A conversation while sitting outside in downtown Louisville, smoking.
Me You know, if it ever came down to it and I had to give up my love for Dean Winchester in order for you to have him and be happy, I would do that and take Sam instead and feel okay about that.
Catwoman Dean isn't smart enough for you anyway. You'd be frustrated.
Me It's true. Sam is smarter. That would work out better. Plus, he's tall. So that could work out.
Catwoman So I'm glad we're on the same page about that.
And that was how we had a ten minute discussion about fake people and what would happen if we had to compete to date them.
(I also enjoy how the wikipedia entries for both Winchester brothers list their "special powers." Though I also feel that "being so sexy it blinds" should be listed for a special power for both of them.)
2. CATCH UP, SON A totally random text received on Friday night from Ferris.
Hm. What's that, kid? You think you're cooler than me because it's a Friday night at Target and you're standing in front of me in line with your hot girlfriend buying condoms and I'm buying cat food? Ha! FUCK YOU. I bought condoms on Monday. The TWELVE pack. Learn to catch up, son.
(We later decided this would go on his tombstone.)
3. Let's Talk About WOPS This is really only going to be funny to about 10 people who understand that the inappropriateness here isn't necessarily in the content of the text messages but in the fact that I entertained communication with this sworn off vice at all.
Him I'm kinda drunk.
Me I'm kinda drunk too - but I'm kinda drunk in Kentucky.
Him That sucks for me. Bring me back a Wildcats shirt.
Me That's Lexington. I'm in Louisville.
Him Bring me back a Cardinals shirt. Pitino = fellow WOP.
Me Pitino = under legal investigation. Are you sure you want to claim him?
Him He wouldn't be a WOP if he weren't.
(We all know this is ending badly. )
4. Robin Thicke is Still The Sexiest The sound track to the best sex is always Robin Thicke.
Me I'm listening to the Jennifer Hudson album on the plan because I hear there's a song called "Don't Make Me Hit You With My Pocketbook" with Luda. I'll listen to anything Luda.
K-Roc I'm listening to mostly British bands right now, but I do love that new Robin Thicke song.
Me He's so the sexiest. Robin Thicke could sing me the instructions to a home pregnancy exam and I'd think it was hot.
(Just imagine it - the falsetto kicks in and it's all "Position the stickkkkkkk")
5. No Sympathy for Moms I actually said this to Roxanne's mom just hours before the wedding.
"I'm about to tell a story about sex and cake. Can you hang?"
(And....that's why I'm not the one getting married.)
And...GO! A Friday Ten In Which I Give Up on the Rest of the Year
Ha! Do you like how I stopped the Africa updates right before the three single best days of the trip (lions, gorillas and zebras?). I actually have a rare 20 minutes of down time right now when I should be trying to clean out my inbox, but let's just update instead. There are many, many things going on right now.
1. I LOVE STRESS: I mean, I probably don't love the way that it ages me, but I do thrive on it. The good thing about the current levels of stress is that it comes at a time of year when I habitually get manic anyway. I'm averaging about 4 hours of sleep a night right now. You would think that with 20 hours of awake time a day I'd have time to answer people's emails or return phone calls or not bail on social engagements. Ha! Here's what I'm balancing right now:
- A stressful job transition that's also resulted in some bad mojo for some people who work/ed with me. So I'm basically working about 12 hours a day, on a good day. Literally, my day starts at 7:30am. Around 4pm, I go to the gym for a couple of hours, and then around 7pm I start working again. Usually until around midnight.
- November is NOT party season in Vegas, but we're determined to make our revenue goal, so finding people who want to party in Vegas during one of the months of the year when NOBODY parties in Vegas is hard.
- You know it - it's holiday season. I have a shopping list of 120 people plus a card list of about 300, and you know that the majority of that card list gets that custom, special letter that Pookie and I do together which is 3x the work of a card and 10x the expense of a card. And you also know that of that 120 people a lot of them get things that I make, and though I made 35 of something during the summer, that's still a lot to do. The good news is that I have "the spreadsheet" completed. The bad news is that I also have three months of late birthday presents that need to be sent out as well. Viva!
- I AM OUT OF SHAPE: Which means I'm running like a beast. I'm not sure how it happened. I was underweight before I left for Africa, but still in good running shape. I didn't gain weight in Africa, but I also didn't run. And then when I got back, I didn't get right back to running, and I ate a lot of pizza, but it wasn't all that out of control. But when I went for my first run back this week, I was sucking air at four miles. Not good.
- AND THEN I HAD A PANIC ATTACK ABOUT MY SCHEDULE. Literally, a breathing issue panic attack. I did my calendar, and I realized that between the time I got back from Africa and the week after New Year's, I had only two weekends where either I didn't have an out of town trip scheduled or I have people in town. One of those weekends is this weekend, and one is either the weekend of December 8th or December 17th, depending on which weekend I do "Holidays in LA." After Africa I had Halffington in town, then the eight million nieces PLUS Jess's bachelorette, this weekend is blissfully off. Then November: the first weekend Matty and Jess get married, the second weekend I am going to Vancouver, the third weekend there are LA girls in town, and the fourth weekend I'll be in New York for Thanksgiving. Then there is December: the first weekend I'll be in Texas for Paul and Kari's wedding, one of the next two weekends I'll go to LA, then I'll be home in Pittsburgh for the holidays, then I'll be in Arizona for New Year's. When I looked at that schedule, I had a panic attack. Because, if you're following, I have no down time during the week right now. There's nothing I'd want off that schedule though. So I'll just buckle down and make it happen.
