Bravo

I was watching Bravo - as i'm want to do whenever James is out. Anyway, i was thinking, watching gay man after gay man paraded across the screen for my guilty enjoyment, that i miss having gay friends. I don't think a girl is ever as 'girly' as she is with her gay male friends. Not that i'm a girly girl, but now my only outlet is watching reality shows on Bravo.

sigh

coward?

so someone anonymously commented just now on a post i did several months ago.
i'm about to give this person more attention than they deserve.

no he did not, not even a little bit.

I'll not be posting or even reading comments from 'anonymous' from here on out.

Parker Posey is beautiful

i love the way her mouth curls a little when she smiles. I love that, in this movie at least, she doesn't look like she's wearing any make up and i can see freckles and imperfections. i like that her hair sometimes looks horrible. i love that her clothes are fun and not a single piece looks like it came from Banana Republic.

i also happen to think she's a wonderful actress.

That's so ethiopian hyena

I think i've added a new phrase to my lexicon. We just love that, don't we dear reader?

I learned tonight -don't ask where please- that in Ethiopa, people have taken the dangerous and unpredictable hyena under their wing. Hyenas, packs of which have been known to attack humans. The locals bring their butchers scraps to the edge of town, at the end of each day, and feed them to the wild dogs. In this beautiful and unexpected synergy, the dogs get a tasty bite and the people can come face to face with their dangerous, local, and ever present foe, in a fairly safe way. As a result, people become a little less afraid of the beasts, and the dogs more used to people.

As if those results weren't satisfying enough, the people of Ethiopa have gone so far as to cut hyena-sized holes into the walls of their cities. Why would they let those great wild hungry beasts wander freely into their metropoli? Turns out hyenas aren't all that excited about crowds. They only enter the urban areas at night when the streets are free from their daytime inhabitants. What do they get for their endeavors? All the trash they can handle. Ethiopians, like so many other countries residents, don't have the cleanest markets. Their markets need a thorough cleaning at the end of every day and hyenas are only too happy to help out. To be fair, a good scrub probably wouldn't hurt either but dogs can only go so far.

The animal that should be menacing, unapproachable, terrifying, is actually critical to the vibrant life of the ethiopian city. As Louis Armstrong said, what a wonderful world.

Sigh. And baking.

Good afternoon my lovelies. I don't have much to say, other than i'm not dwelling on the hostility expressed in the last entry, lest you all (there're what, three of you?) think that i had nothing better to do. I got my frustration out on my keypad the very next day. One well-crafted, sharp-tongued yet sickeningly sweet email later, and i feel light as air. Carrying around anger like that is only tiring, and i have too much other awesomeness going on.

Like this coming week i have a slew of baking to do, and my dear readers, let me tell you, though tiring, i enjoy it. Hell, if being a chef or baker didn't mean such horrible hours/pay, i'd be back in school in a heartbeat. Well, let's face it, if the market doesn't improve i may get my shot at stove top glory after all.

What's on the menu you ask? Well, my folks are planning on homemade pizza, crabs and some fairly typical BBQ fare over the course of the weekend. We've got a few reasons to celebrate -hence the massive Covati gathering- so i'm planning to make my increasingly popular and eternally infamous Smashcake- this time Version 2.0 -Dark chocolate and orange. Joining my signature pile of sweet happiness in a bowl will be a frozen key lime pie as well as ginger cookies (there are some in the crowd not so keen on chocolate). For breakfast my contribution is maple oat scones that are, as us un-culinarily educated might say pretty damn tasty.

So there you have it. What are we eating in our humble household, did you ask? Well the boy will be having his usual rocks (Science Diet for sensitive tummies) with filtered water and a tantalizing raw hide-&*^%&(*&^)%!!-which he just puked up on my leg. Awesome. Excuse me whilst i clean.

Pardon the interruption.
Eh-hem, now that that unpleasantness is cleaned up. The humans in the apartment will be having an old school taco night. Complete with homemade salsa and frijoles negros - that's black beans to you white boy. ;)

happy eating!

Enough

Ahhh my lovely lovely readers. Just when i think all is well, something goes amiss. When did it go there? I just don't know. And where the hell is amiss exactly? Questions abound.

One day things are great. Then _ ___ ____. Then things weren't great. That middle step is a little amorphous, but that's unimportant. What's important is where we are now -which as you'll note in that first paragraph - is totally lost.

There's really just one question here. Can you stay with someone, forever, if you don't share all the same hobbies? Or, even most of the same hobbies? Yes it's a presumptuous question i know.

What about loving one another? What about thinking your mate is the funniest, smartest person in the room? What about being so proud of that person, so proud that you are with that person? You feel like you make a great team, there's chemistry, as hokey as that sounds. And maybe most importantly, even after years go by, you still can't wait to spend time with that person.

Is that enough? If you want the same things, you have the same values, the same sense of humor... is that enough? i hope so.

Damn you Bravo, damn you

I used to read all the time. I used to blow through several books a month.

I used to listen to classical music.

I used to write fiction.

I used to go on long walks on the trails with my dog and my favorite boy.

I used to get my news from WTOP and NPR.

