This just in: you are no longer required to enter your email address or web address in the comments. The space is still there, but it will let you post if you don't put it in there.
I did that for you, Katrina. So, comment away sister! ;-)
Sunday, November 30, 2003
Interesting things you learn from the net...
Perhaps Madonna has an affliction that is causing her to have a British accent, even though she is from Queens or something. Like the woman in this story who apparently developed a British accent after having a stroke. I suppose there are bloody worse things that can happen, eh chum?
Your brain is more active sleeping than it is watching TV. I learned this while taking an IQ test. I have to believe though that if you take the IQ test enough times that it ceases to be a true indicator of your actual IQ and really just how well you remember the patters from IQ tests. It's a memory test. My IQ is 138, in case you cared.
I'm going to inactivate my brain now and set up my Christmas tree. For those of you who remember from last year, this is not one of my favorite things in life to do. But, there's a hierarchy of my dreaded chores and this currently beats folding laundry and ironing the shirt I'm thinking about wearing tomorrow.
Christmas Wish List # 357: A MAID!
Perhaps Madonna has an affliction that is causing her to have a British accent, even though she is from Queens or something. Like the woman in this story who apparently developed a British accent after having a stroke. I suppose there are bloody worse things that can happen, eh chum?
Your brain is more active sleeping than it is watching TV. I learned this while taking an IQ test. I have to believe though that if you take the IQ test enough times that it ceases to be a true indicator of your actual IQ and really just how well you remember the patters from IQ tests. It's a memory test. My IQ is 138, in case you cared.
I'm going to inactivate my brain now and set up my Christmas tree. For those of you who remember from last year, this is not one of my favorite things in life to do. But, there's a hierarchy of my dreaded chores and this currently beats folding laundry and ironing the shirt I'm thinking about wearing tomorrow.
Christmas Wish List # 357: A MAID!
Saturday, November 29, 2003
Absence makes the heart grow... neurotic?
-for HP2
My dear friend HP2 (who really needs to come out of the closet and get a name, though it's kind of fun to call her HP2 because by default that means I'm HP*1*!) shares many of my love hang-ups. In fact, she's the main reason I survive most of my love crises, because she's so much like me that she makes me feel less kookie. After all, how kookie can I be if someone else is like me too??
She was separated from her boyfriend for the last week and it caused her no small amount of strife because of their minimal contact. It was my turn to be in the reassuring role this time by advising her that "love makes the heart grow fonder" is indeed crap and in all reality, absence makes the heart grow more neurotic.
Some of my own reactions when separated for more than a little while from my beloved... I will frequently check my cell phone to see if there are any messages. When there are no messages, I think that he must have left messages for me on my HOME phone. I check that too. No messges there, either. Well, it MUST be because he was planning to send me endearing emails in our absence. Nope. No emails either. By now, I'm completely overwrought. It's next to impossible not to get in touch in this day of extreme communication, so what can the answer be?
CARRIER PIGEON! I scan the skies for birds carrying messages of devotion with little capsules of the tears he's shedding from not being with me.
No birds anywhere.
Frankly, by now I'm so annoyed that I don't even miss him because I'm just angry that he doesn't miss me as much as I miss him. He probably has the NERVE to be out having a good time while we're apart. I mean, yeah -- I'm out doing stuff and having fun, but I'm talking about him while I'm doing it! And he can't even send a carrier pigeon, for pity's sake.
Of course, inevitably he will call in a perfectly normal amount of time but I'm so underwhelmed by the dearth of previous contacts that it takes me a minute to realize that the one thing I was pining and hoping for is finally happening. I'm snippy and non-committal. He's left wondering why he bothered to call.
It's an ugly circle and there's really no easy way to get around it. After all, if we didn't have our time apart we couldn't better appreciate our time together, right?
Of course, the neuroses kind of create the need for separation but really, how can you say if it's the chicken or the egg really?
-for HP2
My dear friend HP2 (who really needs to come out of the closet and get a name, though it's kind of fun to call her HP2 because by default that means I'm HP*1*!) shares many of my love hang-ups. In fact, she's the main reason I survive most of my love crises, because she's so much like me that she makes me feel less kookie. After all, how kookie can I be if someone else is like me too??
She was separated from her boyfriend for the last week and it caused her no small amount of strife because of their minimal contact. It was my turn to be in the reassuring role this time by advising her that "love makes the heart grow fonder" is indeed crap and in all reality, absence makes the heart grow more neurotic.
Some of my own reactions when separated for more than a little while from my beloved... I will frequently check my cell phone to see if there are any messages. When there are no messages, I think that he must have left messages for me on my HOME phone. I check that too. No messges there, either. Well, it MUST be because he was planning to send me endearing emails in our absence. Nope. No emails either. By now, I'm completely overwrought. It's next to impossible not to get in touch in this day of extreme communication, so what can the answer be?
CARRIER PIGEON! I scan the skies for birds carrying messages of devotion with little capsules of the tears he's shedding from not being with me.
No birds anywhere.
Frankly, by now I'm so annoyed that I don't even miss him because I'm just angry that he doesn't miss me as much as I miss him. He probably has the NERVE to be out having a good time while we're apart. I mean, yeah -- I'm out doing stuff and having fun, but I'm talking about him while I'm doing it! And he can't even send a carrier pigeon, for pity's sake.
Of course, inevitably he will call in a perfectly normal amount of time but I'm so underwhelmed by the dearth of previous contacts that it takes me a minute to realize that the one thing I was pining and hoping for is finally happening. I'm snippy and non-committal. He's left wondering why he bothered to call.
It's an ugly circle and there's really no easy way to get around it. After all, if we didn't have our time apart we couldn't better appreciate our time together, right?
Of course, the neuroses kind of create the need for separation but really, how can you say if it's the chicken or the egg really?
You have been warned
My boyfriend does not have a sense of humor that meshes with that of many of my close friends. I accept that because, well, I think he's funny and he DEFINITELY thinks he's funny and so we have that in common and it works.
I would consider that a disclaimer for the story that I'm going to share and if you are one of those people who fall into that category you may want to just skip this one...
Last night we're getting ready to head out of the house to meet his friend for dinner and I ask him if he has anything resembling breath freshener... He mumbles something from another room that sounds mildly naughty and I ignore it and repeat my question. That's when I hear him say that he has half a cock.
Half a cock? This is disturbing. What happened to the other half? And which half are we talking about? And HOW is that going to improve my breath? Is the other half a whitener??
Turns out he said hot white cock. I'm not sure that this was a better answer, frankly. Despite his belief to the contrary, there's nothing breath-freshening about that! He proceeded to sprinkle the word throughout the rest of the evening, singing along with songs on the radio and changing their lyrics to suit his hot white cock theme.
And it was pretty funny, actually. But, it did help me clarify why not all of my friends think he's as funny as I do. Cock just isn't funny to everyone who isn't in the 6th grade. It wasn't always funny to me. In fact, I never would have used the word a year or so ago and now here I am out on the world wide web going off half-cocked! (Couldn't resist.) It's really just a gradual wearing down the resistance of what you think is funny and the lines of appropriateness. My lines have never been that harsh anyways so it wasn't a big stretch to get to where I am today. I'm still more uptight than he is in most respects, but someone has to be or he might be cracking cock jokes in front of my parents. I try not to think of myself as uptight, but just reasonable. I'm sure he would disagree.
I don't know. I guess it's a slow day in Blogger-ville when I'm analyzing cock jokes, eh?
HP
My boyfriend does not have a sense of humor that meshes with that of many of my close friends. I accept that because, well, I think he's funny and he DEFINITELY thinks he's funny and so we have that in common and it works.
I would consider that a disclaimer for the story that I'm going to share and if you are one of those people who fall into that category you may want to just skip this one...
Last night we're getting ready to head out of the house to meet his friend for dinner and I ask him if he has anything resembling breath freshener... He mumbles something from another room that sounds mildly naughty and I ignore it and repeat my question. That's when I hear him say that he has half a cock.
Half a cock? This is disturbing. What happened to the other half? And which half are we talking about? And HOW is that going to improve my breath? Is the other half a whitener??
Turns out he said hot white cock. I'm not sure that this was a better answer, frankly. Despite his belief to the contrary, there's nothing breath-freshening about that! He proceeded to sprinkle the word throughout the rest of the evening, singing along with songs on the radio and changing their lyrics to suit his hot white cock theme.
And it was pretty funny, actually. But, it did help me clarify why not all of my friends think he's as funny as I do. Cock just isn't funny to everyone who isn't in the 6th grade. It wasn't always funny to me. In fact, I never would have used the word a year or so ago and now here I am out on the world wide web going off half-cocked! (Couldn't resist.) It's really just a gradual wearing down the resistance of what you think is funny and the lines of appropriateness. My lines have never been that harsh anyways so it wasn't a big stretch to get to where I am today. I'm still more uptight than he is in most respects, but someone has to be or he might be cracking cock jokes in front of my parents. I try not to think of myself as uptight, but just reasonable. I'm sure he would disagree.
I don't know. I guess it's a slow day in Blogger-ville when I'm analyzing cock jokes, eh?
HP
Thursday, November 27, 2003
Twas the night of Thanksgiving
We went out for dinner this year. I'd never done that before, even when I was single and orphaned in South Dakota I always managed to get a home-cooked meal for Thanksgiving. But, it just wasn't possible to get it worked out. The people who wanted to cook couldn't house the people who didn't and the people who could house 'em didn't want to cook. We were stuck.
I tried to make the most of it. Be happy that we were altogether at least and no one had to wear themselves out cooking and stressing.
But, it was just terrible. The food was buffet food and I've never been fond of that. I guess I hoped that because it was a "special day" that the food would somehow become special. Nope, still just meat sitting in pans being kept warm by a light. Mm mm, good! And it's not even as if we got to enjoy each other's company and chat because we're at this big huge round table and there's people all around and waiting for our table. We just ate til we got full and made sparing comments about the food. There was no nagging or threatening to drag the men from the football and do one darned thing to help get this dinner ready. There was no ceremonial belt un-buckling. There was no glowing over how well one person fixed this and how this other was my personal favorite. It was just dinner in a restaurant with 50 other strange, old people with thinning hair in wheelchairs.
Never again. That was completely miserable, there is no way I could ever endure it again. I can't believe that there are people who do that year after year and talk it up like it's a good thing. Big time depressing.
I didn't even eat til I was stuffed, what kind of waste is that? If I don't feel guilty and self-loathing after a holiday meal then I really feel cheated. Is it so wrong to want the gravy that's just a little lumpy and Scott's perfect potatoes and the moist homemade turkey that's got stuffing to go with it that's moist but not soupy.
Sigh. Yeah. Stay in and eat turkey people -- all the work IS worth it! You're stuffed on more than food after a meal like that -- you're stuck on LOVE! ;-)
kisses,
HP
We went out for dinner this year. I'd never done that before, even when I was single and orphaned in South Dakota I always managed to get a home-cooked meal for Thanksgiving. But, it just wasn't possible to get it worked out. The people who wanted to cook couldn't house the people who didn't and the people who could house 'em didn't want to cook. We were stuck.
I tried to make the most of it. Be happy that we were altogether at least and no one had to wear themselves out cooking and stressing.
But, it was just terrible. The food was buffet food and I've never been fond of that. I guess I hoped that because it was a "special day" that the food would somehow become special. Nope, still just meat sitting in pans being kept warm by a light. Mm mm, good! And it's not even as if we got to enjoy each other's company and chat because we're at this big huge round table and there's people all around and waiting for our table. We just ate til we got full and made sparing comments about the food. There was no nagging or threatening to drag the men from the football and do one darned thing to help get this dinner ready. There was no ceremonial belt un-buckling. There was no glowing over how well one person fixed this and how this other was my personal favorite. It was just dinner in a restaurant with 50 other strange, old people with thinning hair in wheelchairs.
Never again. That was completely miserable, there is no way I could ever endure it again. I can't believe that there are people who do that year after year and talk it up like it's a good thing. Big time depressing.
I didn't even eat til I was stuffed, what kind of waste is that? If I don't feel guilty and self-loathing after a holiday meal then I really feel cheated. Is it so wrong to want the gravy that's just a little lumpy and Scott's perfect potatoes and the moist homemade turkey that's got stuffing to go with it that's moist but not soupy.
Sigh. Yeah. Stay in and eat turkey people -- all the work IS worth it! You're stuffed on more than food after a meal like that -- you're stuck on LOVE! ;-)
kisses,
HP
HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!
I actually woke up in the middle of the night last night without computer access (because someone was playing Crack on it and I didn't want to interrupt) and had giant thoughts about Bloggery things.
But, as the thoughts were a little bit more self-involved than usual, I'll save those for a post later. Promise!
Right now though, I just want to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving. I truly do believe that today is a time of giving thanks for the gifts we have in our lives. Every day we are given a gift just to be alive and be present with one another. I appreciate the people in my life more than they will ever know -- particularly because I am so incredibly bad at showing it.
I have had many friends and lovers come and go through the years and they all have touched my life in one way or another. Even the bad experiences I don't regret because I learned SO much from them. We're all just people trying to figure out what we're doing here and isn't it nice when you stumble across people that you enjoy figuring it out with?? People who truly make you better just for having known them?
I think most of us strive to be one of those kinds of people, but I know that I am rarely successful in that regard myself. But I do know that I will continue to feel blessed by the presence of good people in my life who lift me up when I am down and who help keep me there for as long as possible, always seeming to put their needs aside when mine are more than I can bear.
Thanks to everyone who touches my life and brings me joy, love, peace, hope and so much much more. I do appreciate you, I do love you, I do hope that I can give just a fraction of it back to you.
Now, lets go stuff ourselves to celebrate!
HP
I actually woke up in the middle of the night last night without computer access (because someone was playing Crack on it and I didn't want to interrupt) and had giant thoughts about Bloggery things.
But, as the thoughts were a little bit more self-involved than usual, I'll save those for a post later. Promise!