Here's the most awesome thing about that schedule though. So the other day I was having lunch with this boy I really like (and who I think really likes me) and he said, "Yeah, I'm going to be out of town the next two weekends."
And I immediately made my pouty face like I was so offended that he wouldn't want to spend time with me so badly that he'd leave a weekend clear. And he looked at me like I was the world's biggest hypocrite and said, "We're both really busy people. That's how it is with people like us."
AND I TOTALLY CONTINUED TO MAKE MY POUTY FACE LIKE I WAS 100% IN THE RIGHT. Which is, you know, ha ha ha ha ha ha, because if the question had been reversed and he had asked me what my weekend plans look like in the near future, I would have been all like "Yeah, why don't you talk to me in January. That's when it looks like things clear up for me."
Awesome.
And so I am stressed. My plans this weekend involve locking my door, closing my curtains, turning off my personal phone (but leaving work phones on, sigh) and chilling out - even if chilling out means that I'm actually doing work, just doing it in the comfort of my (now clean!) home. There will be crockpot action. There will be outings to the gym. There will even be laundry (which I find peaceful and relaxing - the sound of the dryer running in the background while I look at spreadsheets). There will be reading. There will be holiday crafting. THERE WILL BE ZELDA. And by 7am on Monday morning I will be refreshed.
And by 10am on Monday morning I will be in exactly the same stressed out, maxed-out place I'm in right now!
Listen, this is me saying I love everybody, but anybody who knows me knows that I go dark in November and December, and this year will be worse because of additional factors. Don't hate. Just know that when I'm not emailing or calling, I'm wishing that I were. If you are on Facebook then you get more action from me. That's all I'm saying.
2. A Little Ditty for the Marketers: Yeah, sorry, this is only funny if you've ever run a marketing department before, but since a lot of you have...
Me So, you know, I would need the data on x as it compares to y in order to decide what I wanted to do with that situation.
Other Person Um, yeah, the only way to get that data is manually.
Me You mean, like, read it and enter it into a calculator?
Other Person Um, yeah.
Me But...but...it's housed in a database!
Other Person Yeah, but there's really no way to easily ... let me just get you a calculator.
Let me tell you, there's some automation about to happen here. I can't think of a LESS useful way to spend my time than manually transferring data.
3. A photo that makes my photos look lame: It's seriously like Mr. Holland's Opus in Pittsburgh. I'm not even joking. My little bro just out-ghetto'ed me. "Mr. J" wins. I don't even know what to do with this.
4. Car! Detailed! Yes, finally. For those of you who have been following the saga, a can of Pepsi exploded in my car earlier this summer. The car needed to be detailed before that, but after the can of Pepsi exploded, it REALLY needed to be detailed. You know how sometimes things make it on to your to do list and then just keep getting moved to the bottom because it's such a hassle?
Then a couple of months later, I accidentally left some batteries in the car during the high heat and they leaked. Then the car REALLY REALLY needed to be detailed. However, not so much, apparently, that it rallied my ass out to get it detailed.
Then LAST WEEK I was on my way to a meeting and I hadn't eaten yet so I tried to eat sushi in the car. And at a red light, I went to open the little packet of soy sauce and it exploded all over the inside of the car.
But you know what finally got me motivated to get the car detailed? My tags have been expired for OVER A MONTH NOW because I've been too lazy to get my smog check done. The last time my tags were expired I totally got pulled over for a moving violation and had to eat the other $150 fine for having expired tags. So I finally got my car into the Saturn dealership. Exciting!
And then today I mailed in the smog check and the tag registration and was so excited that those things could be moved off my to do list.
And then I got home and opened my mail, only to find out that my lack of paying attention had meant that my driver's license had expired and I forgot to renew it, so I'm now driving on a suspended license. HOT.
I am a HOT MESS people.
5. Can we talk about SMOS briefly? You know how every year around this time, when things start to get crazy busy in my world, I start this lecture about how "I REALLY need to do something to slow the pace of my life down?" And then I go into this whole inner turmoil about how I would benefit from slowing myself down, but my nature is to live fast and big and I'd hate to have missed out on any of the things I would have missed out on if I didn't live that way? Well, can I say that in many ways this year I failed to slow the pace of my life down (see the two month schedule above as Example A). However, SMOS has totally made me slow down at least a section of my life. I have the most lovely, wonderful, beautiful men in my life right now. And if I had been going at my normal pace, I'd be well ensconced in another relationship by now and would have missed out on a lot of wonderful things I've learned. So, I'm saying, SMOS is the best thing I've ever done for myself. I did have a little bout of "single insecurity" going on the other week. And Shimmy reminded me that that's the point. As she said, "You need to become secure in the insecurity." She is so zen.
Slowing my life down will, once again, be something about myself that I try to work on in 2008. The other one will be trying to be at my best even when I'm not motivated or not inspired, which is something I learned this year is a weakness of mine. That is all.
