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Thursday, January 2, 2003 Happy New Year to all concerned. I am still figuring out my resolutions, among which I have "learn to play chess" and "wear more thongs". Somewhere in between doth lie "find a new job". And talk more literary and shit. But enough of that. Beagle and I hosted our first Philly house party which ultimately became this tripped-out rave with pacifiers and such. Don't believe it? Okay, this New Years I finally felt like an adult. I had a lot of fun but, sadly, no one threw up. There was much chit-chatting and some rallying attempts at dancing. Using my wily ways of deception, I instructed all party-goers to raise their arms and howl while I took their picture. So at least things appear rather nutty. After most people left, we watched some old pilot Ben Stiller produced with Jack Black and a talking motorcycle named Heat Vision. Hysterical, I say, hysterical. Wednesday, December 18, 2002 Adverse possession: All semester long I've been taking this real estate course at Temple University downtown. I've kept it on the downlow because it sounds weird to most people that I'm studying to become a real estate agent for fun. Maybe it's because both real estate and librarianship are traditionally second careers for most people. I was a librarian at 22 and now a potential seller of property at 27, so there goes some trend bucking. Or perhaps I'm just very mature? An "olde soul", as my fellow library school friends called me? No, the simple truth is that I love to learn (even if I don't remember it later) and enjoy seeing the inside of other people's houses. You're not a peeping Tom if they let you sell their property, you know. (Kidding!) Anyway, the purpose of this whole ramble: I passed my real estate final, and can sit for the state exam, so nice. Also feeling nice tomorrow: the Beagle, who will kick ass on his last law school exam! Wish him luck here; he'll love it. Tuesday, December 17, 2002 Everyone has had a zombie on the bumper: This morning I flushed a comb down the toilet and, realizing the peril of the situation, actually dived in after it. Alas, lost forever. It seemed a fitting start for a day where I also shut off the alarm and slept late. So instead of complaining, I'll just give some broad updates, most pretty happy. Tonight I went to my last Pilates class until January. I've been going 2-3 times a week since September and really feel a difference in my posture, flexibility and strength. Yay for exercise and rolling like a ball.
On Friday night, we went to an art auction at Space1026. I bid on two very nifty pieces, getting into a 'bidding war' at one point. But I persevered and won what I call the "ninja bunny". Beagle pointed out that the subject of the picture, a rabbit, is posed like a Heisman trophy. Anyway, the artist is Ben Woodward and my rabbit looks like this, only more like a bunny. That same night, one of Brian's friends designated a girlfriend of theirs as the "zombie on the bumper" which I learned describes the soon-to-be ex-girl-or-boy friend who keeps hanging on no matter how hard you try to get rid of them. Imagine it: that person you know is just not right for you. Or the one with whom you are currently sleeping with out of boredom. They represent the decrepit zombie. No matter how many donuts you do in the parking lot, that thing won't let go. And just when you let your guard down, and breathe a sigh of relief, you glimpse the zombie's deformed hand reach up for a better hold in your rear-view mirror. Extensive discussion of this led to much pantomiming, especially the rear-view mirror part. Moving onward. My sis and I spent some quality time together on Saturday, laughed ourselves silly over the meaning of "DQ-ologist" and hung out at Ange's with the party peeps. Hi party peeps! On Sunday I listened to This American Life coming back from NY -- stories about "first days". There were some great phrases mentioned, like "grisly squirrel in death throes" and "grapple each other like two circus bears" that kept me laughing. And I bought a 10-foot Christmas tree in the parking lot of the Franklin Mills monstrosity. Oh, I got 4 cavities, which is a first. What can I say: I love Nerds. Does it hurt to have cavities filled? Is Novacaine any fun? These are the questions I leave you with.