Right now though, I just want to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving. I truly do believe that today is a time of giving thanks for the gifts we have in our lives. Every day we are given a gift just to be alive and be present with one another. I appreciate the people in my life more than they will ever know -- particularly because I am so incredibly bad at showing it.
I have had many friends and lovers come and go through the years and they all have touched my life in one way or another. Even the bad experiences I don't regret because I learned SO much from them. We're all just people trying to figure out what we're doing here and isn't it nice when you stumble across people that you enjoy figuring it out with?? People who truly make you better just for having known them?
I think most of us strive to be one of those kinds of people, but I know that I am rarely successful in that regard myself. But I do know that I will continue to feel blessed by the presence of good people in my life who lift me up when I am down and who help keep me there for as long as possible, always seeming to put their needs aside when mine are more than I can bear.
Thanks to everyone who touches my life and brings me joy, love, peace, hope and so much much more. I do appreciate you, I do love you, I do hope that I can give just a fraction of it back to you.
Now, lets go stuff ourselves to celebrate!
HP
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
Well, I couldn't post last night because Blogger was being temperamental again. The problem is that I don't want to lose my stuff as I'm rather fond of much of it, which is why I don't move...
But I KNOW that many of you can't live without my recap of Average Joe, so I had to get on here before work to sum it up... Yes, I know that I'm the only one who really can't live without it -- but Katrina does enjoy the mockery factor, so this is for her too.
The fact is that the show is becoming a little Fox-like in its stunts and obstacles. Introducing the pretty boys was bad enough, but apparently next week they're putting Melana in a fat suit just to hear how the guys talk about her. Cheap and cheesy, guys. I mean, I'm not going to stop watching or anything but still -- it's a ridiculous ploy.
For those of you who care, I was pretty glad that she offed John. HP2 and I both agree that he was getting so annoying that he would have to be killed soon. (This is one body that it turns out she WOULD help me hide.) It was just too painful to see him waxing rhapsodic so many times about their date. He could think or talk of little else... I wonder how long it's been since they were together in real time? I wonder if he is still whining about it? My guess? Oh HE-ELL yeah! That's the problem with John. He possessed many of the characteristics that women think they want in a man, but raging insecurity and whininess go along with that and it's just not cool. I really only have room for one whiner in my relationship and that is ME!
She also got rid of one of the pretty boys, which is refreshing. He wasn't really all that pretty, frankly and he was sharing tidbits about his past that were like "Stalker, stalker, stalker" and she was right to cut him loose. Dude, he cried when he was cut, because he thought he was being judged for his looks again. How bizarre is that? Pretty boys have problems too.
Her date with Jason, one of the new guys, was disturbing. I can only hope that they were capturing this connection off-camera because the things that they were talking about were fairly mundane. Her voice-over was talking about how she felt this amazing connection with him and felt like she could talk to him about anything and then it shows her on-camera asking him if he liked dogs. Wow, really cracking open ground-breaking territory, aren't we?? Oh my God, does he like pizza and apple pie and Mom too?? It MUST be love!
Anyways, I have to go get ready for work but wanted to let y'all know that yes, I'm still addicted to the silly show and can't wait til it's on again and SNAPS to HP2 for getting sucked in with me! :-)
HP
But I KNOW that many of you can't live without my recap of Average Joe, so I had to get on here before work to sum it up... Yes, I know that I'm the only one who really can't live without it -- but Katrina does enjoy the mockery factor, so this is for her too.
The fact is that the show is becoming a little Fox-like in its stunts and obstacles. Introducing the pretty boys was bad enough, but apparently next week they're putting Melana in a fat suit just to hear how the guys talk about her. Cheap and cheesy, guys. I mean, I'm not going to stop watching or anything but still -- it's a ridiculous ploy.
For those of you who care, I was pretty glad that she offed John. HP2 and I both agree that he was getting so annoying that he would have to be killed soon. (This is one body that it turns out she WOULD help me hide.) It was just too painful to see him waxing rhapsodic so many times about their date. He could think or talk of little else... I wonder how long it's been since they were together in real time? I wonder if he is still whining about it? My guess? Oh HE-ELL yeah! That's the problem with John. He possessed many of the characteristics that women think they want in a man, but raging insecurity and whininess go along with that and it's just not cool. I really only have room for one whiner in my relationship and that is ME!
She also got rid of one of the pretty boys, which is refreshing. He wasn't really all that pretty, frankly and he was sharing tidbits about his past that were like "Stalker, stalker, stalker" and she was right to cut him loose. Dude, he cried when he was cut, because he thought he was being judged for his looks again. How bizarre is that? Pretty boys have problems too.
Her date with Jason, one of the new guys, was disturbing. I can only hope that they were capturing this connection off-camera because the things that they were talking about were fairly mundane. Her voice-over was talking about how she felt this amazing connection with him and felt like she could talk to him about anything and then it shows her on-camera asking him if he liked dogs. Wow, really cracking open ground-breaking territory, aren't we?? Oh my God, does he like pizza and apple pie and Mom too?? It MUST be love!
Anyways, I have to go get ready for work but wanted to let y'all know that yes, I'm still addicted to the silly show and can't wait til it's on again and SNAPS to HP2 for getting sucked in with me! :-)
HP
Monday, November 24, 2003
Reasons I could never be a stay-at-home Anything
I'm home ill today. I woke up with a large spike protruding from my head and some invisible being standing on my chest and I thought, I do not want to go through the turnstiles today.
So, I didn't.
And now I'm home and doped up on Aleve (GREAT, great stuff by the way) and I'm thinking there is NO way I could do this regularly. I finally rolled out of bed about 11, after lounging and reading a magazine for about a half hour. I forced myself to take a shower and then spend several hours lolling about in my bathrobe watching crap on tv. Real, true crap. My usual daytime fodder -- Dating Story, Makeover Story and a new one I got sucked in Second Chance. Followed by Ellen's new talk show, which I also caught last week at the dentist's office. I managed to go out to buy some egg drop soup and it was only as I was walking back to my car that I realized that my fly was all. the. way. DOWN. If I hadn't already been feeling like crap I probably would have died right there. How embarrassing is that?? It was bad enough being out in public in my super-fat clothes with no makeup and a sore on my hand that looks festering and contagious (I think I must have gotten an attack of the "itchies" in my sleep last night) but to put the icing on that cake with the wide open fly... Well, I don't really want to leave my house again.
It's sad. I will always be a dork. I remember looking forward to this time and age in my life with something akin to longing when I was a young, awkward girl thinking that I would finally have it together by now. I would be cool and with it and I think I'm even less cool than I was then and I'm not even sure how that is possible. But, how many cool pepole sit at home in their fat jeans watching TLC all day?? How many cool people own fat jeans? I am mired in my own nerdiness and being ill only seems to amplify that feeling.
Thank God I don't own a TiVo, it would only serve to magnify my uncoolness with all of the dorky things I would choose to watch. And not even dorky in an intellectual kind of way.
I think I'm going to force myself to really work on my school stuff so at least I can be legitimately dorky for a little while!!
HP
I'm home ill today. I woke up with a large spike protruding from my head and some invisible being standing on my chest and I thought, I do not want to go through the turnstiles today.
So, I didn't.
And now I'm home and doped up on Aleve (GREAT, great stuff by the way) and I'm thinking there is NO way I could do this regularly. I finally rolled out of bed about 11, after lounging and reading a magazine for about a half hour. I forced myself to take a shower and then spend several hours lolling about in my bathrobe watching crap on tv. Real, true crap. My usual daytime fodder -- Dating Story, Makeover Story and a new one I got sucked in Second Chance. Followed by Ellen's new talk show, which I also caught last week at the dentist's office. I managed to go out to buy some egg drop soup and it was only as I was walking back to my car that I realized that my fly was all. the. way. DOWN. If I hadn't already been feeling like crap I probably would have died right there. How embarrassing is that?? It was bad enough being out in public in my super-fat clothes with no makeup and a sore on my hand that looks festering and contagious (I think I must have gotten an attack of the "itchies" in my sleep last night) but to put the icing on that cake with the wide open fly... Well, I don't really want to leave my house again.
It's sad. I will always be a dork. I remember looking forward to this time and age in my life with something akin to longing when I was a young, awkward girl thinking that I would finally have it together by now. I would be cool and with it and I think I'm even less cool than I was then and I'm not even sure how that is possible. But, how many cool pepole sit at home in their fat jeans watching TLC all day?? How many cool people own fat jeans? I am mired in my own nerdiness and being ill only seems to amplify that feeling.
Thank God I don't own a TiVo, it would only serve to magnify my uncoolness with all of the dorky things I would choose to watch. And not even dorky in an intellectual kind of way.
I think I'm going to force myself to really work on my school stuff so at least I can be legitimately dorky for a little while!!
HP
Sunday, November 23, 2003
round & round she goes...
I had a rather bizarre afternoon taking boudoir photos of one of my best friends. I never, ever want to see her cleavage again, not even in an extreme cleavage emergency. And the only purpose it served for me is to make me feel fat and PALE. And flat-chested. Sigh. Well, I could diet and tan and buy boobs, but who has time for that?
Anyways, the pictures were fun. I was waxing nostalgic over my one stint at boudoir type photos, all though mine were in a group and I kept ruining them by closing my eyes, so it really wasn't the same. Often times, the cheesy shots turn out just as cheesy as you think, but every now and again you get a surprise winner! Luckily, the girl is rather photogenic so she doesn't have any real concerns.
In other crevices from my brain -- I am wondering why I didn't think to take classes a long time ago! I get out of all kinds of shit just by saying that I have homework to do. I mean, most of the time it is true -- I DO have homework to do. But, it's not always true that I'm doing it. But if it keeps me out of the Nagging Zone then I am all for it!
My head's too achy to give you more tonight, sorry. I have homework to do! ;-)
I had a rather bizarre afternoon taking boudoir photos of one of my best friends. I never, ever want to see her cleavage again, not even in an extreme cleavage emergency. And the only purpose it served for me is to make me feel fat and PALE. And flat-chested. Sigh. Well, I could diet and tan and buy boobs, but who has time for that?
Anyways, the pictures were fun. I was waxing nostalgic over my one stint at boudoir type photos, all though mine were in a group and I kept ruining them by closing my eyes, so it really wasn't the same. Often times, the cheesy shots turn out just as cheesy as you think, but every now and again you get a surprise winner! Luckily, the girl is rather photogenic so she doesn't have any real concerns.
In other crevices from my brain -- I am wondering why I didn't think to take classes a long time ago! I get out of all kinds of shit just by saying that I have homework to do. I mean, most of the time it is true -- I DO have homework to do. But, it's not always true that I'm doing it. But if it keeps me out of the Nagging Zone then I am all for it!
My head's too achy to give you more tonight, sorry. I have homework to do! ;-)
Love Actually
I liked this movie, although my disbelief was swinging like a pendulum over my head the entire time... I think it's my cynicism. There was some fairly syrupy moments in the film, although I never felt the need to vomit or crap because of them.
The film is one of those many sides of many people's lives and even though they are gently tied together, it's not very tightly. Their relationships to one another is not of extreme importance. The problem is that there are too many of them for you to truly care too much about any of them. Young Sam madly in love at the tender age of 11 and the steps that his stepfather (who is left as his sole caretaker now that his mum has passed away) goes to to help him out are just awesome. That was far and away my favorite of the storylines.
Hugh Grant as the Prime Minister who falls in love with one of his employees was pretty cute. There's a "He's a Hero" moments when he talks tough to the US President, as played by Billy Bob Thornton. The entire storyline didn't make a ton of sense though, because he winds up letting her go because he caught her in a tangle with the President. (No surprise, the President is a bit of a sleeze and is trying to mack on the girl.) It resolves itself with him tracking her down on the dodgy end of her street and wishing random voters Merry Christmas.
Another interesting storyline involved Colin Firth (you may know him as Mr. Darcy to Bridget Jones) falling in love with his housekeeper, who only speaks Portuguese. There are some cute exchanges between them as they struggle to communicate in their own languages, but ultimately I had a problem with the fact that he could fall in love with someone he didn't even know. Am I this addicted to the need for communication and it's importance in our lives?? You bet your ass. How can you fall in love with someone and not know anything about them?? That's not love, people. Still, I love Colin Firth in spite of myself (I had a wicked urge to watch The Importance of Being Earnest again.) so I was pretty happy when he was marching through her village to sweep her off her feet, with all of the villagers in tow.
There was a storyline involving Alan Rickman toying with the idea of an affair until his poor wife Emma Thompson finds out. Ho hum. Laura Linney chooses her mentally challenged brother over the hottie in her office that she's had a crush on for "Ahm, two years, seven months, three days and, I suppose, and hour and thirty minutes". Couldn't understand that for a second and if you could have SEEN that guy, neither could you. A couple meets while doing stand-in for a porno, that was weird. Then there are the two best friends, one of whom is in love with the others wife. I didn't get that one at all -- in the beginning it seemed as if they were gay and the one was forced to get married to some random girl. That was odd. And then there was the priceless Billy Mack, the aging rock star who's trying to make a comeback with "Christmas is all around" (to the tune of Love is All Around) and he's so over-the-top with his sex, drugs and rock & roll comments that you really HAVE to love him, actually. ;- )
So, there it is. Is it worth going to see? Yeah, I guess. But, if you wind up waiting for video you're not going to be cursing yourself.
Next up, I really want to see the damned Matrix Revolutions. What a pain -- I really don't think that I am even going to like it that much, but I sat through the first two and I want to see how it all ends. That's how they GET you!
OFF TO COFFEE...
HP
I liked this movie, although my disbelief was swinging like a pendulum over my head the entire time... I think it's my cynicism. There was some fairly syrupy moments in the film, although I never felt the need to vomit or crap because of them.
The film is one of those many sides of many people's lives and even though they are gently tied together, it's not very tightly. Their relationships to one another is not of extreme importance. The problem is that there are too many of them for you to truly care too much about any of them. Young Sam madly in love at the tender age of 11 and the steps that his stepfather (who is left as his sole caretaker now that his mum has passed away) goes to to help him out are just awesome. That was far and away my favorite of the storylines.