6. I went through a phase this week where... I couldn't stop lusting after Luda. Yep. Sure did. I mean, like, talking about how hot he was all day long to anybody that would listen. Then Pookie drunk IM'ed me, and he sent me a copy of "Sexy Motherfucker" by Prince. And then I couldn't decide who I thought was sexier. Here, ponder for yourself.
7. The best thing you won't hear on my public playlist this week. You won't hear it, because I can't find a copy to put on the playlist, but there's a 2 DISC cd set of mashups of Britney and/or Madonna songs that made it down the girl chain from Ang to Shimmy to me. All the mashups are good, but there are two I just leave on repeat and listen to over and over again. One is a mashup of Missy Elliot's "Pass That Dutch" with Madonna's "Holiday", and the other is a mashup of "Holiday" with D-Child's "Make Me Lose My Breath." AND THOSE TWO MASHUPS ARE SO GOOD. You should totally try to find them online somewhere if you can. I can't stop listening.
Also, why do we love D-Child? It's because of lyrics like this: "Ooh Two things I don't like when I'm trynna get my groove - Is a partner that meets me only halfway, and just can't prove - Take me out so deep when you know you can't swim- Need a lifeguard and I need protection- To put it on me deep in the right direction. Ooh You understand the facts that I'm trynna give to you- You movin' so slow like you just don't have a clue- Didn't momma teach you to give affection? Learn the difference from a man and an adolescent It ain't you boo, so get ta steppin'"
Secondly, here's a conversation Halff may not have wanted to be made public. He and I are in the car (unfortunately pre-detailing job) listening to said cd (disc 2!).
Halff These mashups are way better than the original Britney and Madonna songs.
Pause
Halff and I Simultaneously Except for "Holiday." That's a great song on its own.
What have we learned? Mash any song with "Holiday" and everything gets better.
8. Cat Blog! This is honestly how fat Sly is. This is how he's sitting: He has his back paws on one chair, his front paws on another chair and his HUGE GUT is actually hanging between the two chairs. I am a bad mom!
9. Because I need a number nine ... Listen, I'm going to come clean here. Because the Rockies are Ry's favorite team, I always put $5 on them to win the World Series at the beginning of the season as a show of faith to him. The odds at the beginning of the season were, like, 30 to 1. I'm sorry. I know so many of you are Red Sox fans, but mama wants a pair of $1300 snakeskin Versace shoes she saw the other week. Go Rockies!
10. And a playlist! When I get super stressed like this, the music sounds more like a nightclub. Why? That's so obvious. Because nightclubs are where I reduce stress. Here's what we're listening to in Jocelyn world right now.
"Do It Well" - J-Lo: OHMYGOD! How much do I LOVE the new J-Lo single WITH a breakdown from my boyfriend Luda? I've been warned that if I don't stop playing and dancing to this in the work environment there will be a boycott, but IT'S SO GOOD. I work to it, I do laundry to it, I run to it. It's the best thing EVER. Or at least recently. You can't even listen to this and then listen to "Gimme More" and take Britney even a little bit seriously. I LOVE J-LO.
"Lose My Breath" - D-Child, "Pass That Dutch" - Missy Elliot and "Holiday" - Madonna: Okay, I can't give you the mashup, but I can give you all three singles and you can imagine. And dance. You can imagine, and then you can dance.
"Sexy Motherfucker" - Prince: "In a word, it's you I want to do." Or, better yet, "I want to get to know you, tell me what you do, what you eat...I might cook for you."
"Sexy motherfuker, shaking that ass, shaking that ass."
"End of the Night" - Luda: I mean, I could have picked any song here. He sounds smooth and sexy on anything. That is all. If for no other reason, this song is on because of these lyrics: " By the end of the night you gon' be wantin to marry a nigga Cause I make 'em erupt like volcanoes, you just shake and you shiver Get 'em up, get down, turn around and put your face in the pillow Cut 'em up like Jason, just face it that boy Luda's a killer Half man, half gorilla, beatin all on my chest Pleasin all of your flesh, squeezin all on your breast Givin you reasons to rest, and ain't never say no to papi Wake 'em up like Folgers cause I fold 'em like origami Hey mami let's get it poppin like Orville Redenbacher The way you move once you started nothin could ever stop ya Sweeter than Betty Crocker, and I'm ready to belly flop ya Just mention today but for now I forever gotcha"
Yep.
"Great Pumpkin Waltz" - Vince, Guaralid: Okay, so you'll only get a snippet here, but I've been listening to the whole thing. You know how I love my Peanuts holiday dvds.
Oh, God, come on, that's awesome how I just transitioned from Luda rapping about dirty sex to Charlie Brown. Give me points!
Special Extra Bonus Item! So I can't sleep (shocker) so I log into Facebook because I notice that AshleyPooh has tagged a new photo of me. It is a photo of me and my niece Stephanie "recovering" on my couch the night after all of these photos were taken. Nice, Ashley. Thanks for bringing this picture to the public. I really think the comment I left Ashley on Facebook says it all, which is, "Why would you post this? I look like I just spent five days doing crack."
Which is also what I felt like because my body doesn't recover from staying out all night two nights in a row as quickly as it used to. But I have no pride, so I'll share.
