*Not a euphamism.**
Would you believe me if I told you I was in a Pantomine when I was about 9 or ten when I dressed up like a ballet dancer?
Valancy Jane says:
I believe everything you say.
Well, that really is true. In a white skirt, blond wig and tinsel.
Valancy Jane says:
Not necessarily because I think it's true, but because I want it to be true. It should be true.
Therefore, I believe, as the first step toward a better future.
It is. Somewhere, somewhere, there may well be video evidence.
Though it'd be hard to track down.
Valancy Jane says:
I require this evidence. Not out of doubt, but of RAPID CURIOUSITY.
Because she's ............. well ............. what is she exactly?
*looks out the window*
Lauren Bacall wouldn't have to drive home in the rain with all the idiots who don't know how to drive on a wet road.
Lauren Bacall would either have a driver, who got out in the rain to open her door, and her dress wouldn't have any wrinkles across it from sitting in the cab, oh no she'd step out perfectly pressed, or Humphrey Bogart would be driving her across town in the middle of the night to her apartment where they'd have to stay all night and all the characters would discover who all the other characters REALLY were, and at some point Humphrey would grab her shoulders and shake her and Lauren would tell Humphrey "No, really, I - love you/didn't kill him/don't know where the money is" and still look perfectly pressed and it's ok to be shaken by Humphrey Bogart because he never shakes a dame unless he's about to kiss her, and if Humphrey Bogart kissed me, maybe my clothes would stay perfectly pressed at 3AM too, because, HELLO, Humphrey Bogart is, well, you know.
And maybe that's the real reason I want to be Lauren Bacall.
Neighbor - *looks up from watering her plants* "Hi!"
Valancy Jane - "Could you do me a favor? If you see a guy named Fred wandering around down there, could you send him up here?"
Neighbor - "Oh, got a date do we?"
Valancy Jane - "No, I just really like the name Fred and thought I'd ask you to keep an eye out, just in case."
Everytime I turn it on, it goes to a different station.
It's widening my musical education.
Last night I hit power, and on came an old country/bluegrass station I'd never heard of.
I listened for hours.
It's like a musical lottery everytime I turn it on and I love it.
But after doing a serious cleaning of all the nooks and crannies of my apartment, I can tell you that cobwebs and cat hair give it a real run for the money.
I'm very proud of myself. I managed to take apart my vaccum cleaner, clean it all and put it all back together with no parts left over.
I know. I'm amazing.
Receptionist - *looks puzzled*
*pulls a strand of her hair in front of her face*
*instantly returns to deadpan*
Tech Supervisor - "You're nuts."
She's since taken down my words, and replaced it with a rant about how she's justified in what she did because, and I quote, "sex sells."
I know. Huh?
I can only attribute her nonsensical response to the fact that this must not have given her anything to work with. Where as this must have given her a wealth of words to copy.
And frankly, I think it's sad.
Those of us who love and adore our blogs, those of us who have found a voice, found friends here, we know what a chance she's squandered.
But when it came down to it, she must not have had anything of her own to say.
Yes, sex sells. And so does her integrity, her voice, and her sense of self it would appear. It's not wonder she's got nothing of her own to say. She sold herself as sex and other people's words, and now she's empty.
And that's just sad.
If you've got a comment for her, leave it below. I'll email them to her later.
And if you don't have anything to say, I understand that too. She's just sad, and this is the last bit of my time she's gonna get.
2. Who was your first prom date? Josh. Yes, the one who sent the dumb emails recently. Some Junior Prom thing, in our blink or you'll miss it relationship. I risked a suspension for my 'daring' red dress, which showed *gasp* my back.
3. Who was your first roommate? My best friend Lissy. This is her on the left. Yes that's me on the right, do not ask me what was on my face, I was probably quite drunk at the time.
4. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk the first time? Cheap mexican beer and tequila. My brother Jesse took me to Ensenada, to teach me how not to be an annoying drunk high school girl. I guess he figured that if I could handle cheap beer and tequila, I could handle anything. Here is a picture of us (Jesse, left, his best friend Danny, right, me middle) as we started out the evening. Jesse has pictures of the whole evening, including the one he kept on his fridge, of me puking into the sink at our hotel. I wish I had it, I'd totally post it.
5. Where was your "first time"? Hmmm. I don't have nice stories about this, so I'll take a pass.
6. What was your first job? Calling registered republican voters and encouraging them to get out to vote for our candidates. I was 11 years old. I loved it, and no one guessed how young I was.
7. What was your first car? Quentin, a blue Chevy Tahoe. A gift from my grandmother to my brother, who passed it on to me. I loved him so. We rolled down a cliff together, where he died in flames, his last moments spent protecting me.
8. When did you go to your first funeral? Roger.
9. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown? Well, the family moved to New Jersey when I was about 3 but moved back a few years later. Personally, I left San Diego when I was 19, for Albuquerque.
10. Who was your kindergarten teacher? Didn't have one, I skipped kindergarten.
11. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane? I honestly don't remember when the first was. The first without my parents was when my dad pawned me off on my grandmother who was in Texas at the time.
12. Where did you go for your first date and who was it with? I think it was one of those end of the week banquet things at a summer camp. That's right, it was Jeff. I don't have a picture of him, but *giggle* I did find some recent pictures of him on myspace. *giggle*
13. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with? Hmmmm. *thinking hard* The FIRST time. Lissy? Kenji? Paul? Can't remember exactly.
14. Who was your first best friend and are you still friends with them? Chrissy, my neighbor in New Jersey. We got matching bells on our bikes and terrorized the neighborhood, pretending we were spies. We lost touch after we moved back to California.
15. Who was the first person to send you flowers, or who was the first person that you sent flowers to? Prolly a high school boyfriend, or a boy would wanted to be.
16. Where did you live the first time you moved out of your parents house? Lissy's house.
17. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day? Bunny or Devin, depends on what type of bad day.
18. Who's wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or a groomsmen? I've actually never been a bridesmaid until now, for my soon to be sister in law.
19. What's the first thing you do in the morning? Uncover the bird cages. The sound of them singing sorta pulls me more awake.
Are you talking to him [Pete] now?
Valancy Jane says:
I doubt he'll be up before noon. He works really late.
Is he a spy?
I want to date a spy.
Maybe I could get lessons in how to lie.
that might be why he works late, because he's a spy.
Valancy Jane says:
Pete says it's impossible for him to lie. He says you can tell instantly.
What if that was a lie?
That could be his cleverest lie yet.
Valancy Jane says:
So he's either honest or a spy. I'm really ok with either option.
Do you read trashy romance novels often? Yes, of course. The cheaper the cost of the book, the fewer pages before the characters get it on.
Do you really work out every day? I stretch and do a little yoga, but since the vertigo it's been hard to do anything aerobic, it's physically exhausting to be dizzy all the time.
Have you ever eaten chocolate in bed? Er, yes. It was chocolate SAUCE *wink, wink* but it still counts, right?
Have you ever eaten an entire pint, or more, ice cream by yourself? Ew, no. I'd get so sick.
Have you ever spent an entire day in bed without being sick? Yes. *big grin* From time to time I've been induced to stay in bed all day by (*remembers that she's trying to keep a PG-13 rating*) .... er, a good book.