Hugh Grant as the Prime Minister who falls in love with one of his employees was pretty cute. There's a "He's a Hero" moments when he talks tough to the US President, as played by Billy Bob Thornton. The entire storyline didn't make a ton of sense though, because he winds up letting her go because he caught her in a tangle with the President. (No surprise, the President is a bit of a sleeze and is trying to mack on the girl.) It resolves itself with him tracking her down on the dodgy end of her street and wishing random voters Merry Christmas.
Another interesting storyline involved Colin Firth (you may know him as Mr. Darcy to Bridget Jones) falling in love with his housekeeper, who only speaks Portuguese. There are some cute exchanges between them as they struggle to communicate in their own languages, but ultimately I had a problem with the fact that he could fall in love with someone he didn't even know. Am I this addicted to the need for communication and it's importance in our lives?? You bet your ass. How can you fall in love with someone and not know anything about them?? That's not love, people. Still, I love Colin Firth in spite of myself (I had a wicked urge to watch The Importance of Being Earnest again.) so I was pretty happy when he was marching through her village to sweep her off her feet, with all of the villagers in tow.
There was a storyline involving Alan Rickman toying with the idea of an affair until his poor wife Emma Thompson finds out. Ho hum. Laura Linney chooses her mentally challenged brother over the hottie in her office that she's had a crush on for "Ahm, two years, seven months, three days and, I suppose, and hour and thirty minutes". Couldn't understand that for a second and if you could have SEEN that guy, neither could you. A couple meets while doing stand-in for a porno, that was weird. Then there are the two best friends, one of whom is in love with the others wife. I didn't get that one at all -- in the beginning it seemed as if they were gay and the one was forced to get married to some random girl. That was odd. And then there was the priceless Billy Mack, the aging rock star who's trying to make a comeback with "Christmas is all around" (to the tune of Love is All Around) and he's so over-the-top with his sex, drugs and rock & roll comments that you really HAVE to love him, actually. ;- )
So, there it is. Is it worth going to see? Yeah, I guess. But, if you wind up waiting for video you're not going to be cursing yourself.
Next up, I really want to see the damned Matrix Revolutions. What a pain -- I really don't think that I am even going to like it that much, but I sat through the first two and I want to see how it all ends. That's how they GET you!
OFF TO COFFEE...
HP
this wasn't even close to the lost post...
Last night I was attempting to write about how Saturday nights are so different now that I'm in the Relationship Zone. When we first started dating, it didn't take long before we slipped into a routine of "let's just stay in tonight." While many parts of me enjoyed that, there was still a part of me that felt like I was missing out on something because I wasn't out there too. It didn't take long for me to get over that too. Saturday night became a night to settle in and just snuggle with my honey. (Yes, the phrase makes me a little ill too but it's mostly accurate.)
So, when the rare occasion comes up for me to go "hooting and hollering" (as my Godmother puts it) on a Saturday night -- it's a bit of a challenge. I'm not used to thinking about what to wear or where to go or how much makeup or all of that crap anymore. It often makes me think about what I would do if Scott and I were no longer together. Yes, I'd be upset but life goes on and I know that I wouldn't want to be single forever, pining over the loss... I'd have to go back out there again. I'd have to do the bar scene or the internet scene or whatever and there's such an odor of desperation that hangs in the air in those situations, even in the most innocuous of places like the bar we went to last night. (A 40-something very drunk, very bald guy was trying to chat me up because I bummed a cigarrette. I suppose I owed it to him for the smoke, but I didn't wanna.)
And here is where I digressed last night and where I digress again this morning. Because even though I have thought about what my dating pool would be like if I were single again, it's only ever been in a surreal, distant kind of way. I love Scott. I can't imagine being with anyone else who complements me more. (I COULD imagine being with someone who COMPLIMENTS me more, but what're you gonna do? I could stand to compliment him more too.) I feel like it is a betrayal of those feelings even to imagine another way of life. That's why I wind up digressing, I guess it's a loyalty thing. It's disgusting, in a way -- but sometimes the truth is.
Anyways -- a new post is needed to discuss the movie and I'm over my own self anyways.
Last night I was attempting to write about how Saturday nights are so different now that I'm in the Relationship Zone. When we first started dating, it didn't take long before we slipped into a routine of "let's just stay in tonight." While many parts of me enjoyed that, there was still a part of me that felt like I was missing out on something because I wasn't out there too. It didn't take long for me to get over that too. Saturday night became a night to settle in and just snuggle with my honey. (Yes, the phrase makes me a little ill too but it's mostly accurate.)
So, when the rare occasion comes up for me to go "hooting and hollering" (as my Godmother puts it) on a Saturday night -- it's a bit of a challenge. I'm not used to thinking about what to wear or where to go or how much makeup or all of that crap anymore. It often makes me think about what I would do if Scott and I were no longer together. Yes, I'd be upset but life goes on and I know that I wouldn't want to be single forever, pining over the loss... I'd have to go back out there again. I'd have to do the bar scene or the internet scene or whatever and there's such an odor of desperation that hangs in the air in those situations, even in the most innocuous of places like the bar we went to last night. (A 40-something very drunk, very bald guy was trying to chat me up because I bummed a cigarrette. I suppose I owed it to him for the smoke, but I didn't wanna.)
And here is where I digressed last night and where I digress again this morning. Because even though I have thought about what my dating pool would be like if I were single again, it's only ever been in a surreal, distant kind of way. I love Scott. I can't imagine being with anyone else who complements me more. (I COULD imagine being with someone who COMPLIMENTS me more, but what're you gonna do? I could stand to compliment him more too.) I feel like it is a betrayal of those feelings even to imagine another way of life. That's why I wind up digressing, I guess it's a loyalty thing. It's disgusting, in a way -- but sometimes the truth is.
Anyways -- a new post is needed to discuss the movie and I'm over my own self anyways.
Saturday, November 22, 2003
You don't say?
I met this guy and he looked like might have been a hat check clerk at an ice rink.
Which, in fact, he turned out to be.
(Wrong gender, but that was for you Katrina.)
**********************************************************************************
(Divider.)
One of my favorite dumb jokes (even more than ask me if I'm a truck) is the one where the man answers the phone, listens for a moment and says, "You don't say!"
Pauses. Listens some more. Exclaims again, "You don't say!"
This goes on a few more times and then he hangs up. The woman in the room says, "Who was that on the phone?"
"He wouldn't say."
Ba doom boom.
Here's what made me think of those things... I met this 22 year old guy at work who's the new kid on our team. I say "met" although we've just wound up having an email conversation and have never actually met. Background on that was that I sent out a group email to our team and included the phrase "teensy scolding" -- he must have thought this was funny and so replied to it. After I replied to that, we got to chatting.
So, we mainly connected because of the commonality of blogging. I'm a blogger, he's a blogger, wouldn't you like to be a blogger too? We shared blog sites and I went to check his out... It's that 20-year old life that I couldn't relate to when I was 20-something all over again. (I can't link it because it's not public, sorry.) It's the whole life of being hip and cool by virtue of the fact that you're NOT hip and cool. His friends are into tattoes and piercings and quoting 80's movies. The latter really pisses me off, because you were friggin' born in the 80's, find your own damned identity and quit trying to cop mine! Seriously. It's not MY fault that was the last time that they made teen movies that were cool. (Although, how I can say that with a straight face is beyond me given the number of Saturday afternoons I have farted away because Bring it On or 10 Things I hate about You were on.)
One of the reasons that I do not regularly associate with people who are much younger than me is because it reminds me of my wasted youth. I never really had a formative period in my early 20's that defined who I am even to this day. Seeing it so raw and exposed really makes me feel OLD. And I am NOT old. And I am not in denial!
That's why I can never really understand the attraction for younger men. It's not like they have an understanding of cellulite and wrinkles. Biological clocks. Whatever. There's none of that in their world which means you'd have to work that much harder to stave off yours. Ick. One of the benefits of being with someone older is that not only am I free to get lumpy, I'm nearly expected to do so. THAT is freedom, for real. I suppose it would keep me on my toes but who wants that? I'd rather relax.
It's nothing against younger guys or the women who are with them. (You know who you are, Demi Moore.) It's not like I don't understand the appeal of young dumb and cute, I invented the catcall YDC for pity's sake. It's just not for me.
Next blog -- why really old guys suck too! ;-)
HP
I met this guy and he looked like might have been a hat check clerk at an ice rink.
Which, in fact, he turned out to be.
(Wrong gender, but that was for you Katrina.)
**********************************************************************************
(Divider.)
One of my favorite dumb jokes (even more than ask me if I'm a truck) is the one where the man answers the phone, listens for a moment and says, "You don't say!"
Pauses. Listens some more. Exclaims again, "You don't say!"
This goes on a few more times and then he hangs up. The woman in the room says, "Who was that on the phone?"
"He wouldn't say."
Ba doom boom.
Here's what made me think of those things... I met this 22 year old guy at work who's the new kid on our team. I say "met" although we've just wound up having an email conversation and have never actually met. Background on that was that I sent out a group email to our team and included the phrase "teensy scolding" -- he must have thought this was funny and so replied to it. After I replied to that, we got to chatting.
So, we mainly connected because of the commonality of blogging. I'm a blogger, he's a blogger, wouldn't you like to be a blogger too? We shared blog sites and I went to check his out... It's that 20-year old life that I couldn't relate to when I was 20-something all over again. (I can't link it because it's not public, sorry.) It's the whole life of being hip and cool by virtue of the fact that you're NOT hip and cool. His friends are into tattoes and piercings and quoting 80's movies. The latter really pisses me off, because you were friggin' born in the 80's, find your own damned identity and quit trying to cop mine! Seriously. It's not MY fault that was the last time that they made teen movies that were cool. (Although, how I can say that with a straight face is beyond me given the number of Saturday afternoons I have farted away because Bring it On or 10 Things I hate about You were on.)
One of the reasons that I do not regularly associate with people who are much younger than me is because it reminds me of my wasted youth. I never really had a formative period in my early 20's that defined who I am even to this day. Seeing it so raw and exposed really makes me feel OLD. And I am NOT old. And I am not in denial!
That's why I can never really understand the attraction for younger men. It's not like they have an understanding of cellulite and wrinkles. Biological clocks. Whatever. There's none of that in their world which means you'd have to work that much harder to stave off yours. Ick. One of the benefits of being with someone older is that not only am I free to get lumpy, I'm nearly expected to do so. THAT is freedom, for real. I suppose it would keep me on my toes but who wants that? I'd rather relax.
It's nothing against younger guys or the women who are with them. (You know who you are, Demi Moore.) It's not like I don't understand the appeal of young dumb and cute, I invented the catcall YDC for pity's sake. It's just not for me.
Next blog -- why really old guys suck too! ;-)
HP
Thursday, November 20, 2003
leftover stuff from last night
I had two realizations last night that I wanted to right about, but was too tired...
1) Do you realize that we're never going to know what English really sounds like? We were watching something and the people were speaking Chinese and we were trying to describe what it sounded like. That's when I realized this. English is never going to sound like another language to us, so we have no idea if it sounds pretty or ugly or hard or soft or WHAT to people who don't speak the language. I think that's pretty fascinating, actually.
2) I realized that crux of 90% of my relationship issues boil down to one simple controversy. It is our conflict over "why won't you tell me this?" vs. "why do you need to know?" ALL of our problems pretty much come down to this one simple thing. I am excessively curious (it's genetic, let's get serious) and he is excessively taciturn with information. There are things that I want to know and he doesn't want to tell me the answers, mainly because he doesn't understand WHY I need to know. I don't see why it matters. Just tell me.
So, I know the heart of the problem, but how to fix it remains ever elusive. Scott probably knows, but he won't tell me! ;-)
kisses,
HP
I had two realizations last night that I wanted to right about, but was too tired...
1) Do you realize that we're never going to know what English really sounds like? We were watching something and the people were speaking Chinese and we were trying to describe what it sounded like. That's when I realized this. English is never going to sound like another language to us, so we have no idea if it sounds pretty or ugly or hard or soft or WHAT to people who don't speak the language. I think that's pretty fascinating, actually.
2) I realized that crux of 90% of my relationship issues boil down to one simple controversy. It is our conflict over "why won't you tell me this?" vs. "why do you need to know?" ALL of our problems pretty much come down to this one simple thing. I am excessively curious (it's genetic, let's get serious) and he is excessively taciturn with information. There are things that I want to know and he doesn't want to tell me the answers, mainly because he doesn't understand WHY I need to know. I don't see why it matters. Just tell me.
So, I know the heart of the problem, but how to fix it remains ever elusive. Scott probably knows, but he won't tell me! ;-)
kisses,
HP
Today's stuff!
My life seems a little surreal today, but I'm guessing that it's in part because half of my face is numb. (Not even comfortably!)
I got up early to go do the testing thing. English went surprisingly well, but I knew the Math was going horribly awry when I suddenly got a warn message on my screen that inquired, "Do you even know how to give exact change?" Frightening.
I got my lousy scores and I was instructed to go talk to a counselor. Oh joy. One of my favorite things in LIFE! I waited for an hour, cracking random jokes to anyone that was willing to listen. (I had a captive audience, what can I say?) I finally met with a counselor who was actually helpful, which was unusual.
[Sidenote: One of the actual test questions on my pending Psych 105 final has to do with describing my feelings while I'm on campus. I thought I'd share some of those with y'all in lieu of today's jaunt on campus... My thoughts were that I feel old, fat and uneducated. I have an acute awareness of my self-esteem problems as they pertain to my lack of education. I see all the different people, all wrapped up in their own thoughts and I wonder just HOW different can the really be?? Then I hear some of their thoughts spoken out loud and because so many of them are young, they seem less fettered, less in line with any reality that I know anything about. Oh well.]
So, anyways -- registered for classes (for those of you taking notes, Philosophy and Oral Communication, focusing on effective communication skills) and then off to the dentist. Oh boy -- where I got to fork over $116 to have 2 teeth filled. Sigh. But, what're you gonna do? I REALLY like my dentist and she happens to be out of the network. It's pretty rare that I need major dental work, and the regular visits don't cost me anything -- so I keep going. But, now it's costing me.