"So...What You're Saying is That You Would Really Prefer If I Didn't Date Other People?": The Friday Five
That's an actual question that I had to ask this week, and I'm pretty sure that my response of laughter after I said it was not what the other person wanted to hear. But listen, people make agreements about how things are going to operate. And there was an agreement made. And that is all. Except, you know, there went my night tonight. Four hours of conversation I'll never get back.
This Friday Five is actually a Friday 10 since there will be no Friday Five next week since I will be up on the top of a mountain (not just any mountain, the highest mountain in the continental United States) getting my bliss on with my favorite Hoosier boys. So we're killing it here, including ten songs on the playlist. Maybe you want to just read half this week and then read half next week when you're missing me? That's fine. Just make sure you read about the bitchwhore contest.
1. Speaking of that Camping Trip: So okay. The best friend of the incredibly cute and amazingly funny newspaper boy says that I'm making a horrible generalization when I say that you should never let men plan anything. But I'm going to say, "You should never let men plan anything." Let me give you some examples of things that happened during our CONFERENCE CALL about last minute logistics for this trip. And fyi, only MEN require a conference call to get shit together for things like this.
"I mean, we maybe don't so much have mountain permits, per say."
"Yeah, I mean, I know that I get in super late, but I guess I'll just run through Wal Mart when I get off the plane and get, I don't know, some granola or something."
"Are you sure it's going to only take us two days to summit this mountain? Because...well, this says three?"
And I responded to all three as follows:
"For fuck's sake, E and I will go up early and get the permits."
"SHUT UP. Just send me a list of what you want to eat and I'll buy it and pack it and bring it in the car with me."
"So, if it's three days, that means that the entire rest of the itinerary is off, right?"
Never.Let.Men.Plan.Anything.
2. Speaking of Men: Oh my GOD. Then, on Tuesday night, I get a call from Big R. "Hey, I have this friend who's a pilot whose flight got grounded and he's in town overnight. Can you go have a drink with him? You'll really like him."
To which I respond, "No ... no. It's already 10:30pm on a Wednesday. It'd be midnight by the time I got there. And anyway, I'm kind of in a situation where that wouldn't be cool, so...just...no."
Except that of course I get talked into it.
HOW ON EARTH DID YOU THINK I WAS GOING TO NOT HATE HIM?
Here is the first exchange that happens within minutes of sitting down.
Him It's important to me that you not get intimidated because I'm so smart. I mean, sure, I have to know all about math and meteorology and physics for my job, but that's just second nature to me. Don't be intimidated by how smart I am.
Me Oh, I'll really try not to be.
But he's a friend of a friend, so even though in real-life that would have immediately warranted an "I have to go now," I stuck it out. And then this gem rolls out while we're talking about hometowns.
Him You know what I love about Pittsburgh?
Me The food? The Steelers? The beautiful rivers?
Him (leaning in conspiratorially) It's a WHITE city.
My God, that happened. Again, because he's a friend of a friend, I make an attempt to parry with some comment about how Pittsburgh's racial diversity is underestimated, though of course what I really wanted to say was something else (like "I like brown"). And while I am tempted to pull out the "I have to go now," I stay. Until this.
I'm telling him the story about how I lost my passport and the hassle it is to replace a passport.
Me I don't know if you've ever lost a passport and had to replace it but...
Him I would NEVER lose a passport because that's an important travel document and I would know enough to keep track of where it was.
Me Sure, but what happened was that I had misplaced my license and had to use my passport for ID for a couple of weeks and ... (and I stop, realizing that I've said the wrong thing).
Him You know, if I were your boyfriend, I'd really have to slap you around now and then when you did stuff like that.
Me (wait for it) I have to go now.
WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU THINKING WHEN YOU TALKED ME INTO HAVING A DRINK WITH HIM? AND DON'T TELL ME THAT HE'S NOT LIKE THAT WHEN HE'S NOT DRINKING. GOOD GOD.
3. bitchwhore!: Okay, so F-Bomb and I want to have a contest, and sometime this week many of you will actually get an email from me harassing you to participate in the contest, but I don't have time for that right now. So I'm throwing up here to start and maybe you can get your groove on before I pressure you into it. So there's this whole inside joke going on with this word that I use ALL THE TIME. The word obviously being "bitchwhore". And I was tasked by F-Bomb to bring the word to the masses, because it's awesome (though in fairness I don't think that I originated the word). So, you've obviously seen the big link over there to the bitchwhore store. Go spend the $10 and buy yourself a t-shirt. Then, take a picture of yourself in the t-shirt, preferably somewhere with either massive natural or architectural awesomeness because we're going for irony. Or at the care home the next time you visit grandma. Or get out the makeup and go glam or goth. Whatever. Then email me the picture. Once we get 10 or so of them in, we'll put up a flickr stream and a Myspace page. then in November we'll narrow the field to 5 or so awesome finalist (more if we can rally enough people to get a lot of pictures) and put up and online poll and we can all vote and the winner gets $100 iTunes gift certificate from us. Or if you're too technologically challenged to use an iTunes gift certificate, we'll give you a gift certificate to the Olive Garden or TGIFridays or Red Lobster or whatever. A few things.
