Sadly, you can only find this neon-yellow, bubble gum-flavored, carbonated beverage in Peru.
You can see the bottle and read about it (in Spanish) here.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
global soda
Those Mexicans sure know a deal when they see one. After watching four seasons of American Idol, the Aeroporte Internacional de Ciudad de Mexico has, from the looks of it, also become sponsored by Coca Cola.
Not only do they have a Coke cafe, Coke napkins, and Coke posters, but there is also a MUSEUM in the international departure lounge solely dedicated to showcasing the evolution of the ubiquitous Coke bottle.
Not only do they have a Coke cafe, Coke napkins, and Coke posters, but there is also a MUSEUM in the international departure lounge solely dedicated to showcasing the evolution of the ubiquitous Coke bottle.
manzana con sprite
Joy of all joys, I just ordered my first drink in Spanish!!!
"Manzna con Sprite," I say to the flight attendant.
He looks at me funny and repeats, "Manzana con Sprite?"
I nod. He asks if I want ice, but that I totally miss, only nod when he motions to the ice box. Then he asks me to tell him how much manzana to pour, I realize because he is looking at me with eyebrows raised as the juice slooooowly fills the cup. I motion him to stop, he adds the Sprite, and hands over my drink as I proudly declare, "Gracias!"
Internet, yo habla Espanol!
"Manzna con Sprite," I say to the flight attendant.
He looks at me funny and repeats, "Manzana con Sprite?"
I nod. He asks if I want ice, but that I totally miss, only nod when he motions to the ice box. Then he asks me to tell him how much manzana to pour, I realize because he is looking at me with eyebrows raised as the juice slooooowly fills the cup. I motion him to stop, he adds the Sprite, and hands over my drink as I proudly declare, "Gracias!"
Internet, yo habla Espanol!
down, down, down
On the plane, it occurs to me that this is my first time below the equator! I feel as though maybe I have missed out my entire life by never venturing south. I am super excited about this new experience, but begin to wonder... Will I be able to tell? Will I feel it in my body? Will my center of gravity feel differently? Will I be as tall?
Most importantly, will my carabeener compass work???
(This was by far my dumbest moment.)
Most importantly, will my carabeener compass work???
(This was by far my dumbest moment.)
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
I come from good genes
here is an actual email my mother wrote me in college:
EXCITING NEWS FROM THE HI POINT BACK YARD
Lady Changes Basketball Net: "I Did It All By Myself," She Exclaims.
Los Angeles, California: Tuesday, July 10th, Jody Myers of South Carthay changed the basketball hoop net in her cemented backyard all by herself. Distressed at the sight of torn, white polyester shreds of net on the basketball rim, which had been dangling woefully for several months, Myers, 47 (but looking much younger than her years), decided to take matters into her own hands. "I do that a lot," she admitted proudly. It seems that Myers tried to find partners in her enterprise, but failed to gain the assistance of her daughter, 19, who sat helplessly on the nearby steps complaining about her aching legs. Downstairs neighbor Michal Tannenbaum, 12, cheerfully volunteered her aid by poking the rim with a hooked garden tool, but unfortunately, that endeavor proved useless. Myers eventually suspended the new net by climbing onto a ladder.
Lady Changes Basketball Net: "I Did It All By Myself," She Exclaims.
Los Angeles, California: Tuesday, July 10th, Jody Myers of South Carthay changed the basketball hoop net in her cemented backyard all by herself. Distressed at the sight of torn, white polyester shreds of net on the basketball rim, which had been dangling woefully for several months, Myers, 47 (but looking much younger than her years), decided to take matters into her own hands. "I do that a lot," she admitted proudly. It seems that Myers tried to find partners in her enterprise, but failed to gain the assistance of her daughter, 19, who sat helplessly on the nearby steps complaining about her aching legs. Downstairs neighbor Michal Tannenbaum, 12, cheerfully volunteered her aid by poking the rim with a hooked garden tool, but unfortunately, that endeavor proved useless. Myers eventually suspended the new net by climbing onto a ladder.