But, that's okay because CHRISTMAS BONUS IS COMING! Start submitting your gift requests right away!
My life seems a little surreal today, but I'm guessing that it's in part because half of my face is numb. (Not even comfortably!)
I got up early to go do the testing thing. English went surprisingly well, but I knew the Math was going horribly awry when I suddenly got a warn message on my screen that inquired, "Do you even know how to give exact change?" Frightening.
I got my lousy scores and I was instructed to go talk to a counselor. Oh joy. One of my favorite things in LIFE! I waited for an hour, cracking random jokes to anyone that was willing to listen. (I had a captive audience, what can I say?) I finally met with a counselor who was actually helpful, which was unusual.
[Sidenote: One of the actual test questions on my pending Psych 105 final has to do with describing my feelings while I'm on campus. I thought I'd share some of those with y'all in lieu of today's jaunt on campus... My thoughts were that I feel old, fat and uneducated. I have an acute awareness of my self-esteem problems as they pertain to my lack of education. I see all the different people, all wrapped up in their own thoughts and I wonder just HOW different can the really be?? Then I hear some of their thoughts spoken out loud and because so many of them are young, they seem less fettered, less in line with any reality that I know anything about. Oh well.]
So, anyways -- registered for classes (for those of you taking notes, Philosophy and Oral Communication, focusing on effective communication skills) and then off to the dentist. Oh boy -- where I got to fork over $116 to have 2 teeth filled. Sigh. But, what're you gonna do? I REALLY like my dentist and she happens to be out of the network. It's pretty rare that I need major dental work, and the regular visits don't cost me anything -- so I keep going. But, now it's costing me.
But, that's okay because CHRISTMAS BONUS IS COMING! Start submitting your gift requests right away!
Wednesday, November 19, 2003
"Testing...attention, please!"
Nothing to make you feel like an idot more than an assessment test. I haven't even taken it yet and already I I feel like a loser. I'm 30. Years old that is. A lot of those years have been spent away from anything resembling normal English or Math. (One quick glance at this Blog and my checkbook can confirm that!) But, now I'm going to pay $4 (American!) to get assessed in those areas. It's humiliating.
I'm nervous. The truth about my lack of intelligence is unsettling. I try to justify any potential failing by how long it's been since I've been separated from it, but that's a bunch of crap. Plenty of the people that I know have been separated from it just as long as I have and they remember. They remember. They work on it, I don't. I just can't even remember caring about this stuff.
But, if I want the degree, the piece of paper to make me feel like I AM good enough and equal to anyone... Well, I gotta go get assessed.
And then I get to go to the dentist and get a tooth filled. I'm pretty unhappy about that, because it's going to wind up costing ME money to be in pain and that totally sucks.
But that's another blog. :-)
-hp
Nothing to make you feel like an idot more than an assessment test. I haven't even taken it yet and already I I feel like a loser. I'm 30. Years old that is. A lot of those years have been spent away from anything resembling normal English or Math. (One quick glance at this Blog and my checkbook can confirm that!) But, now I'm going to pay $4 (American!) to get assessed in those areas. It's humiliating.
I'm nervous. The truth about my lack of intelligence is unsettling. I try to justify any potential failing by how long it's been since I've been separated from it, but that's a bunch of crap. Plenty of the people that I know have been separated from it just as long as I have and they remember. They remember. They work on it, I don't. I just can't even remember caring about this stuff.
But, if I want the degree, the piece of paper to make me feel like I AM good enough and equal to anyone... Well, I gotta go get assessed.
And then I get to go to the dentist and get a tooth filled. I'm pretty unhappy about that, because it's going to wind up costing ME money to be in pain and that totally sucks.
But that's another blog. :-)
-hp
Tuesday, November 18, 2003
Love is in the air.... blech!
So, my friend has got bling on the brain and it turns out that her boyfriend has the same kind of thoughts though I won't go into the details of HOW she knows this just in case... He could be a reader, you don't know!
I'm happy for her in a way, but the thing is that I've had a pizza in my refrigerator for longer than they've been dating. It's discouraging. They're not the only ones with the wedding bells on the horizon either, meanwhile I seem to facing happily NEVER after! But, as long as I'm not bitter about it then that's okay, right?
I'm not bitter. Much. But I just have glowing syrupy fantasies about fabulous proposals in made in carriage rides with the colors flying and the birds swirling and all that crap. I've seen too many Chick Flicks and I have just overly romantic ideas about how it's "supposed" to be. It's ridiculous. I suppose if I had been proposed to the first time around then my feelings may be different. But I wasn't. It was just, "do you think we should...? Yeah, I guess so." I daresay that I may have even been the person who initiated the talk, not something that I'm proud of. But, that's another blog.
So, I have this fantasy virginal dream about how it's going to be and how all of the days after will be. In my mind, we're this DIY couple who live at Home Depot and "had" to buy a pickup truck because of all the projects I "make" him do. Trust me, the fantasies are way out there -- I cook in them, for God's sake.
I don't know. It's just the idea. Of someone wanting, nay CHOOSING, to spend all of his days with little ole me. Little ole me, with my BIG ole mouth and lofty dreams.
We won't even get into the tick-tock that's slowly started, but I do know that I'm going to need to start taking breaks NOT overlooking the child development center...
HP
So, my friend has got bling on the brain and it turns out that her boyfriend has the same kind of thoughts though I won't go into the details of HOW she knows this just in case... He could be a reader, you don't know!
I'm happy for her in a way, but the thing is that I've had a pizza in my refrigerator for longer than they've been dating. It's discouraging. They're not the only ones with the wedding bells on the horizon either, meanwhile I seem to facing happily NEVER after! But, as long as I'm not bitter about it then that's okay, right?
I'm not bitter. Much. But I just have glowing syrupy fantasies about fabulous proposals in made in carriage rides with the colors flying and the birds swirling and all that crap. I've seen too many Chick Flicks and I have just overly romantic ideas about how it's "supposed" to be. It's ridiculous. I suppose if I had been proposed to the first time around then my feelings may be different. But I wasn't. It was just, "do you think we should...? Yeah, I guess so." I daresay that I may have even been the person who initiated the talk, not something that I'm proud of. But, that's another blog.
So, I have this fantasy virginal dream about how it's going to be and how all of the days after will be. In my mind, we're this DIY couple who live at Home Depot and "had" to buy a pickup truck because of all the projects I "make" him do. Trust me, the fantasies are way out there -- I cook in them, for God's sake.
I don't know. It's just the idea. Of someone wanting, nay CHOOSING, to spend all of his days with little ole me. Little ole me, with my BIG ole mouth and lofty dreams.
We won't even get into the tick-tock that's slowly started, but I do know that I'm going to need to start taking breaks NOT overlooking the child development center...
HP
Monday, November 17, 2003
3 glasses of wine & cheesy reality show later...
"I'm feeling much better now!"
Average Joe delivers another coup as the irritating Brad is cut! She kept Zach, but we all knew that it was just hoping for TOO much to see him get cut.
But the plot thickens as the producers conjure up 3 more competitors -- Yummy, Zummy and MmHmm. (Although, frankly -- and I am NOT just sucking up to my boyfriend here -- they really didn't do much for me. Yes, they have sexy longish hair and abs that you could cut down trees with, but they just don't seem charming really.) I think this sucks, because here this poor schleps had to fight tooth and nail to NOT get eliminated over like what (?) 13 other guys? Even Zach was disconcerted, which was nice for a change.
Here's the thing -- we've just got stereotypes feeding into more stereotypes. The Average guy is not going to get the Beautiful girl, because the Handsome guy is always going to sweep in at the last second and "steal" her. The problem is that the Beautiful girl could never really be "won" by the Handsome guy if she weren't on some levels ultimately shallow. (Sorry, but it's true.) Of course, plenty of Handsome guys happen to have stellar personalities to go along with their looks, but seriously -- how often does this happen in real life?? (Except for you, honey. We know you're good and not just looking.) Approximately never. Most of the time the Attractive people are not really blessed with great senses of humor or stellar intellects or whathaveyou, because why do they need both?? Even if they HAVE both, they just aren't going to display that because it doesn't really work like that.
Okay. I'm sneezing AND hiccuping at the same time and it just doesn't get more annoying than that. And yes, Elizabeth -- I am thinking about a grapefruit and I mean it. Maybe I have to think about a fruit I actually like and mean it? Hit the comment button, if you can see it! :-)
HP
"I'm feeling much better now!"
Average Joe delivers another coup as the irritating Brad is cut! She kept Zach, but we all knew that it was just hoping for TOO much to see him get cut.
But the plot thickens as the producers conjure up 3 more competitors -- Yummy, Zummy and MmHmm. (Although, frankly -- and I am NOT just sucking up to my boyfriend here -- they really didn't do much for me. Yes, they have sexy longish hair and abs that you could cut down trees with, but they just don't seem charming really.) I think this sucks, because here this poor schleps had to fight tooth and nail to NOT get eliminated over like what (?) 13 other guys? Even Zach was disconcerted, which was nice for a change.
Here's the thing -- we've just got stereotypes feeding into more stereotypes. The Average guy is not going to get the Beautiful girl, because the Handsome guy is always going to sweep in at the last second and "steal" her. The problem is that the Beautiful girl could never really be "won" by the Handsome guy if she weren't on some levels ultimately shallow. (Sorry, but it's true.) Of course, plenty of Handsome guys happen to have stellar personalities to go along with their looks, but seriously -- how often does this happen in real life?? (Except for you, honey. We know you're good and not just looking.) Approximately never. Most of the time the Attractive people are not really blessed with great senses of humor or stellar intellects or whathaveyou, because why do they need both?? Even if they HAVE both, they just aren't going to display that because it doesn't really work like that.
Okay. I'm sneezing AND hiccuping at the same time and it just doesn't get more annoying than that. And yes, Elizabeth -- I am thinking about a grapefruit and I mean it. Maybe I have to think about a fruit I actually like and mean it? Hit the comment button, if you can see it! :-)
HP
Looks like someone's got a case of the Mondays
I very desperately wanted to just crawl under the covers today and make the world go away. Helped some friends move yesterday (as much help as I can be, 200lb weakling that I am -- har, har) and I could barely lift my arms to wash my hair. I go to slap on some war paint to cover my fatigued face and discovered that I left the "good stuff" at Daddy's house... So deep runs my vanity that I almost went over there just to do my face before work and then I got over myself and used the "not-as-good stuff" to do my face with. Then I just snarled at people all day, which works wonders for your appearance.
Couple that with a To-Do list that was literally 4 pages long and a minor power play with my boss and all in all -- NOT a stellar day. (It's not literally a To Do list but to explain what it literally means would be boring and UNfascinating to everyone but Katrina!) [God bless Katrina, by the way, for being interested in that boring crap. Makes me feel like slightly less of a drudge. Not much, but slightly.]
Where was I? Yes. So, bad day. And it was Monday to boot. All in all, not much to blog about but damn it someone's got to be prolific and it might as well be me.
So, I will explain the power play thing with my boss and if anyone wants to toss out suggestions I'll be happy to field 'em. The thing is, I love my boss. I really do. But she and I are a LITTLE too much alike at times and the bottom line is that she's the one in charge at the end of the day so I'm never going to be right in situations where she doesn't agree with me. She has this thing that she does when she is a little miffed at one person where she will drag ANOTHER person into the conversation. I was on the receiving end of this today. She asked me a question and then she didn't like the answer I gave her, so she dragged another co-worker into the fray to "back her up." I understand, on some levels, that it was NOT that serious, but I didn't like it. To be fair, I am more often than not the employee who is brought in to "back her up" and I don't like that either. Both ways, it puts me in a poor spot. But, the fact of the matter is that in order for me to keep things the way that I like them, I can't really call her out for doing it to me because that moves my position in this little game. I don't like it but she's going to keep doing it and it works to my favor more often than not.
Evil Corporate Heather, bet y'all didn't know that I had it in me, did you? The fact is that I don't. However. I've always been one to play the hand that's dealt me. And this is the first time in some time where I've been dealt a pretty good hand AND been in a position to bet on it.
Ick. It's disgusting even to me. I'm gonna go have some wine and Easy Cheese, the cure-alls for what ails ya!
Love you mean it,
Catbert =)
I very desperately wanted to just crawl under the covers today and make the world go away. Helped some friends move yesterday (as much help as I can be, 200lb weakling that I am -- har, har) and I could barely lift my arms to wash my hair. I go to slap on some war paint to cover my fatigued face and discovered that I left the "good stuff" at Daddy's house... So deep runs my vanity that I almost went over there just to do my face before work and then I got over myself and used the "not-as-good stuff" to do my face with. Then I just snarled at people all day, which works wonders for your appearance.
Couple that with a To-Do list that was literally 4 pages long and a minor power play with my boss and all in all -- NOT a stellar day. (It's not literally a To Do list but to explain what it literally means would be boring and UNfascinating to everyone but Katrina!) [God bless Katrina, by the way, for being interested in that boring crap. Makes me feel like slightly less of a drudge. Not much, but slightly.]
Where was I? Yes. So, bad day. And it was Monday to boot. All in all, not much to blog about but damn it someone's got to be prolific and it might as well be me.
So, I will explain the power play thing with my boss and if anyone wants to toss out suggestions I'll be happy to field 'em. The thing is, I love my boss. I really do. But she and I are a LITTLE too much alike at times and the bottom line is that she's the one in charge at the end of the day so I'm never going to be right in situations where she doesn't agree with me. She has this thing that she does when she is a little miffed at one person where she will drag ANOTHER person into the conversation. I was on the receiving end of this today. She asked me a question and then she didn't like the answer I gave her, so she dragged another co-worker into the fray to "back her up." I understand, on some levels, that it was NOT that serious, but I didn't like it. To be fair, I am more often than not the employee who is brought in to "back her up" and I don't like that either. Both ways, it puts me in a poor spot. But, the fact of the matter is that in order for me to keep things the way that I like them, I can't really call her out for doing it to me because that moves my position in this little game. I don't like it but she's going to keep doing it and it works to my favor more often than not.
