Many Manifestos

Fuck SOPA

2012-01-18T11:05:00.000-05:00

http://www.fucksopa.com/

New American Fare

2012-01-11T20:00:00.001-05:00

The other day I went to a new restaurant called Apetitegeist. They had a chef that received a lot of hype when they first hired him, which was a few years ago. I hadn't had the chance to go until recently. Here's how the experience went.

Host: Welcome to Apetitegeist, where you are feisty for a feast! Let me sit you down at our finest table! Here is today's menu!

I look at the menu and see only two options, a plate of buttered noodles or a bowl of diarrhea.

Host: Oh I forgot to mention that we are not serving butter noodles today.

Me: Are you out of it?

Host: No, we just decided to take it off our menu.

Me: Why?

Host: Well we used to serve it , but the wait staff said they didn't like serving the dish, so we took it off our menu.

Me: So the chef decided to stop making it as well?

Host: Oh no, the chef wanted to make a very flavorful pasta, with all sorts of herbs and spices, but the wait staff didn't think the customers would want it. So they only served buttered noodles. But then the customers began to complain that they wanted something other than buttered noodles.

Me: So why not serve the chef's original dish?

Host: Well, again, the wait staff didn't like serving that dish.

Me: But does that matter? Shouldn't the customers have some input?

Host: No. You see, when you come here, you get to choose what waiter you want, and they choose your dish. So really you already have made your choice. I was just about to offer your choice of waiter.

Me: Can I choose a brand new waiter, maybe one from outside?

Host: No, but you will be able to help us choose a new chef in about a year.

Me: But the chef isn't the problem! The wait staff are the ones making these ridiculous menu decisions. By the way, whose decision was it to add a bowl of diarrhea to the menu?

Host: That was the wait staff's decision. They determined that the customers wouldn't want to pay very much for food, so we offered the cheapest possible option. Basically, the head waiter eats pasta, takes a laxative, and then shits into many bowls. You see how fantastically cheap that is? One plate of pasta produces several bowls of diarrhea. Can't you see the genius in that?

Me: Why is the head waiter eating the pasta? You said they didn't like it.

Host: Oh, I didn't say they didn't like it. I just said they wouldn't serve it. Besides, customers want a cheaper dish. Hence the diarrhea.

Me: But no one wants to pay to eat diarrhea.

Host: Well then they can blame the chef for not trying to make better dishes.

Me: But he has! Are you all insane? Do you guys ever plan on hiring a new wait staff?

Host: No, again the wait staff isn't the problem. The chef is. He is not making the dishes the wait staff wants to serve.

Me: Who gives a shit what they want to serve? Don't you realize the money isn't coming from the wait staff, it's from the customers? They should decide whether or not they like the chef's food, not the dish jockeys who basically do what a conveyor belt can do!

Host: You're not understanding. The chef is making the bad dishes.

Me: No, he's not! You're taking his dishes and making them bad!

Host: You must have been listening to the hosts at that other restaurant. Don't listen to them, they are brain washing you. Now, why don't you have a nice hot bowl of diarrhea?

Me: This is insanity incarnate. How is this restaurant so full?

Host: Well, we tell the public that we are the best restaurant in the city. No one questions it, or our methods. NOR SHOULD THEY.

I put down the menu and put on my coat.

Me: I'm sorry but I just can't stomach this. I'm going to the restaurant just north of here. I seriously hope you and the wait staff seek professional help and maybe start listening to your customer's wants and needs rather than just blindly making decisions for them. Good day to you, sir.

As I am leaving, I hear the host whisper to the head waiter.

Host: You see that? Another customer dissatisfied with the chef's menu.

A Phone Conversation between Two CERN Scientists

2011-09-27T16:28:00.000-04:00

Scientist1 (at CERN): Commencing neutrino beam in three...two...

Scientist 2 (at GranSasso): Uh, Sven, do you know how to do a fucking countdown? You obviouslyalready pressed the button too early, you ignoramus.

S1: What? No Ididn't! I haven't pressed the button yet! And don't call me an ignoramus,Antonio.

S2: You sure youhaven't pressed the button yet? Look at it to make sure you didn't drop some ofyour country's tasteless chocolate on it.

S1: Button’sclean, fascist. You sure your greasy, fat ass wasn't too busy eating lasagnawhen you were supposed to be archiving the results from the previous test? Bythe way I just pressed the button, Mussolini.

S2: I archived thoseresults last night, you Aryan douchenozzle. Oh, now the neutrinos have stopped.

S1: Ok let's try thisshit again, but first let's text each other pictures of our consoles just so weboth know they are clean.

S1: Agreed.

S2: Ok sent.

S1: Same.

S2:Received.

S1: Same. Ok let'stry this again. Commencing neutrino beam in three...two...

S2: Ok seriously,Sven, your head must have as many holes as your disgusting national cheese.You pressed the button too goddamned early again.

S1: ...one. Areyou fucking with me? I pressed the button right when I said one. Besides, noone can trust a whop's sense of timing.

S2: Suck it, commie.Is there anyone at that broke dick lab that can confirm your countdown?

S1: YES! Clause can.You know how punctual those German assholes are.

S2: Then put thatGestapo on the line.

S3: I confirm thatSven's countdown was accurate.

S2: Really?

S3: Affirmative.

S1: Now can yourgreasy fingers send me another pic of your console to confirm the results?

S2: Already sent.

S1: And received.Huh.

S2: Yeah I'm stumpedtoo.

S1: Do you think it'spossible that...

S2: I know whatyou're thinking. Let's not be hasty. Let's run the test one more time.

S1: Agreed. Okcommencing neutrino beam in 3...2...

S2: Neutrinosreceived!

S1: ...ONE. WHAT THEFUCK?!?!

S2: Is it possiblethese neutrinos are coming faster than the speed of light?

S1: Funny, your wifesaid the same thing about your dick last night.

S2: What?

S1: Nothing. Anyway,these neutrinos just might be traveling faster than the speed of light. Thatwould be amazing!

S2: Yeah, but weshould ask some of our buddies to check our results. But man, if this is true,you know what that means?

S1: That time travelis possible. And if time travel is possible we could...

S2: Prevent Americafrom being colonized?

S1: Yes. FuckAmericans.

S2: Yeah seriously,fuck those guys.

Game of Thrones Drinking Game for Drinking Gamers

2011-06-07T22:16:00.052-04:00

My boyfriend recently got me into the HBO show Game of Thrones. Whenever my boyfriend and I watch something together, I have a habit of yelling “There they are, I was wondering where they were!” whenever I see boobs on the screen. Sometimes, for brevity, I’ll just shout “TITS!”

I found myself doing this to exhaustion by the fourth episode of GOT. My boyfriend was drinking a beer, so I said “You should drink every time there are boobs on the screen.” This was towards the last few minutes of the episode, so he only took about 10 more sips of his beer.

Earlier last week, we were discussing watching Game of Thrones and the drinking game. I suggested that we add a few more rules to the game. After much bickering, we nailed down the rules.

Rules For Games of Thrones Drinking Game for Drinking Gamers

Drink once for every boob shot.
Drink once for every cock shot.
Drink once if you see blood.
Drink for the duration of any sex scene.
If a main character dies, finish your drink.
If you see 1-5 all in the same scene, shotgun a beer.

The above pic does not count as boob shot....unfortunately.

Sounds pretty simple, but it is effective. I couldn’t drink last night due to illness, so my man was on his own. By the end of the seventh episode, he was drunker than a Irish sailor on New Year’s Eve.

Dear You Giant C-Word

2011-04-16T17:28:00.000-04:00

So you back for more, eh? I should have suspected you were stupid enough to come back to get your ass kicked again. You’re like stormtroopers meets the foot. You come in droves, and you keep getting your balls handed to you. Your technique is sloppy and your aim is horrible

Like the stormtroopers, you live in this gargantuan mass that is ominous, but not without penetrable weaknesses. And where do I live? I live in the in the Millennium Falcon and have a timeshare in an X-Wing. With almost no effort I will destroy you, and without the use of a targeting computer

You may think I’m Alderaan. I am Luke Skywalker, Lando Calrissian, and Wedge Antilles combined. I am a Jedi ninja, I will use the Force up your ass and then take some nun-chucks to your nads.

At times you may have made me feel like Raphael on top of April O’Neil’s apartment. But then I remember all the awesome friends and family members I have, and then I remember that I’m actually Splinter, and I will make

you die…without honor.

Sincerely,

Heather a.k.a The Jedi Ninja

Breast Cancer Slacktivism

2011-03-14T18:33:00.001-04:00

Another instance of Facebook slacktivism has been circulating. This one involves another extremely ambiguous meme that has the covert purpose of raising awareness of breast cancer. It involves posting a fruit name in your status that is a code for your relationship status (e.g., Blueberry=single). This is somehow supposed to raise awareness of breast cancer. In my experience, the best way to make people aware of breast cancer is to...make people aware of breast cancer. Giving people codes to decipher means the message is extremely unclear. Also, this meme does not encourage people to donate to any charities. This event is supposed to take place on Sunday.

I ask you, my Internet friends, to not engage in this. It does not help the cause in any way. Rather, on Sunday, if you really do care about breast cancer awareness and research, post this link on your social networking sites:

Want to ACTUALLY raise breast cancer awareness? Please donate:

https://support.bcrfcure.org/civicrm/contribute/transact?reset=1&id=14

Sorry to be so forward, but as many of you know, this issue is sacred to me.

Springtime! Blossoming Bosoms Abound!

2011-03-07T21:40:00.000-05:00

My final surgery was undertaken on Wednesday. In addition to replacing the expander in my right breast with a permanent silicon implant, the surgeon also had the task of giving me the gift of cleavage. I never had much had much of a cleft chest with my original set, and the chest expander robbed me of what little I had. Indeed, my breasts looked as if they were parted by Moses. They didn’t look horrible or anything, they just didn’t look like they got along very well, as if they were opposing magnetic forces.

My new toys are still in their original packaging, but I can already feel that they are becoming very close friends. This leads me to the ultimate question: what are some practical uses for new cleavage? I’ve decided to compile this list of 30 uses so that everyone who is endowed with mountainous peaks can put their plunging valleys to good use.

Uses for Cleavage

Cup holder
Key rack
Hidden storage of valuables (money clip, cell phone)
Display case for action figures
Miniature flag holder on the fourth of July
Derringer holster, and along those lines...
Clip holder
Knife holster
Pen cup
MP3 player holder
Sunglasses case
Pez Dispenser
Hiding place for a Horcrux
Ad space
Snak Pak storage
Lipstick applicator
Tissue Box
Martini shaker holder (shaken by dancing to Juvenile)
Beer-Bong Tube stabilizer (while doing a handstand)
Hiding spot for Easter eggs
Mistletoe holder
Jump drive protector
Flower vase
Push Pop purveyor
Beer can crusher
Popsicle holder
Cookie jar
Holder for hands-free tooth brushing
Audio bug for espionage (ala True Lies)
Man attractor

45 Priceless Lifehacks

2011-01-26T14:23:00.003-05:00

Here is some random bits of advice I’ve collected over the years. Some are philosophical, some are practical, all of them are golden.

Every once in awhile, ignore your instincts, especially if there is a high chance of fun and a low chance of harm.

Once a month, tell someone you love that you love them.

F6 highlights your address bar. Same with ctrl+L.

Study the Constitution. Memorize all the amendments.

For the girls- don't take your purse to the bathroom, everyone knows your on your period and you aren't fooling anyone. If you really want to be sneaky, get those compact tampons and stuff them in your cleavage. If not, woman up, stand proud, wave that tampon in the air and shout “I’m a fertile female and indubitably proud of it!”

Brush your teeth in the shower. It will save time and it will get your teeth cleaner. *EDIT* Brush your teeth while you are rinsing your hair off so as not to waste any water. Click here for more ideas on water conservation.

If your significant other asks you what you are thinking, always say “I’m thinking about how much I love you.” This will improve your relationship immensely. Don’t do this if you want to break up with the person.

When you think others are judging you, it’s only you that’s judging you.

Every once in awhile, just stop giving a shit.

Fear is meant to stop you from dying. Don’t let it stop you from living.

Keep a dream journal. It will help improve your memory.

If you know you have to remember what a person is saying, and you don’t have a way of recording them, ask them to say it three times clearly. Watch their lips move when they say it.

Read a book a month.

Keep your student ID with you forever. Use it everywhere to get discounts.

Instead of buying storage containers, stop throwing out glass products. A jar for pasta sauce is a great way for transporting your lunch.

Take care of your feet. Always wear shoes that are at least semi-comfortable and good socks.

Don’t watch reality TV, unless it’s a documentary. Watch one documentary a month.

Do or make something you are proud of everyday.

Learn to drive stick.

Learn the following bits of car maintenance:

Oil Change
Flat Tire Change
Battery Jump

Always carry a pen.

Learn to play an instrument.

If you are in trouble, don’t yell for help, yell “fire”.

“Walk it off” will not work for most types of physical pain, but it may help with emotional pain.

Once a season, take yourself out on a date. Give yourself a spa day, treat yourself to a nice meal. Write a love letter to yourself.

F2 renames files.

Use toothpaste on bug bites and zits.

If you are making pasta and the water starts to boil over, add a splash of olive oil.

Don’t play charades against deaf people.

Don’t care about people’s beliefs. Care about their actions.

Financial Aid doesn’t charge interest if you pay it off within sixth months after graduation. If you don’t need the money, take out a Financial Aid loan and put it in a 4-year CD. Keep the interest. It’s free money! (I’m not totally sure if this is legal.)

Always return a car with a full tank of gas.

In general, don’t unpack your suitcase if you don’t have to. You are more likely to lose stuff if you do unpack.

Stand on the right, walk on the left.

Be nice to the new kid.

Accept the fact that you don’t know anything. Read Socrates.

Learn basic home repair.

Don’t overreact, don’t underreact. Just react.

Success is 49% talent and 51% persistence. Never give up.

Moisturize.

No one ever got better by winning. Be a gracious loser.

To open stubborn jars, tap the side of the lid on the counter first, then open.

Clicking links with the Middle-Mouse (scroll wheel) will open them in a new tab.

The Golden Rule applies to romantic relationships as well.

Never go against a Sicilian when death is on the line.

New Blog Started

2010-12-27T13:21:00.001-05:00

Because I don't have nearly enough blogs (three and counting) I've decided to create a new one just for my webcomic. It's the most awesome comic you will every read in your lifetime. Enjoy!

http://flibbertyjibbitjamboree.blogspot.com/

A Sneak Peak Into What I Do With my Spare Time

2010-12-13T21:00:00.004-05:00

I've been working on a lot of non-blog related writing projects lately. I will post them when the time is right. In the meantime, I would like to share something personal with you.

Sometimes, when I'm bored or have writer's block, I like to come up with headlines for The Onion. This is a leftover habit from when I used to run a alternative/humor paper. I hope you enjoy this sample of the headlines I've come up with over the years. I should warn you, some of these are based on true stories. I'd like to see if you can guess which ones.

Headline Ideas for The Onion

1) Closeted hardcore sports fan still trying to convince gay friends of his homosexuality

2) Crazy Girl insisting "you never listen" or some shit

3) Nation's Toddlers Express Dissatisfaction with status quo by screaming, rolling on floor

4) New concealer reduces women's age appearance to fetal stages

5) Local Man was like totally wasted off his ass last night, dude

6) Why I hate Couples, by a desparately single female (not humor)

7) Local Dumb and Ugly girl's facebook shows too much face and not enough book- Bimbo Brownbagger

8) Online Doppleganger generator yields displeasing results

9) Every sentence puntuated with glance at iphone

10) Malapropism misdefiled in dictionary

11) White man views only black friends as his own personal, real life magic negro

12) Procrastination Key in Immortality

13) Child of McMansion Suburbs Realizes There Are Many, Many Places Like Home

14) Absence Makes the Heart Grow....Meh

15) Why Marriage is a Social By Product by Boyfriend

16) Stop stalling and make a commitment by Girlfriend

17) First Came Love, Marriage Left Unsatisfied Yet Again

18) John Boehner Threatens to Karate Chop the Limbs off Congress

19) Local Man Drinks too much, Takes advantage of self- "I woke up with a tube sock around my junk. I was so humiliated."

20) Guy You're Dating 100 percent full of shit, according to friends

21) Hippie's lack of carbon footprint offset by abundance of dickishness

22) Boyfriend convinces girlfriend of porn collection's rising resale value

23) Recently Single Man Immediatly Gets Facebook, Twitter, Myspace, Friendster, and LinkedIn Accounts

Stupidity is a Lifestyle Choice

2010-11-14T22:42:00.000-05:00

Intellectual elitism. This is the new adage for the American people. It is our political zeitgeist. Because of this, Americans can now add “stupid” to this list of adjectives the world outside their borders assigns them, right between “fat” and “loud.” It seems the American public has lost erudite ways.

Since when is it ok to be stupid by choice? I hate to pull the cliche phrase “When I was growing up...” but when I was growing up, I was taught that the brain is the strongest muscle. I was also taught something else: intellectual elitism is an oxymoron.

