Friday, July 29, 2005
Knowing My Key Demographic
Ok, so because of the word 'greetings' in the title of my blog, I get a lot of searches for greeting cards, electronic and other. Sometimes I think I should make a list and submit them to Hallmark to say, "This is what the market wants."

But hey, I'm lazy.

Here are a few of the better ones from this week.

greetings for a coworker leaving a company
funny birthday greetings to a christian person
Confessions of my love greetings
getting well greetings cards

and my new favorite ......
sleep with me greetings

I love that someone would a.) make a greeting card for this, and b.) that someone would actually broach the issue in greeting card form.


mind map& vj - Er, yes. I have a mind map. I can find you. *scary music*

her smokers cough - Sexy. Not sure why you'd be seeking this out, but .........

"torr david" usmc - Torr, someone is after you. It might be a coworker of mine, I showed her a picture of you and, well, you know how it is ...............

And the winner in the 'You'll Have To Be A BIT More Specific' catagory -

Blogs - I wonder what my rank is on that search?

Lest I give the wrong idea...........
.......... with my last post, there are just as many things to love about living with roommates as well. But 'Rez is writing a post about that as we speak and since I'm sure she's covering all the obvious points like raiding for a cup of milk and clean socks, I'm just going to give specific examples.

Times I was glad I had a roommate.

Those times when I wanted a cold soda and hadn't thought to buy any.

That one time I woke up at 1 AM and couldn't sleep and neither could my roomie so we drank coffee and laid on the dining room table all night and pretended the house was upside down and planned how we would re-arrange the purple suede couches on the ceiling.

When I was adjusting to life in Minnesota and didn't know that sometimes they sound the tornado sirens just to test them.

All those times I needed quarters for laundry.

That one cold day when we sat on the washer and dryer and made dirty jokes while our clothes got clean.

When I bought that really adorable dress for an event and couldn't wait to show someone.

When I was so depressed that even having someone to be angry at gave me something to feel.

When I didn't have to find a strange petsitter that my cats were afraid of.

All those times I learned to calm down, clean it myself, watch my tongue or say a sincere, "I'm sorry, I was thoughtless, how can I fix it?"

When she remembered when the electric bill was due, and actually had a stamp.

When I had that recipe calling for some obscure and unpronounceable spice and my roommate actually had some so I didn't have to make a trip at 10pm for an $8 bottle of something I'd never use again.

All those timesI brought people over to an apartment I hadn't cleaned and blamed the mess on my roommate.

All those times I blamed the prank calls on my roommate.

Getting a new set of friends.

All those south american recipes my old roomie used to try to teach me.

Those couple of times when she's watching America's Next Top Model and rooting for that really annoying whiny chick that stands for all the girls you hated in high school and you're reading a book and you are about to go to bed and you notice she's fallen asleep and you tuck the crocheted blanket (that her mother made that's so ugly but she insists on having on the couch in the living room) around her toes and turn off the annoying show and shuffle off in your old ratty pjs that you only wear when it's too hot for flannel and too cold for shorts/tank top and you leave the hall light on for her even though it drives her nuts when you leave lights on and you smile as you reach your bedroom door and think it's nice to know that you can live with someone and know everything about her, including every maddening little habit and still actually like her, and if two girls with nothing in comman can live in a tight space with a limited budget and not only not kill each other but actally still like each other, then in a sense, there's hope for the world.

Things I Love About Living Alone
No more trying to remember if it's my term to vaccum. If it's dirty, its my fault and I need to clean it. No more pawing through the calender to figure out if I feel guilty or indignant. So much mental effort saved.

No more phone calls to roommates while in the hygiene aisle at the drugstore asking what color her disposable razors are, so you can buy a different color.

Lots and lots of walking around naked.

I don't have to 'justify' a new pet.

No one has to know how much I talk to my pets.

I don't have to look at someone else's furnishings and say, "I can work with this .................. I guess."

I can put the coffee maker in my bedroom if I want.

I don't have to sit around and make polite conversation with other people's guests.

I can put all my shoes in a basket in the living room and just decide that they belong there.

When I find money in the couch cushions, I don't have to ask around, it's mine.

No one has to know how many times I watch George of the Jungle.

Baking Cookies With A Cat
The long awaited sequel to Wrapping Presents With A Cat

1. Look in cookbook for cookie recipe.
2. Get cup of coffee.
3. Get cat off of cookbook.
4. Find that special recipe.
5. Get cat's nose out of coffee mug.
6. Go to fridge and get eggs.
7. Get dry ingredients from cupboard.
8. Break eggs in small bowl.
9. Sift dry ingredients in large bowl.
10. Answer the phone.
11. Cat ate eggs; get more from fridge.
12. Get cat out of flour bowl and dust cat off.
13. Get Band-Aids for scratches on hands.
14. Throw flour out and get more.
15. Preheat oven for cookies.
16. Glare at cat with desire to bake cat now.
17. Watch cat run for cover into bathroom.
18. Flour the counter to roll out cookie dough.
19. Run to bathroom to investigate loud crashing sound.
20. Cat has toilet paper all over floor and your personal bathroom things knocked over on top of the counter.
21. Yell at cat. Cat falls in toilet bowl.
22. Take cat out of toilet to dry cat off.
23. Get bandages to cover more scratches on arms and legs.
24. Clean up bathroom.
25. Run to kitchen to see what cat is doing now.
26. Get wet cat off floured counter in kitchen.
27. Try to pick cat hairs out of flour.
28. Step on cat's tail and get bitten.
29. Get coat, car keys, and go to store to buy cookies.
30. Casually fling cat onto the roof of a passing Winnebago
31. Act surprised when you find that the cat has made it home before you.

It's the 60% they don't define...........
You Are 40% Weird

Normal enough to know that you're weird...
But too damn weird to do anything about it!

See, the implication is that the leftover 60% is 'normal', but in my case it breaks down this way.

40% Weird

12% Aquired taste

37% Shameless

8% Tea Leaves

3% Playful Ass Grabs

Thursday, July 28, 2005
Knowing My Key Demographic

jane's sexy feet - Here.

"Magic ballet shoes" - It makes me so happy that someone out there is searching for these. Welcome, I love you.

samer momani - AH-MAZE-ZING nature photographer

VJ says - A lot.

What the world needs now........
........... is more little girls in tap shoes.

Story Hour
Last night I saw an old high school classmate. I'll call him Nick. Wanna hear a story about Nick?

So in high school I was too busy with my dance classes and later with my busted knees to cheer, but they'd call on me from time to time to do mascot appearances and stuff. One time the cheer coach asked me to do an away game at a particular school, because we really "needed the wholesome school spirit."

See, our last game at this gang-ridden high school ended in an all-out brawl between the teams that required a riot squad from the police to break it up, and the coachs were axious to get through this game showing maturity and class, and of course to really drive the point home, to win. I'm promised an escort, so I don't get beaten up by the opposing fans.

So the mascot costume, horrible memories there. We were the "Patriots," so atop my revolutionary soldier costume, I had to wear this HUGE foam head, with tiny eyeholes.

So, there we are at the game. We're bouncing around, doing our cheer thing. And what better think to give to the top heavy, visually impaired cheerleader who's bouncing around in a crowd? A flag on a very long pole. How could that go wrong?

I took out the star football player, Nick. I hit him square in the back with the pole. His injured back. His own personal achillies (sp?) heel. The star football player, taken out by his own cheerleader.

I remember looking up at the stands and thinking, "Bet no one here has ever seen a football team beat the shit out of their OWN mascot before."

My escorts and I hid in the bathroom until everyone had gone.

Happiness is ............
........... cookies and milk for breakfast.

........... opening to the exact page you were looking for.

........... staying up late to write.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Rock 'n Roll or Not?
So it occurred to me as I was paying for my purchases at Guitar Center last night and complaining about the music volume that I'm not cool anymore.

Well, I mean, I couldn't hear the guy tell me my total so I just grabbed a couple twenties, and let him take what he wanted. I couldn't even guess my total, because I couldn't seem to find one price tag on anything in the store besides guitar picks. Apparently price tags just aren't rock and roll.