Thursday, December 12, 2002 I just got super-tipsy at our company holiday party on apple martinis. At least my chair had the secret post-it note underneath it which meant I won a poinsettia. Or however you spell it. Time for some water. Tuesday, December 10, 2002 Here is a little something for you because at one time you were probably a carnivore too. And I just figured out the answer to "what is Spam?" -- the insides of a hot dog without the protective coating. Gross, but only because it makes hot dogs that must tastier. Thursday, December 5, 2002 Slush day! People in Philadelphia freak out about snow. Today we got sent home early, which we openly mocked by going to the New Deck tavern and drinking at 11 a.m. Then I went to Strawbridges, somewhat stumbly, and bought a sweatsuit for my mom and gold embroidered high heels for myself. Don't ask. Because it is gift hi-jinx season, don't get stuck thinking "she'll love this flick on DVD". (Does anyone even say flick any more?) Buying DVDs are stupid when you have the NetFlix option. It's like the Fruit of the Month, only with movies. Also on the gift list:
Tuesday, December 3, 2002 The Beagle got me the best old-school gift ever: footie pajamas. Remember them? My sister and I had matching pairs for years. I think Beagle is just beginning to realize that his gift has had the effect of a chastity belt, as I haven't taken them off yet. Soon after putting them on, I raced to the second floor and tried to relive my youth by sliding down the stairs, full-throttle. My arse is oh-so-not happy with me right now. Monday, December 2, 2002 Today is my birthday! Happy birthday me! I might look like a mature young person, but I certainly don't feel, gulp, 27. Monday, November 25, 2002 Baby pitas! It has been too long, I know. Last week I journeyed to Fort Lauderdale, home of rich retirees, too many mullets and hobos with year-long tans, with my friend Steph. Besides terrible surf, my rental board became a water-log. It is difficult to ride things that sink. It is nice, however, to sit on a beach in November and comb for seaglass. At one point we found ourselves in a bar singing Cheap Trick songs with the guitarist. Florida brings out the cheese factor, I know. We went to Miami for a day, ate at this excellent Haitian restaurant called Tap Tap and laughed ourselves giddy over K. Thiele's art. I read alot, and then saw 8Mile, which was okay because Eminem didn't have too many lines where he wasn't rapping. I even bought two pairs of boots! In all a good time. Anyway, tonight I share news of my old city, Chicago. Wacker Drive, this very Buck Rogers-esque tunnel underneath the Loop, has been rehabbed and reopened. The first time I drove through lower Wacker I screamed the entire time. It was very dark and winding. No matter how slow you went it still felt too fast! too fast! Very frightening. Friday, November 15, 2002 Well my little pitas, I am off to Fort Lauderdale. My friend S. and I decided a little pre-turkey rest and relaxation was necessary. I'll be back in business next Thursday or Friday though, when real life and pitawriting resume. I normally dislike packing but am getting real pleasure digging out my bathing suit from the back drawer in November. Yay for sun, yay for surf. Sunday, November 3, 2002 Today I heard that song "Forever Young" by Alphaville on the radio. It made me get all emotional in the car -- I actually teared up. Some songs just throw me for a loop. In fact, there are three songs that make me automatically cry. I won't tell you what they are because one time a family member found out one of the songs and would play it repeatedly just to see my sniffly reaction. And then he'd laugh, which is just very mean. I don't need any random people sending me emotion-invoking MP3s. Although if there is a song that gets you choked up, I'd love to know it. Share the pain, man. Thursday, October 31, 2002 Holy hell: Tonight I experienced another reason I love living in a house: the part of a Halloween candy-giver. Growing up on a farm (yes, there are farms in New Jersey) deprived me of the mindless joy one gets handing out packets of Nerds and Runts. Apartment living never brought in the treaters en masse either. So every time the doorbell rang this evening I galloped to the door (really, these boots make me sound rather equine) and practically flung myself at the masked children. So cute! The Beagle drew the line when I tried to take Polaroids of them all. Oh well, you should check out Trailer Ghost where you can hunt down the spirit living in your double-wide. So far that is the best combo I can find being a Halloween-starved farmgirl myself. Monday, October 28, 2002 Falling back in daylight savings is the best because of the extra hour of sleep, which is something I need very badly. This morning I got reamed out by the Condor. It's the worst when your supervisor doesn't tell you that you suck, she makes you feel that way by splitting you open and ridiculing you in front of your colleagues. I'm not going to write about this anymore because I'm getting upset all over again. Sunday, October 27, 2002 "But it's so cheap!: Today I brought Brian to Costco where he discovered the inane pleasures of bulk shopping. Somehow we spent $300 on alot of nothing. Is it ever necessary to own 5 gallons of mayo? Today we walked away with a new spice rack even though we have a perfectly nice one already. While my own consumerism annoys me, the worst part are the other shoppers. They're like freaking hawks for free samples, circling around the retired Costco part-timer manning the microwave. At one point I was legitemately hungry and had my foot run over by a wide-load shopping cart trying to nosedive into some Taquitos. In my frustration, I forgot to get more bulk beef jerky, which you not only get more of, but the pieces of meat are gigantic. Shopping at Costco always reminds me of that episode of Family Guy, where there is a buy-one, get-one-free sale on grand pianos. "Touche Costmart" and adios for now. Saturday, October 26, 2002 Tonight we went to the Brick PlayHouse and watched these goofy Halloween-inspired plays. Then we came home and watched two Buffy the Vampire Slayers from the second season. Now I am tired and must go to bed. Sleep tight, whatever that means. Wednesday, October 23, 2002 This doesn't change my favorite joke: Today, while doing my sorry-ass phone job, I got a call from a "relay center" who acted as an intermediary between me and this deaf woman. The "operator" typed out what I said and then read what this woman wrote back to me -- a pretty nifty use of technology. At some point I asked the customer if she could send me an e-mail and she responded, "I'm deaf, not limbless" which sounded so strange being spoken by our operator, a southern girl. Maybe she meant to be funny, but the sarcasm didn't translate. I guess my naivety reads loud n'clear in text form though. Sunday, October 20, 2002 So I really shouldn't be writing this, as I have a midterm tomorrow but hey, I throw these things windward. Today I went to this nifty little coffee shop called Grinds and Finds (it's on 9th and Bainbridge, for the Phillyites) where I had the most delicious white chocolate hot chocolate. That reads funny, doesn't it? It is also a second-hand boutique and thus not surprising I walked away with a pink n'green mohair scarf. Monday, October 14, 2002 Dum dum da dum: Can you name that tune? Things here in Bridezilla Land have officially heated up, not that you necessarily care or want to know. But hey, I'm engaged to a dreamboy and the pending marriage is a mere 7 monthes away so these things will come out, starting with my plunge into GownLand. The purchasing of a wedding dress is an event and somewhat akin to learning the truth about Santa, balancing your checkbook and losing your virginity -- somewhat expected, kinda important and yet not that big of a deal. The reality of "I'm really getting married" hit me more while standing on the little platformy thing and having the saleslady affix a veil to my ponytail. Eeek! For all of my pooh-poohing about how expensive these dresses are, I made myself really okay with spending $$$ pretty easily when I put a certain frock on. My tough exterior belies the hidden princess, so can I act like a girl now? Yeeeeeps!! It's so pretty!!