In my science class, we would learn that every animal has evolved different survival traits. Cheetahs have speed. Gorillas have strength. Rats have strength in numbers. I remember asking my teacher exactly what survival traits humans have. She didn’t answer with words, she just pointed to her head, and we all understood.

Human beings have (supposed) superior intelligence to all other beings. Our intelligence has made us the dominant species on this planet. Intelligence has advanced civilization, saved lives, fostered technology and the arts, and has even fostered itself. While advanced intelligence has never achieved celebrity status, it has always been revered. Until recently.

Our recent political discourse seems to demonize anything resembling cerebral snobbery. This confuses me, because don’t we want smart people in politics? These are people who are in control of civilization, so therefore don’t we want people who have the capacity to understand how civilization works? The problem is many Americans are told to vote using anything but their heads. Fiscal conservatives are told to vote with their wallets. Women are told to vote with their uteruses. Patriots are told to vote with their hearts.

When I was a young girl, I asked my grandmother why she didn’t vote for Ross Perot (I was told there was no such thing as a stupid question). She told me that “He’s fit to run a company, but not fit to run a country.” This statement didn’t hit me directly. Instead it led me to form my own political philosophy. As I became older, it became more refined.

Most people vote for someone who shares the same core values as them. This is the same mentality we assume when we are looking for a life partner. This concept is inately flawed, because a life partner relationship involves only two people. A political relationship involves a whole society. Unfortunately, the life partner relationship is not a microcosm of the prudish American society.

Rather, when we vote for a person, we need to pretend that we are voting for a boss at work. If you were able to vote for your boss, would you rather prefer someone with little experience in your field who happens to share a similar lifestyle to yours, or a person who has experience, intelligence, and fortitude? We want someone that can not only keep us employed, but who can also keep the rest of the company afloat. This is pretty much where the metaphor ends since I don’t want to get into capitalist/healthcare debate.

Perhaps the blame for this brainy bafflement could be at least partly fall on intellectuals. As opposed to physical acuity, mental acuity seems to be squandered. While physical athletes purposefully place themselves on pedestals of inspiration that beckon their followers to ascend to their heights, intellectuals shut themselves out of mainstream society. What we don’t realize is that we have the power to control society, because it is built off of our ideas. We are not part of the machine, but we built the machine.

As I said before, intellectual elitism is an oxymoron. Intellect is what makes us human. Since we are all human, it can’t be solely the property of the elite. We all own intellect, but we have choice on whether or not we use it. The average human has the capacity for great ideas, much like the average human has the capacity to run long distances. Every human has potential, and it is an insult to ourselves to not explore the wonders within our own minds. If we don’t find our mental skills, it is because we are self-limiting and lazy.

Some say that they don’t have the capacity to solve certain mental problems. Whenever I hear someone say “I’m bad at math” or “I can’t learn a language,” I tell them to do the following:

1) Forget you are bad at X.
2) Accept that every problem with X has a solution.
3) Accept that you have the capacity to find that solution.

If they don’t follow these rules, they are just being lazy. Our society has always denigrated physical laziness. We need to start denigrating mental laziness as well.

Supreme Extremes

2010-10-01T23:22:00.004-04:00

I was a child of polarity. I was either loquacious or mute. I would climb a tree too high just for the thrill of it, or I would cower at the top of a flight of stairs. I would fearlessly ride the 70 mile-a-second water slide at the water park, but I would wallow in anxiety at the sight of the ocean. I would either over perform in school, or spend most of my after school hours in parent-teacher meetings.

I had an older cousin who, being an only child, had a surplus of sibling torture that needed to be expended. Since I was the next of kin in the family tree, the fruit of her ire fell my way. For example, I should be blind from the amount of dirtballs and household chemicals she flung in my face. I think she might be a huge part of the reason for my hot-or-cold personality.

The inception of this serious personality flaw occurred one fateful evening in the summer of my eighth year on this planet. We were in Ocean City, Maryland at Trimper’s Boardwalk Rides. I was having the time of my life. I had just finished a funnel cake after thoroughly kicking a fair load of ass at skeeball.

We were wandering around, letting our sugary, fried foods digest, when my cousin made an ominous suggestion. “Hey, you have never ridden...The Zipper. Why don’t we try it out?” A wide, toothy grin spread across her face like a virus at a frat party. I interpreted this smile as Heather is too much of a wussy to handle this ride. “Why you’re right, cuz, I haven’t ridden it. But whaddya say we give it a whirl?”

I was on top of the world. I had ridden all the scariest rides, from the face-flattening Avalanche to the vomit-inducing Crazy Dance. There was no way I would be ousted by a ride so innocuously named as “The Zipper.” I didn’t care if my cousin had ridden this ride before and was trying to trick me, I knew I could handle this task.

As we walked to get our tickets, I noticed that my cousin’s devilish smile had not faded. I thought it was stubbornness, but in my later years I now realized that the smile meant this dip has no idea what she’s in for.

There was no line for this ride, so I had no chance to see the ride in action. We handed our tickets to the mangy carnie and then waited as our seats came into position. By seats, I mean medieval body-shaped cages just big enough for two people. I looked at my cousin, who was still donning a fiendish grin. My pride prevailed and I hopped into the iron maiden. And then it began...

The ride moved four feet and my stomach turned into a centrifuge. I felt like I was being exorcised. I screamed like a banshee through a bullhorn. Tears spewed from my eyelids like flood waters through broken levies. Our cage seemed caught in a perpetual rocking motion. I then realized that we weren’t really moving forward.

The Zipper is a series of free-rotating cages that are hooked up to a chainsaw-like rig. So not only is the cage rotating, said cage is on a rig that is also rotating, and it can alternate directions. If you are having trouble picturing the motion, imagine you are on an extremely fast merry-go-round. Now imagine that that merry-go-round is on a bigger and faster merry-go-round that is moving in the opposite direction. Now imagine that both merry-go-rounds are moving in three-dimensions. It something close to that feeling. With all these forces at play, even the most minor movement is gut-wrenching. The reason why we had only moved four feet was because the carnie was loading the only other two dumbasses who were “brave” enough to ride this death machine. They were boarded, and the express train to hell left the station.

I don’t remember much from this point. It was as if God were playing a game of trick pool, and he was using Earth as his cue ball. Everything was spinning out of control. The only way I would be able to recreate this feeling in my adult life would be by spending too much time with my frenemy, Jose Cuervo. My insides felt like they were being processed through a meat-grinder. My visual memory is limited to blurry shapes and darkness. I felt a warm liquid near my ears. I thought maybe my ears were bleeding from my own screams.

Later I would learn it was pools of saliva emanating from my cousin’s mouth as laughter erupted from her like lava from Mt. Pele.

After what seemed like eons, the hellish journey was finally over. As our cage inched closer to the unloading zone, I tried to compose myself. I had lost some hand-eye coordination due to extreme vertigo. I’m also sure that my excessive crying had led to dehydration.

I heard the click of the cage handle, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The door began to open, and I believe I saw providence on the other side. Then around the door emerged the troll-like face of the carnie operator. He was wearing the same smirk that my cousin was wearing. He spoke forth the words that were powerful enough to open a Pandora’s box worth of emotions from me:

“You kids wanna another ride?”

I was frozen with fear, and I felt like my soul was melting. It was like his mouth was the Arch of the Covenant.

My cousin nodded emphatically, and then the door clanked shut. It blasted in my ears, like a gas truck crashing into a fireworks factory. Also, in the cab of this gas truck were my closest friends and family, and the fireworks factory was located in Santa’s palace.

The next few minutes are a total blank. For all I know I could have reached total spiritual enlightenment. The next thing I remember was coming to on a sidewalk bench, my shirt soaked with tears and sweat, and my mother hugging me and stroking my hair. When people passing by asked what happen, my cousin explained, still donning that demonic grin, “she got caught in The Zipper.”

Flibberty Jibbit Jamboree: SUPERSIZED EDITION

2010-08-25T18:02:00.001-04:00

This FJJ was inspired by true events. Some instances have been slightly exaggerated for comedic effect. Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. (Click for big)

Rejection Collection

2010-07-29T17:51:00.003-04:00

I was rejected by McSweeney's, again. But I don't let this get me down. I've learned that in order to be successful, you have to learn to deal with failure. Persistence is key. Here are some statistics that you may find intriguing:

The Diary of Anne Frank was rejected by 15 publishers.
Lord of the Flies was rejected by 20 publishers.
Stephen Kings Carrie was rejected by 30 publishers.
Jack London's first story received 600 rejection slips.
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone was rejected by dozens of publishers. The only reason it was picked up by Bloomsbury is because the CEO's granddaughter begged him to do so.

So in the interest of good humor, I've decided to post my rejected submissions to McSweeney's "Lists" section. And here the are:

Thrilling Documentary Titles that Cleverly Disguise Their Boring Subject Matter

Dye Hard with a Vengeance: How to Dye Your Fabrics without Getting Blown to Smithereens
The WWF: The Wonderful World of Fungi!
Let's Go to the Post Office!
Lethal Tampon 3: Avoiding Endometriosis
Pill Bill, Volume 2- Healthcare Reform, or Here come the Bribes
Crouching Carpetbagger, Riding Wagon: The Midwest Migration
How Astrology can KILL YOU!! But probably won't….
Putting the RAP in ScRAPbooking
A Time to Quilt
The Hot, Steamy, Sensuous, Exciting, and Thrilling Sport of Golf

Lies "Insert Name Here" Told You

A degree in liberal arts will help provide for your future. - Guidance Counselor
It is wise to put money in your 401k. - Accountant
"Synecdoche, New York" is a great movie. - Roger Ebert
Democracy is a political government carried out either directly by the people (direct democracy) or by means of elected representatives of the people (Representative democracy). - Wikipedia
That halter top looks great on you. - Sales Clerk at Dress Barn
I will remember you. - Sarah McLachlan
You will never amount to anything. Just kidding! You see kids, that is what we call "reverse psychology". - Psych Professor
Free Masons DON'T run the country. - Shifty-Eyed Government Agent
You could win money instantly! - Pepsi, Coke, Snapple
I love you. - Elmo, Ex, Mother

How to Deal with Humans

2010-07-21T11:40:00.002-04:00

I traveled to Chicago this weekend to visit my mother. She lives there part-time because her company’s headquarters is there. This time around she invited me and my stepsister to come with her.

Coincidentally, they were shooting a scene for Transformers III just blocks from the apartment. It was an action scene, so it took up the entire Michigan Avenue bridge as well as several blocks surrounding it. As you can imagined, crowds swarmed in many areas, not only to see the action, but also because of the detours in several areas surrounding the scene, being that it was blocking one of the most major arteries in the city. There were several crowd control agents at many of the major intersections. These people had probably the worst job imaginable. They were yelling at people not to stop in the roadways, not to wait in stairwells, basically doing everything to keep traffic flowing. Because people, especially tourists, are stupid, a lot of them were getting yelled at. These crowd control agents had the worst job because their job is vital to keeping people safe but they are hated for it.

I was walking down a stairwell to get to the Chicago Riverwalk, and one the people in front of me stopped to answer a text. The crowd control agent yelled at him to keep walking. As he started walking again, he said “Jeez, what a bitch. Why did she have to yell at me?” As we reached the end of the stairwell, I said “Look behind you, and then look up.” He looked behind him and then looked up. “When you stopped, we all stopped. That’s why she yelled at you.” I pointed out how some of the people caught at the top of the stairwell were stopped in the street, and how that could cause accidents. It’s amazing how defensive people can get when the perceived to be threaten by authority.

A similar incident happened later after my family and I had just finished an architectural river boat cruise. The whole cruise of about 200 people had to exit off of this one platform. One of the geriatrics stopped to talk to one of the crewman, effectively blocking THE REST OF THE PASSENGERS from exiting. The crew member did nothing to move this person out of the way, they just stood there and answered her inane questions. After about ten seconds, I asked the woman kindly but forcefully to move out of the way so that the rest of us could exit. She looked at me as if I had asked her how much she would charge for a hand job. Her icy demeanor didn’t bother me though, because it was effectively melted by the gratitude of the HUNDREDS of people behind me.

We are social creatures, yet we do not understand our own social hierarchies. We don’t know how crowds work, we either defy authority completely or follow it blindly, and we seem to favor emotion over logic. All of these situations are dangerous for both personal and societal well-being, especially the part on authority. We will gladly defy our doctors, teachers, career mentors and other figures of personal authority, but then we will blindly follow figures of societal authority, as seen with the Nazi regime. I think the crux of this problem is that people do not bother to make themselves aware of themselves, their environment, and their situations. Some people just sleepwalk through their lives. I’m guilty of this every now and then. Sometimes I’ll be deep in thought, or just too tired to concentrate. However, when someone wakes me from this mental slumber, I am grateful. Unfortunately, most others react with defensiveness or disgust.

This problem can be solved if people accept the following truths/life lessons:

1) There is a big world around you, and there are billions of other people in it. This can be explained by this Venn diagram.

2) You are not the smartest person in the world. In fact, you are probably not even in the 80th percentile. However, the more you come to grips with this fact, the smarter you will become. A model or method might seem illogical to you, but you should accept the idea that maybe it works for reasons you can’t understand. Because I love making graphs, here is one that represents IQ distribution:

3) Question everything, but question it without bias.
4) No one is out to get you, or purposefully trying to piss you off. In a crowd of strangers, no one cares about you enough to try to get under your skin. Sure, some things people do may seem illogical, but no one is doing just to piss you off.
5) You will find that you will be a lot happier if you live by The Golden Rule. I know this seems cliché, but there’s a reason why some things are cliché.
6) When you are caught in a mass of people that needs to be managed, do what you can to help. For instance, on airplanes. Whenever I get the aisle seat, I always unload my rowmates luggage from the overhead compartment while we are waiting to exit. This saves time and minimizes blocking the line to exit. Let me see if I can illustrate this one:

I believe that if one person starts following these rules, then their effect will spread. One will find that they are happier, smarter, and more connected with the world. As a good friend of mine once said “We are all connected by a web. If one of us pulls just a little, we all move.”

Because it had to be done...

2010-06-25T13:52:00.000-04:00

I have posted a shirt for sale based on yesterday's Flibberty Jibbit Jamboree. Please see the sidebar under the heading "SHIT."

Yes, I am a sellout. Worship me, capitalist scum!

Third Installment of Flibberty Jibbit Jamboree

2010-06-24T09:23:00.003-04:00

(Click for big)

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

2010-06-20T20:36:00.001-04:00

Some of you may have noticed a few new things around here. I decided, after four long years, to redesign my blog. By redesign, I mean simplify. I decided to go with one of Blogger's templates so that it would be easier to enable many of Blogger's gadgets. You will now notice a few new features, and some old broken features that are now fixed. I will be adding some small features in the future.

Here's something you may not have noticed: I started a new blog. It's called Econduct, and it's a blog about going green for those inclined to do so. I will also be starting a similar, but different, green blog in the future.

Stay tuned for all the marvelous things to come....

Some Visitors

2010-06-14T21:35:00.004-04:00

This morning I was visited by two old friends who I hadn't seen in quite some time. I blinked when I first saw them; I thought I was hallucinating. Surely this could not be the two friends be standing before me! What a joyous occasion!

I've been friends with these two since before I could remember. I used to call them Leftie and Rightie, because they always came in a pair. They had been with me through many trials and tribulations. They have always been quick to make myself and others laugh. They are quite big and hairy, you see, and they use their physical appearance to their comical advantage. They love to dance as they are very active beings, despite their size.

It was many months ago when I saw them last. This may not seem like a very long time, but this seemed like eons to me. The three of us were inseparable for most of our lives. Their absence was troublesome at best. It was a heavy sadness. I felt like the three of us had been carrying a fifty pound weight, and when they left I was forced to carry the burden myself. Over time I got used to their absence, except in one specific avenue: photographs.

Before they left, it seemed like we were in every photograph together. Then after they left, I looked very lonely in every photograph, even when I was surrounded by others. Even when I was smiling I looked sad. It was because they weren’t there.

Then, out of thin air, they appeared just this morning! I woke up and there they were! I almost didn’t recognize them at first being that they had lost a lot of weight. Fortunately, they hadn’t changed much more than that. Also, they promised me that they would return to their original size so that they would make me laugh once more.

As soon as we kissed our hellos, I took a picture of us back together again. Here it is.

Second Installment of Flibberty Jibbit Jamboree

2010-05-03T19:57:00.005-04:00

(Click for big)

A Funny Thing Happened Today

2010-04-23T14:57:00.004-04:00

I have been craving massive amounts of fruit lately. Many of my friends have been visiting me, and when they ask what they can bring, I say something like "Junk food, pears and strawberries. In fact, nix the junk food. Just bring the pears and strawberries."

Yesterday I was watching a Blue Planet marathon on the Discovery Channel, and this advertisement for Edible Arrangements kept popping up. Every commercial break, my couch would become drenched with the drool that was coming from my mouth. I almost went and ordered one for myself.

Then, as if by the power of magical thinking (or perhaps telepathy?), one arrives at my doorstep this morning.

Doesn't it look scrumptious?