Since I've lost my inate sense of what's cool or not, the sense that just comes with youth and leaves the day you WANT to spend your hard-earned money on the premium toilet paper, I've been trying to use the subtle cues of the place to stay in touch with what's rock and roll.
So, price tags, NOT ROCK.
Security, TOTALLY ROCK, apparently. I had to be approved by a security guard to even enter the store, and I had to have my purchases and recipt compared before I could leave. No bags allowed until I reached the exit. Bags, NOT ROCK.

Petty theft, TOTALLY ROCK, I guess.

This can't be good.
My mint tea smells like pot.

Another Actual IM Conversation
Discussing our interview with BR -

Thérèse says:
and, did you notice, veaj, how many times we said the same thing at the same time?

Valancy Jan says:
Yeah. That's us.

JMsy says:
ALWAYS!!! lol

Thérèse says:

JMsy says:
except... you both sound far more mature in ur voices which really shocked me lol

Valancy Jane says:

JMsy says:
i always think of you as two ten year olds with braids and pigtails lol
(but not in a dodgy way I hasten to add)

Thérèse says:
*looks at veaj* i don't think we've been accused of that one before.

Valancy Jane says:
Yeah, no, never come up before.

JMsy says:
yeh ur voices sound the right age for you

Thérèse says:
would you say we sound similar?

Valancy Jane says:
I think we do.

JMsy says:
yeh, although you do have slightly different accents and speeds

Valancy Jane says:

JMsy says:
vj speaks like a freight train with a bomb and a cargo of mad chickens on board that's late, rez you speak like a freight train which is about on time.

Thérèse says:
ok, REALLY though, no one's EVER accused me of being on TIME
*is blown away at that one*

JMsy says:
lol I said "about on time" vj's accent has depth, but with a hint of little girl excited in it, rez is the same, but her little girl is very thoughtful and giggles a lot, and ponders alot

Thérèse says:
i can see that.

JMsy says:
vj also has a hint of brassy in her voice which makes me laugh, and then hide lol

Thérèse says:
i think veaj sounds like a slow, slow, thick, creamy toffee, enjoyed on a picnic blanket in the middle of a busy park, where all sorts of things are happening around, and you look around to enjoy each different thing, while the toffee melts in your mouth slowly.

Valancy Jane says:
'Rezzie sounds like my first cup of coffee in the morning. The one that makes me human.

Thérèse says:
*giggle* i make you human? i do believe i'm flattered.
aww, jmsy likes my "accent." *rolls eyes*

JMsy says:
its gentle! whereas vj's accent is more pronounced
quite interesting actually!
*is a nerd on accents now*

Thérèse says:
*is puzzled*

Valancy Jane says:
I'm an accent nerd too.

Thérèse says:
i have a gentle accent and veaj has a pronounced accent?
if you say so.

Valancy Jane says:
Yes, I sound like mad chickens, remember?

Thérèse says:

JMsy says:
yeh, vj's is definitely stronger, but urs is more like a country version of hers

Thérèse says:
*is offended*

JMsy says:
lol oops did i say the wrong thing?

Valancy Jane says:
When you're discussing accents, 'country' = 'sounds uneducated'.

Thérèse says:
i suppose i do live in the country, even if it is the CAPITAL CITY of a PROVINCE that is BIGGER (goegraphically) than your ENTIRE eighth of your COUNTRY!!!

JMsy says:
I dont mean as in toothless prophet bob or anything!! not like that!
its lilting

Valancy Jane says:
*strokes 'Rezzie's hand* He didn't mean it like that, honey.

Thérèse says:
*crosses arms and waits for what exactly was meant by "country"*

JMsy says:
gentle, meandering, like a stream

Valancy Jane says:
See, he said 'lilting'.

Thérèse says:
i'll have you KNOW that i HAVE an EDUCA--- oh.

Valancy Jane says:
I'm mad chickens and you're lilting.

Thérèse says:
*is pleased*
*nodding* and you do sound like mad chickens veaj. in the best possible way.

Valancy Jane says:
I do.
I'll own it.
It's true.

Thérèse says:
i like that he said you have a "brassy" quality to your voice.

Thérèse says:
it totally works.

JMsy says:
AH!!! I can call you trombone girl!!!
or saxophone girl, that has an element of seductiveness to it and class I guess....
hmmmm... what instrument would you be rez.... *thinks*

Valancy Jane says:
Sax Girl?
Sounds like a typo waiting to happen.

As promised, for Bathroom Reading.....
Light Baggage (for Zora, Nella, Jean)*
by Alice Walker

there is magic
lingering after people
to whom success is merely personal.
who, when the public prepares a feast
for their belated acceptance parties,
pack it up like light baggage
and disappear into the swamps of Florida
or go looking for newer Gods
in the Oak country
of Pennsylvania.
Or decide, quite suddenly, to try nursing,
midwifery, anonymous amoung the sick and poor.
Stories about such people
tell us little;
and if a hundred photographs survive
each one will show a different face.
someone out of step. alone out there, absorbed;
fishing in the waters of experience
a slouched back against the shoulders
of the world.

*Zora Neale Hurston, Nella Larson, and Jean Toomer wrote and published their best work during the twenties and thirties. At some point in their careers each of them left the "career" of writing and went off seeking writing's very heart: life itself. Zora went back to her native Florida where she lived in a one-room cabin and raised her own food; Jean Toomer became a Quaker and country philosopher in Bucks County, Pennsylvania; and Nella Larson, less well known than either Hurston or Toomer, became a nurse.

Another Actual IM Conversation
Valancy Jane says:
'Rezzie, I hurt.

Thérèse says:
you hurt? i can't believe it.

Valancy Jane says:

Thérèse says:
we're synchronized despite the distance.

Valancy Jane says:

Thérèse says:
*shakes head*

Valancy Jane says:
That's disturbing and yet I utterly believe it.

Thérèse says:
this is just reaching new levels of weird, you know.

Valancy Jane says:
I know.

So I was weirdly emotional yesterday, for a number of reasons. Not the least of which I will shed some light on by plugging this WONDERFUL product. Ladies, really. FAB - BU - LOUS.

Anyhoooo, yesterday morning I was delivering the mail around the building and after dropping the CEO's mail on his desk, I looked up and was greeting by a catastrophe in his fish tank. Lots of dead fish, lovely sight to start the morning. Poor widdle fish.

Then I helped this woman find a vet that will make house calls to put down her very old dog. That was emotional.

That afternoon at lunch I finished a book about a woman who was murdered by her abusive husband, after which, he got custody of their kids.

By the time I got to this site, I was ready for a good cry, and believe me, I CRIED. Not like 'teared up' cried, like 'full on, blew my nose, had to explain myself to my coworkers' cried.

Of course all the emotion wasn't just PMS-fueled. Over-full shelters are a sign of mankind's often broken pact with domesticated animals. When people began to breed out of wild animals their traits of independence and survival skills, we effectivally made a pact with them, that they would trade their liberty for security. That they would learn to live with us, and we would protect them from harm. Sadly, many people don't live up to their end of the bargin.

One comman misconception/convienent excuse people use to dodge their responsibility is assuming that a housecat can fend for itself if left behind or dumped in a back alley. The average life span of a feral cat is 2-3 years, and that's a cat that grew up in that enviroment, not your little house kitty thats never had to eat something that didn't come in a can. Same for dogs. Abandonment usually equals a slow and painful starvation, or being attacked by other animals. Even being picked up by Animal Control and being put down better than this.

And the amount of animals laugishing in shelters and private foster groups, while people buy from pet stores and backyard breeders is shameful. Want a specific breed, age or color? Fine, I guarantee you a shelter near you has it. What's your excuse?

*steps off soapbox, goes and plays Tampon Bowling to wind down*

I'm Just Saying.....
Oh, so I'm reading this article. The first sentence, well.............. read it.

NASHVILLE, Tenn. -- Mindy McCready apparently attempted suicide, and a man charged last spring with trying to kill her was with the country singer when police found her unconscious in a Florida hotel lobby, authorities said Tuesday.

Wait a tic. *keeps reading*

William McKnight, 39, had been charged with attempted criminal homicide and aggravated burglary in an attack on the 28-year-old entertainer earlier this year. The couple had broken up about two weeks before the attack, which occurred at McCready's Nashville home.
McKnight, who described himself as McCready's fiance, told authorities at the Holiday Inn Harborside in Indian Rocks Beach that she had taken a large amount of two substances and drank a lot of alcohol, according to a Pinellas County Sheriff's Department report.