Evil Corporate Heather, bet y'all didn't know that I had it in me, did you? The fact is that I don't. However. I've always been one to play the hand that's dealt me. And this is the first time in some time where I've been dealt a pretty good hand AND been in a position to bet on it.
Ick. It's disgusting even to me. I'm gonna go have some wine and Easy Cheese, the cure-alls for what ails ya!
Love you mean it,
Catbert =)
Friday, November 14, 2003
Heather on her Soapbox, again
I'm an organ donor, why aren't you?
On the way home from work tonight, I tuned in to one of my favorite radio stations The Point. They're doing a radiothon currently for the local children's hospital, and being the terrible person that I am I don't listen too much during this timeframe because my heartstrings get pulled and I'm not giving them any money. The guilt emanating from the radio triples... And it got even worse tonight as I tuned in just in time to hear the tail end of the story of a woman whose young son died a few years ago. I guess the hospital must have been very supportive during the timeframe, but I just heard that he died. It was pretty sad, she sounded young -- he must have been very young, etc. But I cracked when she said that she got to meet the young girl who received his heart this past February.
Can you imagine? Your child has died and despite the incredible amount of pain you're suffering as a result of that you somehow muster the courage to give consent for organ donation and someone else's child is living as a result of your incredible loss. And I think that as awful as your loss must be, that must somehow make up for it.
That's why I'm an organ donor. Not that I think that others will be able to soldier on after I'm gone because my liver (hm, bad example -- my kidney, how bout that?) lives on in another, but knowing that I can give that gift does me a world of good in my heart for all of the things I DIDN'T do while I was around to do them. I'm going to be dead, I am NOT going to be needing what I've got left where I'm going. (Especially where I'm bound to go.) So, why not fork 'em over? Seriously. What reason does any person who believes they have a soul have for NOT being an organ donor?
I'm an organ donor, why aren't you?
I'm an organ donor, why aren't you?
On the way home from work tonight, I tuned in to one of my favorite radio stations The Point. They're doing a radiothon currently for the local children's hospital, and being the terrible person that I am I don't listen too much during this timeframe because my heartstrings get pulled and I'm not giving them any money. The guilt emanating from the radio triples... And it got even worse tonight as I tuned in just in time to hear the tail end of the story of a woman whose young son died a few years ago. I guess the hospital must have been very supportive during the timeframe, but I just heard that he died. It was pretty sad, she sounded young -- he must have been very young, etc. But I cracked when she said that she got to meet the young girl who received his heart this past February.
Can you imagine? Your child has died and despite the incredible amount of pain you're suffering as a result of that you somehow muster the courage to give consent for organ donation and someone else's child is living as a result of your incredible loss. And I think that as awful as your loss must be, that must somehow make up for it.
That's why I'm an organ donor. Not that I think that others will be able to soldier on after I'm gone because my liver (hm, bad example -- my kidney, how bout that?) lives on in another, but knowing that I can give that gift does me a world of good in my heart for all of the things I DIDN'T do while I was around to do them. I'm going to be dead, I am NOT going to be needing what I've got left where I'm going. (Especially where I'm bound to go.) So, why not fork 'em over? Seriously. What reason does any person who believes they have a soul have for NOT being an organ donor?
I'm an organ donor, why aren't you?
Wednesday, November 12, 2003
"We've got a possible 511, here"
Everyone that knows me, knows that my mother is insanely curious about my mundane life. She read my diary when I was a teenager, and I caught her reading my email a few years ago and both times it caused a MAJOR upheaval in my life. Tears and screaming and the whole nine yards. It was ugly.
But, now -- the Onion has once more sent a ripple of fear through me with this article. After all, she wouldn't have to do anything TOO terribly sneaky to find me here, chronicling boring life stuff ad nauseum.
One good reason NOT to use your last name in your blog, people! Keep Mom and her Google happy self away from wild drunk references and whatnot.
Good Lord -- still, it was pretty damned funny. "Widmar said he expects his site to provide Lillian with ample cause for worry."
I love the Onion. I never remember to read it, but I do like it a lot.
This usurped other blog-spiration, so until next time...
HP
Everyone that knows me, knows that my mother is insanely curious about my mundane life. She read my diary when I was a teenager, and I caught her reading my email a few years ago and both times it caused a MAJOR upheaval in my life. Tears and screaming and the whole nine yards. It was ugly.
But, now -- the Onion has once more sent a ripple of fear through me with this article. After all, she wouldn't have to do anything TOO terribly sneaky to find me here, chronicling boring life stuff ad nauseum.
One good reason NOT to use your last name in your blog, people! Keep Mom and her Google happy self away from wild drunk references and whatnot.
Good Lord -- still, it was pretty damned funny. "Widmar said he expects his site to provide Lillian with ample cause for worry."
I love the Onion. I never remember to read it, but I do like it a lot.
This usurped other blog-spiration, so until next time...
HP
pre-coffee jitters
1. Yes, I know that the cnn story turned out to be a fake. I mostly suspected that, but I'm mildly taken aback that it was somehow linked to a cnn story without repercussion. Nevertheless, y'all can stop telling me.
2. How would I live without Febreeze? Those last minute "oops, I really shouldva washed this but I really want to wear it!" moments would be a disaster without it.
3. I'm thinking of moving the blog over to Salon.com but not sure what would happen to all the stuff HERE. Would it sit in cyberspace forever for me to come back and visit it and remember when fondly? Who can tell me this? DAVE!?
4. I'm late for work, again. And my boyfriend don't love me no mo' but we're pushing onwards anyway! ;-)
HP
1. Yes, I know that the cnn story turned out to be a fake. I mostly suspected that, but I'm mildly taken aback that it was somehow linked to a cnn story without repercussion. Nevertheless, y'all can stop telling me.
2. How would I live without Febreeze? Those last minute "oops, I really shouldva washed this but I really want to wear it!" moments would be a disaster without it.
3. I'm thinking of moving the blog over to Salon.com but not sure what would happen to all the stuff HERE. Would it sit in cyberspace forever for me to come back and visit it and remember when fondly? Who can tell me this? DAVE!?
4. I'm late for work, again. And my boyfriend don't love me no mo' but we're pushing onwards anyway! ;-)
HP
Tuesday, November 11, 2003
If you want disturbing facts...
Then look no further kids -- because I've just become a role model. Yup. Shaping tomorrow's leaders, that's me. Only on a much, much smaller scale -- I'm a pen pal to a fifth grade girl. Already the selective process has begun, I had to choose based on the name alone.
Let me throw a little background... My company has several local volunteer activities that it particpates in and one of them is a pen pal exchange with local students. I signed up several months ago because I thought it would be kind of fun to hear life from the elementary school vantage point. Perhaps take a wee bit of the edge off of old Heather and kick start that old biological clock. Who knows? Crazier things have happened. (Sidenote: It's not so much that I'm concerned that my biological clock isn't ticking as I am concerned that I'm not concerned. Or something.) Anyways, for some reason it kept getting put off. I almost forgot until I got an email today announcing that the program was finally getting underway. I thought we'd already have a letter, but apparently we have to kickstart the whole thing. There was a list of boys and girls at the elementary school that's participating in the program. Well, I didn't have anything to say to fifth grade boys when I was IN the fifth grade and turns out my feelings haven't much changed. (Although, don't I wish someone had said a thing or two to that lousy Sean whateverhislastnamewas?? He sure was mean to me and it wasn't all my fault I was chunky and geeky, was it?) So, I sorted through the list of names and I realized that we were supposed to decide based solely on NAME. That seems like a prejudicial thing, too. If you don't have a cool name or your name is too odd, you're back to being picked last in gym class again aren't you? I guess they don't know that, but I didn't much like it. And I got the girl with the coolest name anyways.
They had a Get to Know Your Pen Pal form that they encouraged us to use. It was crap. Here are some of the questions and some of the possible problems....
What college did you go to? You mean until I flunked out? Or rather, til I ran away across the country with a no good scum-sucking scumbag who wound up ruining my life? That story is probably best held off until the girl's teenage years, when she'll likely be able to relate.
What do you like best about your job? Why? It doesn't make me want to cry my heart out every day thinking about how I've sold my soul to the man as much as my last job did. That's not true, but even though I like my job and can explain to grown-ups what it is I like, an 11 year old girl will think that's the most boring thing in the world. I've already been rejected by 5th graders when I was IN the fifth grade, I'm not looking for a repeat performance. I want to pretend to be cool.
Please describe your family. We put the FUN in dysfunction! Do you know what dysfunctional means, honey? But seriously, how do you answer this question? I suppose it's applicable if you're like married with kids. Doesn't apply.
What kind of car do you drive? I hate this. I drive a Kia. And not even a fun Sportage, just a Spectra. A model that many people still don't even know exists. I know this because I look at automobile policies all day and I almost never see anyone with a Kia.
What kind of books do you like to read? How do you describe Chick Lit to an 11 year old? I like to read books about desperate yet spunky single girls who find love right under their noses just when they have decided they've given up on love.
But my PERSONAL favorite was What do you like to do in your spare time? It goes without saying that most of these things can't even be documented in the blog, so deep is my paranoia but definitely can't be recounted to a young girl. I like to whip up batches of Green Jesus and get my boyfriend to enforce them on my friends at parties where they are dressed in their pajamas.
Anyways. It should prove interesting. At the very least I may have fodder for my "column." At the very most I may learn a thing or two from this young girl. But, I really do think that only happens in Hallmark movies of the week.
Wouldn't I be so great in a Hallmark movie? Maybe they could do a spin off and do Shoebox movies! THAT would be the perfect venue for me!
A tiny little division of reality,
HP
Then look no further kids -- because I've just become a role model. Yup. Shaping tomorrow's leaders, that's me. Only on a much, much smaller scale -- I'm a pen pal to a fifth grade girl. Already the selective process has begun, I had to choose based on the name alone.
Let me throw a little background... My company has several local volunteer activities that it particpates in and one of them is a pen pal exchange with local students. I signed up several months ago because I thought it would be kind of fun to hear life from the elementary school vantage point. Perhaps take a wee bit of the edge off of old Heather and kick start that old biological clock. Who knows? Crazier things have happened. (Sidenote: It's not so much that I'm concerned that my biological clock isn't ticking as I am concerned that I'm not concerned. Or something.) Anyways, for some reason it kept getting put off. I almost forgot until I got an email today announcing that the program was finally getting underway. I thought we'd already have a letter, but apparently we have to kickstart the whole thing. There was a list of boys and girls at the elementary school that's participating in the program. Well, I didn't have anything to say to fifth grade boys when I was IN the fifth grade and turns out my feelings haven't much changed. (Although, don't I wish someone had said a thing or two to that lousy Sean whateverhislastnamewas?? He sure was mean to me and it wasn't all my fault I was chunky and geeky, was it?) So, I sorted through the list of names and I realized that we were supposed to decide based solely on NAME. That seems like a prejudicial thing, too. If you don't have a cool name or your name is too odd, you're back to being picked last in gym class again aren't you? I guess they don't know that, but I didn't much like it. And I got the girl with the coolest name anyways.
They had a Get to Know Your Pen Pal form that they encouraged us to use. It was crap. Here are some of the questions and some of the possible problems....
What college did you go to? You mean until I flunked out? Or rather, til I ran away across the country with a no good scum-sucking scumbag who wound up ruining my life? That story is probably best held off until the girl's teenage years, when she'll likely be able to relate.
What do you like best about your job? Why? It doesn't make me want to cry my heart out every day thinking about how I've sold my soul to the man as much as my last job did. That's not true, but even though I like my job and can explain to grown-ups what it is I like, an 11 year old girl will think that's the most boring thing in the world. I've already been rejected by 5th graders when I was IN the fifth grade, I'm not looking for a repeat performance. I want to pretend to be cool.
Please describe your family. We put the FUN in dysfunction! Do you know what dysfunctional means, honey? But seriously, how do you answer this question? I suppose it's applicable if you're like married with kids. Doesn't apply.
What kind of car do you drive? I hate this. I drive a Kia. And not even a fun Sportage, just a Spectra. A model that many people still don't even know exists. I know this because I look at automobile policies all day and I almost never see anyone with a Kia.
What kind of books do you like to read? How do you describe Chick Lit to an 11 year old? I like to read books about desperate yet spunky single girls who find love right under their noses just when they have decided they've given up on love.
But my PERSONAL favorite was What do you like to do in your spare time? It goes without saying that most of these things can't even be documented in the blog, so deep is my paranoia but definitely can't be recounted to a young girl. I like to whip up batches of Green Jesus and get my boyfriend to enforce them on my friends at parties where they are dressed in their pajamas.
Anyways. It should prove interesting. At the very least I may have fodder for my "column." At the very most I may learn a thing or two from this young girl. But, I really do think that only happens in Hallmark movies of the week.
Wouldn't I be so great in a Hallmark movie? Maybe they could do a spin off and do Shoebox movies! THAT would be the perfect venue for me!
A tiny little division of reality,
HP
Tips on how to get booty from Heather -- as inspired by Average Joe
Well, not really. But it seemed like a nice title. And there are some things that I realize about the beautiful Melana that I see in myself. Not the beautiful part, to be sure. But, I have often been seen as the cute, kinda ditzy (in a bitingly sarcastic way) girl. The party girl. I've never really been taken very seriously and a large part of that is the image that I project. I accept that I have created that fate... But. It's nice when I am taken seriously. When people listen to my opinions. Especially men. One of the things that initially attracted me to Scott was how he would talk to me about everything and actually seem to seek my opinion. And furthermore, actually seem to listen to my opinion and value it. That meant a lot to me, because I see him as being this incredibly smart guy who knows a lot about a lot of things.