- You are not limited to shirts, because I get that the shirts are girly because they were designed by a girl and an effeminate man. There's a coffee mug. You can take a picture with the coffee mug.
- That thong is on there because I personally wanted one. I WILL VIOLENTLY BEAT THE FIRST ONE OF YOU WHO HAS ME OPEN AN EMAIL PICTURE OF YOUR CROTCH WITH A BITCHWORE LOGO ON IT. Though shots of you with that thong on your head are fine.
- I'll immediately advance any man to the final who takes a picture in the spaghetti strap cami (Mikey - that means YOU).
- You can send as many pictures as you want.
- TELL YOUR FRIENDS TO PARTICIPATE. If we get enough people, we add prizes.
Finally, (I Love) Paul Jack and (I Also Love) Dex are required to participate el pronto because I made two limited edition shirts just for you all. One with the "PS: It's a trap" line on it and one with "Sugarpussy" on it.
Click here to get your gear and go take a picture. Don't be cheap. You can get a shirt for $10. Or you can spent $20 and have something that looks hot. Doesn't matter to me. If you order soon, you avoid the nagging email from me.
4. All the way at number four is: And we're all the way to number four before we even talk about how much effing ass I kicked this week. Did you see my boss on NBC? Or on CBS? Or on ESPN? Were you among the sudden throng of needy Las Vegas party whores who want help? Did you get a job offer that works so perfectly that it means that after this Super Bowl you could take an entire eight months off without working at all? I did! Plus there were like a zillion other things because I AM ON FIRE. Funny how that happens when you shed off dead weight.
5. So, The Subtle Knife: What is wrong with you people? What is wrong with ALL of you who were like "I could barely get through the second book in that trilogy?" The second book is like a thousand percent better than the first. The storyline moves faster, you get to finally see where things are going, there's the bond between the children and (SPOILER) the scene where Lee Scoresby dies is written so well. I plowed through all three hundred pages in, like, four super busy days. I don't get it. But I'm totally looking forward to the third one.
6. I cannot watch Age of Love anymore: He kicked Jayanna off, and that's not cool. The fun has stopped now that actual hearts are involved.
7. So, football: Starts next weekend. NEXT WEEKEND. Already this week I felt the heat. There's so much to do. So much to do. But I'm the kind of girl who, the more there is to do, the more I get done. My staff is like that too, so they've all stepped it up and things are in an awesome flow. But I mention this because you know what happens when football happens. Less writing here. I go dark on the emails for weeks at a time sometimes. Not so much fun on MySpace. Okay, probably still lots of fun on MySpace because that's often a distraction that's perfect when I need a minute of break. But still. I can't believe it. I feel like I was JUST writing an entry about having post-Super Bowl hangover a week ago, but it was months.
8. I'm about to shut down my computer and go watch some 90210: Just thought you should know. And also, once again, I'm one item short of ten to make this happen.
9. I had no idea: I was watching So You Think You Can Dance this evening while in "awkward conversation recovery mode" and the musical guest was somebody named Mika doing a "song" called "Love Today." I had no idea. I'm still not even sure I understand what I watched. Could this really be happening on American TV? I mean, even with a Wayne Brady hosted lyrics show on TV, I expected more than bad Eurotrash pop even from Fox. I was originally bummed that I couldn't find a YouTube clip of the actual performance from So You Think You Can Dance tonight because it was undeniably special. But I found the actual music video and, frankly, it may be more special. You will sit and be confused. Baffled. And you must at every moment remember that this is not irony: This is not a video some college kid made in his basement to mock bad Eurotrash pop. Oh no, this is bad Eurotrash pop that is INVADING OUR SHORES. Forget the Minute Men down on the Mexican border. THIS IS THE CRAP WE NEED TO STOP FROM MAKING IT'S WAY INTO OUR PRECIOUS COUNTRY. OH MY GOD.
ps: Also embarrassing as a nation? When Wade Robson choreographs an anti-war dance, you know, ART and Fox makes the So You Think You Can Dance judges apologize for the STATEMENT OF HIS ART to all the lame ass deep southerners who complained. Unreal.
10. Here's a playlist: Because I'm ON FIRE right now, the playlist reflect that!
a. Fiona Apple: Extraordinary Machine: Because that's what I've felt like lately. In all respects, including the one she's talking about.
b. Savage Garden: Truly, Madly, Deeply: It's always been a guilty indulgence song anyway, but it got drunk sung to me this week and I was all like "Aw, cute." And it put it back on the radar because then I listened to it all week and was like "That was some cute drunk singing."
c. Charlie Daniels Band: Devil Went Down to Georgia: Because it randomly cycled through my playlist while I was running this week and I can't stop singing it, such as it.
d. Lyle Lovett: If I Had a Boat: This is a live version, which I actually prefer. I've been listening to it when I get a little too hyper during the day and I need to chill out.
e. Spice Girls: Wannabe: I mean, who HASN'T been listening to the Spice Girls since you heard about the reunion and watched that painful hour of Posh? "So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!"
f. Joss Stone: Sleep Like a Child: I'm still on my Joss Stone kick, and this is another song I've been listening to when I need to chill out my mind during the day.
g. Amy Winehouse: In My Bed: This is actually from her first album, which Ferris and Dana let me burn while I was home. It's my favorite track off of that album. I think I recall that it's Dana's favorite, too.
h. Ryan Shaw: Nobody: Okay, so just so you know, this track is off of his promotion site, so it's a little slower than the radio edit. Which is unfortunate because the song is AMAZING. Go to his MySpace or something and listen to the real version.
i. Kitaro: Silk Road: I mean, I've been listening to just a lot of Kitaro (thanks for putting that on your MySpace Ferris) all week to relax. Yep.
j. Violet Indiana: New Girl: Because I listen to Violet Indiana when I want to be still.