Hmmm. Lets go over that first sentence one more time.

Mindy McCready apparently attempted suicide, and a man charged last spring with trying to kill her was with the country singer when police found her unconscious in a Florida hotel lobby, authorities said Tuesday.

Hmmm. No, still sounds weird to me.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005
T-Shirts I Need

Go read Mr. Sun.
Every thing I wanna write about, Mr. Sun does it first and far better.

More thoughts on the Pigeon Lady.
When I think of a hero, oddly enough, the image of the Pigeon Lady comes to mind. Why? I'll explain.

I remember being a very little kid, and discovering the joy of feeding ducks at a local pond. At first thrilled to have the ducks comes so close and look so happy about the stale bread bits, it quickly turned to dismay when hundreds of ducks crowded around. I remember looking down at my little bag of dried bread and back up at all the ducks and feeling that it was all so unfair. I was unconsolable that I COULDN'T FEED THEM ALL.

As I grew up, I had that feeling about many of life's problems. I couldn't clothe ALL of the mexican orphans the church was collecting clothes for, I couldn't feed all the homeless men and no matter how much I did, there would always be more people in need.

I don't think I was the only one that felt discouraged about even trying, and would rather just ignore the problem.

As I became an adult, I realized that sometimes the hardest thing you can do is take your little handful of what you have, time or money or love, to one little flock and not be discouraged by what you cannot do.

Neighborhood Characters
The Ice Cream Man.

A dark haired hispanic man, in perhaps his thirties, he stands all day, every day, by the curb and just stares at the cars passing. As I understand it, he has some mental promblems, but I like to think he's just waiting for a ice cream truck. I'm tempted to wait with him, some days.

The Pigeon Lady

Everyday on her morning walk, in her purple velor track suit, she drops a handful of birdseed on the lawn of the apartment complex across from mine. Thanks to her sponsorship, we have our own flock of pigeons, that coo so musically every morning.

My Backup Cat

Maximus has a twin. A little black and white cat in the neighborhood that has fooled both JR and my AJN into thinking Max had gotten out and chasing him all over the complex. If I wasn't certain that Max had a.) never gotten out and b.) was fixed, I would suspect Max of being this cat's father, the resemblance is that eerie.

Evan amuses me so.
Today I did a much-overdue load of laundry and about half of the way through, the washing machine stopped working . That is, it filled up with water and washed for a little while, but when it came time to drain and spin, there was no draining and no spinning. So I threw all my clothes in the bathtub and spent the next 20 minutes hunched over my clothes with the shower head, rinsing. After that, I tried to ring out as much water as possible. Somewhere in there, I found myself bent over thinking "see...if I were rich I would miss out on fun stuff like this...I don't want to be rich."

So then I said.........
........... in my interview, "I don't remember a time when I didn't know 'Rez. Sure it was like, last year, but I don't remember it."

I have achieved fame and found that it is ........
............ weird.

*sitting, drinking coffee, listening to an interview of ME.*

Since it's quite long, here is the gist of it. But if you listen to the entire thing, BR sings.

Monday, July 25, 2005
Some More Random Images That Make Me Happy.
Me in my PJs, texting JR, Art aka Coco's lawn after Lou and I were done with it, and Dulce guarding my laundry basket. I'll let you figure out which is which.

Weekend Update with Jimmy Fallon and Tina Fey
Friday night was our double date with Paul and Lola at Ciao Bellas. I love the owner, Francesco. He kissed me vigorously, TWICE. I call that desert. His adorable wife is pregnant. Again. The menu and the waiter are equaly incomprehensible, so I recommend turning the 'what would you like' question around. Say, 'I don't know, what would I like?' The food, well, anyone that's ever been there can tell you the food is an orgasm on white china, and if you haven't been there, you need to. Even if you have to take an airplane to get there, you really NEED to go. Francesco will kiss you for it, I'm sure.

After dinner we went to see the movie, The Island with ScarJo and Ewan. Pretty Ewan. I heart you so. I really enjoyed how dazed Scarlett looked during most of the movie. The movie was very impausible and very eye candy and very watchable. The perfect sort of movie to do a running joking commentary on, annoying everyone around you. And Lola is just perfect person to do the running commentary with. Lola, I heart you more than Ewan. I heart you more than the dazed look on ScarJo's face. I love that during the previews you forget which movie you bought tickets for, just like me.

After the movie we went to my favorite coffee shop, which in the future I think I will simply refer to as 'my coffee shop'. There was a lightening storm over the mountains, so we stood outside in the summer moonlight and watched the lightening illuminate the clouds, like a lightbulb in one of my chinese lantern lamps.

I could barely sleep that night, as it was about 126 million degrees in my apartment, but strangely, I didn't really mind. I lay in bed half asleep and listened to the thunder. Rain is rare enough around here, thunder comes maybe once a year and this was THUNDER.

I got up early to drive to Ike's in LA (about a 2-3 hour drive north), but I stopped off at ZezZee's because I had her work badge in my purse from Thursday when she got her hair cut and I figured she might need it. I arrived about five minutes before she was supposed to leave for work, but instead she played hooky and came to LA with me on a whim. I'm so glad she did, it was nice to have someone to talk to on the drive. We listened to Vanessa Carlton and talked of 'cabbages and kings'.
We arrived and went to Ike's office to play with Google Earth and prank call 'Rez. Thats when Ike dropped the bombshell that this was probably the last time I would be able to drive up and see him, because he is moving back to Canada.
Then we went to Trader Joes for sandwiches, grapefruit soda, peaches, strawberries and french bread. Have I mentioned my deep and passionate love of Trader Joes?

Then we headed to the beach for an afternoon I can only describe as golden. The sort of summer afternoon you know will be a memory forever, made all the more bittersweet because I wondered if I'd ever see Ike in person again.
We dug tunnels in the sand until we could reach each other's hands, and then we built the sweetest sand castle in the shape of a steamboat. Then Ike and sprawled out on our towels and Ike said, "You can't do this on MSN." Exactly, Ike.
*dies a little inside at the thought of him leaving LA*
The waves were quite choppy, and I suffered as the shortest person in our group, as everyone urged me out past where I could touch my toes to the bottom. The amount of sea water I swallowed, you don't want to know. I got picked up and ROLLED a number of times, getting scrapped on the sandy bottom. I still have vertigo, so I'd be twirling underwater with no idea which way was up and only the nominal comfort that I was being swept toward shore. At this point I would cling to anything I was swept up against, which in a few cases happened to be Ike, and in one case I came up clutching his shorts in SO the wrong place. Sorry about that, Ikey.

As the sun went down over the water, we packed up and went to Ike's office again, to check movie times and Jer took some pictures.

Then we went to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Ike has a vlog about this, go watch it here.

ZezZee and I packed up my new bird, formerly name VJ and owned by Ike, now named Ike and owned by me, VJ. Confused yet?

Then I had to say goodbye to Ike. That was hard. I wonder when I'll be able to hug him again.

Yes, I am that short, and Ike is that tall.

So ZezZee and I drove home, through the moonlight.

Sunday morning I really tried to get out of bed. I swear. I realized it was time to get up, so I rolled over and promptly fell back asleep. I did manage to make it out of bed in time to eat and run at my company picnic.

Then I picked up two more birds, formerly belonging to a friend of a friend that was moving and didn't think her little finches would survive the trip.

So, yes, if you're counting, that brings me up to three new birds just this weekend, and grand total of 16 pets. Two cats, four hermit crabs, five fish and five birds. I named my sweet little finches Pierce and Willow. I don't have any pictures of them yet, but I can show you a picture of Gilly (yellow-green) and Augie (mostly blue).

Then I went home and did some cleaning (and napping, to be honest).

Fun with Phones!
Ike, ZezZee and I attempted to prank call 'Rezzie and left a message on what we thought was her phone. Turns out, it wasn't. So some random person got the following message on their voicemail. -

ZezZee - *hesitant and halting* "Um, hello. Sorry to bother you, but there are two people in my driveway, passed out and this number was the last call on her redial list. Uh, she's short and wearing a lot of bracelets, and she's clutching the leg of a live chicken, and I don't think the chicken is very happy about it, and he's tall and smells like, well, rubbing alcohol. What should I do with them?"