I see this in Melana too. That she is attracted to the guys who treat her as something more than a beautiful girl. Tareq (far and away the intellectual "snob" of the group -- he's only 21 and is working on the dissertation for his Ph.D and has already been to over 60 countries) basically secured his spot in the final 6 when he said, "It is the simplicity of your complexity that is the catalyst for my attraction to you." Sure, he ate a dictionary for breakfast and was obviously burping it up, but that's just a sexy thing to say to someone. HP2 says that it was just a bullshit line -- and I say DUH! They're all bullshit lines, men just want to get in your pants until they're in them. They will say whatever they need to to get there. Then they cease trotting out the good lines until they want to get in your pants again. I'm honestly not even bitter about this anymore. I wish that it were possible to keep the lines in a bottle so you could open the bottle later on when the lines are few and far between, but it just doesn't work like that.
Anyways... I've veered way off course. The only major surprise is going to be is if she doesn't wind up with Zach. He's pretty much the stand-out of the group because he's pretty attractive. Most of these other guys were the ones who were (admittedly) picked last for most events in gym class and who've battled being different their whole lives -- he's the one they've been battling against. It's just that simple. And he's going to win again. She "feels natural" with him. Of course, he's attractive -- she's attractive. They have this connection over their chemistry. It's depressing. You want the Underdog to win the pretty girl and you just know it's not going to happen. I feel like that underdogs got cheated when the producers slipped in one purebred dog. His only redeeming quality is that he got all choked up when Dennis got voted off...
Ah, Dennis. He was EVERYONE'S favorite underdog. (Everyone except for Brad, the back-stabbing whacko who should've been cut.) He was a bit older than most of the other guys, his teeth were all the same size, and he was mostly deaf in both ears. I have a soft spot for people with hearing problems, I can't help it. Plus, he was just such a sweet guy. He would've given anything to help anyone. He even washed one of the guy's shirts in the first episode when Zach the Jerk cracked an egg on his head. (THAT guy got voted off tonight too -- he admitted to dunking Zach's toothbrush in the toilet the morning after that incident. Good!)
Yeah. I'm WAY too into this shit. Right now, I don't really have a favorite guy remaining. I was rooting pretty hard for John -- until he launched into his Vienna Boys Choir routine around the campfire. He was trying WAY too hard and it's painful. Particularly because Melana is never going to be mean to his face, but makes some disparaging comments on camera when they're not together. It was a slight mystery why she kept him, but I think it's just the guilt of the rejection. He's obviously so into her and she couldn't really care less. So, I guess I'm leaning towards Adam. Only because he made a very slight comment about how he was the one who was always picked last in gym class and how hard the rock-climbing date was for him. He really tried to do it and just couldn't make it. I related to that. He wasn't overly crushed by it but he wasn't trying to justify it either. So, we didn't really get more insight into him than that -- but I'm hoping he opens up more. John's going to have to work hard to overcome his over-eagerness. That's not something that's going to work on a girl like THAT (it works on me like a charm, but then again -- I've never really had anyone who was over-eager to be with me so maybe I just think it would work on me.), but then again who knows?
I have SO got to get a hobby. One thing I WAS right about -- she saved all the fat guys last time so she could eliminate 'em this time. No one over 200 lbs is left. It's kind of sad.
I'm off to concoct some more Average theories.
Well, not really. But it seemed like a nice title. And there are some things that I realize about the beautiful Melana that I see in myself. Not the beautiful part, to be sure. But, I have often been seen as the cute, kinda ditzy (in a bitingly sarcastic way) girl. The party girl. I've never really been taken very seriously and a large part of that is the image that I project. I accept that I have created that fate... But. It's nice when I am taken seriously. When people listen to my opinions. Especially men. One of the things that initially attracted me to Scott was how he would talk to me about everything and actually seem to seek my opinion. And furthermore, actually seem to listen to my opinion and value it. That meant a lot to me, because I see him as being this incredibly smart guy who knows a lot about a lot of things.
I see this in Melana too. That she is attracted to the guys who treat her as something more than a beautiful girl. Tareq (far and away the intellectual "snob" of the group -- he's only 21 and is working on the dissertation for his Ph.D and has already been to over 60 countries) basically secured his spot in the final 6 when he said, "It is the simplicity of your complexity that is the catalyst for my attraction to you." Sure, he ate a dictionary for breakfast and was obviously burping it up, but that's just a sexy thing to say to someone. HP2 says that it was just a bullshit line -- and I say DUH! They're all bullshit lines, men just want to get in your pants until they're in them. They will say whatever they need to to get there. Then they cease trotting out the good lines until they want to get in your pants again. I'm honestly not even bitter about this anymore. I wish that it were possible to keep the lines in a bottle so you could open the bottle later on when the lines are few and far between, but it just doesn't work like that.
Anyways... I've veered way off course. The only major surprise is going to be is if she doesn't wind up with Zach. He's pretty much the stand-out of the group because he's pretty attractive. Most of these other guys were the ones who were (admittedly) picked last for most events in gym class and who've battled being different their whole lives -- he's the one they've been battling against. It's just that simple. And he's going to win again. She "feels natural" with him. Of course, he's attractive -- she's attractive. They have this connection over their chemistry. It's depressing. You want the Underdog to win the pretty girl and you just know it's not going to happen. I feel like that underdogs got cheated when the producers slipped in one purebred dog. His only redeeming quality is that he got all choked up when Dennis got voted off...
Ah, Dennis. He was EVERYONE'S favorite underdog. (Everyone except for Brad, the back-stabbing whacko who should've been cut.) He was a bit older than most of the other guys, his teeth were all the same size, and he was mostly deaf in both ears. I have a soft spot for people with hearing problems, I can't help it. Plus, he was just such a sweet guy. He would've given anything to help anyone. He even washed one of the guy's shirts in the first episode when Zach the Jerk cracked an egg on his head. (THAT guy got voted off tonight too -- he admitted to dunking Zach's toothbrush in the toilet the morning after that incident. Good!)
Yeah. I'm WAY too into this shit. Right now, I don't really have a favorite guy remaining. I was rooting pretty hard for John -- until he launched into his Vienna Boys Choir routine around the campfire. He was trying WAY too hard and it's painful. Particularly because Melana is never going to be mean to his face, but makes some disparaging comments on camera when they're not together. It was a slight mystery why she kept him, but I think it's just the guilt of the rejection. He's obviously so into her and she couldn't really care less. So, I guess I'm leaning towards Adam. Only because he made a very slight comment about how he was the one who was always picked last in gym class and how hard the rock-climbing date was for him. He really tried to do it and just couldn't make it. I related to that. He wasn't overly crushed by it but he wasn't trying to justify it either. So, we didn't really get more insight into him than that -- but I'm hoping he opens up more. John's going to have to work hard to overcome his over-eagerness. That's not something that's going to work on a girl like THAT (it works on me like a charm, but then again -- I've never really had anyone who was over-eager to be with me so maybe I just think it would work on me.), but then again who knows?
I have SO got to get a hobby. One thing I WAS right about -- she saved all the fat guys last time so she could eliminate 'em this time. No one over 200 lbs is left. It's kind of sad.
I'm off to concoct some more Average theories.
Sunday, November 09, 2003
Weekend Highlights, literally
So, I didn't even mention that I was at the hairdressers because I was revamping my highlights. Wound up having a significant portion of my hair hacked off too. I really like it. I think it makes it a lot bouncier, which suits my personality (on the 10 1/2 days per month that I'm actually in a good mood). I don't think that Scott is crazy about the shortness, but the nice thing is that when I like my hair enough then I don't need the validation at all. It's VERY unusual for me to not need the validation, so that means I really like the hair.
We went on a double date last night with my friend Karey and her boyfriend Kevin. We went to a bar for karaoke and I'm really starting to realize how old I am when I go out. After a while, the loud music and all the smoke really gets on me. And I'm still a social smoker, but barely. I smoke just enough that I feel silly for still doing it. But, I digress. None of us wound up singing, just wound up going back to Scott's place to hang out and play drunk Jenga apparently. That was weird. I was essentially mocked for not having participated in too many drinking games. And now here I am going back to college and still missing out on all that!
Today, I went over and helped my friends Dave and Jen (sorry guys, I know you prefer the full-length version of your names but it's just not going to happen from me) try to get their house ready to be moved into next weekend. I did very little but they were apparently grateful even for the pathetically small amount of stuff I did. That's what was so hard for me when other people tried to help me do things in my house. I knew they wanted to be helpful and I knew I wanted their help but if I had to tell them exactly where I wanted everything and how I wanted it all the time, then I might as well do it myself. You feel like you WANT to help but you feel so powerless because no matter how you do someone else's stuff, it's just not going to be to their complete satisfaction. Still, they made me actively pine to have a house that I was attached to and wanted to fix up. I instantly began coveting a house project. It's ridiculous. I have at least 10 cosmetic things I could do around here and that's just from the top of my head. But, I don't love this house and I never will. It just doesn't feel like HOME. I don't walk in the door and breathe a sigh of relief... I wonder how soon I can get out and do something again. It's sad. I always thought that I would wind up being a putterer. Becoming an HGTV addict and learning how to do things and so forth. I never did.
So, even knowing that it's within my power to do all of the stuff that they are doing around their house, I still can't get motivated to do it here. I do know that I will never buy a house again that I don't love enough to take care of. I think that Scott has the putterer desire too and has done some minor things around his house, but he also hasn't done as many things as he would like to do. I don't think it goes to the bizarre level of him not being attached to his house, because he seems to like it a lot -- I'm not really sure what his reason is. Finances, perhaps -- because that's part of mine. Plus, I always envisioned myself puttering WITH someone. Getting into home projects together and learning how to do things and then actually doing them.
It's love, Home Depot style.
I think that the advent of all the fixer-up shows that focus on couples (Trading Spaces, While You Were Out and Designing for the Sexes to name a few) has created this vision that that's what domestic bliss really means. Plus I grew up watching my parents do things together... Well, my mom nagged my dad into doing various projects and he just went along.
It's funny because even though Home Depot is the "man store", it's creation was really necessitated by a bunch of women bugging their significant others to do projects around the house...
Anyways, I'm rambling into overtime now and Carnivale will be on any minute. It's still really weird and I still don't really get it. I imagine they'll be getting ready to cancel it by the time I figure out if I really like it or not!
HP
So, I didn't even mention that I was at the hairdressers because I was revamping my highlights. Wound up having a significant portion of my hair hacked off too. I really like it. I think it makes it a lot bouncier, which suits my personality (on the 10 1/2 days per month that I'm actually in a good mood). I don't think that Scott is crazy about the shortness, but the nice thing is that when I like my hair enough then I don't need the validation at all. It's VERY unusual for me to not need the validation, so that means I really like the hair.
We went on a double date last night with my friend Karey and her boyfriend Kevin. We went to a bar for karaoke and I'm really starting to realize how old I am when I go out. After a while, the loud music and all the smoke really gets on me. And I'm still a social smoker, but barely. I smoke just enough that I feel silly for still doing it. But, I digress. None of us wound up singing, just wound up going back to Scott's place to hang out and play drunk Jenga apparently. That was weird. I was essentially mocked for not having participated in too many drinking games. And now here I am going back to college and still missing out on all that!
Today, I went over and helped my friends Dave and Jen (sorry guys, I know you prefer the full-length version of your names but it's just not going to happen from me) try to get their house ready to be moved into next weekend. I did very little but they were apparently grateful even for the pathetically small amount of stuff I did. That's what was so hard for me when other people tried to help me do things in my house. I knew they wanted to be helpful and I knew I wanted their help but if I had to tell them exactly where I wanted everything and how I wanted it all the time, then I might as well do it myself. You feel like you WANT to help but you feel so powerless because no matter how you do someone else's stuff, it's just not going to be to their complete satisfaction. Still, they made me actively pine to have a house that I was attached to and wanted to fix up. I instantly began coveting a house project. It's ridiculous. I have at least 10 cosmetic things I could do around here and that's just from the top of my head. But, I don't love this house and I never will. It just doesn't feel like HOME. I don't walk in the door and breathe a sigh of relief... I wonder how soon I can get out and do something again. It's sad. I always thought that I would wind up being a putterer. Becoming an HGTV addict and learning how to do things and so forth. I never did.
So, even knowing that it's within my power to do all of the stuff that they are doing around their house, I still can't get motivated to do it here. I do know that I will never buy a house again that I don't love enough to take care of. I think that Scott has the putterer desire too and has done some minor things around his house, but he also hasn't done as many things as he would like to do. I don't think it goes to the bizarre level of him not being attached to his house, because he seems to like it a lot -- I'm not really sure what his reason is. Finances, perhaps -- because that's part of mine. Plus, I always envisioned myself puttering WITH someone. Getting into home projects together and learning how to do things and then actually doing them.
It's love, Home Depot style.
I think that the advent of all the fixer-up shows that focus on couples (Trading Spaces, While You Were Out and Designing for the Sexes to name a few) has created this vision that that's what domestic bliss really means. Plus I grew up watching my parents do things together... Well, my mom nagged my dad into doing various projects and he just went along.
It's funny because even though Home Depot is the "man store", it's creation was really necessitated by a bunch of women bugging their significant others to do projects around the house...
Anyways, I'm rambling into overtime now and Carnivale will be on any minute. It's still really weird and I still don't really get it. I imagine they'll be getting ready to cancel it by the time I figure out if I really like it or not!
HP
Saturday, November 08, 2003
I have to get ready for my evening, but needed to throw some randoms out...
Was at the hair salon today and saw the ugliest woman I have ever seen in my life. I always feel sorry for people who are just empirically unatractive. What is there to work with there? Wax your brows, babe -- at least then you'll have two. My goodness. I hate to be so cruel but she was ugly and then she had the ugly girl personality that goes along with it. Whining about how mistreated she is by the world and the little things that people in her office do that just bug her. Not to mention how she got into the lengthy discussion about how implanting computer chips into children is a good thing because then they can never really be lost.
O-kay.
Also, I realized last night that old people will keep all you can eat cheapie buffets alive forever. Here's why... As our grandparents slowly pass away, we will start going to those kind of places out of nostalgia for the days that Nana took us there... Next thing you know -- we're the old people at the Country Kitchen Buffet. It just happens.