expensive taste
email from my mother about little brother's 15th birthday
------------------------------
It's Benja's birthday tomorrow. The poor child has school until 4:45, and he's got to study for tests on Wednesday, so our family celebration will be delayed until we can go out on Wednesday night because he thinks eating at home is not sufficient (he inherited that gene from Mother) (actually, we will still have a cake and candles, but he told us "it won't count.") If you can, please call and wish him happy birthday. Also, David and I would appreciate it if you try to convince him that it is not a good idea to pin his hopes on receiving a Honda S-2000 this year. Many thanks,
Jody
------------------------------
It's Benja's birthday tomorrow. The poor child has school until 4:45, and he's got to study for tests on Wednesday, so our family celebration will be delayed until we can go out on Wednesday night because he thinks eating at home is not sufficient (he inherited that gene from Mother) (actually, we will still have a cake and candles, but he told us "it won't count.") If you can, please call and wish him happy birthday. Also, David and I would appreciate it if you try to convince him that it is not a good idea to pin his hopes on receiving a Honda S-2000 this year. Many thanks,
Jody
professors who know
- Quotes of Christina DeMaria Penfield, copied from my notes of SOC/TEP 117: Language, Culture, and Education senior year:
- "When you think about Hernstein & Murray and the evil power, you think of the glowing light of four-oh Kazo."
- explaining a beloved teacher at Bryn Mawr who gave every student an A
- "I was a lawyer, but it was so....mind-numbingly...painful..."
- on her former occupation
- "It would be a sad, sad day if there was no bread at Vons."
- commentary on an IQ test question that asks what you should do if you go to the store to buy bread but there is none.
- "Who decided dinosaurs are for boys and butterflies are for girls??? Someone at the Baby Gap, I think."
- gender socialization
- "It's like if they had a house, and you took over their house, and said, 'OK, now this is my house, and you can live in the bathroom.'"
- explaining Native American "immigration."
- "Everyone melts into what? Velveeta?"
- re: America's "Melting Pot."
- "During the day, you act like Velveeta, but then when you go home, you're...whatever you were...a kidney bean, say."
- accomodation as opposed to assimilation
- "You lose a finger, it's not worth much. I mean, it's worth less than you pay for books for one semester! Like, your left pinky is worth 1200 bucks...I mean, it's sad. You can't buy another one for 1200 bucks."
- on medical malpractice
- "Sometimes the group name are not so innocent, like this groups is the Soaring Eagles, this group is the Brown Birds, and this group is the Swooping Vultures."
- elementary grade ability grouping, and why kids can always figure out if they are the "smart" kids or the "not-so-smart" kids.
- "I can't tell you how many papers I still have. I mean, we say we throw them away, but really, they're in my house."
- on old final papers
large nostrils
My mom calls tonight and leaves the following message:
"Hi, it´s your mother. I was going through my index cards tonight -- you know the ones I pass out to students on the first day of class to find out their name, major, that stuff. Listen to this. This one guy writes, in response to 'What is something unique about you?' He writes, 'I can stick one dollar and forty cents up my nose -- two quarters and two dimes in each nostril.'"
My first thought is, WHEN CAN I MEET HIM?!?
"Hi, it´s your mother. I was going through my index cards tonight -- you know the ones I pass out to students on the first day of class to find out their name, major, that stuff. Listen to this. This one guy writes, in response to 'What is something unique about you?' He writes, 'I can stick one dollar and forty cents up my nose -- two quarters and two dimes in each nostril.'"
My first thought is, WHEN CAN I MEET HIM?!?
Monday, August 29, 2005
new best friend
There are four websites that I check RELIGIOUSLY. Dooce, Post-Grad Nothing, Fug, and Junk-Feud. Dooce is the mama out in Utah who talks about poop, Fug is celebrities with really bad clothes, Junk-Feud is page six trash, and Tales of a Post-Grad Nothing is MY NEW BEST FRIEND. Witness:
- Almost daily descriptions of complete breakdown of brain activity when trying to speak foreign language
- Constructed amazing pie chart calculating recipients of sex in the city of Love
- She reads Maddox, Dooce, and George!
- SHE KNOWS WHO THE ICY HOT STUNTAZ ARE!!!!!