Have you ever eaten nothing but junk food for a whole straight week? When I have Lou we suspend all the rules of eating healthy and put ourselves into a sugar coma. But Lou will tell you, I end up rooting through the fridge for a tomato after a day or two, because I can't take it anymore and want something fresh and low-sodium.
Do you shower every single morning? Yes, my day just wouldn't feel right if I didn't.
Have you ever gone to school/work only 15 minutes after waking up? Once when I had a job that started at 6AM, I had my morning routine down to three minutes. I'd shower at night, and lay out my clothes, so in the morning, I'd sit up, brush my teeth, put my clothes on and run a comb through my hair. Then out the door.
Do you ever forget to give an xmas present & instead keep it for yourself? No but when I travel, I often justify to myself the souveniers I buy by saying they're for my friends, but then when I get home I wanna keep them to remind me of the trip. But the next time I move I kick myself for not giving them away, 'cause now I've got to carry all this cheesy junk.
Do you sing obnoxiously in the car when you're driving alone? Yes of course. Last night I did a stirring sing-a-long to Clint Black with "Desperado."
Do you sing obnoxiously in the shower when no one's home? Only when I want to see my cats roll their eyes.
Have you ever watched a little kid's show when you were over 12? Yes. Mr. Rogers. I will love him, always and forever. As a very little girl, I thought he and God where the same person. When he would talk right to the camera, I would nod. When he would ask a question and then pause attentively, I would talk to the screen. I felt so HEARD by him. I was very impressed that God would spend half an hour a day to explain how the post office worked and that he had goldfish and puppets. My understanding of God is still beautifully tainted by this, to this day.
Have you ever looked forward to going to school? Maybe my first year of high school, but other than that I LOVED summer.
Do you eat all the servings in the food groups on a daily basis? I'm pretty good about the fresh fruits and veggies part.
Are you ever anal about cleanliness or organization? My cd's are alphabetized, and my car is a mess. Most things in my life fall somewhere in between, or more towards the tidy end of the scale.
Have you ever been treated for OCD? ADD? No, I know I am rather OCD when I'm stressed, but rather than obsess over things like whether I turned my oven off, I just channel it into harmless little games like counting Ford Focuses. As for ADD, I actually have a freakishly long attention span. I can lose myself in a project for hours and hours and hours.
Do you own a graphing calculator? Nope. I must have owned one in high school, but I don't remember it. Oh wait! Yes I do remember it. It had a cute blue sliding cover and I jazzed it up with nail polish and sequins. My teacher thought I was nuts.
Have you ever been to South America or Africa? Nope, but they're both on my list.
Do you know how to knit? Vaguely. But I'm a GREAT crocheter. It's that long attention span thing. I can crochet for hours and watch tv or listen to the radio. I'll make such a great old lady.
Do you have a cellphone or iPod with a patterened cover? Nope. My cell phone, Luca, is sleek and handsome.
Have you ever written song lyrics yourself and put them in your profile? Oh goodness no. There's more than enough crappy lyrics out there without me contributing.
Do you keep a diary or journal (online or on paper)? Er, yes. You might have heard of this little blog thing I have. And yes, I also keep a notebook diary.
Did you ever want to be an astronaut or a teacher when you were a kid? Not really either. I wanted to be a pirate or zoo tour guide or a horse race jockey.
Do you own a striped sweater? Hmmmm. I think so.
How often do you take a bubble bath? EVERY CHANCE I GET.
When you open your closet, what is the color of your clothes? Greens, blacks, aqua, browns, yellows, reds.
Physics or chemistry? I was brilliant at Chemistry. Which also sounds like a metaphor and quite frankly, is.
Glamorous or au natural? There's a time and a place to glam up a bit, but for the most part I'm a pretty natural gal.
Earphones or headphones? Headphones. For some reason I've never found earphones that didn't annoy the shit out of me.
Chocolate brown or teal? Tough call but I say teal.
Earrings or a ring? Earrings! As Coco says, the mark of a good earring is when it's so long that when you turn your head quickly, you can see it.
Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings? Lord of the Rings. I tried read Harry Potter, really I did. I just ............ COULDN'T get into it.
Fly or road trip? Road trip. WAAAAAAAAYYYYY more fun.
Starbucks or Petes? Hmmmm. Ironically, I was offered this choice yesterday. I chose Pete's.
What is your favorite Disney movie? Hercules. I kinda have a love/hate relationship with Disney movies, or more specifically the heroines in Disney movies. Belle was a snob, Jasmine was whiny, Cinderella had no backbone, etc... Plus all the princes were utter pussies, and so generic.
Do you have a more classic style or do you stay up-to-date? I like to think I'm ahead of my time.
How much jewelry do you own? Enough.
Have you ever eaten at a food court? Ew. Bad memories of working in a mall. Although I still get my sodas at Cinnabon for $0.75, for being a mall employee. It's like being a vetern (in more ways than one), after you suffer through it, the benefits continue for life.
Do you have a quilt on your bed? No, I haven't made a quilt since I was a kid. My mom used to get so frustrated if mine came out better than hers. I've been thinking about making one, but I'd wanna do a strange design of some sort, to sorta off-put the wholesomeness of the look. Like a pattern of dead kittens or something.
I think I'd be an ass, just 'cause I could.
I'd drive like 48 miles an hour on the freeway, so that the cars around me, while pretending not to really see me or anything wouldn't want to pass me because no one ever wants to pass a cop and so we'd all just be driving along with nonchalant looks on our faces, fiddling with the radio, driving slow as they pretended not to see me at all as they quietly hated my guts for slowing us all down, and I was inwardly laughing. Because that would be funny to me.
I'd make an extra hook or pouch or something on my belt, right next to my gun, and put tampons in it. Because seriously, who would fuck with a cop who had tampons on her belt, next to her gun?
I'd write tickets for painfully stupid bumper stickers. Of course the ticket would be thrown out by a judge, but my point would be made.
I would sew my radio into a cute little bunny stuffed animal (I worked at a teddy bear factory, I can do stuff like that) and so I'd run around listening and talking to a stuffed bunny.
I would drive around with the windows open, playing odd music as loud as I could. My Barry Manilow cd would come in handy.
I'd line up suspects and ask them to do strange things like, "lick your lips and show a little leg" or to run through some improv acting exercises, until they realized that there is no witness on the other side of the two-way glass with me.
I would put a half dozen notches on my club thingy, and refuse to explain them.
I would sing "The Song That Never Ends" all the way from arresting someone to the jail.
And of course I'll be rounding up the girls and creating a glitter shortage in the western US.
We'll scream, we'll wave posters, we'll basically annoy the ever-loving CRAP out of every other person in that theater.
We don't care.
We heart Daniel.
I'd like to open up this fun experience to those of you who live too far away to attend, or that have an ounce of shame but enjoy hearing about other people making a scene.
Suggestions for posters are now being accepted. Suggestions of things to yell are now being accepted. Yes, I AM that loud, and yes I CAN project over the miked actors.
Or ask the poor man sitting next to us at the last show, who resorted to growling at me in irratation.
Good thing I have no shame.
Suggest away in the comments section.