Some of you were wondering who ZezZee is. She is ..............
  • taller than me.
  • a part time librarian, part time honor student.
  • the older sister to four little brothers, who live in utter awe of her.
  • the sort of delicate beauty that you can picture staring up adoringly into the face of a man and saying things like, "You're my hero." You'd be wrong though.
  • an ardent feminist.
  • the sort of girl who shocks you by having a broken arm and casually says, "Oh, I was walking on a barrel.
  • her own heroine.
  • an aspiring director.
  • wearing a bracelet with bells on it in that picture (not shown) that makes music when she moves.
  • underage, so back off.

So then I said ..............
................... (to myself, quietly in my own head) "By all means, call the receptionist that gets hundreds of calls a day and identify yourself as, 'It's me again', refering to that one time you called last week. I'll TOTALLY know who you are."

Lets talk about Ike.
He's utterly nose-kissable. I should know.
Doesn't this picture look oddly .......... intimate? I was reluctant to post it, for fear of giving the wrong impression, but I swear to you, it was an implusive gesture in a roomful of people, not the tender making out with his upper lip it appears to be.

What really were the odds I've become friends with Ike? That's why I love the internet so much. And we'll have to rely on it more. Ike is leaving me.

And by 'me', I mean 'a reasonable driving distance from me'.

He gave me his little parakeet, which he named VJ after me. I'm changing the birds name to Ike, because it seems odd to own an animal named after myself. So, re-introducing Ike, the bird formerly known as VJ.

Ike is going home to Canada. I should know where in Canada, but frankly, I'm American. Our knowledge of Canada looks something like this. Really. ('Rez is so offended right now, I'm sure.)

Ike is happy, which puts the awful burden on me, of pretending to be happy about this whole terrible move. I'm sad. Gone are the days of jaunting up to LA, kissing his nose and assuring each other we really did exist. Now all I have to nose-kiss in LA is Jer. Which, frankly, I shouldn't complain about, because he's a very pretty man. Ladies, this man is single and can juggle. ('Rez has probably forgotten all about being mad at my map of Canada.) But seriously, Jer, you need to start a blog. (He says he read my blog once, and I'm hoping it'll happen again.) JER! BLOG!

Ike is leaving me. I met him by his blog, and now that is all I have left. *sniffles*

Another Actual Conversation
Ike - "Since I'm moving, I've decided to give my bird VJ to VJ."

VJ - "Good thing you didn't name him LA South County Animal Shelter."

Another Actual Conversation
Two Strange Men - "Hi. We work at the building across the street and our water is out and so is this the building that said we could use their restrooms?"

Receptionist - "Thats the first I heard of it, but I'm not going to turn you guys away, mainly in the interest of protecting our shrubery............"

Saturday, July 23, 2005
Another Actual Conversation
*broadcast live from Ike's work

Valancy Jane - "So Brendan Frasier, he was in George of the Jungle

ZezZee - "Brendan Frasier, isn't he dead?"

Valancy Jane- "No, hun, you're thinking of his career."

Friday, July 22, 2005
A Full Weekend Awaits Me.
Tonight I have a double date with JR and Paul and Lola. First stop, Ciao Bellas. WORLD'S BEST ITALIAN FOOD/PEOPLE. After dinner we're gonna take in a movie, then prank somebody, details to follow on Monday.

Tomorrow I'm going up to visit Ike. Hilarity is sure to follow.

Sunday is church, company beach picnic and picking up my new pet finches, in an order vaguely resembling that list.

Somewhere in that, I have to clean ButterCream, my new chair, and the rest of my apartment.

So then I said........
.......... "This song makes me think of my cat."

What I thought was, "This song makes me think of my cat, stroking his head in the vet hospital and singing this song to him, like I'd done countless times before, begging for it to not be the last."

I've written about my cat Maximus a lot, I know, and put myself at the risk of sounding like a crazy cat lady. I've even written about this before. But there is a lot of pain and power in my memories of days when he was really all I had in this world. I remember days when the ONLY reason I broke out of my depression was to feed him. I remember days when the only reason I got up was him.

Is that sad? Absolutely. So was I, and so was my life for a good long while. He deserved better.

I always think of him as my little trooper. We were protective of each other. We were a couple of throwaways, tossed out into the world, for who ever would have us. There were days I didn't know who I was or where I belonged, other than home was where my cheery little ball of fluff was. He never failed me, and I was determinded never to fail him.

I got help, I got friends, I got myself a beautiful hodgepodge family, I got hope, I got God, I stopped looking for love in a bottle of tequila.

Its amazing what unconditional love can do, even from a cat.

Is this crazy? Absolutely. So was I, for a good long while. He deserved better.

Will I love my cat unabashedly, devotedly? Absolutely. For a good long while. He deserves it.

Oh, and the song?

If you're lost, you can look and you will find me, time after time............

Lou, the Mischievious Whirlwind o' Fun.

Its The New Thing. Everyone is doing it. All the COOL KIDS anyway. Read this.

I Love Stealing From Zoe.
I have no plans to stop, but I give her credit, so hopefully she sees it as the tribute it is.

By the way, have you been reading Zoe lately? She's a gem of the blogging world. And of the world in general, really.

So I stole this poem from her blog.

Things to Think
Think in ways you've never thought before.
If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message
Larger than anything you've ever heard,
Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.

Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,
Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose
Has risen out of the lake, and he's carrying on his antlers
A child of your own whom you've never seen.

When someone knocks on the door, think that he's about
To give you something large: tell you you're forgiven,
Or that it's not necessary to work all the time, or that it's
Been decided that if you lie down no one will die.

Stolen from Natalie
1.When you look at yourself in the mirror, what's the first thing you look at? My hair. Pretty much everything else on my face stays put, so I'm not as concerned.

2.How much cash do you have on you? *checks* $378.20 and one canadian penny.

3.What's a word that rhymes with "TEST"? Rest.

4.Favorite plant? Hmmm, I'm wondering how broadly this should be taken. Cotton, I guess.

5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone? 'Rez, she called this morning while I was in the shower.

6.What is your main ring tone on your phone? Good Vibrations

7.What shirt are you wearing? This one. --->

8.Do you "label" yourself? *giggle* I might if I could find one that applied.

9.Name brand of your shoes currently wearing? I'm not wearing shoes at the moment, I slipped my feet out of them and I'm sitting cross-legged with just christmas socks on my feet.

10.Bright or Dark Room? Well, a dark room sounds more alluring and peaceful, but when JR and I are in the same room, I'm always turning the dimmer switch up and he's always turning it down.

11.What do you think about the person who took this survey before you? Nat? She's a million kinds of beautiful.

12.Ever "spilled the beans"? I'm pretty good with secrets.

13.What were you doing at midnight last night? Flopping around my bed, naked. No, not like that. It was just about a million degrees in my apartment last night.

14.What did your last text message you recieved on your cell phone say? "I don't know who we should prank though, any ideas?", from Lola about our plans tonight. *replies "Anyone that reads my blog is out."*

15.Do you ever click on "Pop Ups" or Banners? No, I have this morbid fear that if I even LOOK at those banners or pop ups like I'm interested, they'll give my computer the technical equivalent of herpes, or make it suddenly melt into a pile of plastic goo.

16.What's a saying that you say a lot? "I just work here."

17.Who told you they loved you last? JR. *smiles* I love him.

18.Last furry thing you touched? Again, I'm not sure how broadly I can construe this. My own head? My own leg? (Shut up, I was to busy to shave this morning.) JR? The furry mustache on my rear-view mirror? My cat?

19.How many hours a week do you work? Roughly 45.

20.How many rolls of film do you need to get developed? Dude, I was sorta notorious for never developing my film. Once my ex, Paul, found a roll of film in my stuff and had it developed and it was pictures of Bug and I when I was like 11.

21.Favorite age you have been so far? Today, always today. Time is good to me, and just about every day is better than the last.

22.Your worst enemy? Static Cling.

23.what is your current desk top picture? A cute picture of Lou and Coco.

24.what was the last thing you said to someone? "Yes, absolutely!"