Note to the few men out there -- if your wife/girlfriend/significant other says that they are starting to look old, this is NOT an invitation to not only agree, but point out in exactly what ways they are starting to look old. This is a plea for a relatively sincere sounding statement that we look younger every day and by God you must have found the fountain of youth baby!
My apologies to Dave for not giving him his props for actually commenting on my Richie Riches piece. I think I was still in shell shock from his suggestion that I read something that doesn't involve single British or Irish girls trying to get laid. I mean, seriously -- has he met me??
Look for a review of Rose's search for love via booty networking, coming soon to a blog near you!
Ciao!
Was at the hair salon today and saw the ugliest woman I have ever seen in my life. I always feel sorry for people who are just empirically unatractive. What is there to work with there? Wax your brows, babe -- at least then you'll have two. My goodness. I hate to be so cruel but she was ugly and then she had the ugly girl personality that goes along with it. Whining about how mistreated she is by the world and the little things that people in her office do that just bug her. Not to mention how she got into the lengthy discussion about how implanting computer chips into children is a good thing because then they can never really be lost.
O-kay.
Also, I realized last night that old people will keep all you can eat cheapie buffets alive forever. Here's why... As our grandparents slowly pass away, we will start going to those kind of places out of nostalgia for the days that Nana took us there... Next thing you know -- we're the old people at the Country Kitchen Buffet. It just happens.
Note to the few men out there -- if your wife/girlfriend/significant other says that they are starting to look old, this is NOT an invitation to not only agree, but point out in exactly what ways they are starting to look old. This is a plea for a relatively sincere sounding statement that we look younger every day and by God you must have found the fountain of youth baby!
My apologies to Dave for not giving him his props for actually commenting on my Richie Riches piece. I think I was still in shell shock from his suggestion that I read something that doesn't involve single British or Irish girls trying to get laid. I mean, seriously -- has he met me??
Look for a review of Rose's search for love via booty networking, coming soon to a blog near you!
Ciao!
Friday, November 07, 2003
Guess what your neighbors are studying, Katrina?
Oh my God, oh my GOD! The things I learn from stumbling across random blogs.
This is going to seem too dirty and ridiculous to be true. The "study" was done by NC State. Seriously, how exactly was this study done? Who put together the research? A man, I'm guessing. It sounds like something you'd find in The Onion, NOT cnn.com.
I mean, the woman used fellate as a VERB. Is it a verb??
What a weird way to start my day!
And the worst part is that I can't go chit-chatting with my cube partner about it because that's the fast track to the unemployment line, isn't it?
PLEASE comment on this... How can you NOT comment on this??
Oh my God, oh my GOD! The things I learn from stumbling across random blogs.
This is going to seem too dirty and ridiculous to be true. The "study" was done by NC State. Seriously, how exactly was this study done? Who put together the research? A man, I'm guessing. It sounds like something you'd find in The Onion, NOT cnn.com.
I mean, the woman used fellate as a VERB. Is it a verb??
What a weird way to start my day!
And the worst part is that I can't go chit-chatting with my cube partner about it because that's the fast track to the unemployment line, isn't it?
PLEASE comment on this... How can you NOT comment on this??
Thursday, November 06, 2003
"sunshine coming out of your ass"
Sometimes I think rain is God's way of being melodramatic. (I don't care about the meteorological explanation for rain -- I think that pollen is flammable for pity's sake. Don't ask.)
God looks down from his little vantage point and sees us little humans living our little human lives and not appreciating all the sunshine we've got coming out of our asses... So, he thinks, "Piss on you for just expecting me to HAND you all this useless beauty."
And then he does.
I've gone and found my own silver lining at a fairly ironic time... It's like this... I have these bumps and frustrations and bullshit in my life to appreciate how great my life was before. I wasn't unhappy before these things happen and I have to step back and realize that this one thing hasn't completely upset my universe to the point that I can't be happy ever again. I'm just not extremely happy right now. That's all.
And that's okay. Believe it or not, I do not expect to be happy all of the time. I like it when I am, I don't like it when I'm not -- I think that's normal. I don't feel like I've been "cheated" when I'm not happy. I just want the happy part to start up again.
And you know what? It usually does. Tony Kahlua will make a joke an unexpected time. Rose will call when I'm not expecting it. Scout actually makes plans and sticks to them. A customer will be particularly friendly and appreciative of my help. Scott will ask me if I've lost weight.
I'm a drama queen. I don't like it. I've toned it down A LOT, and there are many who have (somehow) lived through some of my high drama days who can tell the tale about how much more dramatic I have been. The work disappointments that threw me into black moods that would last for weeks. The break-ups that I didn't want to get out of bed over, sometimes so much so that I would pop a few Tylenol PM in the morning to prevent myself from waking up. The fights with friends that pretty much kept Verizon in business because of all the back and forth sharing of details. Drama drama drama.
I hate it. You hate it. They hate it. But, it's a gene that never really dies. It calms down with age. But PMS and 2 or 3 other silly things in a row can cause it to perk its head up, adjust its tiara and say, "You called?"
But, piss on it. The sun's gonna shine out of my behind one way or another. And if the people stare, then the people stare. I really don't know, I really don't care.
Sorry, those Smiths' references will get the better of you, won't they?
So, the next time it's raining and you're crabby and owly because you're wishing you could just go outside without having to get cold and soaked... Well, appreciate all the days it wasn't raining before that, okay?
I know I will.
Sometimes I think rain is God's way of being melodramatic. (I don't care about the meteorological explanation for rain -- I think that pollen is flammable for pity's sake. Don't ask.)
God looks down from his little vantage point and sees us little humans living our little human lives and not appreciating all the sunshine we've got coming out of our asses... So, he thinks, "Piss on you for just expecting me to HAND you all this useless beauty."
And then he does.
I've gone and found my own silver lining at a fairly ironic time... It's like this... I have these bumps and frustrations and bullshit in my life to appreciate how great my life was before. I wasn't unhappy before these things happen and I have to step back and realize that this one thing hasn't completely upset my universe to the point that I can't be happy ever again. I'm just not extremely happy right now. That's all.
And that's okay. Believe it or not, I do not expect to be happy all of the time. I like it when I am, I don't like it when I'm not -- I think that's normal. I don't feel like I've been "cheated" when I'm not happy. I just want the happy part to start up again.
And you know what? It usually does. Tony Kahlua will make a joke an unexpected time. Rose will call when I'm not expecting it. Scout actually makes plans and sticks to them. A customer will be particularly friendly and appreciative of my help. Scott will ask me if I've lost weight.
I'm a drama queen. I don't like it. I've toned it down A LOT, and there are many who have (somehow) lived through some of my high drama days who can tell the tale about how much more dramatic I have been. The work disappointments that threw me into black moods that would last for weeks. The break-ups that I didn't want to get out of bed over, sometimes so much so that I would pop a few Tylenol PM in the morning to prevent myself from waking up. The fights with friends that pretty much kept Verizon in business because of all the back and forth sharing of details. Drama drama drama.
I hate it. You hate it. They hate it. But, it's a gene that never really dies. It calms down with age. But PMS and 2 or 3 other silly things in a row can cause it to perk its head up, adjust its tiara and say, "You called?"
But, piss on it. The sun's gonna shine out of my behind one way or another. And if the people stare, then the people stare. I really don't know, I really don't care.
Sorry, those Smiths' references will get the better of you, won't they?
So, the next time it's raining and you're crabby and owly because you're wishing you could just go outside without having to get cold and soaked... Well, appreciate all the days it wasn't raining before that, okay?
I know I will.
Am I blue? So what if I am??
I would like to think that I am the kind of person who takes disappointment well. There's the initial reaction of shock and disappointment, which is followed closely by drinking and chain-smoking which is gradually followed by passing out, hangover then acceptance. (I'm mostly kidding.)
I guess it depends on the level of disappointment. Minor things I take in stride pretty well, I think. I do some whining, bitching, moaning and complaining. Often will get a little teary but usually pretty fiery. And then I make my peace with whatever the disappointing thing is and move on. Although, it will typically take a little while for the snarky comments post-disappointment to drop. Sarcasm is my defense mechanism of choice, accept THAT or please keep moving. This is not the booth for you.
So, I've had a couple of minor disappointments in a row and so my game is a little off. Add a dash of PMS and you have Heather who is in need of a quart of Ben & Jerry's and big hugs. Awww.... Poor Heather -- you deserve better than these minor disappointments, don't you??
I admit it, I like to be mollycoddled sometimes. I do not view this as a character flaw. I do not look on pity as being a bad thing. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be pitied daily. There's no need for that. I have food (well, questionable -- but I have phone service so I can always dial Papa John's), shelter, employment, blah blah blah...
But then again, don't you hate that shit too? People trying to point out your damned silver linings when you just want to have a pity me day? Can't they just let it go for ONE day? If I am still pouting 24 hours after initial receipt of minorly disappointing news, then YES! Wrap me up in my silver linings and hang me from the rafters for not appreciating them, but can you give me a minute?? Is it so wrong for me to feel disappointment? Just because the stuff that happens isn't catastrophically awful doesn't mean that I can't feel a little bit bad about it, right? I'm entitled. No one begrudges me the other range of emotions when BIG things happen, right? The minor things deserve to be recognized. They've done their part to interrupt your life a little, you deserve to show them their propers by being a little down.
I'm not going to justify it any longer. It is what it is. I'm having a pout and that's all. I'll be pout free and back to my typical Pollyanna with serious attitude tomorrow.
But tonight -- funk city! <--- Was that a disco song? If not, we should revive disco just so we can write it!
HP
I would like to think that I am the kind of person who takes disappointment well. There's the initial reaction of shock and disappointment, which is followed closely by drinking and chain-smoking which is gradually followed by passing out, hangover then acceptance. (I'm mostly kidding.)
I guess it depends on the level of disappointment. Minor things I take in stride pretty well, I think. I do some whining, bitching, moaning and complaining. Often will get a little teary but usually pretty fiery. And then I make my peace with whatever the disappointing thing is and move on. Although, it will typically take a little while for the snarky comments post-disappointment to drop. Sarcasm is my defense mechanism of choice, accept THAT or please keep moving. This is not the booth for you.
So, I've had a couple of minor disappointments in a row and so my game is a little off. Add a dash of PMS and you have Heather who is in need of a quart of Ben & Jerry's and big hugs. Awww.... Poor Heather -- you deserve better than these minor disappointments, don't you??
I admit it, I like to be mollycoddled sometimes. I do not view this as a character flaw. I do not look on pity as being a bad thing. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be pitied daily. There's no need for that. I have food (well, questionable -- but I have phone service so I can always dial Papa John's), shelter, employment, blah blah blah...
But then again, don't you hate that shit too? People trying to point out your damned silver linings when you just want to have a pity me day? Can't they just let it go for ONE day? If I am still pouting 24 hours after initial receipt of minorly disappointing news, then YES! Wrap me up in my silver linings and hang me from the rafters for not appreciating them, but can you give me a minute?? Is it so wrong for me to feel disappointment? Just because the stuff that happens isn't catastrophically awful doesn't mean that I can't feel a little bit bad about it, right? I'm entitled. No one begrudges me the other range of emotions when BIG things happen, right? The minor things deserve to be recognized. They've done their part to interrupt your life a little, you deserve to show them their propers by being a little down.
I'm not going to justify it any longer. It is what it is. I'm having a pout and that's all. I'll be pout free and back to my typical Pollyanna with serious attitude tomorrow.
But tonight -- funk city! <--- Was that a disco song? If not, we should revive disco just so we can write it!
HP
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
one fish, two fish
Some random things that I have thought about and wanted to blog about but haven't had the energy to devote one entire blog to...
I heard on the radio this morning some new theory that Oprah stresses people out. They see how there's all these things they could be doing or should be doing to improve their lives and it's not possible to do it and they're stressed out. Yeah. Ok. I've watched Oprah plenty and I never felt stressed out. I felt REALLY poor, but not stressed out.
The Average Joe chick strives to be better than she is. She's trying to act like she's this really nice person underneath her paper thin facade and I'm not buying it. Not til she falls in love with the fat guy. Or the guy whose teeth are all the same size. I was expounding on some of my "theories" to HP2 and she was (mock?) impressed that I had these theories. I realized I need to get a life.
Scott has this thing that he does, when I say how much something costs he will follow the amount with AMERICAN?! In faux shock. For example.
Me: My roots are a mess and I'm saving to get my highlights done before it becomes a Greek tragic situation.
Scott: Uh-huh (feigning interest) -- and how much would something like that cost? The highlight thing?
me: $55 (grossly undercutting what the REAL cost is out of shame)
Scott: AMERICAN?!
My friend in Korea, Kiosk, thought this was somehow for her benefit. So she wouldn't think I was talking about some other country's currency. (I referenced this joke in my Richie Rich blog) Which brings to mind an interesting point. When he says AMERICAN?! I would like to retort with some other country's currency that's worth very little but I don't know any other country's currency, because well. I'm dumb and I don't go anywhere. I would prefer an obscure country, like Chandler's favorite Yemen. AMERICAN?! No! YEMEN!
Not much feedback on the Richie Riches "piece." Fame and fortune are ever elusive Siamese twins slipping from my grasp.
Ick, when I attempt to be symbolic that desperately it's time to go to bed and finish this crappy (and it's compellingly crappy, but crappy nonetheless) Candace Bushness novel 4 Blondes. Don't read it. Ever. It's just not very good. The problem is it's not bad enough to make me stop reading. And I want to.
your AMERICAN?! idol,
HP
Some random things that I have thought about and wanted to blog about but haven't had the energy to devote one entire blog to...
I heard on the radio this morning some new theory that Oprah stresses people out. They see how there's all these things they could be doing or should be doing to improve their lives and it's not possible to do it and they're stressed out. Yeah. Ok. I've watched Oprah plenty and I never felt stressed out. I felt REALLY poor, but not stressed out.