*eating leftover palak paneer on rice*
*glad that vj stayed away from the cheese*
*wants the cheese too*
Valancy Jane says:
*thinks about the cheese*
*mentally blocks the cheese from vj and ikey*
that sounds like a burger.
the all new vj melt from burger king.
it probably comes with a crown
and a pet tomato
Receptionist - "Well, I was aiming for a really dark brown. And I got a really, really, reallyreallyreally, really, really, REALLY, really-really, really ...... really dark brown."
CEO - "You got black."
Receptionist - "Which I like to think of as REALLY getting my money's worth."
CEO - "That's not even a LIGHT black....."
But anyway, do you think we could pitch in and help the poor boy?
I can identify approximately 11% of the products on that aisle, anything else is a blind tastebud adventure. I was standing on the aisle, contemplating two equally mysterious packages, when I saw a little boy watching me.
I held up the packages, as if weighing them, gave a questioning look and smiled.
He smiled back, but said nothing, and blushed and ran back to another aisle, but not before I'd seen his eyes light up at the darker package.
So I bought it, and boy was he right. It's some sort of fig, pistachio and coconut concoction, and its dreamy.
Wish I'd had a chance to share it with him.
It's facsinating how socially inept most of the athletes are, because they've spent the last four years of their life doing nothing but their sport.
I love how after approximately 3.27 hours of watching, you become the worst sort of armchair coach, saying things like, "I can't believe she didn't land that jump" as if you could even skate backwards.
I REALLY love the ice skater's costumes. Lou and I had a great time voting which skater out of each pair of ice dancers had the scariest costume. I mean, does his headband out-tacky all her hot pink sequins? Do her strange arm and torso bands tear at your eyeballs more than his chest hair?
But most of all, I love that Bob Costas looks more like a sheep each year. I can't stop giggling now when I watch him, and saying idiotic things like, "Look it's Baaaaaaaahhhh-ob Costas!"
Shawn died a couple of years ago in the cold one night. Alone in a park. From malnutrition and exposure.
I didn't know. I DID knew he was struggling to kick his drug habit, I didn't know he was losing that battle, I didn't know he'd been living on the streets.
I didn't know that my cousin, the same tenderhearted boy that once loved a girl in a wheelchair, and used to pick her up and twirl her around the dance floor because she missed dancing after the car accident that put her in the chair, would die in the dirt, behind some bushes.
What would I have done if I HAD known?
I don't know exactly.
I'm not so naive as to think that I could have solved his problems, or that offering a drug addict a home with me would have been a good idea.
But I could have fed him. Let him steal from me. Given him a better coat. Gone looking for him. Let him make my life hell. Loved him without judgement.
I failed him, I think, that he didn't know that.
That he didn't know that he had me.
The following is a great way to get me to return.
- Give friendly smiles that say, "We see you, we're happy to talk if you'd like, but we're not going to put you on the spot.
- Don't have stupid cheesy sayings on the marquee.
- Have events that celebrate Black History Month, in a very natural and unforced way.
- Have both a male and female pastor.
- Have comfortable pews and a bulletin thats easy to read and to the point.
- A week later, leave a coffee mug on my doormat, with a newsletter (with my ZezZee on the cover), candy and a starbucks card in it.
The next church will be hard pressed to top that.
2. what do you eat when you raid the fridge late at night? That cheese from the arabic market, leftover chicken, fruit.
3. what is your secret guaranteed weeping movie? I'm ashamed to admit I bawl like a little girl when I watch Titanic.
4. if you could have plastic surgery, what would you have done? Hm. I have this suspicion that my neck is gonna get really wrinkly when I'm old, maybe something about that. Or maybe a tummy tuck after kids. But other than that, nothing comes to mind.
5. do you have a completely irrational fear? Yes. MRI machines.
6. what is the little physical habit that gives away your insecure moments? I tap my fingernails against each other, or I get his frozen smile and nod.
7. are you a pyromaniac? I don't understand people who AREN'T pyros. Fire is COOL. I've accidently lit my bookcase on fire roughly the same amount of times my cat has lit himself on fire.
8. do you have too many love interests? I refer you to the S.l.u.t. A.r.o.u.n.d. Plan, which some of you know stands for Slowly Looking Until The Absolute Right One Ultimately Noses aheaD Plan. And I'm also considering the W.h.o.r.e. A.r.o.u.n.d. Plan, which actually doesn't stand for anything and is actually just a plan to whore around.
9. do you know anyone famous? I know a bunch of Internet Stars.
10. describe your bed: ---->
11. are you spontaneous or planned? As in my birth, or my personality? I think I was a planned child, and I'm about 50-50 in personality. I love to do stuff on a whim, but planning can sometimes be half the fun. I'm planning a dozen trips that I don't know when I'll find time for, but it gives me something to daydream about.
12. who would play you in a movie? Anna Faris. She can play carry a ridiculous scene and somehow be touching and endearing in the middle of it all, and if that doesn't describe the screenplay of my life, what does?
13. do you know how to play poker? Yes. Not very well, but enough to win a little money off the 'tough guys' at summer camp.
14. what do you carry with you at all times? Chapstick, my cell phone, a book and the mistaken idea that I'm a good singer.
15. what do you miss most about being a kid? All the time I got to spend outdoors, or the energy. Where does that energy GO when you grow up?
16. are you happy with your given name? *shrug* I don't have any real issue with it, I just never thought it suited me. I like Valancy Jane or VJ.
17. how much money would it take to get you to give up the internet for one year? I LOVE The Internet, and no amount of money can buy that love. You might stand a shot of convincing me to give it up for a year if you bribed me with a trip to a remote part of the world or something, but not for MONEY.
18. what color is your bedroom? The walls are white. Stupid apartment rules. But the color theme for my room was the colors of a peacock feather, in muted tones.
19. what was the last song you were listening to? Ah Ya Leil by Shereen, from the cd BellyDance Superstars. 'Rez sent it to me.
20. have you ever been in a play? Yes, lots of them. I love the spotlight, I'll admit it.
21. have you ever been in love? Yes!
22. do you talk a lot? I even blog a lot.
23. do you like yourself and believe in yourself? I like me. I'm cute, I'm rather self-indulgent and I write myself sexy notes on the bathroom mirror in lipstick. Christy writes me sexy notes on my mirror in lipstick too, but not as often as I do. I believe I exist, I suppose, since I get so many bills in the mail. THEY certainly believe in me.
24. do transient, homeless, or starving people sometimes annoy you? ANNOY ME?! What a horrible way to think.
25. do you consider yourself to be a nice person? I'm nice. I feed stray animals and let people go ahead of me in line and I never expect anyone to care about my vacation photos, so yeah, I guess I'm nice.
26. do you spend more time with your girlfriend/boyfriend or your friends? Do online friends count? I'm in contact with them most of the day. I see my boyfriend (when I have one) more in the evenings than my friends, at least after I've been in the relationship awhile.
27. what is your ideal marriage location? Bunny's yard, or eloping somewhere.
28. which musical instrument do you wish you could play? The cello.
29. favorite fabric? Velvet. It just makes me happy.
30. something you love and hate? Staying up late.
31. what kind of bedding do you use? I sleep on a pile of naked men that I've hired as throw pillows. Kidding. Big comforter, feather mattress top, lots of pillows
I don't know why there isn't a #32 on this.