I no speaking espanish
Inspired by Nathan's experiences in Peru, today, in my head, I figured out what I would do if my Visa card got stuck in the ATM. Since I only know six words in Spanish, my imaginary encounter with the Peruvian banker was quite a feat. It went like this:
--------------------------------
me: Pardon? No hablo Espanol. Uno mimento?
banker: Looks up at the dumb American girl
me: Me gusta dinero. Dinero automati -- (here I ouline the square shape of the ATM screen). Yo -- (mime walking up to it, sticking my card in, pressing numbers.)
banker: Blank, indescernable gaze
me: Yo quiera mucho dinero. Sol. [That's the name of the Peruvian money.] (mime pressing buttons. Stand there, as if waiting for my money. Tilt head ever so slightly, as if still waiting for my money but slightly confused as to where it is.) Donde dinero? Donde? No dinero! Yo -- (point to self, then mime looking at my watch and tapping it, then glaring at ATM screen) Donde dinero??? No dinero!
--------------------------------
I hope you realize that only half of the "Spanish" words I used are real. In order to get the real gist of my daydream, you have to imagine me using big, swooping, exaggerated hand movements. Wide enough that Wade, standing to my left (again, IN MY HEAD), has to take a few steps back to avoid being hit. Thanks, American Sign Language, for teaching me to visually set up a scene using just my hands and body.
I realize now I am the biggest dork, not because I don't know Spanish, but because I had this entire conversation IN MY MIND.
--------------------------------
me: Pardon? No hablo Espanol. Uno mimento?
banker: Looks up at the dumb American girl
me: Me gusta dinero. Dinero automati -- (here I ouline the square shape of the ATM screen). Yo -- (mime walking up to it, sticking my card in, pressing numbers.)
banker: Blank, indescernable gaze
me: Yo quiera mucho dinero. Sol. [That's the name of the Peruvian money.] (mime pressing buttons. Stand there, as if waiting for my money. Tilt head ever so slightly, as if still waiting for my money but slightly confused as to where it is.) Donde dinero? Donde? No dinero! Yo -- (point to self, then mime looking at my watch and tapping it, then glaring at ATM screen) Donde dinero??? No dinero!
--------------------------------
I hope you realize that only half of the "Spanish" words I used are real. In order to get the real gist of my daydream, you have to imagine me using big, swooping, exaggerated hand movements. Wide enough that Wade, standing to my left (again, IN MY HEAD), has to take a few steps back to avoid being hit. Thanks, American Sign Language, for teaching me to visually set up a scene using just my hands and body.
I realize now I am the biggest dork, not because I don't know Spanish, but because I had this entire conversation IN MY MIND.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
the hobotraveler
The American investment banker was at the pier of a small
coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one
fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several
large yellow fin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican
on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.
The Mexican replied, "Only a little while".
The American then asked why didn't he stay out longer
and catch more fish? The Mexican said he had enough to
support his family's immediate needs. The American then
asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"
The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little,
play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria,
stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and
play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life."
The American scoffed, "I am a Harvard MBA and
could help you. You should spend more time fishing
and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. With the
proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several
boats, and eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats.
Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would
sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your
own cannery. You would control the product, processing
and distribution.
You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village
and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles, and eventually
New York City, where you will run your expanding enterprise.
" The Mexican fisherman asked, "But, how long will this all take?"
To which the American replied, "15-20 years."
"But what then?"
The American laughed and said, "That's the best part.
When the time is right you would announce an IPO and
sell your company stock to the public and become very rich,
you would make millions."
"Millions.. Then what?"
The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to a small
coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little,
play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village
in the evenings where you could sip wine
and play your guitar with your amigos."
(I stole this from Nathan who stole it from some other guy.)
coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one
fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several
large yellow fin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican
on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.
The Mexican replied, "Only a little while".
The American then asked why didn't he stay out longer
and catch more fish? The Mexican said he had enough to
support his family's immediate needs. The American then
asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"
The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little,
play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria,
stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and
play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life."
The American scoffed, "I am a Harvard MBA and
could help you. You should spend more time fishing
and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. With the
proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several
boats, and eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats.
Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would
sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your
own cannery. You would control the product, processing
and distribution.
You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village
and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles, and eventually
New York City, where you will run your expanding enterprise.
