Musings of a Mere Hedonist

Sometimes I Wish I Could Sing Like This In Church

2008-03-31T17:16:00.000-07:00

Seriously, how cute is THIS?

Wow. What A Month!

2008-01-10T20:11:00.000-08:00

So, yeah, it's been a few weeks since I've posted, and so much has happenned in the last month, it's unbelievable. Here's a quick recap:

- packed up the rest of my stuff in Texas
- left my job in Texas
- officially settled back in Seattle
- interviewed for some jobs in Seattle
- got hired at a job (a really nice one with a fabulous salary) in Seattle
- went home to New Mexico for Christmas
- unpacked some boxes
- took down Christmas decorations
- started my new job
- found out that my oldest sister has breast cancer (she's having a lumpectomy tomorrow) :(
.
.
.
.
and, um.... also.....
this.

Like I said, so much has happenned in just one short month! I'm tired!

Fin

2007-12-10T06:35:00.000-08:00

Today marks the beginning of my very last week in Texas, y'all. I can't tell you how happy that makes me. :)

Tired, and 7lbs fatter. Oy.

2007-12-03T20:26:00.000-08:00

I can't believe it's been 3 weeks since I last wrote a blog entry. Things have been busy, my dear readers. Busy, busy, busy. I've been in Seattle for the past two weeks, where I hosted Thanksgiving dinner, unpacked a hella lotta boxes, had two job interviews, and got everything set up and bought for Christmas. Not to worry though, I took a bunch of photos to document the festivities:

The table was set:

And the turkey was cooking:

The stuffing was warming:

My mama was sleeping:

My dad who had flown in from Albuquerque:

Was dismayed that we also served some Tofurkey:
"That just isn't normal" ~ Papa Muser

After all the guests left, we put up the tree:

And hung ornaments painted by my future husband, mother,and me:

Bentley was tired and laid on the floor:

As we dressed up the lions outside the front door:

When all had been done, our mugs full of cocoa,
I looked out the window, and there I saw... SNOW!

I kind of suck at rhyming.

A Little Office Funny

2007-11-14T22:08:00.000-08:00

I was walking down the hallway at the hospital where I work today when something caught my eye. On a bulletin board outside a doctor's office was a post it note that read:

Great Truth
Never Poke a Skunk.

And then, because I was drinking iced tea through a straw at that very moment and have the worst timing EVER, I snorted iced tea up my nose in mid-guffaw and ended up kinda sorta dripping iced tea snot back out of my nose.

I know. I'm so unrefined.

Censorship on Crack

2007-11-12T20:17:00.000-08:00

I was watching The Breakfast Club tonight on the Bravo network (read: CABLE television), and I was surprised to hear that when John Bender (Judd Nelson's character) says to the principal (Paul Gleason's character): "Eat My Shorts", it was dubbed over to say "Eat My SOCKS". I had no idea "shorts" was considered an expletive. Considering that just last night on regular old ABC the word "penis" was stated quite clearly on Desperate Housewives during primetime television, I found this to be odd, indeed.

Those silly cable people. I wonder what they'd dub over the word "panties" with. Because, you know, panties... are seriously scandalous.

It Was Like An Orgasm In My Mouth, But Better.

2007-11-10T13:00:00.000-08:00

Last night, I went to a birthday party at a fancy schmancy restaurant where I was served a flourless chocolate cake titled:

"Chocolate Nemesis"

I'm pretty sure I died and went to heaven. Nemesis, indeed.

Home. Sigh

2007-11-07T11:56:00.000-08:00

Three days, peeps. That's how long it took me to drive mah stuffs from Te-has to Seattle. I was, clearly, in a hurry to get back "home". And home it is. I don't think I'll miss much about Texas, but more on that later. I have a lot of unpacking to do still, but in the meantime, here are a few photos from the trip:

One of the things I will NOT miss about Texas: Crickets. These were the crickets that were in my storage unit. Yeah. Thousands of them. Lemme tell you how exciting it was to discover that they had invaded EACH.AND.EVERY.BOX.I.HAD. It wasn't.

Sunset in Utah. Don't hate on the poor photo quality, it was taken from the car. As I was driving.

I love this photo of Bentley. It isn't easy to try and take a picture of a backseat canine when you're driving on the freeway and should *really* be concentrating on driving. *ahem*

Welcome to Washington sign. I didn't stop to take this photo, because hey. I was in a hurry to get there. Not bad for a photo taken at 65mph from the driver's seat, huh?

Holeeee crap, did I miss this. Leaves changing. In colors other than green and brown (I think these are Texas' state colors). Have I mentioned how great it is to be back in Washington?

Fall colors and the brat I got for lunch in Leavenworth, WA. I couldn't wait to stop there to visit my favorite Christmas store on the planet! Also can't wait to go there for the Christmas tree lighting ceremony in December...I, uh.. kinda like Christmas.

And finally... this photo has it all: mountains, evergreens, fog, and SNOW!!!! SNOW, peeps! We don't get no friggin' snow in Texas, y'all.

Yeah. It's good to be home.

Bein' Weezy

2007-10-24T21:52:00.000-07:00

Posting during the upcoming week will be light, folks. I'm moving! :)

(yes, AGAIN. This time, though, it's long-term. Finally.)

One Year Ago...

2007-10-23T00:20:00.000-07:00

Dear Michael,
Exactly one year ago today, you left. No warning, no explanation. Just.... left.

For a long time I wondered why you left. I still don't really know why, but you know... it doesn't really matter anymore. It doesn't matter because it wouldn't change anything to know. And it is so much better to remember all the good things about us instead of wallowing in the why.

I have a lot to thank you for, after all. We had some really great memories together: the lopsided valentine's day cake, the quesadillas at El Caz, our first geocache expedition (remember the travel bug at the waste facility?), all the weddings we went to, our shared love of D&M's pumpkin roll, our ongoing debate about how to make Ling Lings, the day we went and picked up Charlie in Wenatchee, our many trips to Chipotle, the early morning dutch ovens, spending time with your family (especially playing with your neice H), hanging out with J&N, D&M, and J&J, our first dinner date in Anacortes, your first birthday card to me, you freaking out when you saw a spider, making fun of OJ and his meerkat maneuver, never missing an episode of Prison Break and Gray's Anatomy, your first pizelle making, singing out loud in our off key voices in the car to Maroon 5, Christina Aguilera, and Natasha Bedenfield, baking christmas cookies together (and the subsequent attack of my food processor nearly resulting in an inadvertent amputation of my index finger)... these are all memories that I will never forget. They were happy memories.

The thing I want to thank you for most, though, is for showing me that being ME was totally ok. That it was ok to let down my guard, to show the REAL "T face", and to let myself be vulnerable. It was easy, being with you. I knew that I could be silly, or dorky, or gross, or talk about some really uncomfortable things, because I knew you wouldn't judge me for it. You just...let me BE. No one had ever done that for me before, and it's the one thing about you that I will always be grateful for.

But I cannot close this letter without thanking you for the most unexpected thing: it may sound surprising, but I want to thank you for leaving. I mean, the WAY you left was so hurtful, but now that a year has passed (can you believe it's been a year already?) I can honestly say that in many ways, I'm almost...glad that you left. I've learned so much this year, and although I took some steps backward in being able to trust other people, I feel stronger too. And while I don't feel the need to discuss it in detail, your leaving ultimately allowed me to meet the amazing, wonderful man that I'm going to marry and have a family with. But I'd never have met him if you hadn't left. In a strange way, perhaps, I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to find him.

So thank you, Michael. Thank you for everything. While I don't expect to talk to you or see you again, I want you to know that I sincerely wish you the very best. I've moved on, and I'm sure you have too... and I hope that someday you're able to find someone wonderful, just like I have. It's a good feeling :). Most of all, though, I forgive you.

With very warm wishes for your happiness,
~ T

Argggghhhhhh

2007-10-21T20:14:00.000-07:00

Apparently pirate costumes are really in this year:

Check out the look on this one's face. *snicker*

And for a REALLY fun evening, enjoy some more puppy costume hilarity here. Seriously, I think I peed my pants a little from laughing so hard.

Surprise Announcement of the Week

2007-10-20T02:41:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, JK Rowling announced that Dumbledore, the beloved wizard at Hogwarts, is gay.

Duh.

It's That Time of Year Again...

2007-10-15T12:02:00.000-07:00

When all the department stores are starting to put out Christmas decorations, even though it's... um... not even Halloween yet.

I won't go into how much I abhor the commercialization of Christmas, but because it's almost Halloween (i.e., costume time), and because everyone and their mother is already apparently planning for Christmas, I WILL go into the options I'm considering for dressing up and completely humiliating my dog, Bentley for this holiday season:

Gawd, he's so cute, I can hardly STAND it.

Anyway, on to the options for this year's humiliation-fest. Please note that the intended humiliation is for a good cause, i.e., Holiday cards.

Option number 1: Snowman...hat...thingie...:

Option number 2: The WTF Costume of the week:

Option number 3: The Green Elf:

Option number 4: Even BETTER Elf:

Option number 5: Plain 'ole Santa:

Option number 6: What is it with these elf costumes?

Or, the last option: Antlers. Just Antlers:

So what say you, oh loyal blog readers o' mine? Which costume should I get?

I'm going to overlook the fact that each of the dogs in these photos looks like they are having a smashing fantastic time. I can tell that they would wear these costumes all day if they could get away with it.

P.S. For the record, I would totally let Bentley wear his Christmas costume 24/7. Because I'm a cool mom.

STOP Being So Serious! Gosh!

2007-10-13T23:40:00.000-07:00

People in Oak Lawn, Illinois have a mayor with a sense of humor:

Other stop signs include:

• *And Smell the Roses
• *Really. You Gotta Stop.
• *Right There Pilgrim
• *Or We'll Hunt You Down
• *Hold it Right There Buster
• *Then You Can Go
• *Or the Police Will Yell at You
• *Not an Optional Sign
• *It's Really Self-Explanatory
• *Means That You Aren't Moving
• *Even When No One's Looking

Who says there's no creativity in government?

Thanks to Geeding for the link.