33. what's the one language you want to learn? Well, I have a theory that you could travel and get by in most of the world if you know three languages, English, Spanish and Chinese. I speak English, I know a fair amount of Spanish, so to finish my theory, I suppose I should learn Chinese. Although I'd rather learn arabic.
34. how do you eat an apple? Start around the middle, top, then bottom. Sounds pretty standard. I must find a more interesting way of eating apples.
35. what do you order at a bar? A club? Prolly a Midori Sour, or water. A dive bar? Beer, or tequila shots. Red wine at anything upscale.
36. have you ever pierced your body parts? Well, the ones that were done on purpose were done by other people. But I did run my hand through my sewing machine once.
37. do you have tattoos? No, and I'm not sure why. I'd like to get a few.
38. do you drive a stick? Yep, and don't try to pretend that it doesn't make me cooler than I already am.
39. favorite trait of the opposite sex? I only get to pick ONE? I can't do that. Men are lovely, and fun to kiss.
40. what's one trait you hate in a person? Cruelty.
41. what kind of watch do you wear? I rarely wear it, but it's a watch face that can be strung on ribbon or anything really. I usually use a velvet ribbon, and secure it with one of the old pins my grandmother gave me.
42. most frivolous purchase? Hmmmm. Prolly some of the toys I buy for my cats or my birds, the ones they could care less about.
43. do you consider yourself materialistic? No. A bit senimental, I'll keep stuff if it reminds me of something, but I'm lucky to have pretty cheap taste in most things.
44. what are you best at cooking? Hmmmm. *looks around at her friends* I hear nice things about my avocado soup.
45. favorite writing instrument? Markers! But it's obnoxious to read, so I generally use a ball point that glides well, in black or green.
46. do you prefer to stand out or blend in? Not that it matters, I tend to stand out regardless of what I might want, but fortunately I kinda like it. Except at work, where learning to blend into the woodwork and listen quietly has proven invaluable.
47. would you ever go out dressed like the opposite sex? I suppose. I had a mustache once, and I liked it so much that I stuck it on my rearview mirror. So now when I look my mirror, I giggle because I have a mustache in the reflection.
48. what's one car you will never buy? Prolly some fast sports car. I've got nothing against 'em, but why waste that much car on a simple girl like me who drives rather sensibly? Oh and I hate two doors, it's so uncomfortable to crawl into the backseat that way.
49. what kind of books do you like to read? Secondhand ones with intriging covers, or the occasional really slutty/trashy romance novel.
50. if you won the lottery, what would you do? Buy a good camera, a really trusty backpack, some sturdy socks, and take off around the world, taking my sweet time.
51. burial or cremation? Cremation, with my ashes then put into fireworks, and lit off.
52. how many online journals do you read regularly? Hmmmm, check my sidebar.
53. what's one thing you're a loser at? Making tortillas. They NEVER come out round.
54. if you don't like a person, how do you show it? I just try to remove myself from the situation, and if I can't, I'm polite but reserved.
55. do you cry in front of your friends? Show of hands, those of you who know me in real life. Have any of you NOT seen my cry?
56. what kind of first impression do you think you give to people? I think they think I'm crazy but nice. Actually that impression rarely changes as they get to know me.
57. what's one thing you like to do alone? It depends very much on the company on offer. Some people give you the space when you need it, those sort of people you can do anything with. And then there's the rest of the world.
58. are you a giver or a taker? I think everybody's a bit of both, and I'm no exception.
59. when's the last time you cried? Hmmmmm. About two weeks ago, I found one of David's shirts in my laundry and it still smelled like him. I think I brushed away a tear or two, just the final letting go stuff, nothing major.
60. favorite communication method? MSN instant messanger. Kidding, but only slightly. I like body language.
61. how many drinks before you're tipsy? I can hold my liquor respectably, for a girl, but I am still a girl.
62. do you think you're cute? Hell yeah, have you SEEN the tiny freckle on my lower lip? I'm adorable.
63. do you have problems changing clothes in front of friends? You know, I grew up in drama and dance, and we thought nothing of ripping off our clothes in front of each other. But I might be getting more modest with age, when Miss Kendra visited, she pointed out that I was being rather modest. Well, modest in the sense that while we were stripping down in a dressing room just hours after meeting, I was still aware of the fact that she had a camera. So covering my lady bits in that situation isn't prudish, right?
I mean, I'm used to that when I get the hiccups, with the yelping noises/full body spasms, but really, I didn't think I was THAT loud of a sneezer.
Please still love me, Internet.
.......... a coworker who doesn't want her beta fish and asks you if you would be so kind as to take it, giving you the perfect cover-up for the fact that you secretly wanted another beta fish and now not only don't have to justify getting another beta fish, you actually come off the hero for taking what you wanted anyway.
.......... trying to catch an injured duck to take him to a wildlife vet, and having him escape into the middle of the lake.
.......... somehow in the confusion of trying to catch the poor duck, locking your keys in the car and having to pay two very strange and expensive locksmiths the weekend emergency rate to unlock your car, because the only other person with your car key is camping in the desert, hours away, with no cell phone coverage.
.......... finding out later that the person with your backup car key had come back early and WAS in town. *bangs head on desk*
......... making your bed at 6 AM, on San Diego's one anual cold day, and feeling the warm spot your head had left on the pillow and wanting so bad to crawl back into bed.
......... losing three (or is this four? I've lost track) oil caps in two weeks and having the guy in the auto parts store laugh when you walk in the door.
But happiness IS ........
......... finding out that it's not your fault that you keeping losing oil caps because they've been giving you the wrong size one.
............ finding out from your ex-boyfriend that your tax refund will be ....... well, wait. Having your ex boyfriend do your taxes for you, thats happiness right there. It's also when he tells you that the refund takes you completely out of debt and enough left over to finally get that closet organization system you're itching for. (I am such a dork.)
........... a weekend with Lou, watching specials on every sort of weird phenomenon, from the Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot, the Bermuda Triangle, and of course Most Haunted.
.......... having such a good time getting to know someone that you stay up until 2 AM talking, especially when he tells you that he started a conga line of senior citizens in a bar, who chanted "V - J, cha - cha!" in your honor, and that he'll let you paint his van like a circus wagon.
......... The Internet connection back up at work!!! I love you, Internet, and I never want you to go away again.
To begin our tour, we take a nostalgic look back at something we remember as 'computer solitaire.'
Coworker - "So the network isn't back up, is what you're saying."
Receptionist - "Correct."
I'm actually serious.
My theory is that if you pick any square mile on earth, the ratio of good people to bad people would be the same the world over. City, country, upscale, slum, business, residential.
That said, let me tell you a bit about my corner of the world.
El Cajon means "the box" or "the drawer" and is a square shaped valley. The floor of the valley is flat, and the streets there are all straight lines. The sloping sides of the valley, with its twisting roads, large lots, open ranch houses and scenic views, are the 'good neighborhood'. This is where I grew up. This is where I'd like to buy a house.
Currently, I live on the flat floor. It's not ALL considered the 'bad neighborhood.' Many of the apartment buildings are being converted to condos, and with home ownership (however small) comes that essential shift to a feeling of respectability on that block.