" The Mexican fisherman asked, "But, how long will this all take?"
To which the American replied, "15-20 years."
"But what then?"
The American laughed and said, "That's the best part.
When the time is right you would announce an IPO and
sell your company stock to the public and become very rich,
you would make millions."
"Millions.. Then what?"
The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to a small
coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little,
play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village
in the evenings where you could sip wine
and play your guitar with your amigos."
(I stole this from Nathan who stole it from some other guy.)
Saturday, August 27, 2005
I can't help that I have Baltic blood
I applied fake-tanner today and plan to do a second coat on Tuesday. That way, I will be TAN TAN TAN and my Peru pics will look like normal vacation pictures in reverse: starts out really kissed by the sun, ends up pasty.
elephants upstairs
I just had to go upstairs THREE TIMES in the space of FOUR MINUTES to tell them, IN INCREASINGLY MORE HYSTERICAL TONES, TO STOP FUCKING BANGING ON THE TABLE!!!!!!!!!!
What the hell is their problem? I would be EMBARRASSED if I had company and a neighbor told me I was too loud. I would be even more embarrassed the second time she had to come upstairs and tell the daughter, who yelled to the whole room, STOP BANGING. And if I were a guest, it would definitely not take THREE FUCKING TIMES before I was ashamed of my behavior and started thinking about the nice girl downstairs who just wants a peaceful Saturday.
They are clearly fucking stupid and disrespectful, for we have been giving them the same message for FOUR MONTHS.
If this continues past October, I am seriously going to move.
What the hell is their problem? I would be EMBARRASSED if I had company and a neighbor told me I was too loud. I would be even more embarrassed the second time she had to come upstairs and tell the daughter, who yelled to the whole room, STOP BANGING. And if I were a guest, it would definitely not take THREE FUCKING TIMES before I was ashamed of my behavior and started thinking about the nice girl downstairs who just wants a peaceful Saturday.
They are clearly fucking stupid and disrespectful, for we have been giving them the same message for FOUR MONTHS.
If this continues past October, I am seriously going to move.
movie book magazine music website list
a short list of all the stories (books, movies, etc) I've enjoyed (newly) this summer...
- Mememto
- The Tipping Point
- Harry Potter five
- Harry Potter six
- Be Quick-- But Don't Hurry
- PERU--Lonely Planet
- X&Y Coldplay
- Stand Up Dave Matthews
- Keane
- Scarlet's Walk Tori Amos
- Queer as Folk (only season one disks one and two so far)
- The OC season one
- National Geographic, July and August
- JANE magazine, June, July, August, September
- MAXIM, June, July, haven't gotten to August and September
- ELLE, June, July, August, September
- The Sun magazine, June, July, Augus, September
- Assorted Cosmos, Marie Claire, etc at home and in doctors' offices
- Magical Thinking by Augusten Burroughs (on CD)
- Shadow of the Dolls audiotapes one, two, and three
- Clueless
- Bring it On
- parts of Team America
- Love Actually
- Secretary
- Nico and Dani
- Spanglish
- The Notebook
- Friday
- Blow
- The Upside of Anger
- Wedding Crashers
- The Big Chill
- Reno 911, season one
- Eddie Izzard, Circle
- Eddie Izzard, Dressed to Kill (much better than Circle)
- The Dangerous Lives of Alter Boys
- Welcome to the Dollhouse
- Monsoon Wedding
- Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
- Memoirs of a Geisha by Alan Golding
- Muriel's Wedding
- Il Postino
- Empire of the Sun
- Sex and Lucia
- Belle Epoque
- Yossi and Jagger
- The Chorus
- The Remains of the Day
- Dooce.com everysingleday
- PostGradNothing everysingleday
- Fug everysingleday
- Junk-Feud everysingleday
- Boing Boing occasionally
- McSweeneys occasionally
Thursday, August 25, 2005
automatic toilets
And then we got into a debate about whether or not those awful fucking automatic flushing toilets are any good, and of course they aren’t! I can flush my own goddamn toilet THANK YOU VERY MUCH. They always go off in the middle of a pee session because the sensors are always messed up, so everybody waiting in line thinks you’re in there dropping WHO KNOWS WHAT into the toilet because it keeps going off and off. OR WORSE! The sensor never goes off and you’re doing everything you can to get it to go off, even getting on your knees and begging the toilet to PLEASE JUST FLUSH, but it won’t so you have to leave the stall with your belongings left behind.