This delectable delight was sent to me by my relatives Tamar and Michael, and I am tremendously thankful for it. Also, it is but one of the many gifts that have been sent to me over the last few weeks. I received everything from crossword puzzles, hilarious books, and dozens of flowers to waterfalls of Starbursts, boxes of mac n cheese, and a giant stuffed dragon. I thank you all for these gifts, and I look forward to paying it through.

Convalescing, Or The Beginning of the End

2010-04-13T22:19:00.008-04:00

So I'm a week out of surgery and I'm on the mend. I had a double mastectomy, which included a simple mastectomy on the left and a modified radical on the right. Modified radical means they also cut out some lymph nodes from the armpit area. Because of this, I have tremendous pain in my right arm. But for those of you who remember how I was diagnosed, you will know that this is nothing new for me.

I got the pathology report back yesterday, and I'm pleased to report good news. The left breast was entirely cancer free. They extracted only nine lymph nodes from the right side, only two of which had any remaining signs of cancer. The dead tumors that they found were around 1 mm (about the width of a hair). Overall, it's an excellent report, which means an excellent prognosis.

My surgery was last Tuesday. I barely slept the night before. I got out of bed at 4 A.M., showered, and woke up my friend who was coming to the hospital with me. Before I left, I put on lipstick (in honor of this book, which I honestly have yet to read):

Then I took a sexy shot:

I took some token power objects with me to the hospital. One was a sock monkey I named Emily. Emily was a gift from my officemates:

I promised my friend that I would sing a song right after I got out of surgery. I sang it several times in the recovery room, and then belted it out on the way to my room so that my family would be able to find me. My friend got some of it on video.

I am now resting comfortably at my parents home for the next couple of weeks. I still have the post-operative drains in me. They are quite a nuisance. I am on Percocet at 10 mg. Because of this, I have spent most of my time here:

Sticky Comics

2010-04-12T14:56:00.002-04:00

My awesome friend at Sticky Comics made an awesome comic about my (not-so awesome, but thankfully one) boobs.

http://www.stickycomics.com/boobs-in-heaven/

My First try at a Webcomic

2010-03-30T16:52:00.004-04:00

(Click for big)

A Small List of Big Things

2010-03-10T22:00:00.004-05:00

Here is a small list of things that happened to me in the past few days:

1) Tonight, I played the piano.
2) While driving this morning, I stretched out my arm to turn the radio down.
3) Yesterday evening, I bought shampoo.
4) Yesterday morning, I drank a cup of herbal tea.
5) On Monday, I took a shower.
6) On Sunday, I drank a glass of wine with friends.
7) On Saturday, I did the full warrior pose in my yoga class.
8) On Friday, I rode a bike for 30 seconds.
9) On Thursday, I drank Oban.
10) On Wednesday, I got an email from my doctor.
11) On Tuesday, I got a pet scan.

Here is why this little list is so big to me:

1) I have not been able to play in the past few weeks because of swelling in my right hand. Now I can.
2) Up until then, I was not able to stretch my arm without immense pain.
3) My hair is starting to grow back.
4) Herbal tea can interact with chemo. Now that I'm done with chemo, I can enjoy a nice warm cup.
5) Because of nausea and weakness, I could really only take baths for the past few months. Now I can stand in the shower and not worry about falling over.
6) Now that chemo is over, I can drink again. I hadn't had a drop since my birthday (October 3).
7) The full warrior pose requires stretching of the arms. See number 2.
8) I used to bike everyday, up until my diagnosis.
9) I was celebrating.
10) It was good news.
11) I'm cancer free.

Sometimes you just gotta sit, breathe, and enjoy the little (and big) things in life.

To Hell with Cancer

2010-02-23T18:28:00.003-05:00

The first leg of this journey is complete. On February 4th I completed my last round of chemo. The side effects where a bit harsh this time around, but I was reassured by the fact that THIS WAS THE LAST TIME I WILL EXPERIENCE THEM. As I was laying on my aunt's couch rollercoastering through bouts of nausea, I kept thinking "Bring it on bitch. You will be over soon."

It's about three weeks later and I'm feeling good. My white blood cell counts are up, and I'm feeling strong. I can't wait to start doing all the things I used to do, like biking, hiking, camping. I made a promise to myself that once this is all over, I will never skip the oppotunity for adventure. Unfortunately, those things will have to wait a bit longer as I still have my surgery to look forward to.

Truth be told, chemo is not that horribly bad. Don't get me wrong, it's by no means fun, but it's not like how it is in the movies. It used to be like that before the medicines and dosages became more targeted. As far as the side effects go, it's kind of like being pregnant (so I'm told). You wake up feeling nauseous, swollen, tired, but after awhile it goes away. The big differences are chemo makes you lose your hair and pregnancy gives you a baby.

The hairloss was not devastating for me. I loved my hair, but I always wanted an excuse to shave it. This afforded me that opportunity. Once it comes back, I may keep it short for awhile.

I've taken a good look at my life these past five months, and one thing has bothered me. I realized that most of my time, energy, and conversation has been devoted to this disease. I seem to have put myself into a category. I want to avoid the label "Cancer Survivor" as much as possible. This is not only because I hate labels, but also because it doesn't tell everything about me. I have survived other trials, arguably worse than this one. So if I had to label myself as something, it would be simply "A Survivor."

Speaking of surviving, there are ways you can help others survive this disease. An old family friend is doing the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, and she is doing it in my honor. If you care to donate, please click here: http://info.avonfoundation.org/site/TR/Walk/WashingtonDC?px=1003944&pg=personal&fr_id=1910

The Drafter of Laughter

2010-02-13T18:23:00.012-05:00

Note: I wrote the beginning of this entry awhile ago. It took me that long to complete this.

I always have ideas rolling around in my head for topics to write about. One has been swimming around in my head for awhile, but it wasn’t until earlier today that I was thoroughly motivated to write this idea.

I was in a deep funk this morning, partially from lack of sleep, partially from emotional turbulence. I met up with a friend to go to a yoga class, and during the last 10 minutes of the class we did the corpse pose. This means we lay on the floor and rummage in our own thoughts. As you can imagine, my thoughts went to some pretty dark places. Normally I’m very in control of my thoughts and emotions, but even the strongest person has a breaking point, and I feel I’ve been walking on the edge of mine. Normally when I do a meditative pose, I take my mind to some beautiful landscapes. One time, I had something akin to an out-of-body experience. My mind traveled to the top of Mount Etna where I slid down the summit on the back of an emperor penguin while a cloud enveloped us. We stopped at stand selling flavored honey, and we fed each other strawberry flavored while the cloud lifted us away. LSD was not involved.

This time around my thoughts turned to grey shapeless images of sadness and solitude. I opened my eyes and stared at the ashy-black ceiling of the studio's and followed the lightly swinging white paper lanterns, and I tried to take myself into outer space. But my thoughts were heavy and kept me down to earth, and I felt myself sink into the floor. Some force was pulling me down into the ground, and I felt like I was being buried in sorrow.

My life is very scary and chaotic right now. Much of my future is uncertain, and that which is certain is not very pleasant. I know the next couple of months will bring a great deal of physical and emotional pain. While I know the physical pain will quell and desist with time, there is really no telling when the emotional pain will die. I will be very disfigured for a good long while, and this will take its toll on the rest of my life. I know I’m a strong person, but I’m not made of stone. This will affect my possibilities of engaging in any sort of intimacy, engaging in any sort of long-term relationship, having children, etcetera. I’ve had problems even just getting dates in the past three years, so it was like I was already in a hole, and then the ground has sunken even further. All of this was weighing on me in the last ten minutes of class.

After the class, my friend and I offered each other our reviews, being that this was our first time at this particular studio. We both agreed that we liked the class overall, but then I told him about my gloomy mental turn at the end. I was still a little lost in my thoughts, so only bits and pieces of what he was saying was filtering through. “I go to good places blah blah blah drift off yadda yadda yadda my thoughts are awesome yakety yakety yak…” But then he said something that stuck. “When my mind starts to turn that way I just stop.”

Just. Stop. I’ve repeated this mantra to myself many times, but not in recent past. Sometimes you see yourself on the edge of a plank, and you forget that the only thing that brought you there was your own two feet. Just. Stop.
Then I thought of something a family friend said to me: “Find things to make you laugh as often as possible.”

So here it finally is, a list of things/images/people/other nouns that make me smile or laugh at any time:

1) This scene from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYtjpIwamos&feature=related

2) This picture of me and my friend. He threw up not too long after this photo was taken.

3) This scene from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ekkldCWkibw&feature=related

4) This issue of The Onion: http://www.theonion.com/2056-06-22/

5) This one requires some backstory, and it may leave a bad taste in some mouths. I frequently lurk this online forum called Something Awful. The users on this forum talk about everything, literally. One day, a user had posted that his dad just committed suicide and that he was feeling lost and helpless. This was the FIRST RESPONSE to the post: "I know I'll probably be attacked for this (video games are for losers, etc. ), but this is exactly how I felt when Aerith [a character from Final Fantasy] died. I honestly didn't know what to do, I was pretty much in a daze.. I would go into battle without any materia equipped, I'd forget to heal my characters after battles, completely neglected my chocobos. I would just go to the Golden Saucer and dick around for hours at a time playing minigames... I just didn't see any point to advancing the story, how could there be a story without her? Well, it took some time, but I got over it (and took my revenge on Sephy [KoTR + Mimic ftw]), and the point is, I'm sure you will too. If there's anything I'd take from this, it's that life goes on even after losing a loved one, it's just up to you how long it takes. Goondolences."

6) I WILL EAT YOUR SOUL.

7) Mustaches.

8) Helen Keller went to town, Riding on a pony, Stuck a feather in her cap and called it DERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRERRERRRANNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH

9) David Sedaris’ essay “Next of Kin.” This is tied to the next item on this list.

10) The memory of watching my best friend reading “Next of Kin” on the beach and laughing so hard she frightened some people.

11) Christopher Moore’s book Lamb.

Feel free to post some of your happy thoughts.

Someone Broke Into My Apartment Last Night

2010-01-07T09:01:00.021-05:00

I have been up half the night gripping my floor and crying so hard I can barely breathe. I got home around 1 AM last night only to discover that someone, or perhaps several people, broke into my apartment yesterday. I am guessing they disguised themselves as delivery people and fooled my landlord into letting them into my apartment. I am so overcome with emotion right now. I can't believe something like this could happen to me.

Here are some pictures of the aftermath.

The bandit(s) had plastered every single flat surface of my apartment with post-its. Here are some more detailed photos:

There was one of these for every member of my family.

I think Jemaine Clement is the most beautiful man alive.

Neither I nor google know what "snarflehazen" means. I'm gonna guess it's hungarian for the f word.

Even my cat was hit by this post-band-it.

They even left some graffiti on my keyboard and bookshelf.

The notes where everywhere. I have a feeling I will find more over the next couple of months. I have strong suspicions about the identity of the main culprit, and I have a feeling that she (err uh OR he) had some accomplices.

I was crying out of love. I was gripping the floor because my heart was filling with happiness as a balloon fills with helium. I was afraid that if I let go, I would float away. I have the best family and friends in the world. No doubt about it.

P.S.- In case you weren't aware, my intials are HBO.

The True Story I Made Up About Clementines

2009-12-12T19:43:00.002-05:00

Once up a time there was very sweet little girl named Clementine. She lived in an orphanage in a very poor part of town. However, as empty as the pockets of the nurses and caretakers were, their hearts were as full. Everyone in the orphanage got along like a tight-knit family.

As loving as all the children and caretakers were, Clementine was the kindest of them all. She helped the cooks in the kitchen, she helped plant vegetables in the garden in the early spring, and she helped teach the younger children to read. Of all the jobs she took on, the one she loved the most was telling stories to the sick children in the medical ward. She was cheery all year round, but she was the most cheery during the holiday season, if only for one reason. Every year for Christmas, she received one sweet orange in her stocking. She loved sweet oranges more than any other food. She loved them more than candy. She would make each slice last as long as she could. Then she would save the seeds in a scrapbook she had made. The pages of the scrapbook were labeled by year, and she had saved each seed from every year for as long as she could remember.

One year there was a terrible frost. Many of the orange crops died. One of the caretakers presented Clementine with the bad news. "I’m sorry Clementine, it doesn’t look like there will be any oranges this year. This is most unfortunate because we have a lot of sick children this year, and they need them more than ever." Clementine was very saddened by this; not because she loved the oranges so much, but because she loved the sick children in the ward much more.

She ran back to her room and began to write a letter to Santa Claus. In the letter she asked Santa to help her orphanage this Christmas. She said she didn’t want any oranges for the rest of her life, if it meant that the sick children could have them. Along with the letter, she included a small packet. In the packet were all the orange seeds she had saved over the years. She left the letter on her windowsill and settled in for the night. The wind picked up the letter and delivered it straight to the North Pole. Santa read the letter the next morning. He was so moved by Clementine’s kindness that he decided to take action. He looked at the seeds she had sent and he noticed that most of them were very old. In fact, some of them looked like they had broken in half. He knew he could not plant these seeds because they would not grow.

That year, Santa traveled the world looking for any oranges that he might be able to take to this orphanage. Unfortunately, it looked like all the sweet orange crops had died around the world. He made his final stop in China, where he visited an old friend, a Buddhist monk. The monk ran a temple that devoted much of its time growing mandarin oranges. However, the harvest from that year had been thrown away by the other monks and village people. "I’m sorry Santa. Most of us are very old, and the skins of the mandarins were too tough. We are too weak to peel the tough skin. All we have left are these seeds from last year. Most of them are old. In fact, a lot of them have split in half."

Santa stood and pondered for a little bit. He knew that this temple was his last resort. All of a sudden he had an idea.

"Head Monk, do you have any bare land for planting?" asked Santa.

"Alas, we only have one acre of land, and it is surrounded by a dark, dead forest."

"It will have to do," said Santa. " I propose that we mix our seeds together and plant them in that acre. Whatever grows we will split in half."

The Monk, believing he had nothing to lose, went along with Santa’s plan. They planted all the seeds in the land. Then, Santa brought out some buckets of melted snow from the North Pole and used it to water the seeds. Some people say that the snow from the North Pole has a little touch of magic in it. They say that it’s what makes the reindeer fly.

Santa and the Monk woke up early the next morning to check on the seeds. What they saw baffled them both. The one-acre of land was full of life. Big trees had sprouted in every direction. It seemed that even the forest surrounding the acre had turned orange and green. Each of the trees was bursting with small ripe fruit. The fruit was smaller than a sweet orange, but bigger than a mandarin.

The Monk reached out and grabbed the first little orange he saw. He peeled back the skin, and noticed how easily it came off. He picked out a slice and ate it. The slice was so sweet and juicy. It was like honey had been poured on his tongue.

There was so much fruit that all the villagers had to help Santa and the monks harvest it all. There was so much fruit, in fact, that everyone in the world received one of these special oranges for Christmas. But Santa saved a special batch that he had picked himself for a special orphanage.

That year, Santa hand-delivered the special oranges to the children at the orphanage. He saved a very special orange for Clementine. He handed her the plumpest one he could find.

"Clementine," he said, " your kind letter inspired me so much that I traveled the world looking for oranges. But I did not find any. Instead, a friend and I used some of his seeds and some of your seeds to grow some oranges. Then, these miracle oranges grew overnight. They are perfect for children, because they are very sweet, juicy, and just the right size. Because they are so perfect, I’ve decided to name them after you. From this day forth they shall be known as Clementines."

And that is why we always have Clementines during the holiday season.

A Text Conversation With A Secret Admirer

2009-12-02T20:06:00.002-05:00

Secret Admirer: Princess Heather. I think you are the most beautifulest of all the land. And the smartest. And funkiest (a good quality in my book). -A Secret Admirer

Me: You cant fool me Brad! When are you going to leave angelina for me?

SA: Dearest Heather. I KNEW you were the smartest ever. The Angelina thing is just for publicity. Shiloh & twins were made in test tubes. Soon, my love, soon. -BP

My Extremely Extensive and Intensive Review of New Moon

2009-11-21T22:07:00.002-05:00

NATIVE AMERICAN WEREWOLVES ARE HOT.

Grade: B- (this was graded on the hotness curve)

A Project

2009-11-16T00:20:00.004-05:00

Religion has always been a fascinating subject for me. People are often to too wrapped up in the controversies of religion and forget to step back from it. We forget that we can treat it as an object that is meant for observation, rather than something that envelopes our lives.

I often find that there are two major groups of people in this world: 1) people who are very religious, and 2) people who despise religion. There is a smaller group of people who consider themselves agnostic and an even smaller number of people are stuck in the middle of all three due to pure curiosity. I have found myself wandering in this smaller group.

I have decided that now is the best time to embark on a little project I’ve been thinking about for the past couple of years. I have built a very diverse network of friends, so I believe that this will work. I’ve decided that over the next couple of weeks, I would like to attend a service at all of the following, in no particular order:

1) A Hindu Temple
2) A Buddhist Temple
3) A Zoroastrian Service
4) A Mosque
5) A Baptist Church with one of those lively choirs
6) A Jewish Temple or Synagogue

This will mainly be an observational study from the perspective of someone who has faced her mortality.