The Average Joe chick strives to be better than she is. She's trying to act like she's this really nice person underneath her paper thin facade and I'm not buying it. Not til she falls in love with the fat guy. Or the guy whose teeth are all the same size. I was expounding on some of my "theories" to HP2 and she was (mock?) impressed that I had these theories. I realized I need to get a life.
Scott has this thing that he does, when I say how much something costs he will follow the amount with AMERICAN?! In faux shock. For example.
Me: My roots are a mess and I'm saving to get my highlights done before it becomes a Greek tragic situation.
Scott: Uh-huh (feigning interest) -- and how much would something like that cost? The highlight thing?
me: $55 (grossly undercutting what the REAL cost is out of shame)
Scott: AMERICAN?!
My friend in Korea, Kiosk, thought this was somehow for her benefit. So she wouldn't think I was talking about some other country's currency. (I referenced this joke in my Richie Rich blog) Which brings to mind an interesting point. When he says AMERICAN?! I would like to retort with some other country's currency that's worth very little but I don't know any other country's currency, because well. I'm dumb and I don't go anywhere. I would prefer an obscure country, like Chandler's favorite Yemen. AMERICAN?! No! YEMEN!
Not much feedback on the Richie Riches "piece." Fame and fortune are ever elusive Siamese twins slipping from my grasp.
Ick, when I attempt to be symbolic that desperately it's time to go to bed and finish this crappy (and it's compellingly crappy, but crappy nonetheless) Candace Bushness novel 4 Blondes. Don't read it. Ever. It's just not very good. The problem is it's not bad enough to make me stop reading. And I want to.
your AMERICAN?! idol,
HP
"...looking for ideas"
The above comes from one of my favorite comedian schpiels... Why do adults always ask little kids what they want to be? Because they are looking for ideas. "Hmmm, a ballerina you say? Maybe I could do that TOO!"
This is where I am. I'm now facing the daunting task of taking classes that I may have to do real work in. It's not that there's no work in the class I'm taking now, but as expected I'm just not incredibly motivated because I'm taking the class online. Most of the time, I'm in my pajama's and it's the night before the assignment's due and I'm spewing out half-cocked answers to the assignments just so I can get credit.
Little has changed since my last educational foray.
It's time to sign up for classes for the Spring and I have no idea what I want to take. Other than something easy that doesn't require me to read or write a lot of big words. Or anything boring. As it turns out, this is not as easy as it sounds. I know that this is shocking to... well, no one.
I've thought about Poly Sci but I'm not political and the thought of having to develop opinions on current events hurts my head. We've already discussed my level of ignorance on this subject, there's no reason to cause me further undue pain by going into it again. I've also thought about Philosophy, but I'm not very deep either. I'm so shallow that I didn't even fully understand the course DESCRIPTION. I've thought about History, but that stuff is so old. (That was a joke, for those of you in the cheap seats.) I've thought about Public Speaking and was pretty excited about that prospect but then I realized that I would have to listen to OTHER people talk, too. Not so interesting to me, as it turns out.
I need to get some English and Math stuff out of the way, but I have to go to a placement test for that and I don't have time. Plus they want $4 (AMERICAN!) to tell me how dumb I am and how they're not sure that I have the skills necessary to balance a checkbook... Much less spell checkbook. Not really interested in that, either.
But, it's midnight. I'll have to make to think about it again tomorrow. After all, :::swooning::: tomorrow is another day!
The above comes from one of my favorite comedian schpiels... Why do adults always ask little kids what they want to be? Because they are looking for ideas. "Hmmm, a ballerina you say? Maybe I could do that TOO!"
This is where I am. I'm now facing the daunting task of taking classes that I may have to do real work in. It's not that there's no work in the class I'm taking now, but as expected I'm just not incredibly motivated because I'm taking the class online. Most of the time, I'm in my pajama's and it's the night before the assignment's due and I'm spewing out half-cocked answers to the assignments just so I can get credit.
Little has changed since my last educational foray.
It's time to sign up for classes for the Spring and I have no idea what I want to take. Other than something easy that doesn't require me to read or write a lot of big words. Or anything boring. As it turns out, this is not as easy as it sounds. I know that this is shocking to... well, no one.
I've thought about Poly Sci but I'm not political and the thought of having to develop opinions on current events hurts my head. We've already discussed my level of ignorance on this subject, there's no reason to cause me further undue pain by going into it again. I've also thought about Philosophy, but I'm not very deep either. I'm so shallow that I didn't even fully understand the course DESCRIPTION. I've thought about History, but that stuff is so old. (That was a joke, for those of you in the cheap seats.) I've thought about Public Speaking and was pretty excited about that prospect but then I realized that I would have to listen to OTHER people talk, too. Not so interesting to me, as it turns out.
I need to get some English and Math stuff out of the way, but I have to go to a placement test for that and I don't have time. Plus they want $4 (AMERICAN!) to tell me how dumb I am and how they're not sure that I have the skills necessary to balance a checkbook... Much less spell checkbook. Not really interested in that, either.
But, it's midnight. I'll have to make to think about it again tomorrow. After all, :::swooning::: tomorrow is another day!
Sunday, November 02, 2003
Richie Riches
I just watched the America Undercover special on HBO, Born Rich. It was very interesting... One thing that I am definitely guilty of is pigeon-holing rich people into this category of people who must be happy because they have money. The fact of the matter is that when you are brought up without riches then you have to figure out what you want to do to accomplish having money in your life. Finding that thing that brings you enough money to live satisfactorily makes most people "happy." But, what if you don't have to find "that thing"? Then what?
Some background about the show... The heir to the Johnson & Johnson fortune wanted to do this documentary about what it was like to grow up rich because he was brought up to believe that you don't talk about money... So, no one ever does. I, myself, who have NO money have often said that money is the last sacred subject in our society. I have very little idea what any of my friends make annually, although they probably know fairly well what I make because I'm at the starting point of my career and it was a oft-discussed topic when I made the career change... The salary I would be receiving because it was a step down from my last job. I really don't know how my parents are doing financially nor any of my other relatives for that matter. I know they're not broke -- but I don't know HOW not broke they are, if that makes any sense. But, I digress. So, this heir wanted to make the movie and his father was very much against it, said that he would have a hard time agreeing to talk about money and how it affects their lives. But he did manage to get 10 "rich kids" (MASSIVE understatement) to talk about what it's like to know that you don't HAVE to work ever.
It was very interesting, actually. I did find myself repeatedly inwardly snorting, "Yeah like that's so rough." Things like how awkward it was for Josiah Hornblower to find out that he owned Grand Central Station. (He actually rides the subway everywhere versus taking limo's, which I thought was kind of quaint.) Or the director Jamie Johnson talking about how his grandfather didn't want the family working at Johnson & Johnson, so as a result he's not entitled to buy their products in the company store as an "employee" and get 50% off... He pays retail for band-aids that have his name on them. On the one hand you think, well it's not like he can't afford it! But on the other, that's a little odd, right?
They all go to party at the same place in the Hamptons and some of them were complaining about the fact that they keep going to this same club over and over again. The club's owner was explaining that there was a 2 bottle minimum per table, and the minimum cost per bottle was $250! American. It takes me a full working week to earn what they spend in one night out drinking. That definitely caused me to lose some sympathy. So, many stereotypes were repeatedly reinforced. Ivanka Trump has a "rich" voice. (I can't explain this without audio, but if you know me and you want to hear what that sounds like... Gimme a call and I'll do an impression. If not, think about someone who has friends named Buffy and uses the word summer as a verb and you've got an idea of the inflection that I'm referring to.) They don't date outside of their rich kids circle, because their lifestyle would be too hard to explain -- not to mention the infernal problem of the Pre-nup, the importance of which they are VERY in tune with since it's been drilled into their heads from a very young age.
Some of the more interesting comments came from the directors asking point blank questions. Like, what would you do if you actually had your hands on all the money you're supposed to inherit? Juliet Hartford (who was heiress to some fortune I don't even remember) said, "I'd give it all to the homeless!" And then laughed hysterically as if this were a ridiculous concept. (It was a "rich" laugh too -- ha! ha! ha! Good one chap!) Luke Weil (more on him in a minute, he's the heir some gaming industry thing), when asked about the guilt associated with having all of that money, said that guilt was for "old women and nuns." O-kay.
He actually tried to legally prevent Jamie Johnson from releasing the film with him in it. He claimed that his signature was asked for "sheepishly and submissively" or something and he didn't really know that he was agreeing. In other words, hey sign this -- it doesn't really mean anything, I just need it for the people. Jamie's lawyer said tha the "irony of making a movie about wealthy people is that their very wealth allows them to have the money to sue you if they are unhappy with what you say." I thought that was one of the best parts! It's funny because it's true!
All of the reviews I have read keep focusing on how the movie wraps with Jamie's big 21st birthday celebration, which is basically done in the style of a 1920's flapper era kind of theme. There's champagne everywhere and the rich kids are laughing and having a grand time foo-fooing one another... But I hardly noticed it because while you see all of this pomp and decadence, Jamie's making his summarizing comments in the voiceover. And the most profound remark was "what you inherit may not be as valuable as what you earn." And I thought, wow. It's true that it's a "poor little rich boy" Charles Dickens kind of life lesson, but it's absolutely true.
I still don't feel sorry for people that were born into billionaire inheritances, but if they wanted to pay me to have pity I might be willing to work that out....
I just watched the America Undercover special on HBO, Born Rich. It was very interesting... One thing that I am definitely guilty of is pigeon-holing rich people into this category of people who must be happy because they have money. The fact of the matter is that when you are brought up without riches then you have to figure out what you want to do to accomplish having money in your life. Finding that thing that brings you enough money to live satisfactorily makes most people "happy." But, what if you don't have to find "that thing"? Then what?
Some background about the show... The heir to the Johnson & Johnson fortune wanted to do this documentary about what it was like to grow up rich because he was brought up to believe that you don't talk about money... So, no one ever does. I, myself, who have NO money have often said that money is the last sacred subject in our society. I have very little idea what any of my friends make annually, although they probably know fairly well what I make because I'm at the starting point of my career and it was a oft-discussed topic when I made the career change... The salary I would be receiving because it was a step down from my last job. I really don't know how my parents are doing financially nor any of my other relatives for that matter. I know they're not broke -- but I don't know HOW not broke they are, if that makes any sense. But, I digress. So, this heir wanted to make the movie and his father was very much against it, said that he would have a hard time agreeing to talk about money and how it affects their lives. But he did manage to get 10 "rich kids" (MASSIVE understatement) to talk about what it's like to know that you don't HAVE to work ever.
It was very interesting, actually. I did find myself repeatedly inwardly snorting, "Yeah like that's so rough." Things like how awkward it was for Josiah Hornblower to find out that he owned Grand Central Station. (He actually rides the subway everywhere versus taking limo's, which I thought was kind of quaint.) Or the director Jamie Johnson talking about how his grandfather didn't want the family working at Johnson & Johnson, so as a result he's not entitled to buy their products in the company store as an "employee" and get 50% off... He pays retail for band-aids that have his name on them. On the one hand you think, well it's not like he can't afford it! But on the other, that's a little odd, right?
They all go to party at the same place in the Hamptons and some of them were complaining about the fact that they keep going to this same club over and over again. The club's owner was explaining that there was a 2 bottle minimum per table, and the minimum cost per bottle was $250! American. It takes me a full working week to earn what they spend in one night out drinking. That definitely caused me to lose some sympathy. So, many stereotypes were repeatedly reinforced. Ivanka Trump has a "rich" voice. (I can't explain this without audio, but if you know me and you want to hear what that sounds like... Gimme a call and I'll do an impression. If not, think about someone who has friends named Buffy and uses the word summer as a verb and you've got an idea of the inflection that I'm referring to.) They don't date outside of their rich kids circle, because their lifestyle would be too hard to explain -- not to mention the infernal problem of the Pre-nup, the importance of which they are VERY in tune with since it's been drilled into their heads from a very young age.
Some of the more interesting comments came from the directors asking point blank questions. Like, what would you do if you actually had your hands on all the money you're supposed to inherit? Juliet Hartford (who was heiress to some fortune I don't even remember) said, "I'd give it all to the homeless!" And then laughed hysterically as if this were a ridiculous concept. (It was a "rich" laugh too -- ha! ha! ha! Good one chap!) Luke Weil (more on him in a minute, he's the heir some gaming industry thing), when asked about the guilt associated with having all of that money, said that guilt was for "old women and nuns." O-kay.
He actually tried to legally prevent Jamie Johnson from releasing the film with him in it. He claimed that his signature was asked for "sheepishly and submissively" or something and he didn't really know that he was agreeing. In other words, hey sign this -- it doesn't really mean anything, I just need it for the people. Jamie's lawyer said tha the "irony of making a movie about wealthy people is that their very wealth allows them to have the money to sue you if they are unhappy with what you say." I thought that was one of the best parts! It's funny because it's true!
All of the reviews I have read keep focusing on how the movie wraps with Jamie's big 21st birthday celebration, which is basically done in the style of a 1920's flapper era kind of theme. There's champagne everywhere and the rich kids are laughing and having a grand time foo-fooing one another... But I hardly noticed it because while you see all of this pomp and decadence, Jamie's making his summarizing comments in the voiceover. And the most profound remark was "what you inherit may not be as valuable as what you earn." And I thought, wow. It's true that it's a "poor little rich boy" Charles Dickens kind of life lesson, but it's absolutely true.
I still don't feel sorry for people that were born into billionaire inheritances, but if they wanted to pay me to have pity I might be willing to work that out....
WE JUST HIT 1000!
So, the statistics are in and I just happened to check them when it shows 1000 hits! I don't know how I made it to this point, but thanks to everyone who may have made that possible!
I realize it's only about 20 people who have read the blog 50 times, but I'm willing to take what I can get!!
Thanks!
So, the statistics are in and I just happened to check them when it shows 1000 hits! I don't know how I made it to this point, but thanks to everyone who may have made that possible!
I realize it's only about 20 people who have read the blog 50 times, but I'm willing to take what I can get!!
Thanks!
Saturday, November 01, 2003
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