From my favorite girl, I'm Heather B. Armstrong and This is My Website
From my favorite girl, I'm Heather B. Armstrong and This is My Website
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
shabbat club
- Shabbat Club (SC) is a rotational potluck Friday night dinner club.
- SC meets every other week. Holidays and breaks are up for discussion.
- N.A. and A.A. are the SC Chairpeople.
- SC is members-only, with exceptional "Invite Everyone You Know" dinners. Members are chosen by Chairpeople. Members of SC must be willing to host a future SC. Chairpeople will assign hosting rotation dates. Hosts can trade dates with one another.
- Roommats of hosts can come to SC when SC is at their house.
- Hosts are responsible for setting a theme, creating and sending Evite/email to members, preparing the main course(s), and coordinating other potluck duties (salads, desserts, drinks, etc) to other SC members. Optional: Hosts can also plan after-dinner activities, such as party games, crafts, or movies, that may or may not go along with the theme.
- SC traditions, songs, logos, Tshirts, etc will be chosen by Chairpeople at a later date.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
I might be crazy but at least I don't smell
Am I nuts, or am I just really smart?
My favorite deoderant flavor, Lady Speed Stick Invisible Dry Fresh Peach, has been discontinued. Last year I suspected as much, but found reserves at the Ojai Rite-Aid and Beverwil Longs. This past week I have been to Target, Rite-Aid, Longs, and Ralphs, but no Fresh Peach. I checked Mennen's website, and no Fresh Peach listed as one of their products.
So then I Googled my Fresh Peach and found some medical supplies website selling it. Since the site was associated with Yahoo, I decided it was legit and ordered.
I ordered ten tubes, because you never know, maybe medical supply website will run out.
That should last me until December 2007.
My favorite deoderant flavor, Lady Speed Stick Invisible Dry Fresh Peach, has been discontinued. Last year I suspected as much, but found reserves at the Ojai Rite-Aid and Beverwil Longs. This past week I have been to Target, Rite-Aid, Longs, and Ralphs, but no Fresh Peach. I checked Mennen's website, and no Fresh Peach listed as one of their products.
So then I Googled my Fresh Peach and found some medical supplies website selling it. Since the site was associated with Yahoo, I decided it was legit and ordered.
I ordered ten tubes, because you never know, maybe medical supply website will run out.
That should last me until December 2007.
new peru itinerary
Sept 1 arrive, change plane ticket, taxi to hostel, sleep, Wade come, museums, post office
Sept 2 Pisco/Paracas and wild animals
Sept 3 Ica/Huacachina, sand boarding
Sept 4 Nazca, night bus to Arequipa (do we need to go to Nazca?)
Sept 5 Arequipa, monastary, frozen ice princess, churches, Canon del Colca trek
Sept 6 Canon del Colca, bus to Puno
Sept 7 Lake Titicaca, islands, sleep over on islands?
Sept 8 bus to Cuzco
Sept 9 trek?
Sept 10 trek?
Sept 11 trek?
Sept 12 trek?
Sept 13 trek?
Sept 14 (If no ticket, plane to Lima in morning. If new ticket, stay in Cuzco another day)
Sept 15 Lima? north coast?
Sept 16
Sept 17
Sept 18
Sept 19
Sept 20
Sept 21
Sept 2 Pisco/Paracas and wild animals
Sept 3 Ica/Huacachina, sand boarding
Sept 4 Nazca, night bus to Arequipa (do we need to go to Nazca?)
Sept 5 Arequipa, monastary, frozen ice princess, churches, Canon del Colca trek
Sept 6 Canon del Colca, bus to Puno
Sept 7 Lake Titicaca, islands, sleep over on islands?
Sept 8 bus to Cuzco
Sept 9 trek?
Sept 10 trek?
Sept 11 trek?
Sept 12 trek?
Sept 13 trek?