I realize some of these places might have exclusion rules that might create barriers for me. This is where you guys come in. If you belong to one of these establishments, and you feel you can get me in, so to speak, I would love to attend a service with you. I would like to complete this project within before the middle of February, so we have lots of time. Please just leave a comment here with your name and I will get back to you.

A Postcard from My Head Hair to My Leg Hair

2009-11-03T19:31:00.005-05:00

(Click for Bigger)

Juggling Acorns and Rainbows

2009-10-19T21:04:00.004-04:00

So I've had my first chemo treatment, and thus far, thankfully, everything has been going fine. All the symptoms are very manageable, if they exist at all. So I must say that the mental trials have eclipsed the physical ones by one hundred fold. When I say mental, I mean more than just emotional.

Many of the resources available to cancer patients to help with deal with the physical and emotional pain, but there are very few resources to deal with the elements outside of those two realms, which I like to call the organizational pain. On top of my regular life, I have to organize many doctor's appointments, dozen of medications including dosages and times, preparations for chemo, including stocking up on food, medical supplies, books, filling out endless medical forms, making sure they get submitted to the right people, making sure everything is set up for working from home...the to-do list was endless and seem to grow not unlike the tumors in my boob.

I realized that the stress from the organizational pain could easily slip into emotional or physical pain, so I decided to change my perspective. I recalled a White Stripes song, Little Acorns, which has a intro speech by Mort Crim. Here is text from that speech:

"When problems overwhelm us and sadness smothers us, where do we find the will and the courage to continue? Well, the answer may come in the caring voice of a friend, a chance encounter with a book, or from a personal faith. For Janet help came from her faith, but it also from a squirrel. Shortly after her divorce, Janet lost her father, then she lost her job. She had mounting money problems. But Janet not only survived, she worked her way out of despondency and now she says, life is good again. How could this happen? She told me that late one Autumn day when she was at her lowest she watched a squirrel storing up nuts for the winter, one at a time he would take them to the nest. And she thought, if that squirrel can take care of himself with the harsh winter coming along, then so can I. Once I broke my problems into small pieces I was able to carry them, just like those acorns, one at a time."
For me, that's all there is to it. I didn't look at my whole list; I just looked at the next item and dealt with it on its own.

In related news, I was hypnotized on Saturday. I have a severe aversion to needles, which is a cruel phobia to give a cancer patient, and my friend's mother used hypnosis on me to help ease my anxiety. I must say, when I came to, I felt amazingly relaxed. A rush of endorphins came over me, and I was at peace. During the session, the hypnotist had me conjure an image/word that would be my "tool" for overcoming anxiety. The first word that came to mind was "rainbows", and I just went with it. I didn't really think about my choice, except that I feel color is an amazing source of energy for me. When I told my friend what my word was, she said something very wise. She said "Rainbows are made by mixing a storm with radiant light. Your sickness is like the storm, but you are the light, and together you make something beautiful."

I couldn't agree with her more. While this disease is horrible, and I wouldn't wish it on Stalin and Hitler's love child, it has brought me very close to some amazing people. I now see the miracles that reside in the hearts of everyone.

Well Fuck

2009-09-30T11:44:00.001-04:00

Most of you who read this blog already know what I am about to say. For those of you who don't, I'm very sorry, but my life has just been way too chaotic right now to call everyone individually. Plus my phone is acting stupid.

I have been diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma, the most common form of breast cancer. It is unusual for someone my age to have this, but my oncologist is very optimistic. It is at stage three, so the cancer has not spread.

Here are a few things you need to know if I have regular real life contact with you:

1) Please don't call me just yet. My phone is ringing off the hook from doctors at the moment. Don’t worry, I am smothered with love at the moment. You can leave comments here.
2) I will be undergoing chemo very soon. This means I will be wearing a wide variety of interesting hats and wigs.
3) If you are sick, you can’t come near me. My white blood cell count will be very low and I will be susceptible to infection.
4) Go to your doctor if you are sick. Like, now. In fact, if you are related to me, please just go and explain my situation to them.
4) Dolphins have prehensile penises.
5) Are you crying? Well then you are a pussy. That’s ok, I’ve had my pussified moments in the past.
6) I’m very upbeat and positive right now. I’m going to kick this fucking cancer’s ass.
7) Some of my family members do not know yet. They don’t read this blog or facebook. I plan on telling the rest by Sunday. Please keep mum to ALL of my family them until then.
I love you all. Take care of yourselves. And when I’m done with this shit, you should all come to Italy with me.

Quotes from the Journey

2009-09-21T22:49:00.002-04:00

I haven’t written in awhile, but that’s because I’ve been traveling quite a bit. I’ve been to Delaware, West Virginia, San Francisco and Alaska. I could write books on my journey to Alaska, but I figured the story could be best summed up in the quotes that were said or heard throughout the journey.

Here’s one that my friend Gina, my travel mate, overheard:

Elderly Woman with Thick Midwestern Accent: I heard there is a 24-hour boooooofay.
Elderly Man with Thicker Midwestern Accent: I need to go back to der room.
EWWTMA: Why?
EMWTMA: I forgot mah teef.
EWWTMA: Oh Cecil!

Here’s one exchange between Gina and Me:

Me: What time is it?
(Gina hits her chest repeatedly looking for her cell phone)
Me: Is it retard time?

A few others that are totally clear and do not need any context:

“I need to quote that quote in my quotebook.”
“Check out that DILF!”
“I know how to turn things on.”
“I don’t want to shake your penis.”

Some funny mispronunciations:

“Cleeeeeeeeeemate”
“Ackckckkohol” (said after having a lot of it)

And the coup d'état:

John: You’re wrong!
Gina: You’re gay!
John: I’m married!
Gina: You’re still wrong, dumbshit!
John: Booyah!

A Deeply Philosophical Rant

2009-05-19T22:49:00.031-04:00

As of late (and by late, I mean the past couple of years) I’ve had a bit of a problem meeting eligible members of the opposite sex. I’d like to attribute some of my problem to my shyness around non-personable people, which happens to be the majority of the male population. However, I do not think my shyness is the real root cause of my singleness. I have a theory about my problem, which can only be accurately described using pictures. Note: I was drinking scotch when I was drawing these, so you may see a decrease in quality throughout this entry.

This is me:

IQ: 130+
Occupation: Graphics/Editorial Associate
Age: Mid-to-late 20s

This is the type of man that would normally hit on me:

IQ: 79
Occupation: N/A
Age: 50s

I believe the reason why so many men of this type hit on me is because of American and Spanish sitcoms. Many of these shit shows feature a ridiculous fat ass married to a Maxim cover model. For example:

The hambeast has watched so many of the shitcoms that he thinks he deserves a woman that is way further up the food chain. Also, his real fantasy woman:

Doesn’t exist.

Now let’s take a look at the type of man I am attracted to:

IQ: 115+
Occupation: Anything legal that allows him to live outside his parents' house
Age: Early 20s to Early 30s

Unfortunately, this type of man is usually attracted to the following types of people:

Stick thin super models,

Body builders, or

Unlike most women, I am not willing to settle for fat, unemployed bastards. So if I don’t end up with someone like

or better, I’ll probably end up spending my life with

(this table with a head attached to it is supposed to be my cat).

My Extremely Extensive and Intensive Review of Star Trek

2009-05-10T13:33:00.001-04:00

GODDAMN.

Grade: A+++++++++++

Technology: The Future is ERROR

2009-03-07T15:43:00.004-05:00

About two hours ago, I was in the process of writing a great entry about how amazing it is that I was able to update this thing from the Cosi in Old Town Alexandria thanks to the Blogwriter Lite app for the iPhone/touch. But when I switched to a dictionary app mid-entry, the goddamn app lost my whole freaking entry.

And just now I had to switch from my Touch to my laptop because one of my fat fingers hit "Send" and Blogwriter Lite doesn't have an edit function. The only real good thing about this app is that it is free. There is a non-free version that probably has a zillion more features, but money is too expensive to spend.

I'm currently working on a "short" story that was inspired by a story my Uncle Kevin once told me. I put short in quotation marks because as I'm writing it I'm feeling my inspiration snowball out of control. It's handwritten too, so it may take awhile to get on here.

I experienced something the other week that I hadn't experienced in a couple of years: I filled up a journal. Granted at least 20 percent of the pages were filled up with doodles and random notes. Also, at least one of the notes was not written by me ("I like balls") but the note directly beneath it ("I don't think I wrote this.") was. However, the last note in the journal was definitely written by me. It was note I had written and shown to my friend Jason as we were listening to a talk about volcanoes at the Geological Society of D.C.:
"I am pretty sure the guy three rows in front of me is my ex from the ninth grade."
Jason looked around and then looked at me questioningly, as if he can't see him. I then wrote "BALD SPOT."

Catch up on the F&%ing Old, Looking Forward to Shtty the New

2009-01-13T20:50:00.006-05:00

It's a new year, a new dawn, a new blah blah blah.

My new resolution is to not say/do cliché things, like making resolutions.

As I look over this blog, I realize there are many stories I've left untold. Some funny, some moving. I've decided to continue with telling my stories, because everyone's story deserves to be told.

As I was driving around my old neighborhood during the holidays, I passed by the house of one my school friends. Her name was Andrea. I met her when I was in the fourth grade.

I was a tender child back then, and I was proud of this. I remember bragging to my friends that I had yet to "ever say a cuss word in my entire life." My mom and dad fought a lot, and I always thought curse words were only for times when you were angry. I didn't like feeling angry. I was pretty happy, and I found things that continued to make me happy, like the split-level bars on the playground during recess.

I used to hump the hell out of those things, not realizing that I was experimenting with masturbation at a very young age. Naturally I thought that there was nothing wrong with this experiment. After all, it made me feel good, like ice cream, Disney movies, and running real fast made me feel good. Then one day one of my male classmates caught me in my hot metal love affair and all was lost. By the next day, word had spread of my wanton ways, and I was a total outcast. My classmates were not only cruel, they were stupid. Kids would unabashedly spread whispers about me, right in my presence.

One day I just couldn't take it anymore. It was the day two new girls had just joined our class, and we were in the middle of watching a movie. One of the new girls decided to take the spot next to me. As she sat down, Jenny Smith, the biggest bitch in our class, looked at me, and then bent down towards the new girl and began whisper something in her ear. I’d had enough.

"Jenny, for pete’s sake, I know what you are going to whisper to her. You might as well just say it out loud."
"Wha, I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Your pants are so on fire. Listen, new girl, she was going to tell you that I humped one of the poles on the playground. She was going to warn you that you were sitting next to a pole-humper. There, it's out there. Now shutup Jenny and leave me alone."

Jenny sat back down. I don't think I saw her whisper again for the rest of the year. The new girl, whose name I have forgotten, stared straightforward during the rest of the day, determined not to make eye contact with either of us. I don't remember her saying more than two words that year.

The next day I remember seeing that the whispers had died down, but the looks of resentment and disgust remained. All of my classmates looked down on me, except for one. It was the other new girl. I saw her quietly playing by herself underneath one of the big trees that just bordered a wooded area behind our school. The wooded area was one of my favorite places to play. I decided that as I passed by, I would say hello to her and introduce myself.

She was a thicker girl, but not fat. She seemed to be very strong, as I saw her split pretty thick pieces of branch in two with her bare hands. Her face was moon shaped, and her eyes were big and brown. As I walked towards her she smiled, and I thought that, besides her strength, she looked to be very sweet and gentle.

"Hi, my name is Heather. What's yours?"
"I'm Andrea. I just moved here. My dad's in the army and he was just transferred here."
"Oh really? That's cool. Say, there's this tree in the woods there that I throw sticks at while pretending their ninja stars. Wanna come join?"
"Fuck'n A! Let's wreck that shit, bitch!"
"...Um...scuse me?"
"We'll tear that tree a new asshole!"
"Good GOD."

I stared at here with admiration, as if she had just turned into the Holy Grail. My mind had been opened. She made me realize that cuss words not made for just anger, but they were meant weave a tapestry of the whole spectrum of human emotion. I was enlightened.

"Where...did...you learn to talk like that?"

"Uh, my dad's in the army, duh!"

And that was it. We gathered as many "ninja stars" as we could hold in our arms, and cursed the shit out of that motherfucking tree.

I wouldn't want to say that Andrea was a bad influence by any means. She helped me learn to speak my mind in new ways. Ways that made me feel uplifted and unashamed. I wasn't stupid though; I knew my parents were not as enlightened as me, and so I held off on unleashing my proverbial palette of profanity upon them.

Andrea and I became good friends over the coming months, until one fateful slumber party. She had invited me to spend a Friday night at her place, and I was at the age where nothing, absolutely nothing, was better than a slumber party. My sentiment completely changed after that Friday night.

Andrea's home life was, for lack of a better term, completely fucked up. To start the night off, Andrea's father asked me if I were allowed to watch movies with "women’s chests." Thinking he meant a beach movie with women in bikinis (perhaps "Weekend at Bernie's") I unwittingly said yes. We then began to watch what I would come to know in the future as a softcore porno. I should also mention that Andrea had a mentally challenged sister who would shout "Tits! Tits! Tits!" every time the movie showed boobs.

Then dinnertime came. Andrea was passing out some rice and she accidentally spilled some on the table. Her dad began to whip her viciously with a belt for her mistake. At that point I sort of mentally checked out. I felt helpless and bewildered, and everything seemed surreal. I wanted to rush into bed so that the morning would come sooner. Once dinner was over, Andrea bounced out of her chair (apparently recovered from her lashing) and shouted "Bath time, bitch!!" She grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs. She threw a towel in my face and said, "You can take your bath first! Bathroom is down the hall."

I ran into the bathroom and closed the door. My mind was ablaze with the insanity that had occurred in the past few hours. I decided a bath would be the best thing to calm me, so I disrobed and hopped in the tub. Just as I was about to immerse my head, I received the shock of a lifetime.

"Surprise! Slumber Bathtime!" Andrea screamed as she burst through the bathroom door completely naked and holding a can of Coca Cola. She ran into the bathtub and screamed, "You look dirty! Time for your Coke bath!" And she proceeded to empty out the can of Coke on my head. And this is where I snapped.

I jumped out of the bathtub and ran my head under the sink, all the while shouting the most colorful of curse words in her general direction. I put my clothes on as fast as I could and ran out of the bathroom into one of the bedrooms. I searched the second floor for a phone in total desperation, but there was none to be found. I knew there was a phone in the kitchen, but I heard screaming noises coming from there. I wanted to crawl out the window and run home, but I didn't know the way. I stopped myself at the top of the stairs, dumbfounded was to what I should do. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned around and Andrea stood there in a pink robe.

"I'm sorry I freaked you out, bitch. Let's just get some fucking shuteye."

I walked cautiously back to her room. She let me have the bottom bunk of her bed, and I was grateful, because I knew that would allow for easier escape. I don't think I slept a wink that night.

The next morning was weirdly quiet. I waited near the garage door, eager to hear my mom’s car engine. When she did arrive, I did something I hadn't done in a long time. I ran to her and I hugged her, I was determined not to let her go.

"Oh hi there, Mrs. Borra!" said Andrea's father. "We loved having Heather over last night. In fact, she's welcome to stay tonight as well if she wants!"

My mom took a quick glance of Andrea's family and then she looked down at me. She could see the tears beginning to wellup in my eyes.

"I'm sorry sir, but we've got a family event planned for this evening. It was nice meeting you all!"

I hugged her all the way back to the car.

After that, Andrea's and my friendship was on eggshells at best. Eventually we stopped hanging out all together. The weird thing is, I didn't really realize how seriously disturbed Andrea's home life was until much later. This is probably why a lot of abuse goes unreported. Kids just think it is normal because adults are causing the abuse and what adults do is always right. Each time I passed her house in recent years, I wished I could go back and save Andrea from her wretched home life, rather than just running away from it. But now I'm smarter and stronger. However, I still curse a goddamned motherfucking blue streak.

NaNoWriMo Begins

2008-11-01T22:01:00.003-04:00

This year I've decided to participate in NaNoWriMo. I have to write about 1700 words a day for the entire month of November. Today I wrote 3000 words. I purposely did not go out tonight, which is really saying something being that I'm a desperately single female.

To assist me in my literary journey, I bought an iPod touch. It is much cheaper than a laptop or an iPhone, and I need to replace my old iPod anyway. It has almost changed my life. When I went to sleep on the first night I had it, I cuddled with it. For the first time in nearly two years I did not feel the intense yearning for human companionship as this little miracle device had satisfied that need.

Those last two sentences are completely fictional.

I don't know why NaNoWriMo chose November. It's the beginning of the holiday season, so people are naturally immensely busy. I foresee this being a very stressful month, being that I have numerous projects at work, several social events, several family events (including a Thanksgiving/birthday party in which there will be 87 attendees), and several other little personal projects to attend to (like getting my first date in nearly two years).

All that said, I think I can do it. I perform very well under stress. There has only been a few times when I nearly fall off the edge, but then something miraculous happens, and I'm pulled back into the true wonders of reality. Something like this happened just the other day.