So the flat bottom is checker-boarded with good blocks and squicky blocks.
I live on a vaguely respectable corner. The back alley behind me is a place I won't walk after dark, but the street out front is usually safe if you're alert. During the day, mothers walk their children to school, and it looks clean and nice. The liquor and gun shop is on my corner in one direction, two blocks the other direction is the definative line between good and bad, as the hill slopes up.
A few blocks away, in the direction of the liquor/gun store, is my gas station.
It's the sort of place where you have to look around before getting out of your car, and perhaps put your keys in your fist so that a key sticks out from between each knuckle, so if you have to swing at someone's face, you can take out an eye. (Can't chase you if they can't see you, I'm told.)
Can't beat the price on gas, though.
Last night while getting gas, a meth addict wanted my money, and the gas station owner and a Hell's Angel convinced him that moving along would be a better idea.
Not that it was a surprising incident, but it was a rather surreal one. The Hell's Angel practically tipped his hat to me. "None of THAT *nodding to the retreating methie* in OUR neighborhood" were his words. He then picked up a case of water bottles and walked back around the corner to the Hell's Angel's bar behind the gas station.
I bet the good to bad people ratio in that bar is the same ratio you'd find in any church.
People will surprise you. In good ways and bad.
Your hero will often come from unexpected places.
I wonder if I could call that bar and put a round of drinks on my credit card.
Her name is Hennessey, at least to me it is, and she's a small stray cat. Black with tiny bits of brown like the pattern in marble. Can't be more than a year old. She scrapes out a bare existance in my apartment complex.
She might have belonged to someone as a kitten, but she's utterly on her own now.
I sneak her bits of food when I can, but if my apartment manager caught me, I could get evicted. I can't take her into my apartment because we're only allowed two cats, and I already meet that limit. Not to mention that adult feral cats can almost NEVER be tamed.
A few things make me think the right person MIGHT be able to convince Hennessey to like humans, rumor has it she was handled a bit by a previous tenant (who was evicted for feeding all the stray cats in the neighborhood) in her kittenhood and that Hennessey knows my name for her and turns to me when I call her. She has begun to trust me and let me get fairly close since I've started feeding her.
Of course allowing hunger to override caution is a far cry from adjusting happily to living with humans.
What do you do with a little kidden like Hennessey?
End her 'hard-knock life' in an unfamiliar vet office, surrounded by people she's terrified of?
Let her live out her life, producing dozens of kittens into the same life?
Because that's what brought this problem to a head.
If I take her to a shelter, they'll tell me that can't adopt out a wild or even half-wild cat. And what can I expect a from an overwhelmed shelter staff? If they've got the space and time, which is a big if, they'll let her have her kittens before they put her down, kittens are fairly easily adoptable. So I could sacrifice Hennessey for the sake of her kittens.
And no, I can't wait until they're born and just take them into the shelter. When they're born, Hen will hide them away until they're too old to be tamed.
In theory, I could take Hen to a vet, tell them she's my cat, have them help deliver her kittens, dump the kittens at a shelter, and have Hen spayed. This wouldn't really solve the problem of Hen, and would cost quite a bit of money.
So at the moment, I'm pinning my hopes on a no-kill shelter, hoping that their Cozy Cottage, with it's big screened porches and soft cat beds, will have room for her to life out her life, and that she'll adapt to the life.
I'm waiting to hear back from the shelter, to see if they'll take her on charity, as I doubt I can pay what they will ask for their "Lifetime Care."
At the least, her kittens will have a better life, but even if they take her, it's no guarantee that she'll be happy in such a strange new life.
Say a little prayer please, and PLEASE SPAY AND NEUTER YOUR PETS!!
Sniffles are very romantic.
But since I didn't want to get all my little kidlets sick, I didn't go to the church as I usually do on Tuesday nights. As I was leaving work I realized that all the tea had made me feel a little better and sitting at home on the couch surrounded by tissues all evening on Valentines Day was just a bit too lonely and cliche.
So I decided to take what I would have spent on a boyfriend if I had one, and spend it on ME. I considered a mani-pedi, but in typical VJ-style, I realized I wanted to go to the bookstore more. Besides, there prolly wouldn't be anyone to flirt with at a nail salon.
So I stopped off and bought myself some daises, and put one in my hair.
I let the teenager in the car next to me at a light flirt shamelessly with me for a little while before telling him I was way too old for him.
I traded jokes about mimes with the cute guy making my green tea latte at the coffee shop at Borders.
I winked over a row of world music cds at a short, dark and handsome man, while catching up on my resolution to listen to more music in other languages. Specifically, I listened to "Swing Around The World," "Untamed, Next Generation Celtic," and "Intergalactic Belly Dancers" which I almost bought purely for the name, but didn't because frankly, it was crap.
I bought myself some stamps of the Hebrew alphabet, some handmade paper notecards, a cd of Jonny Clegg and Savuka, which also fufills my resolution (*hums the lyric "wadlala umukwa wami engalindile kwakhikhiza abafazi" which the liner notes say translates to "My father-in-law performed an unexpected war dance"* Seriously.) and a copy of a play I did in high school, The Importance Of Being Earnest, which I particularly enjoyed. (I was a brilliant Cecily.)
And THEN I went home and crashed on the couch, surrounded by tissues, played with my new loot, and thought of some handsome stranger sharing the connection of being the next person to pick up that collection of real life unsolved mysteries and caughting my cold from it.
Two Engineers - *sing duet version of 'Who Let The Dogs Out'*
Receptionist - *giggles* "The part I like best is that you two must have practiced that all the way here."
I was all of just turned 20, living in Albuquerque, and went out one night to a local club to go dancing. I'm not one to hook up at clubs, but I met a guy there, I believe his name was Jason. I don't remember exactly, because he became very much a minor character in this story, but of course I didn't know that at the time. Eventually I left the club with him and his cousin. Jason was from out of town, just here to visit his cousin, Ray. Ray was a bit quieter, and mentioned he was was stationed here with the air force, with a wife back home in another state. The three of us went for breakfast or something, had a great time, laughing, and I left my number with Jason. I didn't expect to hear from him because he didn't live in the area.
Two days later my phone rang and it was Ray. He said he wasn't looking for a date, obviously, but that since he was new to town also, he didn't really know anybody and did I want to catch a movie or something, since we'd had so much fun the other night?
He didn't set off any sleeze alarms when I'd hung out with him, and we HAD had a great time, so I didn't think long before saying sure.
And so began a friendship. I marveled at how by the end of that first night we hung out, after walking around town, that we already felt like old friends.
My grandmother said she wasn't sure of the wisdom of being best friends with a married man far from home. I didn't listen.
I was above that sort of temptation, I thought. Women who became involved with other women's husbands are so sleezy that they're practically a different species from the rest of us, I thought. I was immune, I thought.
Humility, realizing that it would never enter my thick skull, choose instead a punch to the gut. I don't remember a moment of knowing that I now loved him, but I very much remember a moment when I discovered that I already loved him. The realization was so daunting that it was disorienting.