Sept 14 (If no ticket, plane to Lima in morning. If new ticket, stay in Cuzco another day)
Sept 15 Lima? north coast?
Sept 16
Sept 17
Sept 18
Sept 19
Sept 20
Sept 21
Monday, August 22, 2005
the hot doc
Today, while in line at Washington Mutual, Best Bank Ever, I fell in lust.
I have never had such a crush on a stranger that I am still thinking about him eight hours later. This guy was tall, about six feet, and I could tell he was in shape. Why? He was wearing scrubs. Oooh, blue scrubs. The shirt and the pants. Scrub material is very thin, you know. Shows the bod off nicely.
Thick brown hair, bright brown eyes.
He kept turning around and looking at something (me? Is he looking at me?) and I would have to yank my eyes away from his butt and pretend I was gazing at the Interested in a Home Loan? ads.
He was really young. At first I thought he was my age, but that wouldn't give him enough time to do medical school. So I'm guessing late twenties. He took out his wallet and his card and put his wallet back into the butt pocket of his scrubs, at where I was actually STARING.
My god, I have to marry this man.
As I walked out of the bank, I noticed Doctor getting into his blue BMW convertable. I was imagining the kind of doctoress life I could lead as he pulled away.
I have never had such a crush on a stranger that I am still thinking about him eight hours later. This guy was tall, about six feet, and I could tell he was in shape. Why? He was wearing scrubs. Oooh, blue scrubs. The shirt and the pants. Scrub material is very thin, you know. Shows the bod off nicely.
Thick brown hair, bright brown eyes.
He kept turning around and looking at something (me? Is he looking at me?) and I would have to yank my eyes away from his butt and pretend I was gazing at the Interested in a Home Loan? ads.
He was really young. At first I thought he was my age, but that wouldn't give him enough time to do medical school. So I'm guessing late twenties. He took out his wallet and his card and put his wallet back into the butt pocket of his scrubs, at where I was actually STARING.
My god, I have to marry this man.
As I walked out of the bank, I noticed Doctor getting into his blue BMW convertable. I was imagining the kind of doctoress life I could lead as he pulled away.
the shirt story
The other day I came home to find sublet roommate Alyssa walking around the apartment. She was wearing this cute grape-purple cap-sleeved shirt, tight, and it looked exactly like one I have. I immediately chirped, "Oh! I totally have the same shirt!" She was all, "Really?" I responded, "Yeah, that's so weird. Mine is from Forever 21." (btw, Forever 21 is my favorite store ever.) Alyssa responded quickly, "Oh, that's so weird. This is from Abercrombie. I didn't think they would sell the same thing." So then I went to my closet to find the purple shirt and show it to her.
It wasn't in my closet. The folded-up clothes part. So I checked the hall closet, where all my hanger-clothes are. It wasn't there, either. Then I searched through the clothes pile on my desk chair and on the papason. Not there either. It wasn't on the floor, and actually, I realized that I hadn't worn it in a while. And, on a side note, Alyssa is a much bigger girl than I am, and the shirt she was wearing was TIGHT.
Hmmmm. The wheels in my head started turning. I faked a nonchalant voice and said that I couldn't find it, oh well, maybe it was dirty.
That night Alyssa went out to a bar in a different outfit. I peeked into her room and saw the Shirt lying folded on the bed. I checked the tag and SURE ENOUGH it sported a pink XXI. This was TOTALLY my shirt. Only, what to do?
I thought at first I would wait and see what Alyssa did. I outlined several possibilities.
Well, I waited two days and none of these options played out. What actually happened I still can't believe. I came home late one night as Alyssa was talking on her cell in the driveway. As I got out of the car and started towards our walkway, I caught a glimpse of her just as she turned away and ran to our apt. SHE WAS TOTALLY WEARING THE SHIRT. And....was this my imagination, or was she...running...away from me?
When I walking into the apt, Alyssa was standing in the living room, breathless, babbling about seeing me but then not knowing it was me and giving directions to someone and trying to find a parking place, blah blah. I had to admit to myself that she wasn't running away from me, because why would she wait in the living room? (But then later I convinced myself that she was, in fact, running away from me but was just a really bad hider.) I didn't mention the shirt. She went out. BITCH. I so totally don't care about people borrowing my clothes, even if they don't ask me first. But taking a shirt off my shelf and lying about it? AND THEN WEARING IT AGAIN!?!?!?! The sad, sad, realization struck me that maybe Alyssa did not intend to return the Shirt.