I walk the same route to work every morning. I enjoy walking to work because it gives me time to listen to music and think about my life, though they may not be the most pleasant of thoughts. Each day I walk across the same bridge, and on this same bridge is always the same homeless man. Most homeless people in this area are very transient, but not this one. Everyday he lifts his cup of change in my direction, and everyday I ignore him. At first, I ignored him because I never had any change on me. Now I ignore him no matter what is in my pocket.

Lately I've been seeing a shriveled old homeless woman walking around this same area. At first I didn't know she was homeless, she just looked slightly disheveled. Then as days passed I noticed that she never changed clothes and she was always in hanging around the same general area. Also, she always wore a thick, dirty winter coat, no matter what the weather was like. The coat was similar to one I had back in the 80s, when I was nine. I never see this woman beg, but I have seen her foraging through trash.

On Friday morning I was in a particular funk. I hadn't been feeling well lately, and I was thinking about the utter misery that is my nonexistent love life. I was really feeling horrible, and as I came upon the bridge I secretly wished that the homeless man weren't there so I wouldn't have to deal with him. As I started crossing the bridge, I noticed that homeless woman was standing in front of the seated homeless man and bending down towards him. She was talking to him, and he was stoically listening. Then something astounding happened.

As the woman was talking, the man reached into a cup, pulled out a fistful of change and handed it to her. Her body still bent, she shoved the money into her coat pocket. Just before she straightened, I saw a single but large tear drop from her eye.

I felt sick with myself. I just saw and extreme act of pure human kindness, and only moments before I was wallowing in self pity. I wanted to pour everything out of my pockets and shower it on these people. I wanted to buy them a feast every day for the rest of their lives. I wanted to put them a castle in the sky, with huge fireplaces and silky soft beds so that they may never sleep in the cold or lie on the pavement ever again. But my pockets were empty and I had not a scrap of food on me. I also felt that this was a private moment, something that neither one wanted anyone to witness. But I felt I was meant to witness this. I felt some force had propelled me to this occurrence so I could see that even most degraded person has goodness within them.

Next time I see either one of them, I will buy them some food, maybe give the some money. I will ask them their names. I will say hello each time I see them.

The Purging

2008-09-07T22:02:00.047-04:00

Now that I no longer have a car, I find myself fiddling with my phone a lot more. This is because I often find myself bored at a bus stop or train station, or I fiddle with it to avoid eye contact with homeless people as I walk to work. The other day I noticed that my photo memory was nearly full, so I realized I need to cull some of the photos. Before I do that, however, I would like to immortalize some of them on this blog.

I had about four billion pictures of my cat, but this one was the cutest:

I found this note stuck in a bible at church on Christmas Eve last year:

This what my car looked like after the accident:

These next two pictures are from my indoor garden (an eggplant and a strawberry, respectively):

Because I have a really juvenile sense of humor, I had to take these next two photos. The first one I took at metro station and the second one at a grocery store:

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the world's gayest doughnut:

Now this following picture represents the pinnacle of assholery:

I posted this picture on craiglist, along with his license plate number and a short description of how I saw the driver rape a nun while giving the finger to the American flag.

This picture of an incredibly useful and insightful poster was taken at a warehouse bathroom:

Once upon a time I got really bored at a meeting, so I drew a picture of my cat with a black belt in karate, nunchucks, and a beer:

This is what my cat looks like in real life:

Not Dead, Just Sleeping

2008-08-19T20:50:00.002-04:00

So much for lazy summers. In case you are wondering where I've been, here's a list of what I've been up to this summer:

-working on a proposal
-vacationing in a place with no Internet access
-gardening
-working on another proposal (almost nonstop for three weeks)
-traveling to deliver said proposal
-getting into a car accident
-taking vacation to recover from said car accident, again in a place with no Internet access
-finding out that muscle relaxers cause me to drool profusely while sleeping
-taking more vacation, again in a place with no Internet access, sharing said muscle relaxers with friends

I've been planning to write an entry that was about my text messaging habits, but my phone (which I would need for reference) is currently dead. So instead I've decided to write a list of things that have not, and never will, live up to the hype that the general public gives them:

1) Moulin Rouge. If you take away the hackneyed covers and the cliche story, you'd find that this movie is nothing but a turd with some pink glitter on it.
2) Tofu. People say you can make tofu taste like anything. This is because tofu has no taste. You may be able to change the taste, but it will always have the texture of wet boogers.
3) Chipotle. Seriously folks? Seriously?
4) Robaxin. This is the muscle relaxer my doctor prescribed me. It sucks ass.
5) Cars. Mine was just totaled. Now that I don't have one, I realized what a life-sucking money pit it was.
6) Quentin Tarantino movies. All of them.
7) The Da Vinci Code.
8) Revenge of the Sith. This movie got 80 percent on rottentomatoes.com. For shame.
9) Jack Black. The art of making fat + manic= funny died with Chris Farley.
10) Most anime.
11) Humus.

I HAVE A FAN!

2008-07-23T01:12:00.005-04:00

An "unknown" assailant has been commenting up a storm on my blog....and I love it! Also, this assailant has said that they are running out of posts to read on my blog, so I will post more. Soon. I promise.

To entertain you in the meantime, here is a series of random Garfield frames that I spliced together:

My extremely intensive and extensive review of Indiana Jones 4

2008-05-23T00:38:00.002-04:00

Shia Lebouf is kinda hot in a leather jacket. But not 10-dollars-for-a-ticket hot.

Grade: F--

Pissing In The Woods

2008-04-22T22:38:00.002-04:00

“I was almost shot once.”

Sometimes I find myself saying this phrase aloud at times when I find the current conversation boring. Most of the time the lifeless communal “dialog” is due to only one person. Everyone knows this type of person. This is the friend that everyone has; the person who absorbs conversations so that it wraps completely around them. It’s the friend that gushes about every meaningless detail of his or her existence. You are only friends with the person because you have no reason to truly hate them. They just bore you. They’ll trail on about the new socks they found at the Gap. They’ll deliver manifestos about how much they love bagels. They’ll present an oral thesis on how good their gas mileage is. The other people that might be “engaged” in this conversation are either too bored or not creative enough to protest the wasted words. They are just awake enough to feign interest.

When I utter these five words, a ripple effect quickly spreads throughout the room. It’s as if every person has just received his or her first breath of air while simultaneously receiving an electric shock. These brightening expressions give me a brief feeling of self-satisfaction. Even more so, I always find the expression from the brainless babbler supremely arousing. Call it petty, but I believe the energy-sucking prattler should be put in his or her place. I see it as a public service. I’m not saying that I’m a terribly interesting person. However, I do know what is and isn’t interesting. I know this story is supremely interesting for one simple reason: it is, unabashedly, true.

It is next impossible to tell this story without first explaining some my family dynamics. My mother is an incredibly successful businesswoman. She is fantastically smart, sharply organized, and shrewdly ambitious. What is so off-kilter is that, thanks to these attributes, she has overcome one major flaw. My mother has a secret, but powerful handicap: she is the world’s worst decision-maker.

“Heather, don’t you think it would be a fun idea to visit Ocean City next month?”

“You mean during Christmas? Mom, you want to spend Christmas at a summer resort?”

“Well, yes indeedy! I think it would be fun! There will be plenty of stuff to do!”

“But mom, everything there is closed in the winter.”

“DON’T ARGUE WITH ME YOUNG LADY!”

Every year we would leave early due to mind-boggling boredom.

She repeated this mistake for several years, until finally her mind was set straight when she got into a car accident (in my car) and the local police officer treated her like a bowl of seagull shit. I have inherited a diminished version of this flaw. Instead of trips to the beach, my mistakes involve trips to the grocery store. About once a year I will buy soy-based mayonnaise and try to convince myself it will taste just like the real thing. Someday, hopefully, I will learn that I can’t outwit my taste buds.

One of the pinnacles of my mother’s lack of decision-making prowess was reached on a brisk August night. We were driving home from our family’s timeshare on Bryce Mountain in the Shenandoah Valley. My mother as looking at the map, and she noticed that we were very close to the location of her company’s team building event that was to be held the following week. It was to be held in wooded plot of land in the middle of Fredericksburg; a town whose human population is very closely rivaled by its cattle population. So my mother decided that the best thing to do at 10 o’clock at night was to drive into the uncharted territory of Nowheresville, USA.

We got off the highway and ended up on an unlit back-country road whose asphalt paving was the only sign that it had been visited in the past fifty years. After twenty miles or so, my mother, brother, and I were all hit by the exact same urge at the exact same time. We all had to, at that very moment, take the biggest leaks of our lives. It was as if the urine fairy gave us all a tap at the same time with her three yellow wands. My mother pulled off on to a tiny dirt road, and she and my brother shot off into the dark woods. I, however, was way more timid, and decided I would try to hold it until we got back to civilization. My mother, with her aforementioned flaw, came to a different conclusion.

“Get your ass out of the car,” she exclaimed while zipping up her trousers.

“It may be a helluva long time before you get to piss again, so get out and pop a squat!”

“But moooooom, we have no idea where we are. I could be pissing in some guy’s rose garden for all I know. I can’t see my hand in front of my face!” My logic seemed lost on her.

“Get out of the goddamned car right now! If it’s too dark for you, just piss somewhere in the light of the headlights.”

Most mothers seem to have no concept of privacy when it comes to their children. My mother is not exempt from this. When we are shopping for clothes, she opens the door to my dressing room without knocking, and often leaves the door wide-open.

“I’m not pissing in front of you and Chris! Fine, I’ll just find a spot in those things that look like bushes.”

I walked deeper into the woods to where I could not be heard or seen by my mother. As I walked through the brush I debated whether or not I should fake taking a leak and hold it until we reached a fast food restaurant.

What happened in the next few seconds totally negated any decision that I was about to make.

As I reached for my belt buckle, I heard a very loud pop. I dismissed it immediately as someone’s tire blowing out in the distance. But then I heard it again. And again. And again, again, again. Then I felt a sharp gust of wind and heard a sound that can only be described as a ptwang. I heard the ptwang sound again, and a leaf just above my head exploded. I realized that someone was firing bullets at me.

I crouched to the ground and ran as fast as I could (not very fast when you are crouching). As I scuffled over the car, my mother rolled down the window, and asked (in a very matter-of-factly tone) “Heather, are you being shot at?”

“FUCKING YES I AM, FUCK, SHIT, AHHHHHHHHHH!”

And then my mother proceeded to drive off. Without me.

I was running at full speed now. I caught up to the car and banged wildly on the windows. My mother slowed the car down, but did not come to a full stop. I tried to open the door. It. Was. Locked. My mother took a moment or two to unlock the door. I half-expected the handle to come off in my hand. Finally, the door was open and I dove into the car.

“DRIVE WOMAN! DRIVE!” And we took off into the night.

My mother laughed the whole way home.

How to Throw a Kick-Ass Make-up Bachelorette Party

2008-03-30T21:49:00.005-04:00

A good bachelorette party requires little more than dancing, alcohol, good friends, and just a hint of kinkiness. But for "make-up" bachelorette parties, a little extra spice is required. Not many have heard of make-up bachelorette parties, probably because not many people have participated in one. A make-up bachelorette party, as opposed to its more widely accepted counterpart, takes place after the wedding, either because the original party sucked or didn't take place. Therefore, the now married bride requires a little extra pick-me-up.

My friend Holly's initial bachelorette party took place on a weekend when almost everyone was out of town. Her turnout was so low that she had to combine her party with her soon-to-be husband's bachelor party. They went to dinner at the Melting Pot, a restaurant where you pay through the nose to cook your own food. Afterwards they went to a lame bar or two, got tired, and went home early. She's a good friend, and she's in a good marriage where no jealousy issues are involved, so I knew throwing a make-up bachelorette party was in order. The event occurred this past Saturday, and with this experience I've compiled a list of must-haves for the ultimate make-up bachelorette party.

1) Human excrement. Try to find a steaming pile about the size of a small mountain outside one of D.C.'s finer nightclubs. Bonus points if you save one of your intoxicated friends from slipping in it.
2) Enough alcohol to kill a bison. Split between six small women, of course.
3) Lots of public sex. Don't know where to find this? I suggest some of D.C.'s "higher-end" (pun intended) clubs, mostly because at these clubs, you will find that many of the women are...
4) Prostitutes. Preferably a spectrum of them, from the high-class call girl to the crack-smoking junkie whore. Some of the lower end ones could even qualify for...
5) World's Ugliest Transvestite. Make sure some of your very drunk friends dance with this shemale, not knowing she is sporting a raging hard-on. Also, make sure the transvestite's dancing style resembles the motions of a dummy in a slow-motion crash test video.
6) Pizza.

Budapest

2008-02-25T22:04:00.090-05:00

About four months ago, my mother offered to take me on one of her business trips. A PR firm was holding its annual nutrition-centered conference in Budapest in mid-February, and she offered to let me tag along as sort of a late Christmas/early birthday present. Surprisingly, it took a bit of convincing to get me to come. I don't know why I was so apprehensive at the time. It might have been because the most recent trip I had taken with my mother had not turned out quite as well as I had expected. It also might have been because I, like so many of my contemporaries, had very little knowledge of Budapest.

Around Christmas time, something in my brain snapped. I remember thinking "What am I thinking? It's a FREE trip to a European city for christsake!"

I left a voicemail for my mom early one morning saying I would be happy to join. I was biting my nails the rest of the day, hoping to God that it wasn’t too late. I got a call from her later that day and she told she was trying to secure a ticket for me. Ironically enough, I was in a Barnes and Noble at the time waiting in line to purchase a travel book on Budapest. As luck would have it, she was able to cash in her frequent flyer miles for my ticket, and the PR firm allowed the invitees to bring guests for a small fee. So my hotel and plane ticket were practically free. When I returned home from Barnes and Noble that night I read the book nearly cover to cover.

After reading the guidebook, I decided to set some goals for this trip. I knew that it would be a long time before I would be able to go on a vacation like this again. This trip had potential for some intense isolation and self-discovery, so the goals I made were built around that. I am happy to say that I was able to fulfill most of my goals. They were as follows:

Goal # 1) Take night photographs- Check.

I was able to borrow a tripod so I could test out some night photography.

This was our hotel, Four Seasons Gresham Palace. This hotel was the Four Seasons of Four Seasons.

This is Szechenyi Chained Bridge. It was the first permanent bridge built across the Danube in Budapest.

Detail of the bridge.

This is the Royal Palace in the Castle District. It houses the National Gallery.

This is a statue of Deak Ferencz, an important Hungarian statesman.

Goal # 2) Visit a Turkish bath- Check.

This is the Szechenyi bathing complex, which houses one of Budapest’s biggest outdoor baths. The word “furdo” means spa in Hungarian. It also has indoor baths, saunas, and steam rooms. It was a gorgeous complex. It was very opulently decorated, like a palace. Here is some of the detail of the lobby:

Goal # 3) Meet new people-Check.

The smart-looking lady is Lisa and the handsome devil to her right is Rob. We met at a lecture about Hungarian food one the first day of the conference. Rob and Lisa were traveling with Rob’s mom. I spent a lot of time with these folks. Lisa was a sweet and enthusiastic individual, and Rob was funny and affable. Lisa and I shared an affinity for all things hippy-like, and Rob and I shared an affinity for a fine glass of scotch. Since both of these of these folks are from California, they both…

…love drinking wine. We had a great time together.

I also had the pleasure of meeting Sandra. She is probably the most delightfully entertaining and interesting person I’ve met in quite awhile. She was traveling with her cousin Keisha, who was also attending the conference.

Goal # 4) Try new foods and eat a lot -

That’s a big check.

Goal # 5) Take at least two pictures that I am very happy with- Check.

Goal # 6) Buy Absinthe- Check.

I bought two small bottles of Pere Kermann's brand. I bought one for me and one for my brother.

Goal # 7) Try palinka.- Check.

I tried some in the hotel bar. Unfortunately, it was too dark to take any pictures. The drink was very similar to grappa, and had the propensity to be just as disgusting.

Goal # 8) Have a one-night stand.

I’ve never had one before, and, to sound ever-so cliché, I’m not getting any younger, therefore, time is running out. Having a no-strings-attached fornication session in a beautiful foreign country with a hot guy who I would never see again seemed like the way to do it. I don’t have pictorial evidence of this, not only because I’m a lady and would never post such things, but also because it didn’t happen. All the good-looking men I saw on this trip were either taken, gay, didn’t speak a word of English, or just didn’t seem interested. So that’s a big UNCHECK.

Accomplishing seven out of the eight goals was awesome. I knew goal # 8 was pretty far-fetched anyway, and I just sort of threw it in half-jokingly. The other seven goals were necessary for a well-rounded cultural experience.

In conclusion, this trip will be remembered as one of the most luxurious and breathtakingly beautiful experiences of my life. I guess what I’ve learned from this voyage is to never, under any circumstances, turn down a free trip to a European city.

If you would like to see more photos from my trip, please visit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/68109917@N00/sets/72157603956509052/show/

With Sincere Regards

2008-01-23T00:40:00.000-05:00

Sadly, Heath Ledger, who starred in two of the diddleworthy movies I mentioned in my last post, has passed.