Which is not to excuse, or say that I didn't know what I was doing. When he sat too close, I didn't stiffen or back away. When he leaned in to kiss me, I kissed back. And when he picked me up like I weighed nothing, and walked down the hallway, I whispered nothing but encouragement.
Go ahead, be shocked. I was shocked, even at the time.
Don't bother telling me how wrong it was, I spent a long time punishing myself far more effectively than you could ever hope to.
It would be easy to see Ray as a horrible person here, but I don't. For one, who on earth am I to judge what we both did, and I genuinely believe that Ray no more sought this out than I did.
We tend to label "Cheaters" as such, that there is something fundamentally different about them, that they can be spotted, that they always were cheaters and of course always will be.
Ray called me one day to tell me that he couldn't see me anymore. He said that if he did, he might not go home to his wife at the end of his deployment, and he HAD to go home.
And I knew he was right.
I knew I'd lost from the beginning.
And if his wife ever knew about us, that's what I'd want her to know. I'd lost from the beginning. I'd never have had him legitimately, and the guilt would rob me even of the memories.
I saw Ray once last time, we ran into each other in a resturant. He was with a friend, so there was nothing I could really say except a casual goodbye. Afterwards I went into the bathroom and threw up, my body begging some sort of release from the internal windstorm of emotions. I sat there for awhile on the bathroom floor, shaking and crying.
I have no way of knowing, but I believe with all my heart that Ray returned home at the end of his deployment to his wife, a wiser and more loving husband. I always knew he loved her, in a way that was entirely separate from his love for me. I've often wondered if she would feel the same if she knew. In some strange way, I've always wanted to know her.
I left Albuquerque a few days later, headed to Minnesota, a more human being. I'm not more tolerate of cheating, but I feel more compassion, because I now know that there are no winners in the game. I've learned that it's a slipperly slope, particularly where absense and love (not just lust) are concerned.
I have run the story over in my mind, to attempt to pinpoint the exact moment I went wrong. Was I wrong to be his friend? I suppose there is some logic in saying it was wrong to act on the feelings we had, but if kisses express love, can the paint really be blamed for the picture it paints? It was just an expression of the love, and neither of us asked for that.
Some days I think we made the best of the situation that we could. Which worries me because of how easy on myself that line of thinking is.
So I suppose what I've really learned from it all was to be more forgiving of myself. And by forgiving myself I gain back the self-respect to pursue a better relationship, the knowledge of how to better preserve it, the confidence of knowing exactly how much I can lose and still feel whole, and the simple joy of remembering a drive through the desert listening to old country songs with a man I loved, untainted by self loathing.
all sorts of knicknaks and my inner child.
I plan to be a psychological warfare officer in the Army.
What I'm looking for -
A woman who gets excited about the birth of a lamb.
I have faked passing out at a blood drive.
Seriously, if you ever plan to run for anything, DO NOT COME NEAR ME, I'm the kiss of death.
who Rob is looking for
It would be nice if she was breathing, had a pulse and actually enjoyed talking to people, and had a good personality. Anyways if you have 3 out of the four above, then write me
I am looking for a petite lady who feels comfortable enough to go out in a nice nightgown.
I'm looking 4 sexy pinguins
I do bite
I love the idea of being on a desurted island.
who he's looking for
a threesome with this girl im kinda seeing
Don't laugh at my picture; it's the only one I have.
And for some reason, I get a lot of married men who say things like, I'm married and I'm looking for sex on the side. I saw your profile and figured you'd be interested.
By the bride's sister, who loves shopping.
Bethany is like me. No attention span for shopping. So she had her sister, who loves shopping, pick them out. You gotta love a bride with delegation skills. Bethany, I would so shop with you, as in the way we do, which is browse for 20 mins, try on one thing, get bored and wander over to the bookstore for the next two hours.
Anyway, here are the dresses.
'Rezzie suggests I dye my hair to match. I want to. I really, REALLY want to.
I need a vacation.
(Swings on cyberspace swing beside Veaj, not saying anything but feeling breeze on face and in hair, smelling ocean, and running toes in sand.)
*squints up at the sky, watching the seagulls*
(Looks at clouds and tries to make out shapes but doesn't really say anything.)
*sips at a mountain dew*
*sprawls out on a big fluffly towel with a TRN*
(shakes out towel, sits down near Veaj)
(picks up pad of paper and continues making up crossword puzzle questions to eventually give to someone)
*eats a frozen grape*
*offers the mini cooler of frozen grapes to 'Rez*
(absentmindedly pops a few in her mouth, smiles in thank you, sucks on them, tries to remember if umlauts is actually spelled "umlauts")
(takes off shirt to lounge in bathing suit on towel)
(moves Veaj's sandals over so she can stretch out on her stomach)
*flicks a little sand off her towel, gently, in the opposite direction as 'Rez*
*settles her mountain dew can down deeper into the sand to keep it cool*
*stares out to sea for a bit, then goes back to reading*
(gets up, dusts sand off ass)
Want anything from the car or the juice stand, Veaj?
Oh, she's asleep.
(gets guitar from the back of the jeep and her songwriting book)
(starts strumming quietly)
*dozes off again for a little *
*wakes and stands and stretches*
Wanna go for a quick dip to cool off?
Why not. I could go for a good float.
*splashes around a bit, letting the waves roll over her*
*wanders in toward the beach and starts looking for shells*
(air dries on towel and picks up Veaj's discarded TRN)
*feels sudden stab of TRN-jealousy*
*shakes off dumb jealousy and picks up another TRN*
*skips to the dog eared naughty parts*
*feels the sun dry her back*
(puts down TRN with a wink, facedown immediately after the naughtiest naughty bits, to go meander along the beach myself)
(picks up miscellaneous rocks to skip)
(winks at three cute boys)
(notices a shaggy dog alone with a ball, and starts running with him along the beach, throwing the ball)
*makes sandwiches, one for her, one for 'Rez and one for the dog*
Can we keep this dog? He hasn't told me his name yet, but he is soooooooooooooo cute! Have you ever seen a cuter dog? He's black and shaggy and friendly and enormous and I already love him and he loves me too look he's climbing in my lap and licking my face.
Of course we can keep him. I love him already. His name is Alfred. Alfie. I don't know why, but it just is.
I hope he likes tuna.
(plays in sand with Alfie)
Oh, err ---
(takes off running after Alfie who is into chasing other dogs)
Make sure he doesn't go in the water for an hour. He just had a sandwich.
Yes, David and I split up.
Before I met David, I sat in the coffee shop and watched him play while I wrote nonsense in a journal. One such bit of nonsense was that he and I had been together in a previous life, that we cared about each other very much, but split up because we fought so much.
Which turned out not to be nonsense, and really about sums it up.
And I'm fine, and we're on very friendly terms now, other than he wants visitation rights with my cats. *giggle* Seriously.
Anyway, I don't want a repeat of last time I was single, I want a little breathing space between the great loves of my life, but like any girl, I want to 'keep my hand in.'
And so, when a local radio anounced it's Mile of Men event, I alternated between thinking it was a dumb idea and "Why the hell not?"
How it works is this. They get a whole bunch of single men and line up by the side of a designated road, each holding a number on a large card.
The women are in cars, lined up, and drive past the men and call the radio station and call dibs on the number guy they want. Then next week their is a big group date where you get to meet your date.
