred. I hate to lose, but I take it well as I also hate to be a sore loser. The rest of it, you will find out with time. Suffice it say for now: I am awesome. And my blog will be the shit.