Blog Quote Of The Day

2007-10-09T19:15:00.000-07:00

"I can't wait until next year. I will eat the shit out of that tree. "
~ Steve, at The Sneeze

Things I Learned The Last 2 Weeks

2007-10-04T13:46:00.000-07:00

- The Space Needle restaurant is overrated.
- Nothing beats a glass of Prosecco. Well, almost nothing.
- Forecasts of rain in Seattle are not to be trusted.
- Forecasts of rain (that never actually happens... grrrrr)can also debunk well-intentioned plans.
- My parents are both more frail and more strong than I ever imagined.
- I bake a seriously kick ass rhubarb pie.
- Families can sometimes have a lot of drama.
- Despite the drama, families are also sometimes amazing.
- Carrot juice actually isn't all that bad.
- The taste of goat milk doesn't make me hurl.
- Sometimes, being able to take baby steps can be taken for granted.
- Eating too much seafood stew can result in an enormous, unanticipated colon cleansing.
- Greece will always be there.
- Tillamook makes OMG amazing Wild Blackberry ice cream.
- I get seriously bummed when I realise that Tillamook's Wild Blackberry ice cream is a seasonal item only.
- People I knew in high school really haven't changed all that much.
- It's always a good idea to paint only one wall to see what it looks like before painting an entire room in a color that turns out to be a nasty, icky, peach.
- There are a lot of bad-for-you chemicals in regularly used household products.
- It's time I start eating more organically.
- Sometimes it's a good idea to push people a little, even when they're cursing you out.
- When you have a geriatric mother who likes Mexican food but can't walk fast enough to get to the bathroom afterwards, having an extra pair of sweatpants in one's trunk is a welcome thing.
- Stopping for a minute to breathe and take it all in (no, I'm not referring to the mama poops, I'm referring to life, nature, and all that hippie stuff) is something I need to do more often.
- Hope springs in turtles.
- It's really, really important to savor each and every moment, because you never really know how many days you have left.

For All You Renaissance Freaks, I mean Geeks, Out There

2007-10-02T23:07:00.001-07:00

I was looking for some very tasteful artwork for my new home recently, and came across some very... er... interesting items for sale.
How about a Richard The Lionhearted Toilet Seat? Be careful of the claws on that lion, though. They might scratch that gentle little sword-wielding bottom of yours.

A gargoyle with a penchant for oral.. er.. I mean, kinda shitty imported Dutch beer? I mean, grog, or whatever all you ren-fair-ies drink.

Perfect for the parents who want to scare the shit out of their kids (or elderly parents with a heart condition) at night:

This is being marketed to adults. No, seriously. I mean it.

This would be perfect as a centerpiece during Thanksgiving dinner! It seems kind of silly to me, though, that the gargoyle's name on this piece is "Languish". It would probably be more accurate if he was called Assiticus Scratchiticus.

I honestly don't even know what to say about this, except, "nice man hands". Or about the kinds of people that I imagine would find this to be a lovely little addition to their collection of medieval torture devices:

I'm sorry, peeps, but I simply cannot go on any more. I am about to pee myself and thus embarass myself greatly. For your own humor and amusement, feel free to browse more delightful items such as these. You can find them here. Don't say I never gave you anything.

UPDATE: No, I do not consider any of the above to be the "tasteful items" to which I was referring at the beginning of this post. I have obviously not purchased any of these items, although sadly, I know one person in particular who would probably wet his pants in a good way if he knew that these were on the market.

UPDATE No. 2: This is a blatent mockery of Renaissance Fair-goers. Which might be cruel and disheartening if I had never before attended a Renaissance Fair. More than once. And thoroughly enjoyed eating legs of turkey and potatoes without utensils. I mean, because, like, I haven't. Or anything.

UPDATE No. 3: *sigh*. I am such a liar.

THIS is what I call Shock and Awe

2007-09-23T08:21:00.001-07:00

Good Try, AT&T

2007-09-04T19:17:00.000-07:00

Geeding had this video on his blog today, and the first reaction I had when I saw it was "holy CRAP, I remember these commercials!". They're from 1993.

I don't think AT&T brought us all these things, though. But it was nice to dream back then.

In other news, I'll be on a hiatus from blogging for a while. Gotta go home and take care of the folks (both of whom are in the hospital right now). Peace out, peeps.

UPDATE: Now I'm hooked to old videos on YouTube. Check out this one. I can't believe I still remember alot of these jingles WORD. FOR. WORD.

Here's another page with a bunch of old commercials on it:
http://www.youtube.com/user/OldCommercials4U

Man. I'm old.

Spam? Or Targeted Marketing?

2007-08-29T19:43:00.001-07:00

Today I opened up my inbox to find a spam(?) email with the following message:

"Try colon cleansing at home! A natural method for gently eliminating harmful wastes and toxins in your body.

Did you know that the average person stores between 5 to 25 pounds of waste accumulated over the years in their colon? Did you know that some health experts say that 90% of all sickness and diseases are related to an unclean colon?"

Ironically, just this past weekend, I discovered this:

Which, by the way, although labeled "Dieter's Tea" is really just a synonym for "Super Colon Blow Tea".

P.S. My friend Matt came up with "Super Colon Blow Tea", which I think is much more creative than my nickname: "Oh. My. God. My. Colon. Just. Exploded. Tea."

P.S.S. After trying the aforementioned tea, I totally believe the spam claim that 5 to 25 pounds of poop can accumulate in one's colon.

P.S.S.S. I'm pretty sure you don't want me to elaborate.

If You Haven't Had The Garlic Fries at Safeco Field...

2007-08-28T17:13:00.000-07:00

you haven't really lived.

Bliss Is.....

2007-08-22T13:39:00.000-07:00

Sitting in a Starbucks in downtown Seattle on a beautiful day, eating a slice of banana loaf, sipping a grande nonfat hazelnut double shot latte, and goofing off on the internet.

*sigh*

Possibly The Worst YouTube Video Ever Made

2007-08-16T10:06:00.000-07:00

Seriously.

Fun For Bibliophiles

2007-08-15T14:56:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Geeding, I learned about the Sorted Books Project.

So. Awesome.

The Domino Effect

2007-08-12T11:57:00.000-07:00

Well, as of this weekend, ANOTHER one of my nieces is getting married. My neice Melanie was proposed to at the Eiffel Tower by her boyfriend Drew. That makes three, count them, THREE, engagements in my family in the last month and a half. YOWZA.

Even more interesting is that my other three nieces (the non-engaged/married ones) are all in long-term relationships with their significant others. Hmm....

Next year's calendar, so far, looks like: 3 weddings, 1 birth. Stay tuned.

Fun With Ebay

2007-08-12T09:49:00.000-07:00

I saw a link to this on a message board and because I am weird, it made me laugh.

If You've Read "Under The Banner Of Heaven" by Jon Krakauer, You'll Totally Get Why I'm Amused...

2007-08-09T00:06:00.000-07:00

Seattlest.com hosts a trivia challenge every week in, of all places, Seattle. I know, shocker. One of the things I love best about this challenge is the team names. The following teams participated in this week's competition:

Mr. Wizard's Bone Cancer
Brokeback Ninja
Eighth Grade Slow Dance
NAMBLA's Doing it for Jared's Colon
Dangerousness
Rudy Guliani's Daughter Has Foot-in-Mouth Disease
Intraveinous DeMilos
When I Say Cunning, You Say Lingus. "Cunning!"
Baby Labia
No Idea
Team Smartypants
Fistula
Anonymous Four Person Team
I'm Not Wearing Any Underwear
Sex Panther
Muff House
Bitch, Please

And my favorite team name (which also coincidentally happens to be the winning team):
For the 17th Time, It's a Vagina, Not a Clown Car

The best part, though, is the accompanying image:

A Brief Note Before We Go Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

2007-08-07T18:18:00.000-07:00

Heather Armstrong wrote this on her blog a few days ago:

"I know that sounds strange, but that’s what love is, being able to confide in someone that everything isn’t okay, and trusting that they will listen."

I can totally vouch for that sentiment.

Speaking of Anthems...

2007-08-01T14:00:00.000-07:00

My friend Matt and I were talking about songs that have become like personal anthems during different moments of our lives, and one song that has been practically a lifelong anthem for me is "I Will Survive". And that's when I remembered the absolute best, all-time favorite cover that I think has ever been created of this song. I used to listen to this way back when I was in college (I'm old, people), and I almost forgot about it. You can rock out especially to the part from 2:37 to 1:58 and the last 45 seconds. AWESOME.

More Good News On The Fam Front

2007-07-23T15:54:00.000-07:00

I just received a phone call from a very excited neice o' mine, Andrea, who informed me that she and her boyfriend got engaged this past weekend. So it appears that the next year will bring lots of love and smiles in my family, with two weddings and a birth to take place thus far. Woohoo!!!!

I don't know what to do with all this excitement! I think I'll eat a Trophy cupcake that I oh-so-lovingly carried with me all the way to Texas after my weekend trip to Seattle. Mmmmmmm Trooopphhyyyyyy cuuupppccakkkkeeeeee....

Kudo of the Day

2007-07-19T06:52:00.001-07:00

Airports with free wireless access rock so hard.

Talkin' 2 Jesus

2007-07-17T14:24:00.000-07:00

So. Wal-Mart announced recently that they are now going to start carrying faith-based toys. I wasn't really surprised, given their company's history of religious and conservative philosophy.

I took a look at some of the toys they'll be selling. You can get Daniel, a faithful man of prayer:

You can get Jonah- he tried to run but could not hide:

You can get Samson, the strongest man to ever live:

You can even get a talking Jesus:

At first I thought to myself with some disdain: "oh great. Now you can buy Jesus at Wal-Mart". But then I thought: "you know, someday I'll have children. And those children will likely irritate the crap out of me by asking me question after question after question after question. And as a future mother, I really think Wal-Mart is doing me a favor. Because instead of saying "I don't know, stop asking me, jeez!", ignoring them altogether, or messing with their heads a little bit just because it's fun like Steve at the Sneeze, now you can say "Go ask Jesus". Imagine the world of motherhood when every time your child asks you a question you can simply say "Go ask Jesus". Goddamn I need one of those dolls. "

Of course, if you don't love Jesus, you can always get a Baby Jesus Butt Plug instead.

(Yes, mom, I know I'm going to hell.)

P.S. I forgot to mention that my friend Matt sent me the link to the Baby Jesus Butt Plug.