Now, it's not that I think I can pick my perfect guy off by sight, but as Cols said, "How often do you get to go to a party where ALL the guys are single?"
And it seemed like a silly enough, crazy enough and goofy enough stunt that it was bound NOT to work, and that's fine by me. I figured I'd pick someone wildly inappropriate and have a bit of adventure at the party. The perfect way to keep my hand in, without any seriousness or expectation.
Just to ruin the ending, I didn't get through on the phone to the radio station, despite trying for an hour, the second half hour was sheer determination to win over their inept phone system.
But I don't regret going.
For one thing, it was prolly a healthy thing to look and see a visual reminder of how many nice looking single guys are out there, and looking too.
And for another, I got to see a beautiful sunrise over a gas station as I sat in a line of single women all fixing their hair.
Ok, so this morning I'm on my way to work, in the left of two northbound lanes of a surface street. The traffic in my lane is very backed up, because up ahead it becomes the turn lane to get on the freeway. There is a woman in a green SUV coming the opposite direction as me, who wants to turn left to get into the gas station. See diagram 1.
My lane is moving slowly at the moment, and since I know that once it stops, she'll never get through, I slow to a stop and wave at her, to let her know I see her and will wait for her. She looks hesitantly at me. I smile and nod.
She then immediatly, without looking, turns left across both lanes.
And gets broadsided by a landscaping crew pickup. See diagram 2.
Ok, so technically not my fault at all. But I feel horrid. Maybe she thought I was rushing her.
That landscaping truck was full of what appeared to be migrant workers. Migrant landscaping workers are often free-lance, and usually illegal immigrants. The odds that they have insurance, slim.
Both cars, prolly totalled.
They're having what I can only imagine is a very bad day.
Luckily no injuries, everyone promptly piled out of the car.
Please tell me I'm not a bad person.
I was 14 and a freshman in high school. Josh was a junior. A well-connected and rather popular one, and I was young and dumb enough to let that matter to me. And so we began dating. I pretty quickly thought better of it and was working up the nerve to tell him we needed to call it off, when he beat me to the punch.
He informed me that he felt he needed to break up with me because God was calling him to be single for the rest of his life.
I don't think he saw me laugh.
I also think I deserve a medal for managing to not let him see me laugh.
"Well, um, ok Josh. That's fine by me."
We did see each other around from time to time, and I heard he got married right out of high school.
Skip to the present.
I was very surprised to get an email from Josh.
Subject line - "Are you alive???"
Message - "Hellloooo?"
During a brief exchange of emails I let him know that any rumors of my demise were started simply to keep the IRS off my trail, and he informed me that he'd been thinking of me, and "when could he take me to lunch?"
Not 'could he' but 'WHEN could he.'
Missed a step there, buddy.
A big one.
I emailed him back. "Why?"
See, a pretty reliable source said he was still married, and as weird as he is, I never took him for a cheater.
I figured it was either an apology or a message from God for me.
'Cause have you ever noticed how if you apologize to someone that is your friend and likes you, that they'll just say, "Oh. No biggie. We're cool."
But if you apologize someone that you haven't exactly wronged, but that just doesn't exactly like you, that person will feel called on the fact that they secretly don't like you, will prolly go overboard on assurring you that you're fabulous and never said or done anything wrong ever.
I was right. It was the apology.
The following is an excerpt. Note the liberal use of the pronoun 'I' and the heading which suggests quite incorrectly that I asked for it.
Ok you asked, soo.....
Honestly I've done a lot of thinking
about my development and the stages I've gone through........ I was wrong for
what I did when I cut short the relationship we were just starting. I'm
not trying to start that over (don't worry, I'm not living in the past or
crazy....well maybe just a little crazy) :) but I have done a lot of thinking
about some of the mistakes I've made over the years. The mistake I made
with you was a major one. I'm starting to learn from the past instead of
hiding from it. I feel bad about how I treated you; I had no clue how
to have a relationship. I guess I feel like I ended our friendship really
badly and I want to fix that.
Ok, so how was that for a
I'd love to hear about your life.
I didn't see any point in telling him at the time that I was planning to dump him, and to do so now would only come off as spiteful. So how best to let this guy know that he didn't exactly break my heart and while he might still be rolling it around in his mind, I had somehow managed to pick up the pieces and move on?
Then he sent me another email, as a postscript, to make sure I knew he wasn't hitting on me.
After laughing about this with all my galpals, I responded.
Can I be honest?
Seriously, Josh, you
make it all so dramatic. It was a high school romance, we were both acting
like the kids we were. The way you've written it, like we've carved each
other's destiny or that I was nursing some secret pain over it
The only way in which you were being silly or 'dumb' was how
seriously you took yourself, and you're still doing it.
the verbal hand wringing in the email, I just can't help but think that if you'd
taken up knitting instead of email-writing, someone would be sleeping warmer
If you feel you owe me an apology or anything, just
go plant a tree or something proactive.
I'll call it
See, I knew I could call him every bad name in the book and he'd gladly sit there and take it. Because we'd still be talking about HIM. And like all people that take themselves WAY too seriously, he would react very spitefully if laughed at.
And it was all so absurd.
He spit back a very sarcastic little email in which he informed me that, "I'm actually not nearly as formal in person as I am in email, I would have been much more relaxed over lunch," and once again told me that I'd "asked for it."
Because I'd been pining for this email all my life.
Because I don't have anything better to do than go to lunch with someone I don't even like.
But I did try to be nice.
Josh, really, it wasn't your formal tone I was poking fun at, it was the fact
that you spent this much time thinking about your role in a relationship
that ended 10 years ago. That could barely be called a relationship, that
we both knew was headed nowhere.
I'm just saying, in the nicest
possible way, *charming smile* get a hobby.
And while I'm saying
things that sound much meaner than I intend them to ...........
really busy these days, with more friends than I have time for. I'm rarely
available for lunch. Email is better. I'm much less sarcastic over
As for what I'm up to, I'm not sure where to
begin, but ask me any ten questions, and we'll start from
Hmmm, you don't have time for lunch and I don't have the patience for email.
So much for all the times he said he'd love to hear about my life.
He doesn't have the time to email me.
*rereads all his unsolicted emails*
Once again I find myself with the same response.
"Well, um, ok Josh. That's fine by me."
VJ - "My father often says things to the effect that he really thinks I need a man around, to take care of me. And it always really irked me, and roused a spirit of feminism in me. Made me more determinded to hang my own pictures, squash my own bugs, I may even attempt to do my own taxes this year. 'Cause, seriously, you know. I want to be with a man because I like him, not because I can't afford a butler. And it's this line of thinking that pushes me to do things, like attempt to fix my own car. So I added oil to my car, and it went fine and I was very proud of myself. Made me wanna take off my bra and go on some sort of a protest march. Until the smoke started pouring out of my cars hood. Yeah. So I open the hood and discover that I had, like an idiot, FORGOTTEN TO PUT THE CAP BACK ON, and the oil erupted up and splashed over everything under the hood and it dripped oil on my FAVORITE YELLOW COAT when I pulled the hood up, and now my car is a moving smoke machine, and I can't believe I was so stupid and I really loved that coat, you know?