25.If you had to choose between a milion bucks or to be able to go back in time to fix all your mistakes...what would you pick? Neither appeals much, actually. I guess I'd go with the money. Money is a mixed blessing, but it can have some use, and looking back and regret has NO USE at all.

Another Actual Conversation
*VJ and Super Kawii hum along to 'Gasolina' as it plays in the background at the Mexican food shop*

ZezZee - "I don't know this song."

VJ - "Its *heavy spanish accent* reggetone. To most it sounds like a blend of hip hop and latin pop, but reggetone artists claim that rap actually originated in South America, and the African slave population picked it up in Cuba and then brought it to the Sta- *realizes Super Kawii and ZezZee are staring at her with amusement* What? I gots flava'."

Super Kawii - *shakes head*

ZezZee - "Toppings, maybe. Flavor? Naw. Toppings."

So then I said........
............. as ZezZee had what appeared to be yards of her GORGEOUS red-gold hair cut off to be donated to Locks of Love (they make wigs for children who are going through chemo) - "Lucky little kid with cancer. Er, I mean, that's not what I meant."

Cheers to .........
........... Courtney Cox. For throwing her hat in the Tom "Runs His Mouth Too Much" Cruise / Brooke "Strong, Beautiful, Soul-Baring Mother" Shields ring, with her own tale of post-partum depression.
Anti-depressants are a deeply personal decesion, and everyone's body reacts to them in a different way. For some, it's not for them. For many, it's the only reason their baby still has a living mother, or that a husband stays with a wife rather than becoming a ward of the state. And I think to critique a woman for doing what she feels is best for herself and her family, for seeking help to be a better and more whole person/mother, that's unexcuseable.
And were exactly does Tom get all this experience with post-partum anyway, he's a man, and he doesn't even have the second-hand experience, as his children are adopted. (Which is lovely, I'm just saying, Tom hasn't even had to help a wife through post-partum.)

Think of it this way, who's kid would you rather be right now? Brooks (or Courtney's) or Toms? I'm just saying.

Dooce (who has an amazing story of her own battle with post-partum depression) once quoted a friend as saying, "Beware of those who claim to love motherhood, but have hate toward mothers themselves."

So Courtney, you do what you feel makes you a better mother, and I'll be here throwing all my support and prayers your way.

............ Dove. For using utterly beautiful women in their ads.

Believe me, there is nothing like working with Jr. High age girls to make you realize the true damage of the unreal beauty standard put out by the media. I think our idea of beauty needs to expand, not narrow. (pun o' meter score?)

............ this. Just 'cause.

Happiness is ....................
............. the little furry black mustache I put on my review mirror, so that everytime I check my reflection, I have a lovely 'stache. It makes me giggle furiously.

Another Actual Conversation
*ZezZee and VJ jaywalk across the street*

VJ - "I read somewhere that people that disregard simple laws like traffic regulations have an immature narsisstic(sp?) complex."

*ZezZee and VJ both shrug*

VJ - "I'm not saying I'm worried about it, I just thought it was an interesting fact."

So then I said............
............... to the postman, "I've decided to just initial things instead of signing, and I'm going to use the time I save to brush my hair more often."

Thursday, July 21, 2005
Random Images That Make Me Happy.

The dashboard of my car, as taken by Lou, who gave me the lobster keychain as well.

Crytic message Coco, Lou and I left for the busboy or waitress.

This was my horse when I was a teenager, Snicker. Yes, the one I rode through the house.

And this is my step-gramps, Grandpa Patrick.

Root for Dulce!

She's duking it out on here.

If you come across her in a kitten war, and don't vote for her, I'll .................... I'll tell Maximus on you.

Knowing My Key Demographic
I'm third on the search list for "leather horse tug extentions".

And it appears that to achieve this distinction, it's not even necessary to know what the heck a 'leather horse tug extention' is.

Before I had the Worlds Greatest Boss..........
............. I had plenty of other types. And as everyone knows, you gotta learn coping strategies for each type. Here's one helpful tip, for dealing with the Mr. Intimidating 'Cause I'm Bigger and Meaner Boss.

I had Mr. ICBMB at a telemarketing firm. Actually I had three supervisors at that job. Jadon, who I dated, so he was easy to deal with. "Sorry I'm late, here's your shirt, dear." Also Devery, who was, well, flirty, but not annoyingly so. If you sorta flirted a bit, he'd let you get away with murder, but he never took you seriously. "Say, Dev, can I leave early? The men installing the mirror over my bed are coming this afternoon." That sort of thing. He was easy going and funny anyway.
Then there was Mr. ICBMB. His previous job had been as a drill instructor for the marines. He wanted, no, NEEDED you to be afraid of him. I don't respond well to people like that. To me, they're just bullies. Once he yelled at me for having a deck of playing cards on my desk. I figured, this is ridiculous.
I wasn't bigger, I wasn't meaner, and he clearly outranked me at work. I needed something.

So I pretended to be demon-possessed. Only around him. He was so thrown, it honestly scared the crap out of him.

I know what you're thinking.
You're thinking, "No one could actually be that shameless."

But yes, I really could.

You're thinking, "He wouldn't buy it. He'd laugh it off."

He really had no sense of humor and couldn't comprehend anyone being so creative as to use this as a tactic. He took me as seriously as he took himself.


Well, I would start a sentence normally, and progress through the following steps very quickly before he could respond.

"So, I have a question about the new order verification forms, do I have you sign them and THEN pass it to -"
*sudden switch to gravelly deep throated voice, like a barely controlled roar*
"BACK OFF!!!!!!!!!!"
*bewildered look, stagger, take a step back, blink, look around, look back, rub temples, blink*
"I'm sorry. Were you saying something? My head really hurts. What were you saying?"

And I'd just sit there blinking and rubbing the side of my temples, and waiting for him to 'finish what he was talking about.'

He'd stand there, silent. Once I saw a coherent sentence making it's way to his lips, so I added, "Do you have an aspirin? I've been getting these weird like blackout migraine things lately."

It only took three times before he'd immediatly turn and walk away when he saw me coming. And who could he complain too? All my other supervisors thought I was sweet. He was really unnerved.

Moral of the Story -
Power belongs to the shameless.
People will respond to anger or agressiveness in kind. Craziness, they will just back away.

Oh, and just to show how far I pushed it? The company made a big stink about us telemarketers having open containers of liquids at our desk, because they were losing to much equipment to spillage. So they made a new rule that you could only have 'spill-proof' containers on your desk. So I took an empty vodka bottle, filled it with water, put one of those special pouring lids on it, and openly chugged water from it whenever he passed. He NEVER said a word.

Vintage Actual Conversation
VJ - "When I first met you, I thought you were an arrogant bitch."

Old Roomie - "When I first met you, I thought you were batshit crazy."

VJ - "Then we got to know and love each other, and realized ...............................

................we were totally right."

My "Pet Cause".

Look, go wook at dat poor scared widdle face.

He doesn't even have a name.

Another Actual IM Conversation
Valancy Jane says:
JR thinks I'm nuts but he indulges me most of the time.

Ike says:

Thérèse says:
mm... nuts...

Valancy Jane says:
I love you two.

Ok, since I'm all about being honest and all, I'm going to tell y'all something, but since it is the single most effective way to manipulate me, I beg that y'all to use your power for good and not for evil. No, really, even when I know you're just jerking my chain, I can't resist.

Ok, so it started when I was a kid. My parents would act as the voice of say, the peas on my plate and say things like, "Don't you love us? Why won't you eat us? We're sad and lonely now." And I don't know if it's my overactive imagination or my overactive empathy, but suddenly I am utterly compelled to eat every pea on my plate. I can't help it. They could get me to do anything by giving it a name or a sob story. ANYTHING.

Of course it backfired. I went nuts everytime I outgrew a sweater or shoes, and would cry hysterically until they agreed to let me keep them in the attic and visit them. To this day, I will donate clothes rather then throw them away, but my motivation is to give the clothes a new home, not to clothe needy people.

I have every stuffed animal ever given to me. I can't, CAN'T get rid of them. They're beedy little eyes bore into my soul and I hear "VJ, we're your widdle friends, don't you love us anymore?" and I picture them crying and feeling discarded.

And as a kid, I couldn't sleep until I'd tucked in each one, so they wouldn't be cold at night.