(Yes, mom, I know he's going to hell too.)

Greeting Cards For Loved Ones

2007-07-15T19:32:00.000-07:00

Someone sent me this link today, and I have already begun to list who among my family and friends will be lucky enough to receive one of these cards. Among my favorites:

It is So Hot and Humid In Texas That...

2007-07-12T07:28:00.000-07:00

Every time I walk outside, my glasses get all foggy.
My days here are numbered.
Thank GAWD.

Quote of the Day

2007-07-11T10:53:00.000-07:00

"Maybe i should look for a crack whore to take with me to Disneyland"
~ My friend Ron

Seen on the D.C. Metro, Sometime Last Week

2007-07-10T21:36:00.000-07:00

In case you can't read it all, it says: Sumpinspishus: n. unattended package or odd, unusual behavior that is reported to a bus driver, train operator (via intercom at end of rail car), station manager, or Metro Police at 202-962-2121.

Am I the only one who looks at this and wonders why, in our nation's capital (of all places), they are promoting the use of slang on the walls of the city's public transportation system? Is the urban dictionary taking over proper grammar? Is this what the world is coming to?

All of a sudden, I'm realizing that I'm becoming a stereotypical grandpa-like old crotchety fucker. Holy crap.

What I Did On Independence Day

2007-07-08T21:37:00.001-07:00

Better Than A Colonic

2007-06-29T09:29:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, I had my very first ever chiropractic adjustment. I've been scared of chiropractors since pretty much... oh... birth, because it always looks like they're breaking people's necks when I see them on TV. But I just so happenned to be at the home of a chiropractor where I was having a lovely lunch, when a complementary adjustment was offered. I thought about saying no, but then thought, "what the hell". I'm kind of adventurous like that. So off I went.

I was asked a number of questions about my back pain (going on 10 years now), headaches (often), and any other health problems (chronic non-pooping). After the first exam, which involved lots of poking and prodding along my spine, it turns out I have a very unusual disk problem wherein one of my discs is sort of slipped behind another one and putting pressure on the spongeoform tissue or whatever jibber jabber blah blah blah (I cannot be counted on to remember these kinds of things). All I heard was "you have a problem with your back", and "I can likely help your non-pooping problem".

The adjustment itself, despite my initial trepidation, was a.) not painful, b.) did not involve the intense cracking of my vertebrae into a billion pieces, and c.) left me feeling pretty great afterwards. Who knew?

I was pretty skeptical of the non-pooping claim, though. I mean, even though I took 2 years of clinical medicine and know that a bizillion nerves innovate the colon, I was all "yeah. *snort*. We'll see. I have intestines of steel. That's right, steel."

But.

Let me just say that in the last two weeks, I have pooped (GOOD poops! Ones that even Dr. OZ would be proud of!) an average of three times per week. If you don't already know it about me, THIS. IS. PROGRESS. Progress on a level unprecedented except perhaps by the Age Of The Renaissance or maybe the early 80's. I cannot recall a time in my life when I have had such success.

Of course, I'm farting more than usual now too, but whatever.

Nice Granny Pannys

2007-06-25T23:39:00.000-07:00

I was reading a blog today when I came across this interesting advertisement:

And when I clicked on the ad, I was treated to this:

Interesting marketing concept.

And this:

That's one way to sell socks, I guess.

P.S. Yes, I do know it's spelled PANTIES.

Serenity

2007-06-19T18:27:00.000-07:00

I did something this past weekend that I haven't done in nearly TWO YEARS. The fact that I haven't done this in nearly two years was astounding to me, but nevertheless, it felt really, really good. And no, I'm not talking about sex.

I went hiking this past weekend, just a little north of Seattle near Granite Falls, WA. There was still snow on the ground (?!?) and I got rained on (yeah, I know, it's Seattle, duh) and it was cold as F.U.C.K. but you know something? It was good for the soul. I can't wait to get back to hiking like this in Seattle on a regular basis...won't be long, folks. :)

(minor tangent: The whole drive up, I was cursing the mother-effing now-ex repeatedly for taking my GPS unit- my $450 GPS unit- when he left me in a feat of gross cowardice and broke my heart [see October archive], because I knew there would be some damn good Geocaches on the trail. Not that I'm still bitter or anything. But the minute I stepped out of the car, breathed in the mountain air, and realized that I was "home" again, the fact that I didn't have my GPS mattered little. Although if any of you run into him, steal it back for me, mmmkay?)

Back to regularly scheduled programming...

The first waterfall encountered on the trail:

I miss foliage like this:

Halfway to the top:

I had a distinct feeling I was being watched:

Finally made it! The lake at the top of the trail (this reminds me of a Rorschach blot):

A rainbow (!) on the way back down:

Big News!!!!!

2007-06-15T00:28:00.000-07:00

Guess who's pregnant?

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

No, not ME. But I bet a few of you who read this blog regularly just crapped your pants because you thought it was for a second. Heh heh. That makes me laugh.

My beautiful neice Amanda and her husband Frank are expecting, and just announced it to the family a few hours ago. They're due in mid-February.

Y'all totally know that this baby (my first great neice/nephew!) is going to be totally spoiled and shit, right?

Congrats!!!!!!!!!!!!!

P.S. I'm going to need a valium to calm down from all this excitement!

Um.

2007-06-14T19:58:00.000-07:00

I thought this story was on a mock news site like The Onion.

But it isn't.

On a related note, one of my favorite South Park songs:

What I Ate For Dinner Last Night

2007-06-14T14:16:00.000-07:00

Because I am a fatass.
Also, I was too lazy to leave my apartment to go get dinner.

Embarassing Moment of the Week #2

2007-06-10T22:59:00.000-07:00

I live in Texas, as most of you know. A state which has a tendency to get excessively hot and humid during the summer months. People from Texas scoff at non-natives, insisting that the weather here "really ain't all that bad". These are the same people who seem to forget that one of the things that comes with the aforementioned weather, almost like clockwork, are......

GIANT. COCKROACHES.

Now, I would like to point out that I am not an unkempt invididual, and I am not slovenly. Those characteristics refer to the ex-who-broke-my-heart (details in all its gory glory here). I like hygiene. I like clean. I do not leave foodstuffs out on the countertops. I do not eat crackers on my couch. And yet, tonight, whilst internetting away, I saw one of these:

out of the corner of my eye. Imagine it about 3x the size of the above photo (no, I am not exaggerating). Crawling. On. My. Television.

After I screamed and did the heebie jeebie dance, I performed an exercise in futility, otherwise known as the "using a broom to try and sweep the cockroach out the front door" maneuver. I think the cockroach was onto me, though, because it turned and ran the other direction so fast that I got scared and jumped onto my couch, attempting to sweep it from that vantage point. It was very similar to what happenned here:

Except that mine didn't die. It decided instead to sprint his exoskeleton-ed ass into my bedroom and INTO. MY. EMPTY. SUITCASE.

In a brief moment of bravery, I flipped the lid of my suitcase and dragged it outside, where I tossed the suitcase onto the ground and stood as far back as I could so that I could reach it with my big toe and flip the lid back open again. The cockroach decided at that time to FLY out of the suitcase, but luckily nowhere near my head because I'm pretty sure I would have either had a coronary right there or I would have woken up my neighbors with my little girl screams.

This is the one thing that really sucks about being a single gal who lives alone. I need a man to come kill my bugs.

Embarassing Moment of the Week

2007-06-09T13:34:00.001-07:00

Today, I called my apartment manager because the air conditioning in my apartment ceased to work. When it's easily 95 degrees outside at night with 200% humidity, the urgency of my call cannot be understated. I mean, don't get me wrong, there are times when sweating profusely is perfectly acceptable, but usually those times involve another person. Thank God my mother doesn't read this blog.

ANYWAY, the maintenance guy showed up pretty quickly, tools in hand. He needed access to my breaker box, which is located in my bedroom. He spent quite a bit of time in there, but didn't question it after I felt the air conditioning kick in and I was a happy camper.

It wasn't until later when I went into my bedroom that I noticed that I had left two of these (yes, TWO, one was almost empty, sheesh!):

on my nightstand. The nightstand which is 2 feet away from the breaker box. Also on the nightstand: a box of kleenex.
Oy.

Someone Needs Ritalin. Or Adderall. Or, You Know, A Lot Of Bourbon

2007-06-05T23:45:00.001-07:00

I love how none of the other kids seem to notice him. Especially the little boy to his right, who simply looks as though he wishes he were in another dimension altogether.

Another Mama Moment

2007-05-31T09:27:00.000-07:00

While sitting with my parents at dinner at a very busy restaurant over the weekend, my mother gets a call from my sister. It is important to note that when my mother is on the phone, she doesn't seem to recognize the fact that you DON'T. HAVE. TO. SCREAM. IN. ORDER. TO. BE. HEARD. Which is why, when she said/screamed the following:

"How's my diarrhea? It's ok, my doctor gave me some pills so I haven't had any accidents lately"

I laughed so hard I nearly peed my pants.

For All The Rainiacs Out There

2007-05-23T12:14:00.000-07:00

This story goes out to all the people who have said to me over the years "why on earth would you want to live in SEATTLE??? It rains more in Seattle than anywhere else in the country!!!"

I humbly say to you all now,
"suck it".

P.S. I'll be out of commission for a few days, as I am driving home (a 12 hour drive) to see my family for the long weekend. Wish me luck tonight, as it's monsoon/tornado watch weather in Texas tonight and I'll be driving right through it.

I'll probably encounter one of these:

But I won't even be able to take a cool ass photo like that because it'll be dark the whole way and I won't see it anyway. Wish me luck!
I hope all of you have a fabulous, lazy, fun-filled Memorial Day. I know I will :).

There Are Days...

2007-05-23T11:17:00.000-07:00

...when I simply shake my head and wonder how on earth people do some of the things they do and believe some of the things they believe. Just today, for example, I've come across two accounts in particular, here and here. Both of which, you'll note, have to do with the laying of hands on women, in an aggressive fashion. Those of you who know me understand why this is a topic that's so sensitive to me. The first story? Disturbing on so many levels. The second story? Tragic and heartbreaking. Which is a serious understatement.

P.S. Links obtained from Geeding's blog.