Auto Parts Store Guy - "Make and model?"
VJ - 2005 Ford Focus. She's white. And she's a she. You know, with cars you can just tell a gender. I'm sure you know what I mean. Gwen, that's her name, I just knew she was a girl. Something about her side mirrors, they just looked friendly and girly and -"
Auto Parts Store Guy - "Er, yeah. Outta stock. I can order it."
VJ - *calls all the other parts stores in the area, only to get the same answer*
*throws self down on counter and wails*
FEMINISM IS DEAD, and now I'm just gonna go marry the first guy I can get my hooks into, because my father must have been right, I can't even manage simple car repair, all my ideals are in shreds, TATTERS I TELL YOU, and unless you tell me I can fashion some sort of makeshift oil cap out of tin foil and craft supplies, then I'm just giving up and-"
Auto Parts Store Guy - "Actually, that might work, until the part comes in. Good idea."
VJ - *sits up, sniffs, shines nails on dirty yellow coat*
"Well, YEAH, it's a good idea. Everyone knows women are the smarter sex."
"No, don't bother to get the door for me. I can get it."
I know this for certain, because within an hour of meeting her, she took of her pants and started taking pictures of herself.
Miss Kendra takes acid like breath mints.
Miss Kendra is afraid of chickens.
Miss Kendra tore up one of my books, chewed it to a pulp, and made paper out of it.
Miss Kendra stopped up all the drains in my house.
Miss Kendra made a girl sit down and cry in front of a supermarket.
Miss Kendra lets sewer rats crawl all over her body.
Miss Kendra's car smells like the stale smoke of the human sacrafices she does on the makeshift altar on the backseat. She tries to claim it was the car's previous owner.
Miss Kendra's boyfriend is a drug dealer and there are pictures to prove it.
Miss Kendra went through 8 costume changes in the first two hours.
Miss Kendra put her dog on steriods, to help her take over the world.
Miss Kendra buys pictures of other people's babies.
Miss Kendra carries a purse she stole from an old lady.
Miss Kendra only wears a bra on one side.
She's nuts, I tell you.
I'm sure she'll have plenty of LIES about me on her blog.
See, it wasn't that I wanted to be Iraqi or any other nationality, but normally when I go in there, they look at me like I'm from the moon.
Suddenly, I felt like I was in. Like they saw me as someone they could chat with, not some alien life form.
Plus, I learned from him that garbonzo beans are the Iraqi equivalent of beer nuts.
I refuse to think that's weird. I will eat my breakfast and my lunch in any order I want.
Currently, I live above a couple who's idea of foreplay is fighting. Loud fight, louder sex. Repeat.
Not that I mind the noise, really. I'm a sound sleeper, and I'm sure I've played my music a bit loud at times too. Noise in small apartments in inevitable and I can deal. And it's not even that its so loud really.
It's just it's so personal.
I don't need to know, people.
I used to repeat everything they said back to them, on about a 5 second delay, to make them aware of how perfectly I could hear them. That used to work.
Now they just yell over me.
But anyway. About Trader Joes. I love it. I want to marry it.
Not only is it organic and healthy, not only does it contain the best selection of ethnic foods, it's CHEAP.
Ok, so I stocked up on a week's groceries, and 10 bottles of wine. (Ok 10 bottles isn't a weeks worth of wine, I was stocking up. Shut it.) I got some great pasta sauces, soft Indian flatbreads, sushi, etc.
How much do you think I paid?
Yep. That's it.
Oh, yeah. That total also included two boquets of flowers. One of stunning blue irises for Bunny, and some gorgeous calla lilies for myself.
Go fall in love with Trader Joes.
Fall in love with them over a plateful of their pasta and a bottle of wine. (Which will set you back a mere $5.)
failed my driving test
says the driving instructor
one silly mistake
pah, who cares what he thinks?
Run him over, that'll teach him.
Then park, perfectly.
That's therapy, that is.
This means I can go back to bed, right?
For the next 6 weeks?
That would be nice. But my boss ain't buyin' it.
Anyway, interesting article here. I could only do the bear hibernating kind, not the groundhog kind. I can never sleep if I'm cold.
This scares me. So does this.
I could always throw a wild and crazy Groundhogs Day party.
Or maybe I'll just go back to bed and hibernate, with this.
Cashier - "Wow. Thanks, I bet someone will come looking for this."
VJ - "Can I leave my number in case he doesn't come back for it?"
VJ - "Actually, can I leave my number in case he DOES come back for it?"
My coworker, the only one with more pets than me, took this picture this morning, of some bobcats that have been wandering through her yard.
She says they like the pink ball in the pool.
I want one.
I feel I deserve one, don't you?
Just a little one.
Oh, and bonus, my new favorite picture of my lovely cousin Bekah.
I am trying to hear them all, but I can't hear .................I look down
at my dusty red shoes, and with a sly smile and half closed eyes, I hold my
goldfish bag to my chest. I can hear it now. There it is. And I twirl to the
side. Glissade, pas de chat, grand jete. I have no idea where I'm going. When I
open my eyes, the air and light is different and someone is still with me. It's -
- Just the gold fish. Or rather, the goldfish. No "just," 'cause they are lovely company. We're by the river and I let them loose in it. They find a cozy little pool along the side and I build a bridge over it, so I can put my feet in and converse with the fish. Eventually I decide I like it so much that I build a tiny house over the whole bridge. Every now and then, a traveler wanders through, and I like the company.
The fish and I write a brilliant book together, using the penname "BoJangles and Horn Section."
I'm not sure, but I think we live happily ever after.
Shall I do it? Announce on my blog that David and I are over?
Announce whatever you like, it's your blog and answerable to nobody
I agree with Jonny.
Of course, this comes with a warning, Veaj.
Valancy Jane says:
*accidently pulls out a hair by the root*
Every time you're single and the internet knows, all these offers come out of the woodwork.
Valancy Jane says:
I don't know if the fluke deluge of offers will repeat itself.
You may have to go back to the W.H.O.R.E.A.R.O.U.N.D. Plan.
Valancy Jane says:
It was the S.L.U.T. A.R.O.U.N.D. Plan.
Oh. Well maybe the W.H.O.R.E. A.R.O.U.N.D. plan would work out too.
Valancy Jane says:
What would that stand for?
Or maybe it doesn't have to stand for anything. Maybe I should just plan to whore around.
Be single for a while. It's ace.
Well.. How Often Reeling Every Animal's Ringer Out Until Next Decision.
Valancy Jane says:
Yes, I can explain that to my dates and still retain a sense of mystery.
"Type: 'should I announce I split up with David?' into google and press "I'm feeling lucky" and see where that takes you. Intepret the contents of the page and there's your answer.
See, google knows EVERYTHING.
Google is the oracle of the modern age.
Valancy Jane says:
Ok, this is where it took me. http://www.kutv.com/
Well, i should think it's obvious;
You probably want nothing to do with that.
"breaking news" could have another meaning
i.e. the act of finding out what's going on, somewhere between some people you have nothing to do with, and complicating the situation.
close your eyes, and point to the screen.
what word is your finger on?
Valancy Jane says:
"a lawyer said"
and what does that mean to you?
Valancy Jane says:
So say it.
There's your answer.