My mother gave me the book, The Velveteen Rabbit, on Easter, and it just about sent me over the edge. I remember sobbing to the dog, "They threw his bunny, his loyal little FRIEND away!!!!"

Oh, yes, I do KNOW I'm crazy. I just can't seem to overcome it.

I cringe at garage sales or thift shops when I see the used stuffed animals. I veer wildly between running away and buying them all. I have only a very loose grip on my own sanity in that moment.

I know this comes from relating to inanimate objects, of growing up feeling that no one heard me, or saw my distress.

The rational side of my brain makes small victories. "Maybe it will enjoy the dump, losts of socializing with new friends." "Someone else will rescue them." "Dude, get a grip, do you see where this will LEAD?"

But I'm at the mercy of anyone that can tell a sob story for an inanimate object. Case in point, yesterday, I spent a hour hauling this dirty chair home. I knew when I saw the ad that I would take her, even if she was the ugliest, dirtiest chair ever. She wa UNLOVED. She's filthy and was covered in spiders and ants and is in desparete need of vaccuming, leather soap and some Fabreeze. But I will love her. And y'all can come and sit in her anytime you want.

Doesn't this just make you feel more secure?
This is Chloe. She is four. She is the little sister of Evan. Her red-white&blue teddy bear and widdle pink shoes were scanned as well, for the safety of the plane. Read about it here.

Your Hidden Talent
Your natural talent is interpersonal relations and dealing with people.
You communicate well and are able to bring disparate groups together.
Your calming presence helps everything go more smoothly.
People crave your praise and complements.

Another Actual Conversation
Ma Homie in Marketing - "Well, I'm off for the day, to that program management seminar. If anyone calls, tell them -"

Receptionist - "Tell them you're in rehab?"

Ma Homie in Marketing - "Yes."

Receptionist - "Shall I specify if its for alcohol or drugs or sniffing glue?"

Ma Homie in Marketing - "Just say it's for 'personal reasons, a breakdown'. Everyone knows that means crack."

Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Would it be tasteful to wear this........

  • When I'm getting married?
  • When I'm at my doctor's office?
  • When my mother calls?
  • When I stare at people at my favorite coffee shop?
  • All weekend?

'Cause it would just be honest, really. Too honest?

Selected quotes from an article on ComicCon.
Worst Trend: Lack of teenagers. According to the San Diego Tribune, the average comic book fan is in their 30s or 40s. That is not a healthy trend for the industry and the teens seemed overshadowed by an older generation.

I almost had a t-shirt made that said, "I'm here with a kid, what's your excuse?"

Only At Comic-Con: From the public address announcer: "We ask that in respect to your neighbors, please refrain from using your lightsabers during all panel presentations."

So not kidding.

Best Costume: General Grievous from "Star Wars: Episode III - The Revenge of the Sith." Incredibly detailed and moved just like the CGI character from the movie.

He walked right past me, and I wanted SO BAD to trip him. He would have GONE DOWN, in a crash of plastic and cape.

If loving my boss is wrong, I don't want to be right.
My boss is quite possibly one of the loveliest human beings to ever walk the planet. Really.

So the story starts back about a month ago, when he pointed out that we were about a month behind for my yearly review. He sent me the self-evaluation form and asked me to fill it out and send it back, and we'd squeeze my review in when he got a chance. (He's VERY busy.)

Now, about me and reviews. They are like cryptenite (sp?) to my self confidence and sent me into an irrational spiral of "I'm going to get fired and they're going to want all the money they ever paid me back!". See, the rational side of me says that I've never gotten anything but good feedback from him and everyone else and I know I've done a good job. But that gets drowned out by my own rabidly morbid self-image. I mean, normally, I'm have a really healthy ego, but when it comes to my work, I have this odd little perfectionist streak and think I'll never be good enough at my job.
Its this same issue that I have to thank for all my school honors. My English teacher used to laugh at me, because I'd be standing there begging for more time on my paper, and he'd ask, "Whats that in your hands?"
"My paper, but it sucks, can't just re-write once more?"
"How many times have you already?"
"Uhm, like, 8."
"You know, it's not hard to get you to DO your work, it's hard to pry it out of your fingers once its done. Let it go."
And then he'd give me an A+ and even though I knew I deserved it, I never expected it. Finally my English teacher hung a sign right over my desk, a quote by someone who's name I don't remember, "Give what you have, to some it might seem better than you think." I think that quote was in the back of my mind when I began blogging.

Anyhoooooooooo, so I filled out my review quickly and sent it back before I could second-guess myself. And by 'quickly', I mean I only spent a day, and had only two of my friends look it over. (Thanks guys, by the way.) If I hadn't sent it in right away, I would have re-written it over and over until I'd edited down to just the following sentence. "I suck, please don't fire me, I'll come in early and do more, I swear, although I'm not sure what, since I already do everything I can think to do......."
He mentioned it and I told him that I'd agonized over it after sending it in, he asked if I wanted him to send it back to me so I could re-do it. I gasped, "Heck no, that would KILL me. My agonizing, it's a permanant condition."

So he's a very busy guy and we had to reschedule a couple times over about a month. A month of quiet stomach ulcers and quiet self-pep-talks, "He's not going to fire you. You do a good job." and emotional eating.

Yes, I'm silly, I know.

When he finally put me into his schedule for today, and put it down for an hour long meeting, I almost passed out. "An hour!?!?" I thought to myself, "How long does it take to say, 'Good job'? He's SO going to fire me for ............. something."

So today was supposed to be my review. But he called me and

1.) Postponed my review until Sept. (New review procedures)

2.) Agreed to schedule the review on his own calender, but not to warn me about it until about an hour before hand, so I don't freak out for weeks beforehand.

3.) He gave me a raise. Not sure how much of a raise, I was too floored to ask.

4.) He made the raise retroactive for two months (back to my 1-year anniversary with the company), so that in my next check, I get a lump sum of back raise.

I love him so.

Mystery Man
So there is this man that comes and sits in front of the lobby everyday. He leisurely smokes a cigarette, takes his shoes off, oddly enough, and sometimes reads the paper, sometimes works on a laptop. He's always very nicely dressed and looks harmless, but he doesn't work here, and he never comes inside. I have no idea why he comes here, but he looks rather happy and peaceful, and its not like he's hurting anyone.

But why does he come here? It's not like we have a view, and there are plenty of other nice benches and stuff around all the buildings around us.

Happiness ISN'T........
.......... the fact that I STILL have no shower. I was told this was a 2-3 day project. It's been over a week. And every night I've been promised that it would be finished tomorrow and every night I come home and it isn't. Frankly, I'm pissed.

And here's the kicker. He went through my diary.

I'm not kidding. He left me a note on the page right next to what I'd just written, telling me it would take EVEN FUCKING LONGER to finish my shower. IN MY DIARY!!!!!!!!!!!!
And yes, it's obviously a diary and yes, there is plenty of other paper around.

I'm filing a complaint.

Happiness is...........
................ eating a huge bowl of blueberries, some cheese and drinking a glass of sangria for dinner on a hot night.

............... buying tampons with cutesy little feminist empowering statements on them. 'If this isn't bleeding for a good cause, what is?' gave me a good laugh, but 'Don't just change your tampon, change the world' made me think about channeling my PMS-induced rage into something more productive, "So help me, bitch, if you don't donate to my food drive......" It's a thought.

............... eating the rest of the blueberries for breakfast, with a cup of blueberry tea.

Another Actual Conversation
VJ - "Your act made the price of admission today totally worth it."

Wanna-be Knight - "Er, thank you." *wanders off*

DK - "Good thing he doesn't know you got in for free."

Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Request from the pretty girl with the most heart-meltingest smile ever.
  1. JR
  2. Coco Bean
  3. Lou
  4. Bunny
  5. 'Rezzie
  6. Jonny
  7. Sven
  8. Pete
  9. Ike
  10. Col
  11. 'Shaw
  12. JMsy
  13. 'Mookie
  14. Eric
  15. Christy
  16. Lola
  17. Paul
  18. Stretch
  19. Devin
  20. David

Ok that was off the top of my head, now on with the questions.

Who is #8 going out with?: Well, 'Rezzie proposed to him a few times, but I don't think Pete has answered her yet. He claims to have a wife chained up in his basement and 46 kids. I would be outraged, but he said I could name all 46 of his kids.