P.S.S. Oh. My. Lawd. I've just been navigating the first link, and there's a store. Where a "loving Christian wife" can purchase crotchless pantaloons. And this is how they're described: These split-crotch pantaloons will keep you cool and comfortable while making your husband very happy. I mean, ok, I get the irony here, and it would be laughable if it weren't promoted on this particular site.
*shiver*

P.S.S.S. Um. So yeah. The aforementioned store? Has, er... books. That, um... well.... oy.

Effing Pants!

2007-05-17T20:14:00.000-07:00

You know what sucks? When you take two extra strength Ex-Lax because my GOD already, it's been almost 5 days since you last made a number two and it hurts and you're bloated and all you want to do is POOP for goodness sake, and then when the urge hits you at the end of the day you rush to the ladies room and try to pull down your pants but the damn HOOKS on your pants won't pop open no matter how hard you tug and pull at them which is so INCREDIBLY FRUSTRATING because you have a feeling that if you DON'T get the friggin' hooks undone you will most likely have an inadvertent pants-pooping which will be horribly embarassing even though you're really just by yourself but hey, sometimes you get embarassed all on your own even though noone's around and DAMNIT you're wearing your CUTE panties today and the last thing on earth you want is to get THEM all pooped up, so you're practically pulling the aforementioned damn hooks out of the pants by the threads because THIS. IS. AN. EMERGENCY. and you almost start crying because of the cute panties and the you-know-what that you know you'll have to clean off the floor in a minute (which is SO gross)but then you laugh because you know this will make for a really funny story someday, a story that all your friends and family will tell in the most inopportune circumstances such as a wedding or a bar mitzvah or even a funeral to people who really DON'T need or want to hear such things, but then you start to panic because yes, the poop's coming, but the HOOKS!!!!!!!.

And then, miraculously, at the very last minute, the hooks come undone and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Welcome to my life.

Inspiration

2007-05-15T23:37:00.000-07:00

I'm not much of a music person. I mean, yeah, I listen to music, I like music, I sing along to music I like at the top of my very off-key, obnoxious voice when I am in the confines of my automobile and am quite sure noone can hear me. I do, however, have this rendition of the Happy Birthday song that has become somewhat of a tradition for me to sing in my aforementioned screeching fashion over the phone to friends and family on their birthdays. It's so popular that I have recently created renditions of The Mother's Day song, The Valentine's Day song, The Fourth of July song, The Anniversary song, The Labor Day song, The Thanksgiving song, The Passover song, The New Year's Day song, The President's Day song, and The Flag Day song because hey, I like Canada and most people forget about Flag Day so it's a public service for me to remind people.

My bestest friend Joe Joe does music, though. I mean.... DOES.... music. He is the guy I want on my team when I play music jeopardy. Well, I mean, SHOULD I ever play music jeopardy. He knows more obscure music trivia than anyone I've ever known, I mean, like, holy crap does he know music.

But tonight, I discovered a new music artist from Australia , and when I say "discovered", I mean that a good friend of mine raved about her when we were out having drinks until 11pm on a weeknight. For shame. And now I am going to share this music with you, my three regular readers, because my GOOD GOD, I can't stop listening to it and seriously think that this album will replace any and all need I have for sex.

Well. Maybe not. But yeah. It's that good.

P.S. Especially pay attention to the songs Sugarcane, Forgive Me, and Where I Stood

Crap. I may have to dry clean my suit now.

2007-05-14T23:03:00.000-07:00

I like to tell people that I do well in job interviews. I'm friendly, I laugh at all the right times, I smile so much I usually wish I pulled the "vaseline on the teeth" routine that beauty pagent contestants do so that their lips don't stick to their teeth rendering them quite donkey lip-like, I say smart things. I usually try to come across as mature and serious, until the point where someone asks me about my current job, or what kinds of ideas I have for future projects.

Because then? Then I start blabbing and go on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and so on. And I speak really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really really, really, really really fast. It's like I'm in fast motion, arms flying everywhere (I use them to make a point, duh), pupils dilated like I just took a hit of smack in the bathroom an hour prior, going off on various tangents to such an extent that trying to follow along is quite like I imagine what being on smack is actually LIKE, and then I often digress so much that I fail to even remember the question at all and then I feel stupid and dumb and get embarassed and then look quite sheepish.

I think I need to work on that.

Guess What This Is

2007-05-11T11:18:00.000-07:00

I bet you couldn't guess. But I am so totally getting a print of this to put on my wall. Just so I can say to people when I have parties, "yeah, that's a colon".

I'm fascinated by these. More galleries from previous years here.

On A Whim

2007-05-10T17:49:00.000-07:00

I looked up the directions to Florence (my all-time favorite city on the PLANET, just in case you were wondering) from Seattle (where I fully intend to move, once I get a job there- anyone wanna get me a job there? Pretty please?) on Google Maps.

Let me just say: Google people, you are awesome.

Check out line 18.

It's Snot Gross, It's Science!

2007-05-09T20:01:00.000-07:00

Seen recently in a stall at the woman's restroom at the Seattle Pacific Science Center . Turns out, it's an extension of their recent Grossology exhibit (click picture to view it larger):

About Lulu

2007-05-03T17:30:00.000-07:00

Those of you who've known me for a while know that I used to have a dog. Her name was Lulu.

I picked her out at the humane society, you know. Back when I was in graduate school in San Diego. At the time, I was married, and my husband wanted a dog. He wanted a dog with "huge cajones" that he could call Roscoe, because he was a big Dukes of Hazzard fan (don't ask). One afternoon, I got out of work early, and I thought I'd go see if they had any male dogs with gargantuan gonads. I didn't find any. But there was another dog I kept going back to. A dog who, when I walked down the row, was the only one who wasn't barking vociferously; the only one with a sweet-as-pie face; the only one who, when I approached, wagged her tail like crazy and wouldn't stop licking my hand when I stuck it through the chain link to pet her nose. She wasn't at all what my husband wanted (first of all, it was a SHE), but what could I do? I fell in love with her and brought her home.

When I got separated over 3 years ago (I'm since divorced), my ex moved back to Philadelphia. I reluctantly gave her to her daddy, because I knew he would take better care of her than I could (he worked from home and could spend more time with her). For the first few months, I checked in with him regularly, asking how she was doing. But after a while, it was too hard. I stopped asking.

Today, for the first time in almost 3 years, my ex-husband emailed me. Lulu was diagnosed with lymphoma earlier in the week, had chemotherapy, and seemed to be responding well. But today, she went into respiratory distress, and she didn't make it. My little, licky-loo Lulu died today. I miss you, baby girl.

I Thought Living In Texas Was Bad

2007-05-01T14:11:00.000-07:00

Until I read this.
Thanks to Heather Armstrong for the link.

Ebullient Moment

2007-04-29T01:03:00.000-07:00

I was at a Starbucks tonight with a friend of mine. As I placed my typical order (grande nonfat latte, 1 shot sugarfree hazelnut syrup), I happenned to look over at a display they had by the door.

Folks, there is nothing quite like discovering that a Starbucks, in THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE TEXAS, now serves Top Pot donuts. It's almost better than the time I experienced my first orgasm. Almost. But not quite.

Lessons From Beijing

2007-04-27T14:34:00.000-07:00

Note to self: Never, ever, ever, EVER take another rickshaw ride in Beijing when by oneself and without knowing fluent Mandarin.

(This is not the rickshaw driver referred to in this post. It is probably a very nice rickshaw driver.)

I had a rickshaw...incident...in Beijing last week. I can honestly say I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life, except perhaps when I was in a plane at 35,000 feet above a vast expanse of ocean and the pilot said over the intercom "no need to worry" (which of course means "panic and vomit on your shoes") and "we need to make a quick stop in Nova Scotia".

I just wanted to go a few blocks to the market. I knew where it was. My rickshaw driver knew where it was. The location, after all, was circled on the map I showed him, and it was written on a card the hotel gave me. When we started going the opposite direction, I attempted to get the driver's attention to inform him of such, but he kept going. In my mind I justified that maybe he knew another way to get there, or may be rickshaws weren't allowed on the main streets (somehow I managed to forget that I had seen them on the main streets all week). Ultimately, I ended up in a hutong. A very shady and very questionable neighborhood.

I watched an Oprah episode once on self defense, and the biggest message of all was "don't be taken to a second location". By the time the rickshaw driver stopped, in the middle of the hutong, turned around, and demanded 50 dollars for a 10 minute ride, I started to think to myself "oh, no. I'm in a second location. And I don't speak the language. And I have no idea where I am."

I tried to reason with the driver, I told him I didn't HAVE 50 dollars (although I had just taken the equivalent of $100 in yuan from the ATM that afternoon). I tried to give him 100 yuan (approximately $12). When he reached for my shoulders and started to shake me, repeating that he wanted 50 dollars, I began to panic, despite the fact that he was much shorter than I and I was easily twice his weight. When he pushed me up against a wall, screaming into my face, I remembered that I was wearing the double strand of black pearls I bought the day before, and had my brand new digital camera, my passport, my driver's licence, my credit card, and my wad o' yuen in my backpack. Plenty to take from an unsuspecting, single, American girl in the middle of the Beijing ghetto. Oddly, at the time, when I looked around us to see if someone would help, all that looked back at me were the faces of the locals, some with smirks on their faces. As if this sort of thing happenned every day. I remembered Kitty Genovese from my social psychology classes.

I took out another 200 yuen from my pocket and threw it at him as I pushed my way out of his grasp. And then I started to run. I could hear him behind me, hopping on his rickshaw, and trying to catch up with me. Luckily, there was a busy street not too far ahead and I managed to lose him in the crowd.

In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have taken a rickshaw by myself, but I'm a worldly traveller. I don't scare easily. I know my bearings, and I'm confident that I can get from place to place without incident. But now my confidence is shaken, and you know, that really sucks.

I'm Not A Very Religious Person...

2007-04-26T13:49:00.001-07:00

...which should come as no surprise to those of you who read this blog on a regular basis. All you have to do, for example, is read yesterday's post. Because of this (my non-religion, not yesterday's post, although now that I think about it, probably also because of yesterday's post), I am often the bane of my mother's existence.

But sometimes, when you hear bad news, praying for certain people is the right thing to do. And today, that's exactly what I'm doing.