I must say that I am more than a little shocked. The natural things that happen to us seem so unnatural, especially when someone so young is ripped away. It's almost as if, and bear with me on this one, the events that were supposed to happen in a parallel universe got shuffled up and accidentally happened in ours. In this other universe, the talented people of our generation are living long and fruitful lives that almost too slowly fade into the night, whilst in our universe they are extinguished when their light is at its brightest.

It's possible that everyone has a parallel self that is in some way immortal. I take a slight comfort in this theory. Some might call these everliving versions of ourselves merely their twin in different situation. I like to think of them as our souls.

RIP Mr. Ledger.

Diddlefest '08

2008-01-16T22:52:00.000-05:00

A few years ago some female friends and myself made plans to go see the movie "Troy" despite it receiving horrid reviews. We made these plans because A) this movie had several hot men in it and B) these hot men would be doing several hot things, i.e. wearing gladiator-esque outfits, wrestling each other, etcetera.

I jokingly referred to the event as "Diddlefest '04" because I knew that many of us would feel the urge to whip out our lady bits and go to town right there in the theatre. This phrase has now been coined for any movie that A) has two or more famously hot young men and B) has these men doing hot things, possibly together. Since this initial event, several movies have fit this category. Here are some examples by year:

2004-Troy, as mentioned above
2005-Brokeback Mountain, I thought about bringing plastic sheets to this one
2006- This was a shitty year for diddleworthy movies, and a shitty year for movies in general. Bear in mind, however, that I have not seen "The Departed".
2007-300

And my prediction for Diddlefest '08 is......

*opens envelope*

THE DARK KNIGHT!

Please let me know if I've missed any movies in the years mentioned above. I know there have been several diddleworthy movies prior to or around 2004. Here are a few that are worth mentioning:

Fight Club (1999)
Velvet Goldmine (1998)
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2005)- don't ask

*Edit*- I would like to add that in order for a movie to be diddleworthy, the famously hot men have to look famously hot within that movie. Case in point:

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1998)- This does not qualify as diddleworthy, despite it starring two very hot men: Johnny Depp and Benicio Del Torro. This is because Benicio Del Torro looks more bloated than a balloon at a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, and Johnny Depp looks like, well, like Hunter S. Thompson.

My New Boyfriend

2007-12-28T14:18:00.000-05:00

I met him a few months ago. My officemate introduced me to him at an Indian restaurant and it was love at first sight.

I love everything about him. He’s rich, he’s smooth, he’s cultured, he smells good, and, most importantly, he satisfies me, if you know what I mean. He is also vegetarian, which is a nice touch.

His name is Malai Kofta, and he is a South-Asian flavor invader. Here is a picture of him.

Doesn’t he look delicious?

In case you haven’t caught on, Malai Kofta is not a person, it is an Indian dish. I’ve gone back to being vegetarian again, and thanks to tasty dishes like this, I may stay that way.

This is my holiday card

2007-12-10T23:05:00.000-05:00

You click now!

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=9626862768

Parts

2007-10-22T21:57:00.000-04:00

Sometimes when I’m alone I like to think about the past. I think about people who have entered and exited my life. I think about the times when I was at my happiest. I was a happy child. I was very non-judgmental. I tried to find the fun in every situation. I found that adults were very drawn to me. I started talking at a very young age, so I was easy to communicate with. I would talk to practically anyone.

I remember having many conversations with my Uncle Eddie when I was a child. I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house in those days, and Uncle Eddie still lived with them. He had a collection of spare radio parts which I found fascinating. I would play with the moving parts and buttons and he would explain what each part did.

He also had a collection of vinyl records and a very old turntable. He would let me take his most precious records out of their sleeves and mount them on to the table, with only the slightest bit of assistance when putting the needle down.

I looked forward to spending time with Uncle Eddie nearly every week. He always had a new gadget to show me, or a new record to test out. At the age of six I felt like Uncle Eddie was my closest friend.

I never wondered much about my Uncle Eddie’s life outside of the radios and the records. I never wonder why he still lived with his parents. I never wondered why my Nana made him sleep with his bedroom door open. I never wondered why I never saw him leave the house, why he never had any friends over, or why he didn’t have a job. At least, I didn’t start to wonder until a few years later.

My visits to my grandparents’ house became more and more infrequent over the years. When I was about 9-years-old I found out that Uncle Eddie was the oldest of all my dad’s siblings. It got me thinking about why a man older than my dad would still live with his parents.

Children always understand more than their parents give them credit for. They hear whispers and under the table conversations. Before they can add, the can put together bits of a conversation to come to conclusions that are not that far from the truth. By the time I was 13-years-old I had finally solved the equation.

Uncle Eddie was a diagnosed schizophrenic. He manifested when he was about 20, and he started to self-medicate. He became addicted to a variety of drugs, which only exacerbated his illness. Consequently, he was never able to hold down a job or a place to live. He stopped taking the drugs, but he never gave up chain smoking. I remember hearing loud coughs in the middle of the night, but I never saw him smoke.

As I became older I found myself wanting to spend less and less time at my grandparents’ house. After I became fully aware of my Uncle Eddie’s past, the image of his life very became very saddening. I became scared that my parents or I could one day end up in the same situation. I didn’t want to think about it.

I avoided conversations with him. He would try to show me his latest radio kit or vintage record, but I would usually just brush him off. I could tell that this would affect him. His brow would crinkle in disappointment and he would shy away. As much as I was depressed by his lifestyle, I was even more depressed and sickened by my own behavior.

At the age of 15 I had a bit of a falling out with my father and his side of the family. I didn’t see Uncle Eddie again until my grandmother was on her deathbed.

When my grandparents died I became worried about who would take care of Uncle Eddie. My aunt told me that all of my grandparents’ assets were liquidated into a fund for Uncle Eddie. My aunt and uncles set him up in an adult community. My great aunt, who suffered a similar affliction, spent a lot of time in a similar community, and I got the impression that it enriched her life.

After hearing this I felt a bit better about my Uncle Eddie’s situation. He would be out of the house; he might make new friends. The fund that was set up for him was not sizeable, but it would be enough to take care of his food, lodging, car and healthcare.

I sort of forgot about him through the rest of college.

The winter after I graduated my aunt invited my mom, brother and I to a holiday dinner. We decided that it would be nice to see everyone.

I was surprised to see Uncle Eddie there. He had gained a lot of weight, his hair was disheveled and his shirt was not buttoned properly. He had a blank, bordering on melancholy, look on his face. Schizophrenia is a degenerative disease, and he had slipped a little further down the slope. At first I felt the same stab of sadness that punctured me when I was thirteen. But then my eye wondered to the woman that was sitting next to him. I had never seen her before. She was wearing a similar façade. I asked my aunt who the woman was. She turned out to be my Uncle Eddie’s new girlfriend.

My mom had been divorced from my dad for nearly seven years at that point, and she had yet to secure a significant other. I feeling began to well up within me. I looked at my Uncle Eddie with joy.

We engaged in some very small talk, mostly about NPR and smoking. He told me that he was trying to quit again. He said he hadn’t attempted to quit again since about 17 years earlier. I would have been about 6-years-old.

After the meal we exchanged a few presents. My aunt always loved to buy me clothes, and she is the one person that knows my taste. The rest of my family gave us checks. My last gift was the most unexpected. Before I got up to get dessert, my Uncle Eddie walked over to me and handed me a small package.

“I remember how you used to say you loved watching movies with your dad,” he said.

I opened the package and inside was a Blockbuster coupon for one free rental.

I stared at the card for a moment. I was very silent for a few moments, which may have come across as disappointment. He gave the same crinkled eyebrow look and began to shy away. I practically screamed thank you at him before he turned away. In those moments of silence I was trying to fight back a waterfall of tears. The emotion caught up with me and became lodged in my throat. When he began to shy away some of that emotion came out.

The rest of the night I had to fight from breaking into tears. I kept thinking about his condition, his fixed income and my cold disposition. He fought through all that to buy me something that linked to a conversation I shared with him as a child. That small blue card was the best Christmas present I have ever received.

I still have it with me to this day. I keep it to remind myself not to judge too harshly. I keep it as a reminder of true kindness.

I Don't Normally Post Internet Quiz Results...

2007-10-10T21:27:00.000-04:00

But this one shows how fucking awesome I am:

See What You're Made Of - Visit The Official Site

Watching

2007-09-26T21:38:00.001-04:00

The Ravages of Time

2007-09-24T20:47:00.001-04:00

It's around that time of year again. It's very close to my birthday. I usually get depressed around this time, and recently I found some pictures that did not help my mood. These pictures made me realize that time does no one any favors.

I was surfing Yahoo News and I came upon this picture of Jim Carrey and Jenny McCarthy:

They say time ravages the face, but I think in this case time replaced Carrey's face with a catcher's mitt.

A couple of days ago I watched the movie "With Honors," which stars Brendan Fraser. After the movie I looked Fraser up on Wikipedia and came across this picture:

It looks like Fraser traded his hair for an extra chromosome.

Utica Wedding

2007-09-18T17:33:00.000-04:00

This weekend I went to my friends' wedding in Utica, New York. I was surprised by how nice the town was. It was surrounded by rolling fields of green, and the town itself had a lot of character. There were not one, but two record shops within walking distance.

It was colder than usual, and I had forgot to bring a jacket, so my friends and I stopped by the Salvation Army. I bought two awesome corduroy blazers, one of them being bright red, which went well with my shiny purple nails.

It made me realize that most of my favorite pieces of clothing were bought in thrift stores. I find that if I shop at thrift stores, I'm more likely to wear something more interesting and risky. If people question my fashion sense, I can always use the thrift store defense, implying that it's better to buy something that's cheap and audacious rather than something expensive and plain.

The wedding was tons of fun. I got to spend a lot of time with good friends, and I got to catch up with some old ones.

You can view a slideshow of photos I took at the wedding here.

I decided to hire a cat sitter for this trip, being that I found it too stressful on myself and my cat to load him up in the car every time. When I got home after the wedding, I found a note on my door that stated something akin to:

“Your cat is fine…..so cute….blah blah still have your key….blah blah stop by later….blah blah I BORROWED YOUR ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT SEASON TWO DVD.”

The emphasis in this statement was added by me.

Some of you might be familiar with this ancient Chinese proverb: “Don’t fuck with another man’s car.”

Some of you may be less familiar with the female equivalent of this proverb, which is: “Don’t fuck with a single woman-who-doesn’t-have-cable-tv’s DVD collection.”

I tried not to get too miffed. After all, she did tell me she borrowed it, despite not asking for real permission. Besides, it was kinda like someone borrowing my bible. Yes, they took it without asking for permission, but it will help convert her to the awesomeness that is the Arrested Development series.

Another Expulsion Article

2007-08-28T13:04:00.000-04:00

This one I wrote when Patrick Ramsey was moved from starting to backup quarter back for the Redskins. For those of you don't know, Patrick Ramsey looks like he's twelve years old. This is a point/counterpoint.

No One Takes Me Seriously Anymore, Not Even Coach
by Patrick Ramsey

I can’t stand this anymore. Everyone treats me like a stupid little kid. I keep getting pushed around. I’m constantly bullied on the field, and my offensive doesn’t want to cover me. They think it’s “cute” when I get sacked three times in a row. They laugh so hard they don’t care that we lose to the freaking Cardinals because they got four safeties off us. What does a guy gotta do to get some respect?

Whatever happened to team unity? When I was at Tulane I set over 20 passing records. I couldn’t have done that without the help of my offensive line, who didn’t think it was so funny to see me get knocked on my ass every week.

I try explaining my college success to my fellow ‘Skins, and they mostly laugh and say that I probably fit in well with the other “little college shits.” When I get upset they would offer me some milk and cookies. Lavar Arrington usually offers me a consoling shoulder, and he says it is because the other guys are jealous of my boyish good looks. If that doesn’t cheer me up, he offers to put me down for a nap.

Things briefly changed when Spurrier made me the starter in his last season as Redskins Head Coach. He seemed to be the only team player. But after he left and Coach Gibbs signed on, things went right back to crappy. Gibbs signed on stupid Mark Brunnell, who stupidly sucked throughout the first half of the 2004 season. I guess then Coach decided to give me a real chance and he put me back as the starter. At the time I thought, “Finally, some gosh darn recognition!” For a while, things seemed to only get better.

A month after putting me back in the game, Coach announced that I would be the starting quarterback of the 2005 season. This is where the poop hit the fan again.I guess the guys found it pretty funny that I was the head of the team again. They began bullying moreso than they had ever done before. Every time I get sacked now, Portis looks at me with a fake frown and says “Aww what’s wrong? Are you gonna cry now little girl?” I find this question rather obtuse considering that I’m usually not crying out of pain, but to help reject the cleat spikes that are imbedded in my eyes sockets.

Then came the Bears game. The neck injury I suffered during this game was minor, but Coach saw it fit to take me out and make Mark Brunnell the starter. That Brunnell is such an f-ing a-hole. Out of all the jerks on the team, he is the meanest to me. He says that if I don’t call him “Big Master Daddy” every time he makes a completion, he’ll tell the monsters in my closet to eat my family. Every now and then I hear rumbling noises in my closet, but I swear it is just Santana Moss doing drills.

Well, Hi There, Little Boy! Are You Lost?
By A Teenage Girl

Well aren’t you just the most precious thing I ever saw! You are so cute and sweet I could just eat you up! Now, what is a little guy like you doing in a big, scary stadium like this? I’m here because it’s my little brother’s birthday and he is a big Santana Moss fan. Say, you are probably about my brother’s age. Once we find your parents we should arrange a play date! Oh, little boy, don’t cry. I’ll get you some candy, and then we will find your mommy and daddy. It may take awhile; do you have to go potty? No? You are fully trained right? Well aren’t you a big boy now! If I had any stickers I’d give you a big gold star. So how old are you sweetheart? Oh, you kidder, you couldn’t possibly be 26! You don’t look a day over 8. Gee, this stadium is big, don’t ya think? Well, that’s ok. You can come home with me! You can sleep on the edge of my bed, right next to my cat Mr. Noodles. Do you like kitty cats? Can you spell CAT? Really, oh my what a smart one you are! You are such a sweetie; I must show you to my friends! If you do some tricks for them, I’ll give you a whole shiny quarter. Wouldn’t you like that little guy? You could buy a trading card! Who is your favorite player? Mine is Mark Brunnell. You know, if you eat your vegetables, you could be big and strong like him when you grow up!

Photo Competition and Puerto Rico pictures

2007-08-23T21:32:00.000-04:00

I recently entered a photo of mine in The New York Institute of Photography’s Photo Contest. The theme is “Your Hometown: Local Music.”

I took this photo of a bluegrass street band in Old Town Alexandria. If you like it, please vote for it by clicking on the photo below and then clicking on “Vote!”

I also finally uploaded my Puerto Rico pictures. You can view them here.

Ocean City, Maryland 2007

2007-08-19T21:36:00.000-04:00

Earlier this month I visited my favorite place in the universe, Ocean City.

Some of you may scoff at this. I am well aware that Ocean City is over-commercialized and full of hicks. It's basically a low-class-beach-front Las Vegas, without the gambling, if you are in a hotel near the boardwalk, that is.

My family owns a house in Little Salisbury, the one residential area in the north part of city.

It's the best place on Earth.

You can view the slide show here.

After I Ocean City my brother and I went to Puerto Rico with our mom and step-family. I will post the slide show of that later.

Chicago

2007-08-01T00:56:00.000-04:00

Last weekend I went to Chicago with my family and I took several photos:

You can view the slide show here.

Harry Potter 2007

2007-07-21T13:42:00.000-04:00

Last night I went to the Harry Potter Release party at the Barnes and Noble in Fairfax. I took a whole bunch of pictures with my new camera:

Here is a slideshow.

The Most Important Purchase of My Life

2007-07-18T23:00:00.000-04:00

Recently I made the most important purchase of my life. This seemingly small trinket has already affected my life to a degree that could not have previously fathomed. After I purchased it, I took it home and put it on my shelf and admired it from a distance, as one might admire a sunset or a Picasso in an exclusive art gallery.

This product has inspired me to travel to exotic places, to try new foods and to meet new people. It is my muse, my heart, my everything. It has shed light on my otherwise shadowy disposition. Its importance to me might not be unlike the pen to Hemingway, the bow to Vivaldi, the brush to Dali. It is the tool that will define my artistry, write my history, and sing my music.

Last week, I bought a six ounce stainless steel flask.

I bought it for this booze cruise that I went on with some coworkers last week. The cruise, which took us from Georgetown to Old Town Alexandria, was 45-minutes long and they only served beer and wine. Since I'm try to slim down, I only drink hard liqour, and therefore I needed way to smuggle some aboard. I went to the liqour, purchased this gem along with a bottle of Wild Turkey, and sailed into the sunset (figuratively; the boat sailed southeast).

I'm kidding. Well only half-kidding. I did indeed buy a flask for the booze cruise, but that wasn't my life-changing purchase. This was:

A Canon EOS D350 Digital Rebel XT SLR with an F-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 lens. Unlike the flask, most of the things I mentioned in the first paragraph really do apply. Having a great camera will force me to try new things and go to new places.

Three things inspired me to buy this camera at this point in time:

1) After a six-year hiatus from photography, I finally had the money to buy it.
2) The price. Both the camera and the memory card were on sale.
3) I will be traveling to three different cities next month (Chicago, Ocean City, and San Juan).