1. Screw You Grey's Anatomy: I don't even LIKE that show. I avoid it like the plague. McDreamy, McSteamy, Mc-I-Would-Kick-These-People's-Asses-In-Real-Life. But in a catch up maneuver, I watched the season finale. AND I CRIED LIKE A BABY OVER THE WHOLE WEDDING/NOT WEDDING STORY LINE. The vows that never get said. When he left her at the alter. The very last scene where she realizes that she's both relieved and sad that he's left her. BAWLING. And now, and now, I may have to watch next season to see what happens. Damnit.
2. Uganda, U Got Me: This is how this conversation rolled out.
Me to Lis NO. I am not coming to Uganda with you. Not at that price tag, and not during football season. There is ZERO CHANCE that that is going to happen, so stop asking.
Me to My Mom NO. There's no way I'm taking that trip to Uganda at that price tag and during football season. Think of all the places I SHOULD put that money.
Me to K-Yo No way I'm going to Uganda. I have things I need to pay for with that money. NO WAY I'm going.
And then the following three things happened: Lisa was relentless. I'd be sitting in the office reviewing a tracking report and suddenly an email would appear in my inbox with pictures of wild gorilla or girraffe or rhinos and a note from somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody who had been to Uganda about how amazing Uganda is. Last week? I heard about NOTHING but Uganda. Uganda, Uganda, Uganda.
My mom pointed out that the only thing that money can buy is a happy memory. We can discuss that financial role modeling later.
K-Yo pointed out that the other things I could use that money to pay for will always be there, but Uganda with Lis may be a once in a life time. And I've never been to Africa.
And before you know it, I'm checking the visa/passport situation, arrival and departure dates and immunization schedules. YOU GOT ME, OKAY? I'LL GO ON YOUR STUPID AFRICA TRIP TO SEE THE STUPID GORILLAS AND PROBABLY FEEL LIKE MY LIFE IS CHANGED FOREVER WHEN I GET BACK. YOU WIN.
3. Blake has beatboxed his way into my heart. And then this conversation today.
Me Listen, I like Blake, too, but I really don't think you can make the argument that he *should* be in the final two.
Bon Bon I don't care. I love him. And anyway, how many straight white guys have ever won American Idol?
Me Oh, honey, honey, honey.
Bon Bon What? You're going to point out that Taylor Hicks won last year?
Me No. I'm going to point out that Blake Lewis cannot be a straight white man.
But I Have MySpace! The first of the key IM conversations happens with Ferris. You may think we are both smart, articulate people, but we spent an hour on Wednesday IMing about Jennifer Lopez and Sanjaya Malakar. And then this happened.
Ferris What were our parents doing at our age?
Me My mom was pregnant with Pookie when she was my age.
(pause)
Me Yep. Pretty much at my age my mother had babies, and I have ... MySpace.
(And for the record, this exchange is much funnier if you could hear Ferris' response, but I pretty sure it's not approved for posting.)
GO DEVILS. I have a friend (or many, but this is in reference to one specific one). We don't speak all that often, but I adore him. I'm not about to stroke his ego and list the specific things that I adore about him, but to understand what happens next you need to understand that one of the things that I adore about him is the dynamic he provides me with. So the thing about him is that he can push my buttons in .004 seconds flat. Often, he does it entirely unintentionally. Sometimes, he does it to amuse himself. Sometimes, he actually gets me worked up and defensive about things we share the same opinion on. Rarely, but not never, he does it and then stifles a smirk as I go into hyper mode and sound like this: "What are you saying? What are you saying? What are you saying? I can't believe you just said that. But, but, but..." Other people, people who are related to me, people who have dated me, have all commented the following, "Man, he can push your buttons faster than anybody I've ever seen."
And here is the kicker. Many people would describe me as a button pusher myself. But this particular person seems to be impervious to my efforts to get him worked up. I throw things out there to try and prod at him, and it's like I'm throwing a big foam softball that he takes a whack at with a tennis racket and it comes back and hits me in the face and suddenly I'm all like "What are you saying? What are you saying? What are you saying? I can't believe you just said that. But, but, but..." And I have always appreciated about this person that my attempts to push at buttons roll off his shoulders and yet, somehow, he can get a reaction out of me by giving me a sideways look. I appreciate the change up in my daily dynamic.
Until yesterday.
Yesterday, I am eating a burrito and doing my taxes and I look at my Gmail Chat and notice that said person has changed his status indicator to cheer for the New Jersey Devils, in almost direct contrast to my Gmail Chat status indicator that was rallying for the Pens. And yes, yes, this is a discussion of an event that was launched by status indicators in Gmail Chat. And so I change my status indicator to tell him to live in the now with the team of the future, and he changes his to remind me that only one of those two hockey teams "knows how to win championships." And I'm all like, "That's so cute. He felt like playing via Gmail Chat." And I go back to eating my burrito and being horrified at how many line items on my 2006 credit card statements are literally for slurpees from 7-11. And then...