The Funniest Sentence I Think I've Ever Read

2007-04-24T00:57:00.000-07:00

Green Chartreuse is a liqueur that was invented when Satan was tired of peeing in the mouths of the damned with his eight-headed penis.

Me, Singing GOSPEL?

2007-04-23T19:40:00.000-07:00

Today is the official 6 month anniversary of The Very Unpleasant And Devastating Breakup. I thought I might be a little more melancholy than I am, but the fact is that right now, things are good. Really, really good. I'm reminded every day of all the amazing things I have in my life right now- a job I love (even though it isn't in the location I'd prefer), supportive and loyal friends, a very loving family...and some very interesting prospects to consider in the immediate future.

I took a bit of a break this weekend, anticipating the stress at work that I knew would face me this week, and you know.... it was an unforgettable couple of days, ruled entirely by spontaneity, and a bit of hedonism (this IS after all, the blog of a mere hedonist, so I'm simply assuming the role, of course. *ahem*). Some highlights:

- Amazing views of downtown Austin
- The Scent of Serenity massage oil
- Shots of chilled Patron Silver
- a taste of my very first Manhattan (I know, I'm a lame-o)
- Listening to the Black Bexar Pipe Band play an impromptu rendition of Amazing Grace in the bar of the Menger Hotel
- Talking to mom about an upcoming trip
- The sound of a panflute playing while walking along the river at Rivercenter in San Antonio
- A sprig of fresh jasmine in my hair
- Standing on a bridge, taking in the sight of a gargoyle-laden building bathed in an orange and yellow glow
- Eavesdropping on a pair of adolescents who were lamenting overt public displays of affection
- Getting adventure blocked by Fiesta week activities and bicycle races
- Seeing the Alamo at night
- Admiring lavender, striped satin shoes
- Singing gospel songs onstage with a very handsome gentlemen at the Stubbs BBQ Gospel Brunch
- Taking a boat ride on Town Lake with William Dafoe (well, ok, I wasn't WITH William Dafoe, but he was on the same boat I was, so give me a little celebrity credit, mmmkay?)
- Topping off the weekend with a banana split made with bavarian chocolate, mocha, and torincino ice cream and Reese's peanut butter cups. YUM.

It's about the little things, you know? All in all, a pretty fantastic way to spend a weekend that might have otherwise been less entertaining or altogether fun. I think I might start having more weekends like this one in the near future. *grin*

Because Malek Asked For Them

2007-04-14T15:35:00.000-07:00

First, I'd like to say that I had a lot of international visitors to my blog today, from places like Bombay, India, Rome, Italy, Heerhugoward, the Netherlands, and Frankfurt, Germany. Since I am currently in Beijing and am doing the international thing myself, I want to say "THANKS, International blog visitors!". :)

OK, moving right along. My friend Malek, with whom I reconnected last year due to a surprising 8th grade yearbook incident, asked me to post some pictures from China. Because I am cool like that, and because I'm a bit of a camera whore, I am happy to oblige. Here are a few of my favorites from the last few days:
The first thing I saw in Beijing after leaving customs:

At the Beijing zoo:

The most adorable child I think I've ever seen:

One of my favorite photos from the Summer Palace, of the ceiling (thanks to Justin for the idea after he did a similar thing in at Sacre Coeur in Paris recently)

After climbing a bizillion steps to get to the top of the Summer Palace:

Looking up at the Summer Palace:

The Summer Palace, up close, in its colorful detail:

Beijing, as seen from the top of the Summer Palace:

A sign that was posted in my cab today:

I'll continue to post photos throughout the week, if only to satisfy Malek, because he's supah cool and I like to show off.

Yet Another Reason To Stop For A Moment...

2007-04-14T07:16:00.001-07:00

My neice passed on the link to this article today; once I read it, I had to post it here. I'd like to think I wouldn't have been one of the passersby, but I'm not so sure....

It's things like this that remind me that sometimes it's important to pay attention to the periphery...beauty can be found in places we aren't even looking.

On a side note: I'm strangely fascinated by the fact that blogger.com loads in Chinese (ok, maybe it isn't THAT weird, seeing as I'm IN China, but every one of the other regular pages I visit when I'm in the US loads in English here. Pretty cool!).

I'm Off!

2007-04-11T08:30:00.000-07:00

I'm going to beeee innnnnn Chiiiiiinnnaaaaaaaa. Neeeneerrrr neeneerrrrr.

I'll be gone for 10 days. Don't panic, peeps. I'll be back. I promise. Breathe.

Ex-Lax Letter

2007-04-10T01:31:00.000-07:00

Dear Ex-Lax People,
I have a complaint to lodge regarding one of your products.

For the second time in a month, I have ingested two pills, as directed on the box. The box, WHICH YOU CREATED, clearly states that I should "produce" within 6-8 hours. Liars. All of you.

Here I am, almost 36 hours later, AT WORK, mind you, when finally, your mis-marketed product decides to actually DO ITS JOB.

I must say though, Ex-Lax People, that your product does a very good rendition of the "must go NOW or forever endure the humiliation of everyone you work with for the REST OF YOUR LIFE" routine. Because today? When I was AT WORK, I had a near-miss pants-crapping.

I hate you, Ex Lax people.

P.S. Can you please send me some free samples? Thank you.

2007-04-08T11:26:00.000-07:00

My mama told me today that I "should really grow up" because my "maturity level is questionnable".

Well, to be fair, I'm paraphrasing. What she REALLY said was "Stop being so immature. Grow up, Muser."

And all because I HAPPEN to write the OCCASIONAL blog post about poop.
She's so sensitive.

Owie.

2007-04-05T15:24:00.000-07:00

You know, when you have to get a hella buncha painful, intramuscular shots because you're going to a foreign country for 2 weeks and you're a total needle phobe like I am...

It is really nice to go to a pediatric nurse to give those shots to you. They're nice. Even though I'm pretty sure both of my arms are going to fall off of my body within the next 24 hours.

Plankton Theft

2007-04-04T14:40:00.000-07:00

Someone stole my algae.

I had one of these

on the shelf above my desk at work. It hung out with a bunch of other Giant Microbes. But now it's gone, and my other microbes just aren't the same without it.

Fucker.

This Is What Central Texas Looks Like Right Now. No, Really. Yes, Seriously! Sheesh.

2007-04-02T16:31:00.000-07:00

I was testing out my new digital camera on the drive back from my nephew's wedding, and I wanted to capture the fact that central Texas DOES have green grass and wildflowers. For about 3 weeks a year. I *almost* felt like I was back in Seattle, but...yeah. Not quite. The 90 degree weather reminded me that I wasn't.

When Hedonism Goes Bad

2007-04-01T19:51:00.000-07:00

You know you've had too much fun the night before when you are woken up at 11am by the sound of your cell phone ringing, you pick it up, and your mother (with whom you were sharing a hotel room for the weekend, and whom you also did not hear get up, take a shower, get dressed and packed, order room service, eat breakfast, and leave for an early afternoon flight) tells you the following:

a.) she hung up the beautiful but way-too-expensive designer dress I wore off the bathroom floor; a dress whose zipper appeared to have been ripped, most likely due to repeated failures of attempts to remove it properly on my part.

b.) she woke up to find me sitting on the couch, wearing only my bra and underwear, fully asleep because I apparently did not quite make it to the bed; when she physically laid me down and put a blanket over me and a pillow under my head, I didn't wake up. Not even a little bit.

c.) I left a very disgusting, very smelly, post-lushing dump in the toilet that I somehow forgot to flush.

d.) despite all this, she loves me anyway, and so does God.

Let's just say that last night, I went to what was easily the best wedding I've ever attended. The ceremony was not at all traditional, it was filled with joy and love, and there was not one dry eye in the place (not even the men could help but get emotional). I looked hot in my dress, almost had a nip slip, and clearly drank WAY. TOO. FRIGGIN'. MUCH. at the reception.

I remember dancing a hell of a lot with my sisters, my neices and nephews, and some random lecherous old man. After that, I have vague memories of my neice's boyfriend challenging me to do rounds of lemondrop shots, gin martinis (I HATE gin martinis, which goes to show you how out of it I was to actually agree to drink one), tom collins', appletinis, and crown royal over ice. Given that I rarely drink, and that I have the lowest tolerance this side of the International Date Line, the fact that I was able to drink that much is really saying something. I think I was carried out of the place by my brother and his wife, and someone (I think my brother-in-law's 20 year old son) made sure I got to my parent's hotel room without face planting into a water fountain.

I feel.... not so good today. But there's one thing about alcohol that I love: when I drink it in excess, it works as a really, really great laxative.

PostScript

2007-03-31T00:19:00.000-07:00

Did I happen to mention that tonight, in reference to my current age, a very good looking but way too young for me man said, in all sincerity (I'm pretty sure), "what are you, 25?"

I swear to God, if he hadn't been so much younger than I am, I'd have stuck my tongue down his throat right then and there.

10 Things I Didn't Know...

2007-03-30T23:58:00.000-07:00

...about my nephew before tonight:

1.) He once had an "intimate" relationship with a woman 15 years his senior who directed a play he was in.

2.) Said female director (in sweet, sweet irony) ended up at his college a few years later as a professor, and guess who signed up for the class, not knowing who the professor was?

3.) He once absconded with Kristen Bell's broccoli when they lived in the same apartment building.

4.) He kept said broccoli in his refrigerator for almost 6 months, as he coveted it so.

5.) He was once constipated for an entire month and thought perhaps he was dying.

6.) The woman he's about to marry, on a physician's advice, actually went in manually and retrieved what has been defined as "easily a 10 pound piece of poop".

7.) In college, he was the founder of a weekly education group, related to sexual topics. Among some of the chapters: cunnilingus, fisting, masturbation, what a person can do with vegetables (see aforementioned broccoli item), and anal sex (see above item #6).

8.) He taught a 15 year old male about the G-spot (namely, how to find it).

9.) He once cried like a little girl after being bitten by a horsefly ("it was HUGE", he said lamely in his defense).

10.) In college, he subsisted largely on the leftovers of everyone he knew. In fact, when he broke up with one of his previous girlfriends (who in a strange twist of fate ended up somehow as his stepsister), he took her leftovers after he dumped her.

I Think I Know This Fellow.