There is also one other awesome product that has come into my life:

This, my friends, is a melodica. It sounds a bit like a small accordion, or a concertina. If you really want to know what it sounds like, it is featured in the song Champagne Supernova by Oasis.

I did not purchase this product. It belonged to my cousins, and they are letting me borrow it for an unknown amount of time. For the past year or so, I would play it sporadically, but now that it is in my possession, I play it nearly everyday. My goal is to learn a new song every week or so.

Once the battery on my new camera is charged, I plan to take 1000 pictures of my cat, make a cuteness collage, and post it here. Stay tuned.

My First Business Trip

2007-07-05T22:53:00.000-04:00

My first business trip was to a print site just outside of Rochester, NY, in a town called Henrietta. I spent two horrid weeks there, then I went on to visit friends and family in the rest of the state. Since I didn't bring a camera with me, I had to borrow pictures from the Internet to illustrate my journey.

This is the town of Henrietta, NY:

I was stationed here:

This is what I looked like during my time there, except with more work, and I was slightly more attractive:

This was the one friend I met there:

I also watched quite a bit of HBO in my hotel, and I fell in love with Flight of the Conchords:

I plan to marry the one on the right, then cheat on the one on the right with the one on the left.

Eventually my project was finished, and I went to visit my friend Jay in Ithaca. This is Jay:

He painted his fingernails in honor of my visit.

And this is Ithaca (compared to Henrietta):

This is my friend Jay's favorite band, The Verve:

This was Jay's reaction when he found out that the band was getting back together:

I met some of Jay's friends:

We climbed one of Ithaca's famous gorges:

Then I went to Syracuse to visit my family:

And last but not least, at the airport, an insanely hot guy sat next to me on the shuttle bus:

Fin.

My extremely intensive and extensive review of Pirates of the Caribbean 3

2007-05-31T23:28:00.000-04:00

Orlando Bloom is hotter than Johnny Depp. There, I said it. I feel so much better now.

Grade: F-

The Silent but Deadly Epidemic

2007-05-01T22:22:00.000-04:00

A few years ago I lived with some friends in a rented townhouse. We ran an independent newspaper together. At least once a week we would get drunk and try to brainstorm ideas for the paper.

On one of these evenings, my roommate Oliver and I decided to make a beer and snacks run at the local 7-11. As per usual, we were goofing off in the store, cracking bad jokes and the like. We started browsing through the snack cake section. I turned towards Oliver to crack a joke about extra-long Ho-Hos, but before I could speak, he let out a gasp and his eyes widened with amazement. I knew he had just seen something astonishing. I looked towards the entrance to see if that was the source of the amazement. Nothing. I looked towards the cashier. Again, nothing. I looked back at Oliver, who was still catatonic with bewilderment. I looked down at the assortment of snack cakes before us.

Prominently displayed next to the powdered sugar donuts was a close-up of an extra-large, gaping, asshole. It looked like it had not been cleansed in the better part of this decade. The asshairs, which were easily visible due to the spread eagle nature of the photograph, were thick and matted. The strawberry-blond color of the asshairs made us very suspicious of the rose-Aryan cashier.

As a poetic cu-de-tat, the rim of the asshole was coated in a white powdery substance, not unlike condensed sugar. I looked from the photo towards the neighboring powdered donuts, and was amazed by the resemblance. My appetite for snack cakes had now dwindled, and I headed towards the Slim Jims.

We made our purchases and exited the store. We walked slowly to the car, pondering what we had just witnessed. Who was this person, and what possessed him (or quite possibly, her) to flaunt their bung in the snack cakes section? Did they wakeup and say “Yep! Today’s the day!”

Oliver insisted that the cashier was the asshole assailant. We turned back to the automatic glass doors. We gave him the stink eye, just as he had allegedly given us moments earlier.

Little did we know that we were at the forefront of an epidemic…

I was surfing some Internet forums the other day, and I stumbled upon this post.

It seems Oliver and I are not the only victims of this hanus act (misspelling intended).

Only one question remains:

Which one of you will be next victim of the bunghole bandit?

Possible Secondary Tragedies

2007-04-18T14:39:00.000-04:00

It hasn't been the best week, to say the least. I'm not going to get supergushy on this blog and unload about my sympathy for the VT victim's families, which is in abundance. I will say that my brother (a senior at VT) is fine. As much as my heart swells with sympathy for others, it is equally filled with gratitude for my brother's wellbeing.

But that is not what this blog entry is about. The one thing that has hit a bad note with me has been the constant mention of Asian-American people, specifically Koreans, fearing backlash because the perpetrator was Korean. I can't be help that no one would have ever thought to attack Asian-Americans had the media not called specific attention to the perpetrator's race. During the Columbine Massacre, I don't believe Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold's races were ever in the spotlight. Neither were their sexes, eye/hair colors, religions, or sexual orientations. No media corporation reported "White Males Fearing Backlash."

These incidents are completely separate from race. All races are capable of extreme acts of hate.

Finally, let us not forget the victims. Let us not forget Mary Read, the half-Korean "fun-loving 19-year-old" from Annandale, VA, or Henry Lee, the Chinese-American computer engineering student. If one were to attack Asian-Americans because of the perpetrator’s race, they would be attacking the Mary Read’s and Henry Lee’s families. If one were to blindly lash out at Asian-Americans because of this tragedy, they would do nothing more then dishonor the victim's memories, and add a bigger load to their families' already unbearable burden.

Awesomeness

2007-04-10T23:18:00.000-04:00

The Onion has started distributing paper isues at metro stations in DC. It's about loving time. I've been driving to work in the past couple days. Driving is convenient, but it is more costly and it doesn't get me any exercise. Now that The Onion is now at my metro station, I now have more incentive to ride my bike to the blue line in the morning.

I really shouldn't be so excited about this.

The Perfect Movies List

2007-04-04T21:17:00.000-04:00

This list could also be called "The Best Movies You've Never Seen" as all of them were probably considered box office bombs. But there are hundreds of "Best Movies That Did Shitty Opening Weekend" lists. There are very few "Perfect Movie" lists.

What do I mean by "Perfect Movies" you ask? Well, I mean several things. A perfect movie fully satisfies all the desires that lie buried within the human psyche. They execute situations of love, action, suspense, hate, and melancholy with flawless precision, animated wit, and supreme genuineness.

Watching a perfect movie is a sublime encounter. You feel like a better person for partaking in a perfect movie. The movie adds to your bank of experience. It gives more than it could possibly take. The time spent watching a perfect movie is productive time. Just by watching a perfect movie, you feel like you've molded the movie around your own personality. You leave the experience and step back, much like an artist stepping back from a canvas to reflect on her work. The perfect movie becomes your own art.

Here is my short list. There are definetly more than what is on this list.

1) Wonder Boys- Sometimes it is difficult to distill the essence of a movie, because it lives in the mind. Not really, that previous sentence was a quote from the film. This movie is about a writer, Grady Tripp, who is suffering from the opposite of writer's block. Though he has no problem getting words on to the page, his anti-writer's block is just as imposing. His neverending opus is impedeing on his success as a writer, being that it is preventing him from publishing his followup novel. During the course of a weekend, his wife leaves him, his editor shows up asking about the book, his on-the-side girlfriend drops a metaphorical bomb on him, and in the meantime, one of his troubled students has been following him on this wild ride of a weekend. It's sentimental and witty without sapiness or self-indulgence. The movie is about self-discovery, love, lust, drugs, passion, drugs, alcohol, writing, booze, pills, and dead dogs. What more could anyone want?

2) Joe Versus The Volcano- Not many people seem to like this film. But I have a theory about this. You know how sometimes you will have very fond memories of a certain movie or tv show, and when you revisited it later in life, you realized how stupid it really was? I think the opposite is going on here. This movie came out when most of my contemporaries were in grade school, so a lot of the complexities of this detailed cinematic manifesto may have been lost on them. The same thing happened to me when I saw The Big Lebowski the first time. I thought it was stupid, raunchy and juvenile. Now it is one of my favorite films. This movie is more literary than it appears upon first glance. There are several underlying themes and subtle nuances that weave this story into an amazingly epic tapestry of a film. If you ever rent this movie, plan this fun little drinking game:
Take a drink everytime you see the "lightning" symbol. You will find yourself more than tipsy by the end of the film. Bonus drinking if you hear a reference to the symbol.

3) Donnie Darko- Everyone should have seen this movie by now. If you haven't, crawl out from under your rock and Netflix it.

4) The Big Lebowski- See above. I have only one thing to say about this film. A lot of people have said that this is a purely masculine film. Anyone who says that has clearly overlooked the hard feminity of the female lead, Maude Lebowski. She is womanly but strong. A perfect ideal of a woman.

My extremely intensive and extensive review of 300

2007-03-13T16:56:00.000-04:00

It was HOT. The extremely well built men were 3/4 nakey the whole time! The story telling was lame, the effects were good. But the men were HOTTTTTTTTTTT!

Lots of gory violence as well. It had as many beheading scenes as Sin City had castration scenes.

It was all around delicious.

New Apartment

2007-03-05T22:47:00.000-05:00

I have finally moved into my new apartment. Not only that, I've almost settled in. Just a few things remain:

-I need to get and rf modulator for my tv
-I need to get cable Internet

For a solid week I did not have a tv, so I relied heavily on radio, dvds on my laptop, and books to keep my sanity.

Right now I'm sitting in a trendy coffee shop just a block away from my new place. This place has free Wi-Fi, which is awesome, being that I have no Internet at home.

So far everything has been great at my new place. It's quiet, clean and in a good location. It has a gym, bike room and laundry on site.

I will post pictures once I take them and then find a stable Internet connection.

On Friday I will be picking up a bike from my mom's house, then, weather permitting, I will explore the town.

Another "Best Of Expulsion" Article

2007-02-15T12:21:00.000-05:00

Expulsion Exclusive!: Bush’s
Rough Draft of RNC Speech

Thanks to the heroic efforts of Expulsion’s own team of undercover spies, we have obtained a rare first draft of George W. Bush’s Speech at the Republican National Convention. Many thanks to those who lost their lives for this historic document.

My Speech for the Republikaan Nashunal Convenshun

My name is George Dubl U Bush. My mommy
sayz I should run for Prezadent agin. She sayz
I.m the coolest boy in the Whit Horse. I wuld
make a good prezadent agin cause I gave lots
of monies to all my friends. If I am eleckted
prezadent agin, I will give more monies to my
friends. If I am prezadent I will not alow homor
homer homosech Gaywads to get married. My
friend, Mr. Cheney, sayz I should get reeelekted
cause Mr. John Kerry is an fword-ing butthole. Mr.
Cheney also say that Mr. Kerry is a small cat. He
uses another word for small cat, but mommy
sayz that I shouldn.t say it. I think Mr. Kerry.s nose
loks like a giant peepee, and his cheeks look like
droopy balls.
I like playing war a lot. We should get into
more wars with the terororists. Terororists are
scary brown men with Weapons of Mass
Destrukshun. Did I say Weapons? I mean Programs
for WMDs. Did I say programs? I mean
plans for programs of WMDs. Besides, a terororist
with a slingshot is still a terororist, and I say we
should see their slingshots with rocket launchers. I like rocket launchers.
I also like horses and frogs and I hate it when Mommy and Daddy fight.
But I also like starting fights with the smelly brown people. It makes me
feel big, like He-Man. When I grow up I want to be He-man, or possibly a
CHoo-Choo train. When I am a choo-choo train, I will drive all the way to
the middle east and run over osama bin laden. Then I will take his snack
pack money.
I think i will make a great prezadent because i am good speaker
and i like blowing things up. Prezadents have to like blowing things up,
cause that is their job. If you make me prezadent, I will make sure that
tatter tots are served every friday, and that their will be a bigger hot
tub in every millionaire's bathroom. Thank you.

Memories

2007-02-12T20:31:00.000-05:00

I've decided to post some of the articles that I wrote as Humor Editor for Expulsion, GMU's only independent newspaper, for two reasons: 1) I don't have time to write a full entry, and 2) the Expulsion website will probably close down, so I want to post them here so I have access to them.

So the next couple entries will probably just be my Expulsion greatest hits.

This article was published in October 2005, in a special bizarro world edition of Expulsion:

Bruce Campbell Wins His 12th Academy Award

This year’s Academy Awards had moments of grandeur, surprise and awe. The red carpet was a sea of glitter, glam and breathtaking beauty. However, none of us were stunned when Bruce Campbell walked away with three academy awards, making a grand total of twelve Oscars within the past ten years. With grace and charm that can rival no other, Campbell was able to thank all 43 members of his family, 37 of his closest friends, and give three shout outs to Buddha, Jesus, and some guy named Bob in all three of his acceptance speeches.

Bruce Campbell’s career started with a major bang when he starred in the international blockbusters Evil Dead, Evil Dead 2, and Army of Darkness. His role as Ash in all three of these movies earned him three separate best actor nominations and two wins. Several Hollywood elitists agree that Campbell was robbed of the Oscar for Army of Darkness, and most say it was because the movie hinted at some sort of massive monarchial conspiracy to end capitalism.

Campbell went on to conquer Hollywood for the next eight years, snagging at least one Oscar every year. After the Evil Dead films, his next project entitled “Zombies Ate My Brain” snagged him another leading role Oscar. The year following he nabbed another leading role Oscar for his portrayal of Harvey P. Knockers in the internationally acclaimed epic “When Harvey met Some Zombies.”

With all this Oscar action, Campbell still has not met the record for most Academy Awards won by one person, a record which is still held by the late Walt Disney at 487. However, Campbell broke the record this year for most Best Actor Oscars received by a single man. During the 78th Academy Awards, Campbell nabbed two Oscars for starring and directing his tour-de-force “Leaves of Grass: A Zombie Killer’s Tale.” Additionally, he also nabbed a best actor award for his portrayal of Johnny, the deaf, blind and mildly autistic hero in “Zombies Attack Johnny: the Deaf, Blind and Mildly Autistic Hero.”

“This is so unexpected,” said Campbell as he accepted his last award of the evening. “I only prepared two speeches. Well I guess I will have to thank Sam Raimi’s money, Sam Raimi’s popularity, and last, but not least, God.”

Smorgasbord

2007-02-06T20:13:00.000-05:00

Way too much has been going on.

I look at my life as a long list of to-dos. Some of the to-dos are really banal, like filing taxes. Some are more exciting, like planning for trips. My next trip is going to be to New York City on President's Day Weekend. It will be a trip on behalf of my cousin's 16th birthday. We will go shopping, walk around Central Park, go to the museums, and, as a special gift, I got us tickets to this:

On Broadway, no less. I got the tickets for amazingly cheap. It is a matinee, though.

My next big trip will be Puerto Rico in August. Eventually I will go somewhere less commonplace, like the Galapagos Islands. Perhaps hiking in New Zealand. Anything is possible.

Pan's Labyrinth

2007-01-14T21:58:00.000-05:00

I went to this movie expecting a slightly dark fantasy flick. You know, like The Neverending Story meets The Dark Crystal. What I got was Irreversible. I have seen snuff films with less violence.

The movie takes place in 1944 in fascist Spain. The movie's main character, an imaginative little girl named Ofelia, is the step-daughter of a very cruel army captain. The movie starts with Ofelia and her pregnant mother moving onto the Captain's post, which is located in a dreamy, unnamed, deciduous forest in the Spanish countryside. While wandering in the forest, Ofelia encounters a fairy, who leads her into a fantastic world of faun's, ogres, and secrets. In between Ofelia's encounters with the fantasy world (which are surprisingly few and far between) her mother is falling ill, and her mercilessly cruel stepfather is trying to quash the guerrilla warfare in the countryside by using the most brutal of practices.

I walked out of the theatre thinking I had just seen one and half movies. The stepfather gets more screen-time than the main character, and almost all of his scenes involve intense violence. This movie focused more on the harshness of warfare rather than cherishing of wonderment. I felt like I saw a whole war movie, than half of a dark fantasy movie.

I guess the key to enjoying this movie is knowing what to expect. It is well written, directed, and had excellent acting. However, it is more of a war movie than a fantasy film. It is not, repeat NOT, a film for kids. In fact, anyone, at any age, who has a weak stomach should stay away from this film. But if you like good film-making, and you don't cringe at violence not unlike the worst scenes from Saw, then knock yourself out. Oh, and surprisingly, most people where unaware that the movie foreign, so it has subtitles. Now you know.

Happy n00b Year

2007-01-01T17:00:00.000-05:00

One of my promises to myself is to keep up with my writing. That means actually paying attention to this thing. It’s 5 P.M. on New Year’s Day, and I’m still in my pjs. I’ve spent most of the day watching the DVDs that I got for Christmas. The holidays were great, as usual. Here some of the stuff I hauled in:

This was one of my family's favorite shows. It appealed to everyone in our family.

Josh got this for me. I asked for it specifically. I made the most delicious sweet and sour meat balls with it.

Of course.

Another gift from Josh. My old one had a couple different species of mold.

A sappy but hilarious show.

Naturally.

I’ve got about 100 hours of DVD watching to catch up on.