The chat window opens, and paragraphs, PARAGRAPHS, start rolling in about the New Jersey Devils and their apparent superiority over all other NHL teams, EVER. I am so shocked by the deluge of PARAGRAPHS of impassioned Devils adoration that I actually slide my chair back from my desk in physical shock. Holding my burrito in one hand and my 1099 itemized sheet in the other, I occasionally begin to slide my chair back towards the desk to hazard a response, but as soon as I do, there is another PARAGRAPH about how the NHL changed the rules to try to bring the Devils down and the Devils still kept on winning, or about how they're a true team and not a bunch of individuals, or how they have the greatest goalie to ever play the game (Uh, Patrick Waugh, anybody?) ... and more! And it just kept going! The paragraphs came so quickly I couldn't even keep up with reading them. And, I have to say, I know this person to have great passion, but I have never seen him express such deep passion as he did for the New Jersey Devils during this IM exchange.
And for a moment, I am...triumphant! That's right. Three years later, I manage to push a button that causes him to stop in the middle of his work day and set me straight about my misguided hockey beliefs. In my head, as I was carefully sliding my chair back towards my desk, waiting to see what would happen next, I envisioned what this must look like. What joy I would see if I were able to be in two places at once and watch this go down. His furiously fast typing into the tiny Gmail chat box while hunched over the keyboard in the midst of fiery emotion. Red laser beams shooting out from behind very sexy, thin-rimmed intellectual glasses. Quickened breathing. A half-eaten take-out container of nachos abandoned while he ferociously puts me in my place about the special place in hockey hierarchy that the New Jersey Devils have reserved for them.
AND EVEN IF THAT IS NOT HOW IT WAS, YOU WILL LET ME HAVE THIS ONE. YOU HAVE DESTROYED ENOUGH ILLUSIONS FOR ME. LET ME HAVE THIS.
I'm going into the neutral corner for now. Go Sharks.
And, finally, this sexiness
DCWP I'm currently at the Midwest Political Science Association's annual meeting.
Me I can't think of anything that sounds like a sexier gathering than the Midwest Political Science Association's annual meeting. I need to go shower about now just to cool down.
DCWP If i told you the title of my paper was "BRAC ATTACK: The Politics of Military Base Closings" would that make you even hotter?
Me I'm quite sure I wouldn't even be able to handle it. Now go find me a nice academic husband while you're there. Somebody whose paper is on something unbearably sexy like the politics of agricultural subsidies or re-inventing voting laws though a return to town hall meetings.
Form Over Function, Function Over Form Also subtitled: Phone Drama Continues
I have often in my life been known to choose things that look pretty over things that work well. My cell phone is an example of that. Oh, I know, and knew before I bought it, that the pink RAZR phones had tons of problems. But they were so cute. And I am cute! This is an actual conversation I had with Luca yesterday.
Luca Your phone is still broken? You KNOW the RAZRS have problems. Why did you get one?
Me It was pink.
Luca Let me guess. You have clothes and purses you bought just to match your phone.
Me And a matching iPod. And lots of matching sunglasses.
Luca Of course you do. Of course you do.
Me Kisses!
And so my warranty replacement phone finally arrives yesterday - AND IT IS DEFECTIVE. It doesn't pick up my voice. If you are a 200 lb man with a booming voice, the phone picks you up just fine. If you are 110 lb girl with a girl voice, no bueno. But did I upgrade my phone? Nope! Insisted on a RAZR so I could stay pink. I suggest texting for the weekend if you need to get in touch with me.
Don't Be Calling My Mary-Kate, Ya'll So, Ryan posted those pictures of me in Long Beach over on MySpace and I do look really thin in them, and there was also talk of this picture where I'm the first to admit that I look a tad bit Ethiopian. And this has led to a rash of emails from folks telling me I look too skinny. So I just want to put that to bed. I'm running a marathon in two weeks (yikes!) and I get really skinny when I distance run that much. I don't weigh a lot right now, it's true. Please believe me that I'll bounce back up to a healthy 125 or so after this race. Maybe even 130 if I give into the PMS temptation of pizza. I miss my boobs, too. But at least my hips will never, ever go away! Don't stress. It's just that it's race season.
You Clearly Have Me Confused with Somebody Else This is an actual part of an actual conversation discussing an actual relationship I was once in.
Him You know what I loved about our relationship? That you and I were both looking forward to the part where we got tired of sex because it meant that we were moving to a higher ground.
Me (Looks around in confusion. Makes confused face. Squints.) Are you sure you don't have me confused with one of your other ex-girlfriends?
And then, later...
Him You know, I always felt like it wasn't fair because you keep your body in such amazing shape, and I wasn't giving that back to you, though it never mattered to you.
Me (Looks around in confusion. Makes confused face. Squints.) That wasn't me. That was somebody else. I was the one who told you that if you gained any more weight we'd start running into a problem. Do you remember our relationship at all?