2007-03-27T22:09:00.000-07:00

Only he must've changed his name, picked up a drinking habit, and moved to Scotland since I last saw him.

My Poor Mother Raised Such A Heathen

2007-03-27T12:24:00.000-07:00

I was reading this interesting story on Seattlist.com today, and I just. started. laughing (listen to the audio file to know what I'm talkin' about). Seriously, I'm sorry, but some things are just ridiculous. Because come on, with people like this mucking it up for everyone, the world might someday go without:

A delightful selection of Christian candy bars:

Soft Mint Scripture Candy:

Scripture Smarties:

Scripture Mints:

And my personal favorite, the Salvation Candy Tube:

THE HORROR.

Fortune Cookie Freakitude

2007-03-26T16:27:00.000-07:00

I got a fortune cookie today at lunch, and this was the message inside:

You have a way with words and should write a book.

Hrmmmm.

Sometimes It's Fun To Be A Kid Again

2007-03-25T19:33:00.000-07:00

You know, there really isn't anything as exhilirating as running outside in the pouring rain and doing cartwheels down the driveway with good friends.

I Discovered Something Last Night

2007-03-23T14:01:00.000-07:00

No, not my vagina.

I discovered that I. EFFING. LOVE. CREAM. CHEESE. WONTONS.

I'd never had them before (I know!), and I was encouraged (read: forced) to try them by my dinner companion. If you haven't tried these before, run and do it now. It's like an orgasm in your mouth. Well, one that tastes good anyway.

The Epitomy of Stupidity

2007-03-23T13:40:00.000-07:00

Today, Dennis Hastert (R-Illinois, former Speaker of the House) said the following in response to the House voting for troop withdrawal in Iraq by next summer:

"I ask my honorable Democratic friends how the Democrats can on the one hand say they support our troops by providing them with money, but on the other hand undermine them by telegraphing a date for their withdrawal from Iraq. Congress should under no circumstances micromanage the war and have politicians make decisions that should be left to our commander in chief and to the generals on the ground."

2 thoughts:

1.) Iraqi withdrawal equates to undermining our troops? How, exactly?
2.) The Republican Congress didn't make decisions regarding the Iraq war?

Some things just merit a response, I can't help it. I'm sure I'll go back to my regular poop/booger/fart/sex posts tomorrow.

You Know You're In Texas When...

2007-03-22T15:28:00.000-07:00

Big brother at your workplace bans access to YouTube, but totally lets you watch anything you want on GodTube.

Overheard At The Hospital Today...

2007-03-22T14:27:00.000-07:00

"I agree, it's incredibly difficult to have a bowel movement while lying on your back."

I Would Totally Fall For A Guy Who Said This

2007-03-21T23:27:00.000-07:00

A friend recently told me what I think is perhaps the best pick up line I've ever heard.

"If you were a booger I'd pick you first".

Effing CLEVER, eh?

Nice Little Ego Boost

2007-03-21T22:35:00.000-07:00

Not that I NEEDED it, but it's pretty damn cool to get a phone call telling you that you've made it into the top 5 list for a swank ass job that a bizillion other highly qualified people have applied for, and that the other 4 candidates are either a.) already employees of said company and have applied internally, or b.) have degrees from Harvard and Yale, respectively. It's enough to make a girl blush.

Not me, of course. But another girl. Yeah. *cough*

Totally Useless Statistics

2007-03-20T15:48:00.000-07:00

For years, I've argued with friends over whether carbonated beverages should be called "soda", "pop", or "coke". Personally, I call them soda. I grew up in the Southwest U.S. My coworkers in Texas call it "coke". I am unable to call it "coke", because to me that is a brand name and thus represents commercialism at its best. I'm not a fan of commercialism. Follow along, people.

All my friends in Washington state call it "pop". I am completely incapable of calling it "pop" because it reminds me of the Dr. Seuss book "Hop on Pop", and that just sounds dirty to me.

Sometimes people have way too much time on their hands, as indicated by the data collection that must've gone into creating the following map (click this link or this link for a more interactive display):

I was pretty amused to click on the link that showed what people listed as "other". Among my favorites: "dildo juice", "pangalactic gargleblaster", "rocky mountain panther piss", "monkey nut juices", "big gay California butt slam", "snatch squeezins", "the frothy walrus", "hairy ass good time juice", "grandpa's foamy yoo-rine", "Jared's ass lava", "testicular fortitude", and "flaming angry llama juice".

It's nice to know that there are actual statistics to demonstrate that by and large, people in the Southwest call such drinks "soda", Texans call them "cokes", and Seattlites call them "pops". So I guess we're ALL "right", even though that kinda sucks because *I* like being right. Thanks to Geeding for the link :).

Jet City Recap

2007-03-19T22:28:00.000-07:00

I. MISS. SEATTLE.

There. I've said it. After the second trip in a month, I've gotta say, it's more and more clear to me that it's where I need to be. Yes, NEED. Despite the fact that there are some memories there that are still a little difficult emotionally, there are still so many reasons to move back.

Side note: I need a job. Anyone? Anyone?

Among the highlights of the weekend:

Getting this hella cool photo from Jennifer's manly boyfriend (which is now the background on my cell phone AND laptop):

Top Pot Donuts. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Purchasing 9 books at Half Price Books. :drool:

Eating Thai AND Indian food AND Dim Sum (remember, I live in Texas, so this was a big deal).

Spending time with a few old friends.

Making a few new friends.

Seeing an IMAX movie (Lawd, I miss living in a city with an IMAX theater!).

Having lamb and barley stew fed to me by a gorgeous man in a suit (ok, so he was one of the restaurant owners, pathetically attempting to appear incognito- at first he told me he was a food critic, but I called him on it. "I'm sorry, but food critics don't wear suits that nice, so try again", I said. Cheeky, eh?) at a chance encounter at 13 Coins on a late St. Patrick's eve. It's cause I looked HAWT. No doubt.

Going on a pseudo-date (and no, I won't reveal the details here because I know y'all are perverts. And perhaps unfortunately for me, the pseudo-date was not with the aforementioned gorgeous lamb stew-feeding man... damn!).

Life is good, peeps. Life is good. :) :) :)

Effing Liars

2007-03-17T01:42:00.000-07:00

The people who make Maximum Strength, Sooper Dooper Pooper Ex-Lax are such liars. You'd think that because they manufacture poo-producing products, they'd be total badasses. But you'd be wrong.

The indications on the side of the box of Maximum Strength, Sooper Dooper Pooper Ex-Lax state: For relief of occasional constipation (irregularity). Generally produces bowel movement in 6 to 12 hours.

That's cool, because, like, you could take it in the morning and have a totally cleaned out colon by the time you go to bed. Unless of course, you are me.

Because it'd been about 6 days since my last "development", and because I wanted to wear my new sexy-ass, butt-huggin' jeans this weekend during my trip to Seattle (no, not because I had a hot date or anything, although I wish I did, but because I CAN due to not being as much of a fatass as I was about a year ago, and really, they look so hot when I wear them with my new platform heels), I decided to play it safe and take two Maximum Strength, Sooper Dooper Pooper Ex-Lax on Thursday morning, thinking that by Thursday night I'd be good to go. That's reasonable, right?

:crickets chirping:

Right?

:sound of tree falling in the woods:

Thursday afternoon came and went. Thursday night came and went. I stayed up all Thursday night because I had so much work to do and an early flight on Friday morning. And still, nothing. A full TWENTY FOUR hours passed, people, with no results. I even drank like a gallon of water with it, just for good measure. What do these people want from me, anyway, stupid Ex-Lax people? A kidney?

(Just for the record, if the Ex-Lax people wanted my kidney, I would definitely consider selling it for the cost of my remaining student loan balance. Which is substantial. Email me, Ex-Lax people. You know you want to).

Friday morning, totally discouraged, I head to the airport. I figured... my colon is made of steel, and as such is impervious to even Maximum Strength Ex-Lax. I check in, go through security, and board the plane. After we've been in the air for about 30 minutes, it hits. A full TWENTY SEVEN HOURS after the ingestion. WHILE I AM ON THE PLANE. LIKE, A 5 HOUR PLANE RIDE KINDA PLANE.

No, I didn't use the airplane bathroom, because I have issues. I held it in for the duration of the flight. Why? Because unlike the Ex Lax company, I AM a badass.

P.S. What if someday the Ex Lax people came out with an even STRONGER Ex-Lax? What if THAT Ex-Lax was the actual "Maximum Strength" Ex-Lax? What would happen to the existing Maximum Strength Ex-Lax? Would it retire? Would it simply be known as "The Ex-Lax Formerly Known as Maximum Strength"?).

P.S.S. Happy St. Patrick's Day :)

I'm Goin' Tooo Seeeaaaaaaatle. Neenerrrrr Neenerrrr.

2007-03-15T11:19:00.000-07:00

That's right, peeps. I'll be gone for the next four days, so alas... no wittitude from my end for a while. Suck it up. Deal. You'll get over it.
Why am I going back for a visit?
Because of THIS:

and THIS:

and THIS:

and THIS:

and THIS:

oh yeah, and the coffee too.
AND FRIENDS! Yes, definitely friends. And maybe fresh mini donuts at Pike Place Market. And hiking in the woods. And hot chocolate on a chilly morning while taking in the view of the Olympics towering over Puget Sound as if to beckon you to get your outdoorsy groove on. And.. going to buy a new digital camera! And maybe some shoes.

My visual DNA. I'm so cool.

2007-03-14T16:13:00.000-07:00

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Lego My Bible-o

2007-03-12T18:20:00.000-07:00

I got this link from one of my regular must reads (Thanks Matt!), and I have to say, I am thoroughly enjoying that.

Did you read that, mom? I am actually enjoying reading about the BIBLE. Call Guinness. All that Catholic school edumakashun was good for something, it turns out. And yeah, for all you men out there with hornitude and catholic school girl fantasies, I still have the plaid skirts I used to wear.