Sunday, October 6, 2002 Today I looked at puppies and sneezed: Yesterday I spent some quality time with the 'zill and C looking for wedding dresses, allergy-free. So far I think I have tried on 50 such frocks, ranging in pouf and price from Cinderella with and without slipper. I'm leaning toward the less-formal gown. This too I fear may be as large as our monthly mortgage payment. Are there any brides out there? Can anyone share some insight on how they rationalized spending +$700 on a dress? Especially that you only wear once? And I don't want to hear any cries of "but it's your wedding!" or "you only get married once". There's too much cynicism here for that one. Please extrapolate here. Grooms, boyfriends and ladies-in-waiting are also encouraged to grab el torch and shed some light. Wednesday, October 2, 2002 "Just some rest, love"/"The Horror": Tonight Beagle and I watched yesterday's Buffy. Not only is James Marsters so well cheek-boned but he gave an amazing, inspiring performance -- the scene in the church was unbelievable. If you do not already watch this show, I urge you to start immediately. I could start to describe the scene but it lacks meaning without some healthy vampire context. So if you are easily amused, or the idea of viking cats is appealing, take a gander over here. And since I'm on a Buffy-kick, you can make Buffy swear as well. Jolly good then.
Monday, September 30, 2002 I've taken to wearing my sunglasses on the Market Street line in the morning. Not only does it make my eyes feel better, but it's one of my many top-secret tools of double-oh libgrrl spying action. Also, people tend not to look at you if you look potentially suspicious or hung over. Or if you might be looking straight at them. Sunday, September 29, 2002 Cars, trucks, buses: This weekend was very pleasing. I won a non-sexy date with pillowfort and tried to convince him to watch Buffy. On Friday night I went to Hoboken to visit S. We went out to a BYOB dinner, drank a bottle of red wine and dumpster dived. Nothing is better that other people's thrown-out shit. I found two matching super kitchy metal chandeliers that are white and have cut-out yellow flowers around them. Beagle and I spent Saturday night drinking beer. We went to Monk's, where I splurged and had Lindeman's Cassis beer, which doesn't taste like beer at all, yum. Then we went to the Nodding Head where we had dejavu. We had spent our second New Year's there, very drunk, speaking in an Irish brogue. Sometimes it's better not to ask but I'll tell you anyway. It was right before Beagle moved to Chicago. I had already been in Chicago for 4 monthes at the library and was pretty nervous about living with a boy. We ended up discussing living-together potential and how much fun we'd have. The conversation began like this: "When we get friends . . ." (He didn't know a soul in the city and I'm rather awkward at the making thereof.) "When we get friends, we'll have parties!" "We should have parties and only serve one drink!" For some reason this was hysterically funny. Out comes the accent. In this accent we invite our non-existent friends over and ask them what they'd like to drink. Beer? Oh, no . . . "would you like a ManHATtan?" (Our accent spits the "hat" part of manhattan out like a rawhide dogtoy.)
"Well that's all we've got!" "If you don't want a ManHATtan, then get the fuck out!" "There's the brown line . . . it runs!" Telling our friends to leave in this way seemed much more acceptable while pretending to be wasted and Irish. When we did actually get friends, the idea of the one-drink party fell by the wayside. I don't think I've ever had a Manhattan, either. Thursday, September 26, 2002 Tonight is the perfect evening for sweatpants and a big old hoodie sweatshirt. Wednesday, September 25, 2002 Stop sneezing already: After class on Monday night, the Beagle and I headed over to North Star Bar because Palomar was playing and they're so good and so cute! But they were already on when we got there and suddenly $12 seemed like a lot to pay. Now, however, I'm alittle bummed because I hear that the band they opened for, Spoon, is quite worthwhile. Does anyone have any lendable/burning Spoon? Speaking of burning, I belong to this somewhat eclectic listserv called Typical Girls, which is all about early punk rock ladies, something that expanded my luv for women rockers. A while back they organized a CD exchange. I sent a couple of blank discs to somebody in the group and got back two CDs worth of music -- Edith Nylon, Flying Lizards, Tom Tom Club, Sis Q Lint, Plath, Super Heroines. If anybody wants a copy let me know and maybe we can work something out. Anyway, someone else in the group just sent me more music, some project called Noise Fest (I guess I had sent him blanks as well), totally unexpected. So thanks Dan Selzer from Brooklyn. You have got a great name. You want more?? |
i'm back!