The next day while she was at work I stole into her room (pun intended), picked the Shirt up off the floor, and shoved it into the bottom of my hamper. Aint' nobody stealing my clothes.
It wasn't in my closet. The folded-up clothes part. So I checked the hall closet, where all my hanger-clothes are. It wasn't there, either. Then I searched through the clothes pile on my desk chair and on the papason. Not there either. It wasn't on the floor, and actually, I realized that I hadn't worn it in a while. And, on a side note, Alyssa is a much bigger girl than I am, and the shirt she was wearing was TIGHT.
Hmmmm. The wheels in my head started turning. I faked a nonchalant voice and said that I couldn't find it, oh well, maybe it was dirty.
That night Alyssa went out to a bar in a different outfit. I peeked into her room and saw the Shirt lying folded on the bed. I checked the tag and SURE ENOUGH it sported a pink XXI. This was TOTALLY my shirt. Only, what to do?
I thought at first I would wait and see what Alyssa did. I outlined several possibilities.
- If she thought that I believed her, that I really thought my shirt was dirty and the shirt on the bed was her shirt, maybe she would try to sneak the shirt back to my closet or my chair or my hamper without mentioning it, to save face or something. Then I would have my shirt back and I wouldn't have to say anything. This was the ideal course of events.
- If she decided to play innocent, that it was on Abbey's shelf and she thought it was hers because she has the same one but she realized that it's mine, so here, sorry. (For a day I thought that maybe I had lent the shirt to Abbey and it was left on Abbey's shelf in the closet and Alyssa took it off the shelf either thinking it was hers or thinking no one would notice if she wore Abbey's clothing. I called Abbey, who had no recolection of ever borrowing the Shirt.)
- If she decided to fess up and just return the shirt.
Well, I waited two days and none of these options played out. What actually happened I still can't believe. I came home late one night as Alyssa was talking on her cell in the driveway. As I got out of the car and started towards our walkway, I caught a glimpse of her just as she turned away and ran to our apt. SHE WAS TOTALLY WEARING THE SHIRT. And....was this my imagination, or was she...running...away from me?
When I walking into the apt, Alyssa was standing in the living room, breathless, babbling about seeing me but then not knowing it was me and giving directions to someone and trying to find a parking place, blah blah. I had to admit to myself that she wasn't running away from me, because why would she wait in the living room? (But then later I convinced myself that she was, in fact, running away from me but was just a really bad hider.) I didn't mention the shirt. She went out. BITCH. I so totally don't care about people borrowing my clothes, even if they don't ask me first. But taking a shirt off my shelf and lying about it? AND THEN WEARING IT AGAIN!?!?!?! The sad, sad, realization struck me that maybe Alyssa did not intend to return the Shirt.
The next day while she was at work I stole into her room (pun intended), picked the Shirt up off the floor, and shoved it into the bottom of my hamper. Aint' nobody stealing my clothes.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Aaron
I'm glad that when Aaron came back he looked exactly the same as when he left. I don't like this growing-up-while-I'm-absent thing that happened when I went to college.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
the blues. I wish I wrote this.
1. Most Blues begin, "Woke up this mornin’."
2. " I got a good woman" is a bad way to begin the Blues, 'less you stick something nasty in the next line, like " I got a good woman, with the meanest face in town."
3. The Blues is simple. After you get the first line right, repeat it. Then find something that rhymes ... sort of: "Got a good woman - with the meanest face in town. Got teeth like Margaret Thatcher - and she weigh 500 pound."
4. The Blues are not about choice. You stuck in a ditch, you stuck in ditch; ain't no way out.
5. Blues cars: Chevys and Cadillacs and broken-down trucks. Blues don't travel in Volvos, BMWs, or Sport Utility Vehicles. Most Blues transportation is a Greyhound bus or a southbound
train. Jet aircraft an' state-sponsored motor pools ain't even in the running. Walkin' plays a major part in the blues lifestyle. So does fixin' to die.