Here are some of my favorite images from my new favorite bible (and these are just from the book of Genesis! I don't remember this much sex in the bible! Cheeky.):
Wow. From the Cain and Abel story (Genesis 4:1)

Judah and the prostitute (Genesis 38:18)

Incest at it's best. Nice smirk. (a.k.a. The Seduction of Lot- Genesis 19:35)

Oohhh, Jacob... sexy. (Genesis 29:33)

Jacob is a man whore. (Genesis: 29:30)

Jacob must have had quite a reputation (Genesis 30:4)

Apparently. (Genesis 30:16)

I forgot there was a Reuben in the bible (Genesis 35:22)

Abram and Sarai get it on (Genesis 16:2)

OK, there were alot more images like this, and I'm gettin' lazy (read: horny) and don't wanna post em all. But wow, who knew the bible was so HOT? Who needs porn when you have the bible? I'm gonna go, er, take a break now.

Pfffffffffttttttttttttt!!!!*^%$%#&%&%!!!

2007-03-11T23:03:00.000-07:00

I just read that this movie:

came out TWENTY YEARS AGO this week. TWENTY YEARS AGO. Yeah, you read that correctly, TWENTY YEARS AGO.

I am getting so fucking old. Fuck.

For your viewing pleasure, behold. The only two YouTube videos from this movie (pathetic, huh?):

One Thing I Like About My Job

2007-03-09T11:37:00.000-08:00

Is that I get to stay at home on Fridays to write grants. I should say, "write grants".

This means I get to flip channels during the day while I am "working". Did you know that the ABC family channel shows reruns of Step By Step? Seriously. They do. By the way, whatever happenned to Sasha Mitchell? He was full of hottitude. I would so totally have done him. I mean, if I wasn't the good Catholic girl that my parents raised. *cough*

Back in the early 1990's when this show first came out (tangent: I used to think it was weird when I met adolescents who were born in the 1980's because it made me feel old, because I REMEMBER the 80's. Now I meet adolescents who were born in the 1990's and it is seriously freaking me out), I was in high school. Back then, scrunchies and grunge were typical fashion choices, the U.S. was respected globally, and it was cool to listen to Depeche Mode. Oh, how times have changed. Except that I still listen to Depeche Mode, so shut up.

People, This Is What Happens When You Get Old.

2007-03-07T18:36:00.000-08:00

I posted a couple of days ago that I'm going to be in Seattle this weekend.

That's a lie.

Well, not so much of a lie as much as me being an idiot.

See, I went to print up my itinerary this afternoon, and I was looking at the dates, and..... er.... turns out my ticket is for NEXT weekend, not THIS weekend. HA HA HA.

Der.

New Dinosaur Species? Neat!

2007-03-04T13:14:00.000-08:00

CLEVELAND (March 3, AP) - A new dinosaur species was a plant-eater with yard-long horns over its eyebrows, suggesting an evolutionary middle step between older dinosaurs with even larger horns and the small-horned creatures that followed, experts said.

The dinosaur's horns, thick as a human arm, are like those of triceratops - which came 10 million years later. However, this animal belonged to a subfamily that usually had bony nubbins a few inches long above their eyes.

-------------

For some reason, I can't stop snickering when I read that last sentence. Bony nubbins. *giggle*

Yeah, yeah, I'm a 10 year old. Get over it.

Back in the Emerald City

2007-03-04T00:37:00.001-08:00

I'm headin' back to Seattle next Friday, folks. I'll be staying with my friend Jennifer. Any fellow bloggers in the area wanna get together while I'm in town? Say, for martinis or dim sum? Anyone? :blinks eyelashes:

Strolling Down Memory Lane, Which Is Overgrown With Big 'Ole Thorny Bushes Due To It's Untrodden Nature

2007-02-27T19:02:00.000-08:00

*drumroll*....
And now, back after a brief hiatus (sorry, folks)...is me.

It's funny sometimes, how you forget things simply because you never in a million years think to yourself that there are things you might one day want to remember. Little things. Like the amazing quesadilla you ate once at a place out on Highway 20. Like a trip to a wastewater plant to go hunting in the bushes for fighter jets on a keychain. Like the smell of fireworks drifting in through the window screen. Like the horror and subsequent laughter at someone wiping their boogers on their jeans with nonchalance. Like the first time you saw a puppy get sick and actually produce projectile diarrhea.

I was back in Seattle this past weekend, where I spent time with old friends, and I've gotta say---I felt homesick. Despite the fact that Seattle isn't really my "home" (that'd be Albuquerque, where I grew up), it was the one city I've lived in during my lifetime (there have been many) that I truly FELT was home to me. So many things I miss about Seattle- the water, the mountains, the amazing views (*sigh*... the views), the musty Seattle smell that also simultaneously smells like freshly cut green grass, the Craftsman style houses (which, mark my words, I will own one of someday if I ever make a bizillion dollars, which basically means I will never own one, fuck.), the tall-as-buildings evergreens towering over every neighborhood, and the taste of steamy hot chocolate on a ferry to the San Juans...these are the things I didn't forget. The things I couldn't forget. The things that remind me, once again, that I'm not where I want to be right now.

And now for the totally random image of the day.

Mama Toots

2007-02-21T21:08:00.000-08:00

My folks are seriously funny people. Not funny "ha ha" funny, but funny in a decidedly inadvertent fashion. My dad, for example, has some MAJOR grump-itude. I often describe him as a cross between Fred Flinstone and Archie Bunker without the bigotry. My mom, God love her, is incredibly emotional and sensitive, and throws out direct insults when she's angry about something. But sometimes....when they're being inadvertently funny....I have embarassing physiological reactions because I'm laughing so hard. Like this morning, for example:

We all went to church because we are Good Catholics (well, my parents are anyway), and today is Ash Wednesday. After church, we went out for brunch. My dad and I engaged in our traditional brunch discussion (today's topic: which declared presidential candidate from the Democratic party does my father believe has the best chance of winning next year's election) as we were eating our huevos (with beaucoup green chile, natch). While we were doing that, my mom's cell phone rang, so she picked it up. Apparently the signal was pretty bad, so she got up from her chair, walked over to the other side of the restaurant, and stood next to the window.

I know, it seems like a perfectly normal story so far, right? It gets better.

So there's my ma, standing over by the window. I neglected to mention that she walked in between two groups of people seated at tables near the window, and stood there, talking on her cell phone. Let me reiterate: she was so close to the people at these two tables that she almost had to squeeze her butt through them to stand right next to them while talking loudly on her cell phone. This did not go over well with the other patrons, let me tell you.

But that's not all.

Whoever she was talking to on the phone must have said something really funny because my mother erupted with a loud guffaw.

Still, that's not all. Are you ready for this?

When she laughed, it apparently created a significant amount of abdominal pressure. Because while she laughed, she also farted. Loudly. A greasy, old lady, mama fart (I've discussed this before on this blog, repeatedly). This also did not go over well with the people who happenned to be sitting mere inches away from her ass.

Slightly mortified, but more amused than anything, my mom waddles back to our table, and announces in a voice much louder than was necessary, "I TOOTED!"

This was followed, of course, by my explosive laughing. But of course, it wasn't just any laugh, because I was drinking water at the time. I thus proceeded to blow said water out of my nose and onto my green chile (and now also wet and slightly booger-y) huevos.

Ironically, as I was driving back to Texas tonight, I stopped to get an iced tea at a convienience store. The name of the convienience store? "Toot n' Totums". I mean it. Seriously.

On a side note, despite the fact that "Totums" is misspelled, does the name of the store mean Toot AND Totums, or Tootin' Totums? Because you know, Tootin' Totums would make really nice souvenirs.

'Querque Bloggin'

2007-02-19T13:45:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm back in Albuquerque, again, the city where I was born and raised. You know, no matter how often I come home, there's always a kind of magical quality about being back here with my family. From the green chile fixes (LORD, the green chile, it's like my heroin) to the melt-in-your-mouth cinnamon rolls at Frontier, the mama hugs and the daddy grumbles, there really isn't anyplace like home to me.

But then there are the things about Albuquerque that make me laugh, because seriously, are people here sometimes that stupid? Case in point: the news. Specifically: last night's broadcast.

One of the lead stories was about an elderly gentleman with a penchant for shooting off his Smith and Wesson. In the general direction of minorities. The whole news story goes on for about 5 minutes, describing this guy, his motives (he didn't like the way they treated his son, a contractor with a not-so-great track record), and how he was arrested for attempted murder. Surprisingly, this isn't the stupid part.

Remember, the guy was arrested. And at the end of the broadcast, the reporter said, not once, but twice, that calls to the gentleman's house went unanswered.

Um. Trying to phone the local jail might have helped.

Also, incredulously, the city of Albuquerque is planning on building some new soccer fields in a neighborhood park across town near a new development. The cost of the project (estimated at approximately 5-10 acres)?

TWENTY MILLION DOLLARS.

$20 million, for some sprinklers and some sod. Clearly, I am in the wrong profession. Note to the city: hire me to manage this project. I'll do it for less than a mil. And then I can take the rest of the money, buy a nice little high bank (in case of tsunamis, of course) spread in the San Juan islands, have a mahogany paneled library with a fireplace, comfy chair, and a wall of windows that looks out over Puget Sound so I can watch the orca migration every year and see the sun set over the water in what is perhaps the most beautiful scenery known to MAN. I will also have a personal trainer who will get my ass up and out of bed (where I would otherwise lounge at all times in my comfy pajamas when I am not in the aforementioned library in my comfy chair with a fire to warm my always cold toe-sies), and this trainer will be hot man candy (probably gay, unfortunately for me) and will teach me exercises that will keep me trim and toned without even breaking a sweat or even elevating my heartrate above its standard resting rate. I will drink cosmopolitans all day and have much, much raunchy sex with my special someone. I will be philanthropic and give my money to causes near and dear to my heart. And I will own a villa near Firenze, so that I may visit the Bargello and the Uffizi gallery every single summer and cry every time I see Boticelli's La Primavera in real life. Also, there will be much gelato. And risotto. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, risoooottttttttttooooo. Paul Allen will be my neighbor. I will make him homemade scones with devonshire cream and we will share a gardener. I make delightful scones.

Valentine's Day Musings (A Little Bit Of Everything)

2007-02-14T10:28:00.000-08:00

I thought I would be cynical this Valentine's Day. You know, because I had my heart ripped out and stomped on, stomped into little, unidentifiable, bleeding bits just a few short months ago by The Now Ex. Check the archives, yo.

Instead, I'm feeling pretty damn great about this Valentine's Day, and it's wiped away my cynicism (sorry, Jennifer, I know you were counting on me). Hope on the horizon has a tendency to do that to a person, after all.