I mean, it's kind of like I felt like there were moments when we were talking about two different relationships. But that kind of not being on the same page, that may be where some of our problems were, right? People say things, and other people interpret them to be what they wanted to hear. And I love this person I was talking to, but this person does that a lot.
There, those were three better thoughts than the first one.
Bling is one of the smartest men I know, and I know a lot of smart men. He can tell you about every tactical and historical inaccuracy in The 300, and not just because he watched the special on A&E afterwards. He can run down information I didn't even know existed about history, religion, politics, engineering, anything. He can logic around any argument I come up with for anything to the point where my mind actually gets changed. He's a smart boy.
He's also a coke dealer. That's what he does.
I'd love to say that he's a bartender or a professional gambler, because he does those things, too. But his real profession is coke dealer.
And also, before we go on, let me emphasis a coke dealer. Not my coke dealer. I am not doing coke. I know him from the bar where he bartends. It's one of my traditional stops. One of those places where girls and I drink for free and where, on insomnia nights sometimes when nobody is picking up their phone and I need to wonder, I sit and talk to Bling about European history.
And last Friday I sat at that bar for hours talking about Greek history, and boys who hurt your feelings, and what I want out of life and ... coke. Remember the days back in the day where I would have these absurd conversations with people and then share them? Let's do that tonight.
Bling Dude, one thing I know is that when you get my stuff, if it's cut, it's cut with good shit. The (insert name of nationality Bling likes to dog), those fuckers cut their shit with baking soda. BAKING SODA. Why would you put something up your nose with your coke that you know a)clumps and sticks together and b) as you may know from putting it in your freezer is designed to actually kill smells?
Me I have to tell you, I really have no idea.
Bling It's the (insert name of nationality Bling likes to dog). No respect for the customer, right? Why would your customer come back if your product is crap?
Me I think you may be overestimating the ability of the average Vegas tourist who wants to do some coke to, you know, differentiate between product. I'm just saying.
Bling You're probably right.
Me Do you ever worry about getting arrested?
Bling Dudette, we live a block away from a police station. They leave us alone. They know what's going on, but they also know we don't keep guns in that house. They're okay with the dealing as long as there aren't any guns involved.
Me There are so many things in that sentence that cause me pause, but here's one. In my experience with people who deal like you deal, don't you think it's maybe a safer call to have a gun around, you know, for emergency protection?
Bling Here's what I think. I sure as hell am not taking a life over this crap. And if somebody wants to steal my stash, I'll give it up long before guns come out. I can buy more stash. I'm not touching guns.
Me I guess it's really refreshing to hear that. I guess.
Bling All the cops at that station know us. This one time, these stupid (insert name of nationality Bling likes to dog) fuckers tried to steal my car. But the dumb fucks took the keys while they were in the house and then went away for half an hour and then came back for my car. And by that time I had realized they had my mother fucking keys. So when they come back to get the car, roomieA and roomieB go running out of the house with baseball bats. And so I call the cops, you know the ones right down the street who know us, and I'm like "Some motherfucker is stealing my car and my roommates are going after them." And the police were actually like, "You gotta tell us which one is your roommate - what do they look like? We don't want to grab the wrong guy." And I look out the window, and roomieA is beating the SHIT out of that (insert name of nationality Bling likes to dog). And I'm like, "My roommate is the one beating the shit out of the (insert name of nationality Bling likes to dog) with the baseball bat. And the cops came and they ONLY arrested the (insert name of nationality Bling likes to dog). Can you believe that shit?
Me It's hard to believe. It's true. Hard.to.believe.
...Time passes. I'm talking to some woman from Ohio about the tournament. Bling is hanging with Goofy Pill Boy, who is the bartender he works with. They ALWAYS work together. ...
Me Hey, when Goofy Pill Boy wants some coke at work, do you make him pay?
Bling Nah, that would be way non-bro. Anyway, he's a pill popper. So I'm not so into pills, but when he wants some coke I just trade him some pills for some coke and I have this big ass jar of pills from him at home. When I'm bored or stuff, I'll pop one and see what it does.
Me That's, you know, kind of way fucked up, Bling. You know that, right?
Bling Yeah. Hey, people are coming over later to watch Akira on the plasma. Wanna come?
And so, later that morning, I'm over at Bling's watching Akira and I get up to wonder around and there, when I'm nosing through closets, I find the jar of pills. It really does exist. Seriously.
This happened. This is my life. No joke. And I'm kind of thankful that I was there to hear the story without having to actually be part of the story.
Let's Get Back To the Fun With Three Conversations
A Conversation with Ryan
Ry Yadda yadda yadda yap yap yap talking talking talking more talking yadda yadda more talking on and on won't shut up advice on people from RYAN is awesome talking more talking
Me SHUT UP YOU'RE MAKING MY EARS BLEED
A Conversation with Matty
Matty Go Bears! Go Bears! Bears in the Super Bowl!
Me Your quarterback is named Sexy Rex and he can't string two sentences together. But I repeat, your quarterback is named Sexy Rex. Can you really be okay with that?
A Conversation with Hilary Clinton
Me I'm glad you're running. I'm going to bust ass for you.
Hilary It's about healthcare! It's about economy! It's about getting out of Iraq.
Me Really? For me it's just about watching Bill stand behind you and hold his belly while he chuckles.
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