I’m planning on moving in a month and I haven’t even found a place. I’m not that worried though because I know deep down I won’t be homeless.

I saw my best friend Oliver over the weekend. He invited me to this family party at his parents’ house. His sister just had her first baby, and this party was sort of like a big baby unveiling. His sister’s friends brought over their babies as well, and at one point we had a baby pile. It was a little mountain of adorable. Then they all started crying, kind of how neighborhood dogs set each other off. I was then reminded of how quiet (and equally adorable) cats are.

As far as 2006 is concerned, it was a year that evened itself out. The first half of the year wasn’t that great. My best friend left town, I couldn’t find a job, and my current job was getting on my nerves. But then I got a new job, and I’m still in touch with him. I feel like this year is the first year for the rest of my life. Or some such bullshit.

New Job Photos

2006-11-30T19:32:00.000-05:00

Hello my fans! I know you have been eagerly awaiting my latest entry regarding my new job. It's going really well, and I wanted to share some photos with you.

This is my office. There are many like it, but this one is mine. Actually, it may be one of the smallest shared offices in the building.

This is my officemate Aaron. He is hard at work. Just look at those neck muscles bulge!

This is Larkin. She used to have my job, but she got promoted. She's been training me and she's very nice. She also has the nicest computer screen on our floor.

This is the outside of my building. Sometimes a homeless guy will camp out near the entrance. He has an interesting personality quirk: he likes to piss into a clear plastic Starbucks cup, then display it on the sidewalk like it's street art.

This is the entrance to Washington Harbor, a premiere waterfront venue with excellent restaurants and bars. It's about a 30-second walk from my building. When you are in the harbor, you have a perfect view of the Watergate and the Kennedy Center. I was too lazy to walk all the way down there to snap a photo.

This is the famous C & O Canal. This particular part is about a block from my building, and it's also a popular lunch spot. Sometimes, when I get to work early, I take a nice leisurely morning stroll along the Canal.

This is Georgetown, arguably the best shopping and dining area in DC. It's actually way cooler in real life, this is just a crappy photograph.

This is a restaurant that my cousin's friend supposedly owns. I took this picture for her.

GO SKINS!!

This is an antique store on M street. I don't know the name of it, I just took a picture because it looked pretty.

This is Bridge Street Books, a cheap bookstore. A lot of the books on that table are 4 dollars or less.

For those of you who were wondering "Golly, where is Heather going to get her Raspberry Snapple fix?"

THEY SELL IT EVERYWHERE HERE!!

Finally, this is how I feel about my new job:

Nothing But Blue Skies

2006-11-14T22:22:00.000-05:00

Just a quick update.

My new job is going great. I feel like my foot is firmly implanted within the door to my career.

Once I remember to bring a digital camera into the office, I will post pictures of my new digs.

Tomorrow I'm having lunch with my mother at Sequoia, which is right next to my new office. I'm so excited!

LIFE!

2006-10-19T23:12:00.000-04:00

I promised myself I wouldn't be one of those people that starts a blog, keeps it up for a few months, then abandons it all together. I ended up doing that with my trivia blog, but I will try not to do it with this one.

My main reason for updating is thus:

I GOT A NEW JOB.

It's exactly the job I've been looking for and I couldn't be happier. My next step is to find a moderately-priced apartment in the city. Then all will be well.

In other news, the doctor has told me I have screwy cholesterol, so I've had to change my diet. I don't eat much red meat, so my biggest problem is dairy. I will miss it. I also have to start exercising more. However, this won't be as drastic a change as I will have to walk a mile each way between my new job location and the metro.

The day after I took the job offer, I realized just how much of my life had been devoted to finding a new job these past couple months. I woke up the day after and realized that I could take my shower earlier because I didn't have to spend my allotted 20 minutes on craigslist. I got home, went to my computer, stared at it realizing I didn't need to spend the evening on washingtonjobs or careerbuilder (I made myself apply for at least one job every day). I now have much more time to devote to my hobbies. Eventually I will buy a microphone and complete my New York Interactive essay.

This weekend I will be spending my newly gained free time reading, shopping, cleaning, and musing over my new life ahead of me.

Life

2006-09-20T23:43:00.000-04:00

I apologize for the uncreative title, but it actually perfectly sums up the theme of this entry.

I would like to say that I've found a fantastic new job and beautiful new apartment in the city. Sadly, I have found neither thus far.

A couple weeks ago I went camping with some friends. It had been the first time I had camped since I was about 9 years old. I like almost everything about camping. I love the outdoors. I love sitting around campfires with friends. However, I cannot handle sleeping with other people. I mean actually sleeping. Not only am I a little sensitive to sound, but I also need room to spread out a bit. I got about 2 hours of sleep that night.

The next day we decided to go for a high-grade hike. I'm in horrible shape, so I stopped in the middle of it. I climbed back down and decided to do a lower-grade hike on my own. I'm a bit of a geology nerd, so I decided to look for rocks, or as I like to call them, treasure. I didn't find anything particularly noteworthy, but the forest was quite beautiful. I felt very tranquil.

Last Saturday was Josh's birthday, so I took him out to dinner. We went to P.F. Chang's, which wasn't that good. The service was nice, however. Unfortunately, Josh had come down with a sinus infection. I ended up catching that infection, and I had to take Monday off as a sick day.

Work is having mandatory overtime hours this week, which has put a hindrance on my job search. To help keep my morale up, I spend most of the day listening to The Ricky Gervais Show Podcast. In case you don't know who he is, Ricky Gervais was the star of "The Office" in the original UK series. He also co-wrote and co-directed the series with his writing partner, Stephen Merchant, who also appears on the podcast. Most of the podcast consists of Ricky and Steve brow-beating the lazy-minded Karl Pilkington, the podcast's third member.

This podcast is fucking hilarious, even if it does cost two dollars an episode. I especially love it when Stephen Merchant tells his tales about his failings with females.

Finally, to keep myself from getting depressed, I have been writing fiction lately. I wrote a story based off a writing prompt from a magazine. The prompt was "A lawyer discovers that his client is guilty of the horrible crime for which he was just found innocent."

Unfortunately, I think the person who wrote this was not fully educated on our legal system. Attorney-client privilege usually prevents this situation from happening. Therefore, it was and extra hard story for me to work out. I may post it later, after I do some thorough editing.

On the Border Off the Mark

2006-09-08T15:54:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I had the strangest craving. I desperately craved empanadas, the Spanish pastry. However, this was quite odd as I had never had an empanada before. My coworker had eaten one weeks back, and it smelled delicious. A couple days after, I looked up empanadas on Wikipedia and found out that there are several varieties, most of which sounded tasty.

So fast-forward to yesterday, I'm absolutely famished. The nearest place that served empanadas was On the Border in Tyson's Corner, so we decided to go there. Many of my coworkers disapproved as they had all had bad experiences there. But my craving won out. I sat back and thought of a Mexican version of a samosa, and my mouth watered. I told Josh to meet me at the restaurant.

I should have listened to my coworkers.

The restaurant was really loud, so naturally, they got Josh's order wrong. Unfortunately, the empanadas were subpar. Also, our waiter had the most disturbingly prominent unibrow I'd ever seen. It looked like he had a fake mustache on his forehead. I'm not saying someone's facial appearance really affects performance, but it did affect my meal a bit. I inspected every bite of my black beans for fake mustache fibers.

Book Bash

2006-09-08T00:13:00.000-04:00

About a week ago I finally finished American Gods by Neil Gaiman. It took me the better part of the summer to finish it. I found it very unimpressive, dreary, and unreactive. The story is about a man named Shadow who, after being released from prison, gets recruited by a mysterious man named Wednesday for an even more mysterious assignment. It turns out that Wednesday is involved in an underground network of familiar but forgotten characters: gods. As it turns out, all the gods that mankind created are real, and they feed on faith. Naturally, some of them are old and weak. But Wednesday predicts that a major change is on the way, and he needs Shadow to help set his plan in motion.

I found the main character, Shadow, very hard to identify with due to his unquestioning, therefore dull, personality. When he sees the fantastic acts that some of these gods perform, he is not overtly impressed or astounded. In fact, for most of the book his character takes everything at face value. At one point a woman changes the moon into a coin, and Shadow is no more reactive than if she pulled the coin it out of her wallet.

Because Shadow's character is so static, the story, the strife, becomes either passionless or non-existent. I felt like the whole book was told from the perspective of a robot.

Reading Wonder Boys has been a delightful departure from American Gods. I bought the book about a two years ago after seeing the first half of the movie. A week after buying it, the new David Sedaris book came out. Wonder Boys was set aside, until now. The first time I picked it up I was disengaged, but now I can't put it down. I am halfway done, and I'm utterly enthralled with it. Perhaps it is because I miss the University atmosphere. Perhaps it is because I, like the main character Grady Trip, have also reached a creative crux. I'm having no trouble identifying with this character. He has a depth that is vast yet penetrable. The book is also fucking hilarious.

In short, if I were a big sci-fi fan who didn't care at all about character development, I would have enjoyed American Gods. I also would have finished it a lot quicker.

But since I do care about character development, I am in love with Wonder Boys. I'm going through it four times as fast as American Gods. When I finish, I will rewatch the movie. To the best of my recollection, the parts I watched were quite good.

Lunch Time

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

I woke up on Saturday with an intense pain on my left elbow. The skin felt warm and raw, as if I had slept on a patch of sandpaper. I really didn't think much of it. Many cat owners may relate to this: I often wake up with mysterious scratches and my toes feeling raw from over-licking.

I went about my business normally. I showered, dressed and went to the store. As I was loading the groceries into my trunk, my elbow hit the side of the cart. I froze with pain, trying not to scream bloody murder. A little tear formed in the corner of my eye. My inner monologue was talking in elongated vowels. The pain was no longer like a rash. It was very small, localized, atomic bomb explosion of pain.

The pain eventually subsided, and I returned home. I put away the groceries, then I got back in my car and headed towards my aunt's house. I was due to spend the rest of the day with my cousin, Kimberly. We spent a few hours in the mall, then we decided to go see the Illusionist. We arrived at the theatre too late for our intended showing, and the next one wasn't for an hour and a half. We bought tickets to the later showing and decided to spend the remaining time in Barnes and Noble.

At Barnes and Noble, we looked for books to read to pass the time. Kimmy picked a book that was next in a series of books she was reading. It was something like a later teens version of The Babysitters Club. I found the book that I had been working at home, found the page that I had left off last night, and looked for one of the big broken-in chairs that speckled the bookstore. My cousin and I found two empty ones right next to one another. When I sat down my elbow brushed the arm of the chair. The localized erupting pain returned again. My inner monologue was more like a dialogue of two competing words: "SHIIIIIIIIIT" and "FUUUUUCK."

I manage to calm myself, and the pain somewhat subsided again. After an hour we left the bookstore and I decided to investigate what the hell was going on with my elbow. I got in my car and turned on the interior light. I pointed my elbow towards the rear-view mirror. The reflection astounded me. Sitting on the very edge of my elbow was a shiny, massive pimple. The mound was about the length of a dime in diameter. However, the whitehead atop it was rather small. It looked like a giant red boob with a tiny white nipple was growing from my arm.

I searched my car for anything that might dull the pain. I found some Burt's Bees hand salve, and decided that it was my best (and only) route. I spread it on the area, hoping it would not only soothe the redness, but also protect the area from further damage. The rest of the night I nursed my elbow. I mentally constructed a protective bubble around it, avoiding anything that may harm it. It was as if I had lost all use of my left arm. Through all this pain and prevention, I was not prepared for what I would view the next day.

I tried with great diligence to ignore the inflamed tit that was protruding from my arm. Around 7 PM, I couldn't take the pain any longer. I went into the bathroom and aimed my elbow at the mirror yet again. I nearly vomited at what I saw.

While the mound had stayed the same size, the head had grown to thrice its size. What was once a tiny breast now looked more like white-pupiled eyeball spring forth from my flesh. I felt that if I let it stay there any longer, it would start winking at me. It had to die.

I covered the area with a slathering of Neosporin. I then began to put pressure on both sides of the monster. It wouldn't give. After about five minutes or so of pushing I came to a horrid realization. The only way this thing would give would be by needle point.

My boyfriend fetched me a thumbtack, which I sterilized by running under hot water. I very gently felt my way around the area, familiarizing myself with it. I found the central point, aimed the needle and applied the slightest bit of pressure. The zit gave like a balloon filled too much milk. I envisioned Medusa breastfeeding her demon spawn. The pimple gave with no pain and minimal coercion from the needle. I absorbed the lacteous ooze with a Wet Wipe. I again slathered the crater with Neosporin. To help with the swelling, I covered the area in toothpaste and then took an Advil. Finally, I covered the area with a band aid.

Now it is the next day, and I'm grateful to have full motion back in my left arm. I am able to carelessly sit in my armchair and surf the Internet. Never shall I forget the day that my elbow was seized by a ravenous, boil-like mound of evil. If you ever wonder what it feels like, try rubbing your elbow raw with a sander, then casually lie it on a bed of magma-hot nails.

2006-08-31T01:25:00.000-04:00

Burpday

This is the video I made for my brother for his 21st birthday. It showcases his many talents.

A New Hobby

2006-08-25T01:04:00.000-04:00

Lots and lots of stuff has been going on lately. I have so many loose ends to tie up. Things should calm down once the semester starts and everyone goes back to school.

I will be posting another video soon. I cannot post it now because I do not want certain people to see it until after Saturday. I'm having a big unveiling for it at a party. I think it may be my greatest achievement yet.

Until then, I leave you with this:

2006-08-16T23:48:00.000-04:00

Ocean City 2005

When I was uploading the video from my recent vacation, I found a way to make a music video quickly.

So I finally got around to making a music video from last year's vacation video. Here is the result.

You may be wondering about the dance my cousin Brad (or rather, just his hips) is doing throughout the video. It's an imitation of the dancing technique by our other cousin Marco, whose sexuality is in question.

Estrangers

2006-08-12T13:06:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was a very weirdly melancholy day. On my way to work I got stuck behind a hearse in a funeral procession. On the same route there was a dumptruck who cut me off. Before I could exclaim any expletives, I noticed that there was a vintage Winnie-The-Pooh bear tied to the back gate of the truck. I can't for the life of me fathom why anyone would tie such a precious object to the back of a dumptruck. It made me think of the first stuffed animal I had; a cat avante-gardely named "Cat."

Then, I didn't think of lost childhood or dwell on the emotional emptiness of adulthood. It started to rain, and I thought of how that stuffed bear's intrinsic ebay value is just plummeting.

So much for avoiding disillusionment.

Many Manifestos

Fuck SOPA

New American Fare

A Phone Conversation between Two CERN Scientists

Game of Thrones Drinking Game for Drinking Gamers

Dear You Giant C-Word

Breast Cancer Slacktivism

Springtime! Blossoming Bosoms Abound!

45 Priceless Lifehacks

New Blog Started

A Sneak Peak Into What I Do With my Spare Time

Stupidity is a Lifestyle Choice

Supreme Extremes

Flibberty Jibbit Jamboree: SUPERSIZED EDITION

Rejection Collection

How to Deal with Humans

Because it had to be done...

Third Installment of Flibberty Jibbit Jamboree

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Some Visitors

Second Installment of Flibberty Jibbit Jamboree

A Funny Thing Happened Today

Convalescing, Or The Beginning of the End

Sticky Comics

My First try at a Webcomic

A Small List of Big Things

To Hell with Cancer

The Drafter of Laughter

Someone Broke Into My Apartment Last Night

The True Story I Made Up About Clementines

A Text Conversation With A Secret Admirer

My Extremely Extensive and Intensive Review of New Moon

A Project

A Postcard from My Head Hair to My Leg Hair

Juggling Acorns and Rainbows

Well Fuck

Quotes from the Journey

A Deeply Philosophical Rant

My Extremely Extensive and Intensive Review of Star Trek

Technology: The Future is *ERROR*

Catch up on the F*&%ing Old, Looking Forward to Sh*tty the New

NaNoWriMo Begins

The Purging

Not Dead, Just Sleeping

I HAVE A FAN!

My extremely intensive and extensive review of Indiana Jones 4

Pissing In The Woods

How to Throw a Kick-Ass Make-up Bachelorette Party

Budapest

With Sincere Regards

Diddlefest '08

My New Boyfriend

This is my holiday card

Parts

I Don't Normally Post Internet Quiz Results...

Watching

The Ravages of Time

Utica Wedding

Another Expulsion Article

Photo Competition and Puerto Rico pictures

Ocean City, Maryland 2007

Chicago

Harry Potter 2007

The Most Important Purchase of My Life

My First Business Trip

My extremely intensive and extensive review of Pirates of the Caribbean 3

The Silent but Deadly Epidemic

Possible Secondary Tragedies

Awesomeness

The Perfect Movies List

My extremely intensive and extensive review of 300

New Apartment

Another "Best Of Expulsion" Article

Memories

Smorgasbord

Pan's Labyrinth

Happy n00b Year

New Job Photos

Nothing But Blue Skies

LIFE!

Technology: The Future is ERROR

Catch up on the F&%ing Old, Looking Forward to Shtty the New