But because the spirit of this blog, at least historically, has been to comment on the more absurd, juvenile bits and pieces I come across, I couldn't resist doing another installment of "bad gift ideas" for this particular holiday. This is for you, Jennifer :). So here you go. Some of my favorite Bad Valentine's Day Gift Ideas:

The ultimate el cheapo gift for the one you love (I like how it reminds you in amusing fashion that it's "a #2 pen!"):

Cacas. The Encyclopedia of Poo (Every time I say the word "caca", it makes me laugh out loud. I'm such an adolescent):

Fart Wall Clock:

How To Have An Affair And Never Get Caught:

The Floating Turd (I think this would look lovely on a valentine's day cupcake):

I'm Pregnant And I Know Who The Father Is (this would be best if the title ended with "And It Isn't You"):

Richard Simmons' Disco Sweat ("No, honey, you aren't FAT.... you're obese"):

The Very Best of Yanni is the Very Worst Gift Ever (you might as well just give your loved one a card that reads "I hate you".):

For the more direct significant other: You're Not Very Important:

Mental Laxatives for a Constipated Mind (it's almost as if I wrote this):

Babe, You're Lookin' A Little Sasquatch-y:

The not-so-subtle gift: Sex For Dummies:

So. Effing. Awesome.

2007-02-13T12:22:00.000-08:00

My brother in law sent me an email yesterday with two attachments. Here was the first one (sorry about the poor quality of this photo, it was printed in a newspaper):

That's a picture of my nonna, my mama's mama, holding a photo of her with my mother and my uncle, right before they boarded the ship from Italy to America in 1946. I don't remember much about her, because she lived on the east coast, and I only saw her about once a year. I remember her gravelly voice, her "old lady" smell, the way she used to struggle with chewing solid foods, and how surprised I was when I saw her naked for the first time when I was 9 years old and she was staying at my parents' house prior to being put in a nursing home. Her boobs hung down past her waist, and I remember being a little weirded out about that. At the time, I didn't know boobs did that in old age (this does not, by the way, bode well for me and my ginormous mammaries- mine will probably hang down to my ankles when I'm in my 80's).

My nonna died when I was 14, of alzheimer's. And while I'd heard all the great stories about her from my mother and my aunts and uncles, I never really knew much about her life. So when my brother in law sent me the photo, he also sent along the text from a newspaper article that was written about her 22 years ago. This is what the article said:

By LARRY PERL
Journal staff writer
Dec. 6, 1946 — America would be like “a beautiful garden,” Caterina D’Onofrio tried to convince herself aboard the crowded cargo ship of Italian immigrants approaching New York’s Ellis Island in the fog. Caterina was 48 and didn’t really want to go to America. During the next four decades, she would come to love the nation and a part of it called Prince George’s County. Back then, however, she worried about bringing her rambunctious son, Antonio, 11, and tearful, homesick daughter Angiolina, 15, on such a long journey toward — toward what? She was deeply disturbed about leaving behind her older children, John and Teresa, plus her parents, relatives and friends.
Caterina couldn’t understand what her husband, Carmine, saw in America, where he was a citizen and had spent three out of every five years since 1918. She hadn’t seen him in more than three years. True, Carmine’s letters depicted a land of opportunity and “comodita” — comfort and convenience — for those who worked hard. His intention was to save enough money to bring his family across the Atlantic Ocean. But every time Carmine left Italy, Caterina felt that he was abandoning her. Every time he returned temporarily, she felt that he was itching to leave again. “She didn’t want to understand,” Angiolina would say years later.

Caterina had decided that she could live without opportunity in the land she had always known, reeling as it was from World War II. She could live without convenience. She could live without ever seeing America. But she could not live without Carmine. And he was waiting for her at Ellis Island, where her immigration processing would take place. She pictured a beautiful garden until the New York skyline came into view, muddied by darkness and fog. Even “La Statua Di Liberta” was a dim, gray silhouette, not at all its postcard self. Caterina wondered, “This is America?”

At 87, Caterina D’Onofrio finally has a perspective on the United States. In those first days, she felt “very strange.” Such things as sandwiches and refrigerators had no immediate meaning. For a woman who had come from a house in a village with land all around, it seemed senseless for streetcars to roll past houses, or to attach several houses together — rowhouses. But now, she understands the nation — its food, architecture and ideals. “Now, this is America,” she said. “It’s certainly better than Italy.”

Caterina, Carmine, Angiolina and Antonio settled in Northeast Washington D.C. Carmine worked as a water purification plant operator at Andrews Air Force Base. In 1949, Caterina’s daughter, Teresa, came from Italy, followed a year later by Caterina’s son, John. Carmine died in 1969. Caterina later lived in Forestville with Teresa. Caterina now lives in Villa Rosa nursing home in Mitchellville. Antonio (Tony) lives in Wheaton. John lives in Philadelphia. Angiolina (Angie), who lives in Albuquerque, N.M., is visiting family members here.

Caterina is frail, but her mind is active. Last week, she, Tony and Angie gave as detailed a chronology as they could recall of their journey, the immigration process at Ellis Island, and the poignant reunion with Carmine. Caterina spoke mostly in Italian, with translation by Angie and Tony, plus Theresa, who joined the conversation. “That’s a long time ago. That’s history.” Caterina said, as she studied an old photograph taken of the family before they boarded the ship in Italy. “That’s you, Ma,” Tony said, pointing at the young woman in the photo. “I know that,” Caterina snapped in English. “And I have my long hair.”

Tony could hardly contain his excitement and Angie was in tears as they and Caterina left the city of Lanciano in central Italy on Nov. 18, 1946, soon after the end of the war, and traveled to Naples to board the Merchant Marine cargo ship, the Marine Perch. They packed two suitcases with clothes, snacks and essential documents.
“I was so distraught I was sick,” said Angie, 55, who remembers not wanting to leave her friends. “Sure, I wanted to come here, but it was a heartache leaving.” Tony, 50, remembers gaily telling his hometown teacher, “Vado via,” which translates roughly as, “I’m history,” he said. “I left there so happy. I knew there had to be some place better to live.”

They spent two weeks aboard the ship, staying in barracks-like cabins with four or five bunk beds in each cabin. Caterina and Angie were sea sick and ill at ease much of the time. “The attendant kept telling me to go up on deck and get some fresh air,” Caterina said. Tony roamed every inch of the vessel, collecting empty Coca-Cola bottles that he sold back to ship officials for 5 cents a bottle.

The D’Onofrios spent Thanksgiving Day at sea, sitting with other immigrants, at long dining room tables laden with strange poultry and exotic foods like grapefruit, which Caterina said she couldn’t stomach, even with sugar. Tony discovered the joys of cheese crackers, eating “several pounds.” They don’t specifically remember eating turkey. “I wouldn’t have known one if I’d seen it,” Tony said.

As children of Carmine, by now an American citizen, Tony and Angie were considered citizens, too. They had American passports and were allowed to get off the ship at Ellis Island before immigrants. Caterina, who came with an Italian passport, was grudgingly allowed to go with them. Hearts pounding, they stepped inside a cavernous, colorless immigration center. They remember countless people and mass confusion as they were steered toward a waiting area outside a large processing room walled by glass windows. “This is beautiful,” Caterina said, her eyes roaming the station in search Carmine.

They stayed overnight before being called into the “glass room” where they were medically examined and processed. An immigration official started Angie’s Americanization by misspelling Angiolina as Angelina on documents. They immediately searched in earnest for Carmine. “My father, whenever he was looking for someone raised his hat,” Angie said. “of course, there were a lot of people raising their hats.” Suddenly, Caterina saw old family friends and with them, her husband. She remembers, “It was like a dream. . . There they are. . . Is this happening?”
She doesn’t remember Carmine’s first words to her — or hers to him. She only remembers blurting out everything “good and bad” all at once "I mixed it all up," she said chuckling. They toured the city with Carmine’s cabdriver friend. Angie got a “perm” and a wristwatch. Tony got an overcoat. Caterina was “quite impressed” with her first look at La Statua Di Liberta in daylight.

Two days later, they left for Washington and a full life with Carmine, whose job at Andrews Air Force which allowed him to send the children to Catholic school. Eventually, Carmine sponsored 30 other family members still in Italy, so that they could come to the United States.

Tony is now an Army electronic technician in Wheaton. Angie runs Angelina’s Country Store in Albuquerque. “I’m a businesswoman," she said with pride and lingering amazement. Both participated in Hands Across America recently- Angie in Alburquerque and Tony on Rockville Pike.

Caterina has been back to Italy once and said her homeland changed for the better. “But I’d rather live here,” she said. “The things we do here, we could never do in Italy.” She sees America as the garden of her dreams 40 years ago. “Mazzolini di fiore,” she said, a bunch of flowers. It’s not always easy being an American, especially when you’re from someplace else. But the promises of American freedom — symbolized for 100 years now by the Statue of Liberty — have been found worth the price by generations of American immigrants.

Prince George’s counts some 40,000 foreign-born among its residents. This year, 47 immigrants have become naturalized citizens in Prince George’s courts while unnumbered others who have settled here have taken the citizenship oath in courts elsewhere in Maryland. This week, amid the hoopla accorded the Statue of Liberty’s centennial celebration, three immigrants reflect on what it’s taken to make America their country, too.

Warning: Serious Post Below

2007-02-12T15:44:00.000-08:00

Have you ever felt as though you've been to hell and back?

I can relate.

I've refrained from going into detail on this here blog o' mine about what that experience was like, in part because I saved it all for my other blog. My private blog, wherein I chronicle all things hell-related for the people closest to me. I don't usually talk about emotional crap, so that's my way of communicating how I've been and what's been going on with me in the past few months without having to actually say it out loud.

THIS blog, though...this is where I chronicle the things that make me smile. In looking back over my previous posts for the last couple of years, it's pretty clear that the last few months have been less...amusing. For good reason, certainly.

The important thing, though, is that I have a feeling that the blog will pick up again soon. Things are looking up, folks. I'm closing the door on some of the baggage, putting it in a closet with a huge lock, so to speak.

In any case, I figured I would close this post in the spirit of what used to be this blog, way back when, at the very least for posterity:

I totally pooped this past weekend. GO ME!!!! :)