I used to rent movies with artistic merit. Films no one had heard of with actors who make as much money as me.

And then came Fios. And with it, Bravo.

And i find myself watching The Real Housewives.

Did i mention Top Chef?

Ugh

My dear readers, i apologize for the vague say-nothing of my title.

Here's the thing, my ex is a jerk, and i'm calling him out. I really have tried to be mature and calm. If he could return the favor, that would be nice. I know he was hurt. But he keeps doing things that make me think, hey gentle reader, this guy really is an ass.

He has said the most ridiculous things about me.
I was big and ignored it.
He wouldn't let me have my own possessions after he kicked me out.
I waited.
He hired an expensive lawyer to try to do i don't know what since everyone knows i have no money.
And i got to help pay for that with my no money, which i did.
Now he insists on harassing my family.
What the fuck. Do NOT mess with my family.
And by the way, am i wrong here? But as far as i know, you do not get to be friends with the family of your ex. i don't care who broke it off. Irrelevant. Am i wrong readers?

Now i've not sunk to his level and told his mother or brother or father of his abusive behavior. Of him trying to cost me my job, of his spreading vicious lies about me to anyone who would answer the phone.

I let these things go and what do i get for it?

I get him STILL, a year later, teling me that he is friends with my family, like it or not. No. Unacceptable.

My Salute to Diversity in Hockey or Penguins Fans Need to Grow the F Up

Alright my kiddies, i've a story to tell. (Hold your moaning, i know, i allllways have something to say don't i?)

So in an effort to maintain a sense of camaraderie, peace and love in my apartment -and considering it's entirely inadequate size, this is really less an option than a necessity- i've transformed myself into a Caps fan. My roommate/boyfriend and i are both transplants, he from Pennsylvania, i, from the great and glorious state of Massachusetts.

Being a Massachusetts girl, born and bred, i had to shed my unwavering Bruins heritage and become a Caps fan. Mind you, given they are the two best teams in the Eastern conference, it was no great sacrifice. Plus i get my long awaited Fedorov jersey - a legendary player i've known since writing the numbers of all the Bruins round the rubber trim of my Converse All Stars.

Anyway, the agreement was that i would adopt the Caps. James would learn to love my incredible Red Sox, forgoing his Pirates (our arrangement maintains its win/win status) and on football, we must agree to disagree. I am a Pats fan (hi, Tedy Bruschi anyone?) and he a Steelers fan. With regards to football, our little agreement includes a caveat that while i may love the Patriots, i may not, under any circumstances, love Tom Brady. No problem.

All this being said, i find myself following the Caps rather closely through this post season rally. Through the Rangers series, and now the Penguins. And i have to be honest here -because lets face it, why would you read if i lied? anyone can do that- penguins fans seem fairly immature. I'm going to run with this generalization so bear with me if you're a normal person who enjoys the penguins. On the whole, they whine about every play in which their beloved (and wholly unattractive) Sidney "Face of Hockey" Crosby gets bumped. They b*tch about any episode of Ovechkins spectacular stickwork outshining Sid the Kid or Evegeni Malkin. (Mind you, i fully recognize that both Malkin and Crosby are great players. But i will argue with anyone who says they are the only great players.) Worst of all, they gripe about Ovie because he's not Canadian (and thank goodness for that). Is there a more irritating accent, i ask you? I much prefer his caveman English to the "ays" and "aboots" of the Canadian tongue. Give me Varlamovs almost complete lack of English over the Canadian "sorry" any day. Yech.

But i digress.

Alright, listen up you sissy-babies. Hockey is a cold weather sport. I don't care if hockey was invented in Nova Scotia instead of eastern Europe. You all have sh*tty weather, and now you have a better way to enjoy it than standing on wooden slats skidding down a near vertical slope at break neck speeds. Just be grateful for Christs sake. Why must you curse an extraordinary player just because he's not Canadian? Half the Caps squad isn't Canadian and we couldn't be happier with them (Backstrom, Varlamov and Semin to name just a few).

We as Americans get diversity thrust up our backsides year round, from every direction. While I personally disagree with this policy, there is substance to the basic idea. I believe in promotion based solely on merit - not because your great grandmother on your fathers side was Inuit or you're 1/16th Native American. The American Past Time, baseball, is dominated by Cubans and Dominican Republicans. Do we complain? No. We love our Big Papi, and the game is richer for it. You can't tell me you would enjoy hockey just as much without Pavel Bure, Teemu Selanne or my boy, Sergei Fedorov. Hockey is a great sport, i'm not asking you to say you're sorry for years of obnoxious behavior (in fact, please don't, we all know how pitiful your 'sorry' sounds), just grow up, and move on.

So please, for the sake of hockey fans everywhere, embrace players of every creed. Or at the very least find a more attractive, less whiny bum to be your new Face of the Game.

A Writer

hello my lovely readers.

it's been a while no? Well i wanted to let you know that i have been writing furiously. Not my wonderful blog as my trusted readers know. The writing i've been making aren't ready for public consumption.

soon my lovelies, soon... ;)

D

(And more will come when we get interwebs at home.)

ages

so it's been ages since i wrote. i feel ages older. But i'm not looking back -and perhaps, neither should you.

my predicament now is school and work. It's a combo.
Now, Gentle Reader, you may wonder, what is the problem? You enjoy your job, do you not? You're not in school are you? Right on both counts you most attentive reader.