Is #9 a boy or a girl?: Ike is a pretty, pretty boy. But he does sit with his legs crossed a lot.

Would #11 and #12 date?: 'Shaw and JMsy? Doubtful, unless JMsy converted to be a Jewish woman. I don't see that happening.

How about #18 and #4?: If Bunny dated Stretch *giggle*, he'd look like the oldest of her sons.

What grade is #17 in?: Paul is a lifeguard at SeaWorld.

When was the last time you talked to #12?: I talked to JMsy today, on MSN.

What is #6's favorite band?: I think Jonny has about 185,337 favorite bands. Go see his compulsory downloads, they're 'ace' as he would say.

Does #1 have any siblings?: Yes, JR has Billy, who is DARLING.

Would you ever date #3?: Well, Lou is lovely, but about the farthest away from my type as you can get, being a 15 year old girl and all. But if we were both kids and she had a brother, I'd totally like her brother and we'd daydream about being 'sisters-in-law' when we grew up.

Would you ever date #7?: Svenny? I'd be hard pressed to do better, but I don't see it.

Is #16 single?: Nope, Lola's dating Paul.

What's #15's last name?: Christy's is the same as Eric's.

What's #10's middle name?: I don't know, Col, sorry. Manticore? Adorable?

What's #5's favorite thing to do?: 'Rez? Shop for shoes, propose to people, run the world, play tennis.

Would #14 and #19 make a good couple?: Devin and Eric? I don't see it. And I can't imagine Christy (his lovely wife) would appreciate it. However, Devin and JMsy totally would.

What school does #20 go to?: Not a clue. And frankly, David looks too cool for school.

Tell me a random fact about #11: 'Shaw has a lovely deep voice and accent, that listening to makes me feel like I've just wrapped a towel thats been sitting in the sun around my body after getting out of a chilly pool

And #1: JR scrunches up his face when he sleeps and looks too adorable for words. And sometimes when I hold him tight, the world just beyond us seems to twirl dizzy and I hold on tighter.

And #3: I personally suspect Lou's a genius of some sort. Or of many sorts.

Have you ever had a crush on #15?: Of course, Christy's beautiful. I defy you to find one single solitary person who doesn't or didn't at one time, have a crush on her.

What's #4's favorite color?: Bunny likes cornflower blue, I think.

Would you makeout with #14?: I'll pass, as much as I like bearded men, I don't care for married bearded men, and Eric would manage to hurt me somehow. Literally. Once, in one day, he managed to split my lip open with one of those free AOL cds and bite a hole in my foot. I'm not kidding.

Are #5 & #6 best friends?: I don't know that either 'Rez or Jonny are the type to distinguish between 'best' and other types of friends, but we all love each other madly.

Does #8 like #19?: No, Pete and Devin have never met, but they would like each other, I'm sure.

How did you meet #2?: I had myself cloned. Coco's it. She's my Mini-Me. Only prettier and quite often, funnier.

How did you meet #18?: Stretch and I met at summer camp, when we were kids.

Does #10 have any pets?: Other than Manticores? Not sure if Col does.

Is #12 older than you?: Yes, JMsy is. And better looking. And sweeter.

Request from the pretty lady with the Manticore.
The Pronunciation of Towns.

El Cajon - Spanish origin, meaning 'the box' or more literally, 'the drawer'. It refers to the fact that El Cajon is a valley, very square shaped and flat on the bottom. It really does resemble a shallow box. Pronounced "El - Caw-hone"
It is located in what is known as East County, in San Diego County. I live here.

San Diego - Spanish origin, named for a Saint who started a mission here. Pronounced "san-dee-egg-o" In a broader sense, I live here too.

Mira Mesa - Spanish origin - Mira mean 'look' and Mesa literally means table, but it is often used to refer to mountains. So loosely translated it means Mountain View. I'm not certain if the name refers to a view OF or FROM a mountain, but Mira Mesa does in fact offer a little of both. Rather easily pronounced "mir-rah may-sah" Feel free to roll your 'R's as much as you please.
I work here.

Del Mar - Spanish origin - Del is a contraction of De el, meaning 'of the' and Mar is 'Ocean'. It is right on the coast and has some of the most expensive houses in San Diego. Barbara Streisand, Brad Pitt and my brother live there. Pronounced easily "dell - marr"
I think it's a beautiful name.

Viejas Native American Indian Reservation - Actually a spanish name, as the Native Americans did not choose this particular tract of land, much less the name. The name comes simply from a pair of mountains that do in fact resemble 'old ladies' which is what viejas means. When I was a child, it was the saddest, poorest place you can imagine. Now it boasts one of the best casinos in the state and world class shopping. Any native, man, woman or child, who's ancestry has 45% blood from that tribe makes triple my salary, every month, by a simple check in the mail. More if they actually work at the casino. Suffice it to say, the american population is repaying the Native Americans, on quarter slot at a time. That makes me happy. Pronounced "vee-ay-has"
This is where I like to shop.

And just for fun, I'll throw in Jamacha Road, the most mispronounced my non locals street name ever in history. Pronounced "ham-ma-shaw"

So then I said........
.............. "I love google maps with the satellite images and stuff. I feel like I've been flying for the last hour, and I'm SURE it's not just the crystal meth I had for lunch."

So then I said.......
.......... "I've had this tin of mints in my purse for a week and I still can't get it open. It just sits there with my lipstick, and taunts me."

Inspire me, please.

I'm taking requests today.

I'm just so distracted and spacey today. I can think of ideas, I just can't remember them for the 2-8 seconds it takes to open a new post, or even find a pen.

So, please, lend me your inspiration. Remind me of anything I promised you I would write about. Ask me anything. Tell me I suck and should give up trying to write, because that will whip me up and give me something to rant about. Tell me you love me, because well, frankly, that's just nice.

I love y'all.
Oh, and the photo's by the lovely and luscious Lou.

Happiness is..........
........... having a boyfriend that buys you a sticker reading, "Short People Rock" while he's in Vegas for the weekend.

*giggle* "Pet Causes" *giggle*
Your Blogging Type is Artistic and Passionate
You see your blog as the ultimate personal expression - and work hard to make it great.
One moment you may be working on a new dramatic design for your blog...
And the next, you're passionately writing about your pet causes.
Your blog is very important - and you're careful about who you share it with.
Your Power Color Is Gold

At Your Highest:

You are engrossed in passions that mentally stimulate you.

At Your Lowest:

You seek thrills and neglect what's important in your life.

In Love:

You see dating as adventure and approach it with an open attitude.

How You're Attractive:

You passion for life makes others passionate about you.

Your Eternal Question:

"Am I Having Fun?"

Another Actual IM Conversation
Thérèse says:
i have somethign to ask you.

Valancy Jane says:
I didn't do it.

Thérèse says:
*skeptical look*

Valancy Jane says:
Ok, whatever it was, I probably did it.

Thérèse says:

Monday, July 18, 2005
A tribute to 'Nice Guys'
This was forwarded to me, and I just had to share it. I date a 'nice guy' and believe me, I KNOW what I've got. And I have appreciated each and every one of the nice guys that have been there for me over the years. Karma will be kind to you.

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl's every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they're at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don't end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn't worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you'd ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn't have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing 'serious' between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: "oh, but we're just friends!" And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you're nice like that.
But one thing I do know, is that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn't last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.
So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you're sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

Secret Spots, the places I would run away to.
'Rez made mention of having secret spots, and I decided to share some of mine with y'all.

Cedar Knolls Park, Apple Valley, Minnesota
It wasn't a park in the sense that I thought of a park, instead of manicured lawns and playground equipment, it was just a plot of trees. The friendliest trees you can imagine.

(Also the friendliest mosquitos, when you're a stupid Californian girl that wears bright colored tank tops and perfume and says things like, "What's mosquito replellant?")

I used to take a snack and a book and go there to read. I lived about a block away (on Germane Trail). Someone cut down a tree, then cut the trunk into 1-3 foot sections and just left them there, so I rolled a few under my favorite tree as a table and chair I used to sit and read for hours.

The library in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
This was my favorite place in Albuquerque, I used to shuffle through the snow and spend hours there. Of all the libraries I've been in, I got best aquainted with that one. I still have my library card from it.