Sooo without divulging too much information, let's just say that i don't have letters after my name and so i can never be the boss. Proposals won't list me as running the show without a license and "IIDA" on my business cards -though i'm perfectly capable of doing so -and have done in the past.

This, shall we say, perturbs me. To be presented as a CAD monkey, the lowest of the low. To be brought down to the same level as the newbie after 7 years of experience. All this, kind reader, sort of piles up on a gal.

And now you may be asking, why don't you just go out and fetch some letters of your own? To that i say, if only it were that easy. Despite already having 4 years of a 5.5 years master degree, i cannot find a single university in the commonwealth of Virginia or the District of Columbia who are willing to let me finish this degree. One illustrious university who shall remain nameless has graciously decided to consider my FOUR YEARS OF MASTERS DEGREE WORK as a second undergraduate degree. They'll let me take their masters program, of course, in it's entirety, start to finish.

Huh.

Well that's a screamin' good deal and not at all a smack across my academic face. What's worse is if i had another 20K$ hanging about i might consider taking the tossers up on it. I'd throw aside another 2.5 years of my already dominated-by-entirely-too-much-schooling life and finish the fucker.

But i don't have 20K$. I'm still paying off the first four years of masters work.

And so i'm screwed. The only letters i can add will be LEED-AP. Hoopie do. Do any of you (soon to be) faithful readers fail to see the problem inherent in the system? If you have a solution to this most perplexing conundrum i would love to read it.

cheers,
D

sorry

i say this a lot.


i can't possibly be wrong as often as i say it.

good day

i'm so sad that you weren't here with me.

I got to have one of those tough 'you're royally screwing this up' conversations with an engineer. I even got the boss' permission to threaten firing the guy.

For a non-confrontational gal such as myself, these conversations are more than a bit trying.

But you would be proud. I gave him a polite what-for. I didn't back down, i didn't do anything that would make me feel like i needed a shower afterward. I presented my points, sternly but professionally. And his reply - silence. As MB said, you can't defend an argument when there's no argument for your defense.

So there, i had a nice big professional how-do-you-do and i won.

tuesdays

i was told to go drinking tomorrow night.


so i will.

saving me

tonight writing about dead kids and raining in baltimore are saving me. i think i could do this all night.


i might need to

- -

i was trying to sort something out today. something i've been thinking about for quite a while now. often the answer begins with a more well defined query. today i realized something that might just help.

i have been trying to suss out why i get so bored.

i've been bitching and moaning about this terrible ennui which has afflicted every fiber of my being. i like to think i'm a happy person but often i find, not so much. that's not fun. it's not the way to go through life. what if i only get one? i don't want to spend it bored. i want to spend it creative, drunk, in love and crazy. a previous post states my 'make your own happy' motto, if you will. i really do believe this. and of course all that bitching means i'm owning up to the fact that i hadn't sorted that bit out.

still, recognizing what i must do does not explain why i take such issue with boredom. it's should be a non-issue should it not?

but it's not the boredom that i can't bear. it's nothing. it's feeling nothing. it's like feeling pain is preferable to nothing. does that sound like a problem?

and i have an addiction. that first moment. that moment right before the first kiss. the first touch. unknowing hands. butterflies everywhere. just thinking about that... that's all i need. some folks need to jump off a bridge on a bunji, some folks need porn. all i need is that new moment.

maybe it's the butterflies that i am so in love with.

refrigerator poetry

smooth the bitter whisper of death
with the easy language of skin and sweat

morals: friend or foe?

in an effort to prepare for an impending debate, lets discuss society's innate, unspoken, unenforcable (mostly) rules: morals.

Issue #1: Defense for cowardice. This one is fact. but is it the dominant pro argument?

Issue #2: Do unto others. i think this is the one i buy into most. it does make one massive assumption: that others feel the same as i do. If wouldn't want my ass grabbed by some guy, i shouldn't grab some guys ass. Wrong. What is said guy doesn't mind? In fact, he might dig it. hm. at a basic level, this one is true 99% of the time isn't it? i wouldn't like to be stabbed in the back, therefore...

Issue #3: The hereafter. i'm not sure i'm qualified to tackle this one. lots of those same people who dig this item also think that child molester down the street can repent in his last minute and go hang out with my grandma and St. Peter.

Issue #4: Protection. Let me clarify. by that i mean morals are maybe meant to protect you from yourself. quite often, doing whatever one likes, can put one in unfortunate positions

Issue #5: ya hurt the ones you love. morals are supposed to stop that. right?

i'm sure there are more. lemme think about it. anyone else?

you know what's not fun?

it's not fun when you know you're not good at your job.

it's more not fun when you don't particuarly like your job.

luckily for me the better i get at my job, the less i have to do it.

whew.

Track 12, Special Reserve

makes me want to turn up the bass, turn down the lights and light up a joint. And of course, dance real slow.

A sure sign of good tunage is that you can't keep your head/hips still when listening.