La Bufadora, Mexico.
I could live there, very simply and happily. I may, someday.

Damon Lane County Park, El Cajon, CA.
I used to ride my horse here as a kid, and I go walking there sometimes when I wanna think. I love the eculyptus grove by the creek bed.

Fun Way to Scare Your Neighbors.
1. Approach your apartment by passing a Nice Neighbor who is sitting outside with her Cat.

2. Cheerily greet your Nice Neighbor. "Hello!"

3. As you pass the Cat, lean over and loudly hiss, "Stop looking at me as if I hated my mother!"

4. Keep walking away before Nice Neighbor knows what to think.

JR would be so proud.
Which Fantasy/SciFi Character Are You?

Which Fantasy/SciFi Character Are You?

A strong-willed herald of causes against injustice, you passionately strive to right the wrongs around you.
Somebody has to save our skins!

Weekend Update with Jimmy Fallon and Tina Fey

Friday night was a wild and crazy night of ............... shopping for a new shower curtain. (A new shower curtain for the shower that was supposed to be finished on Thursday, yeah, that one, the one that STILL isn't done and the repair man hasn't even bothered to show up for the last two days and I'm still washing my hair in the sink, and I'm starting to feel/smell bitter.) But the shopping with JR was fun, and we got mexican food and hung out until he had to go home and go to bed early because he was getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to drive to Vegas for the weekend for his friend's birthday party.
After that, I met up with Dufel for coffee at my favorite coffee shop. There is a usual bass player there, who looks eerily like a young Russell Crowe, minus the attitude. I love to watch his hands as he plays. His hands just look so ............ happy. Time flies when I'm watching him play. From time to time, I'll catch him staring at me, and he quickly looks away. I think the sweet lady behind the counter, Anne, was trying to find out my name for him, so when I ordered and she asked my name, I asked her what name I should use today. She said I looked like a Danielle, and I've used that name there ever since.
Anyway, Dufel is a absolute joy to hang out with, I wish he wasn't so determined to move to Denver, I'll miss him so. After a long chat, I went home and tucked myself into bed.

I got up early on Sat. morning to take Daniel to ComicCon. We almost got thrown out for hassling the medival re-enactment players. My favorite part was when the one guy went on and on about how many safety precautions they have to learn, then one 'knight' lost a hold of his sword and it when flying out of the ring into the crowd. We especially routed for one guy that wore cowprint material on his head. We called him CowMan. And when anyone else 'fought' we'd yell, "Bring back CowMan!" You could tell that CowMan was wavering between appreciation of our support and annoyance at being called CowMan and not Sir Malcom something or other.
One potenially awkward moment, when they brought out belly dancers. What belly dancers had to do with 'live action metal combat' is beyond me, but these are horny men, so I guess it didn't have to make sense. This really wasn't belly dancing, which is a lovely and feminine dance form, this was basically stripper dancing in sheer clothes. I was turning to Daniel, hoping it wouldn't be hard to divert his attention, thinking "What can I suggest we do so that he's distracted from this?" when Daniel yells at the scantily clad women, "BRING BACK COWMAN!"
God bless your pure little heart, Daniel.
We ran around the very, VERY crowded booth floor and tagged people yelling "TAG! You're it!" and running away. Not one person followed us or joined in, it was rather disappointing. All through the booths, I heard people saying there was a massage booth. And from walking around all day, I was really looking forward to it. When we finally found it, I noticed that the three girls running it were all a little scantily clad but I thought, what the heck, I'm secure in my sexuality, I can get a massage from a girl in a tiny skirt, right?
Yeah. It got weird. That's all I'm going to say.
Other than that, we did some shopping at the booths and I bought JR a present and bought myself some stuffed animals that were all weird and funny looking, like with three eyes and stuff. They were cute. I had a lot of fun and got to meet Daniel's friend Renee, who was great fun. We went to Party City and bought stick on mustaches and eyepatches and funny hats and went to see a movie dressed up in them.

Sunday after church there was a meeting for the leaders of the Jr High group. I'm really happy with all the new volunteers we've got, they're fun and caring and good to our kidlets.
After that, Bunny brought over three of her boys, Philip, Peter and Joel, to swim in my pool. They kept devising new ways to dive into the pool / give me a heart attack. Jessica, Bunny's oldest, came over just about the time the boys left and we went swimming for a while and then went to get coffee. She left to go to youth group at her church and I stayed to write for a while. I actually got a chance to talk to my bass player friend that night. I think he had the vague idea of hitting on me, until I mentioned I had a lovely and perfect boyfriend (I worked it into the conversation as soon as possible, because I'm sorta obsessed with watching him play, and didn't want to give the wrong impression) and I thought he'd leave and not bother talking to me anymore, but he stayed to chat and he's really very funny and witty, in a friendly way. He even played Angel from Montgomery for me.

Another Actual Conversation
*at ComicCon, a woman in a very odd anime costume and orange wig walks by*

VJ - *sarcastically* "I almost wore that same outfit today. THAT would have been embarrassing."

DK - "'Cause you two would have matched?"

VJ - "No."

Another Actual Conversation
WEIRD Man in Coffee Shop - "So, you MUST be a blues fan."

Woman Writing in Coffee Shop - "No, but my cat is."

*long pause as WEIRD Man seems thrown and wonders how to proceed, and Woman scribbles away in her notebook*

WEIRD Man - "You doing homework?"

Woman Writing - "Er, yes." *nudges copy of InStyle Magazine with Courtney Cox on the cover, toward the WEIRD Man* "I'm writing my thesis on this."

*another long pause*

WEIRD Man - "You writing about me in that notebook?"

Woman Writing - "Yes."

WEIRD Man - *hopefully* "My name is Jeff."

Woman Writing - *doesn't look up* "I'll be sure to spell it right."

*another long pause*

WEIRD Man - "You from around here?"

Woman Writing - "No, St. Louis, but I fly in for the coffee here."

WEIRD Man - "Really?"

Woman Writing - *doesn't look up* "No."

WEIRD Man - *leans in with a leering and suggestive wink* "'Cause you look like you're from San Diego."

Woman Writing - *pauses for a minute, looks the WEIRD Man in the eye for the first time, wonders if he is drunk, wonders what the heck he means by the last comment, shrugs and returns to writing without responding*

WEIRD Man - *wanders off*

So then I said...........
............ "Ew, I'm getting nacho cheese in my mustache."

Friday, July 15, 2005
People think I make stuff up about Jefe.

I swear, he's real.

I just got this email from him.

"Tomorrow night I'm havin a bonfire at south ocean beach by the pier. I'll have an ez-up a table, an icechest, and I'll be breathing fire! show up around 7:00 PM."

Happiness is ..............
................ Hearing Bunny say 'rock on' last night, and realizing that with all that she's guided and influenced me, I've rubbed off on her just a smidge too.

Here's one for the Pun-O-Meter.
Last night I saw a cloud shaped like the symbol for pi.

Get it?
Pi in the sky.

*slaps own thigh, guffaws*

Ok, I'm done now.

Knowing My Key Demographic
drastic-haircut blog 2005 - And by 'drastic' do you mean 'done by a 13 year old'?

how to hold a cigarette - Ironically, this person who is now searching google for instructions on how to hold a cigarette, they probably started smoking to appear cool. *snickers*

"i kissed a mexican" - Well, you aren't alone.

a tow truck drivers poem - Try searching under 'William Wadsworth'. I think he did something on the subject.

pictures of kevin federline and bow wow shopping together - Bow Wow, whatever Kevin says, DON'T let him talk you into manpris or trucker hats with obscenities on them. Trust me, Britney is the ONLY ONE that finds that look hot.

free galleries flirt "couples dance" - I suspect Lenny is doing things in the Lobby when I'm gone.

scary noise - *giggle* I have this mental image of a wife waking up her husband and saying, "Honey, I heard a scary noise, could you go investigate?" and the husband getting up and tiptoeing the computer.

Another Actual Conversation
Boyfriend - *looks over at Girlfriend who has been playing with the new round Sour Tangerine Altoids tin for the past ten minutes* "Having fun?"

Girlfriend - *pops open tin for the 1,800th time and a satisfied smile spreads across her face* "Darling, its SMALL and SHINY and it makes a POP noise when you open it. OF COURSE I'm having fun."