6. Teenagers can't sing the Blues. They ain't fixin' to die yet. Adults sing the Blues. In Blues, " adulthood" means being old enough to get the electric chair if you shoot a man in Memphis.
7. Blues can take place in New York City but not in Hawaii or any place in Canada. Hard times in St. Paul or Tucson is just depression. Chicago, St. Louis, and Kansas City still the best places to have the Blues. You cannot have the blues in any place that don't get rain.
8. A man with male pattern baldness ain't the blues. A woman with male pattern baldness is. Breaking your leg cuz you skiing is not the blues. Breaking your leg cuz an alligator be chomping on it is.
9. You can't have no Blues in an office or a shopping mall. The lighting is wrong. Go outside to the parking lot or sit by the dumpster.
10. Good places for the Blues:
a. highway
b. jailhouse
c. empty bed
d. bottom of a whiskey glass
Bad places:
a. Ashrams
b. gallery openings
c. Ivy League institutions
d.. golf courses
11. No one will believe it's the Blues if you wear a suit, 'less you happen to be an old ethnic person, and you slept in it.
12. Do you have the right to sing the Blues?
Yes, if:
a. you're older than dirt
b. you're blind
c. you shot a man in Memphis
d. you can't be satisfied
No, if:
a. you have all your teeth
b. you were once blind but now can see
c. the man in Memphis lived.
d. you have a retirement plan or trust fund.
13. Blues is not a matter of color. It's a matter of bad luck. Tiger Woods cannot sing the blues. Gary Coleman could. Ugly white people also got a leg up on the blues.
14. If you ask for water and Baby give you gasoline, it's the Blues. Other acceptable Blues beverages are:
a. wine
b. whiskey or bourbon
c. muddy water
d. black coffee
The following are NOT Blues beverages:
a. mixed drinks
b. kosher wine
c. Snapple
d. sparkling water
15. If it occurs in a cheap motel or a shotgun shack, it's a Blues death. Stabbed in the back by a jealous lover is another Blues way to die. So is the electric chair, substance abuse, and dying lonely on a broken down cot. You can't have a Blues death if you die during a tennis match or getting liposuction.
16. Some Blues names for women:
a. Sadie
b. Big Mama
c. Bessie
d. Fat River Dumpling
17. Some Blues names for men:
a. Joe
b. Willie
c. Little Willie
d. Big Willie
18. Persons with names like Sierra, Sequoia, Auburn, and Rainbow can't sing the Blues no matter how many men they shoot in Memphis.
19. Make your own Blues name (starter kit):
a. name of physical infirmity (Blind, Cripple, Lame, etc.)
b. first name (see above) plus name of fruit (Lemon, Lime, Kiwi,etc.)
c. last name of President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore, etc.)
For example, Blind Lime Jefferson, or Cripple Kiwi Fillmore, etc. (Well, maybe not "Kiwi.")
20. I don't care how tragic your life: you own a computer, you cannot sing the blues. You best destroy it. Fire, a spilled bottle of Mad Dog, or get out a shotgun. Maybe your big woman just done sat on it. I don't care.
2. " I got a good woman" is a bad way to begin the Blues, 'less you stick something nasty in the next line, like " I got a good woman, with the meanest face in town."
3. The Blues is simple. After you get the first line right, repeat it. Then find something that rhymes ... sort of: "Got a good woman - with the meanest face in town. Got teeth like Margaret Thatcher - and she weigh 500 pound."
4. The Blues are not about choice. You stuck in a ditch, you stuck in ditch; ain't no way out.
5. Blues cars: Chevys and Cadillacs and broken-down trucks. Blues don't travel in Volvos, BMWs, or Sport Utility Vehicles. Most Blues transportation is a Greyhound bus or a southbound
train. Jet aircraft an' state-sponsored motor pools ain't even in the running. Walkin' plays a major part in the blues lifestyle. So does fixin' to die.
6. Teenagers can't sing the Blues. They ain't fixin' to die yet. Adults sing the Blues. In Blues, " adulthood" means being old enough to get the electric chair if you shoot a man in Memphis.
7. Blues can take place in New York City but not in Hawaii or any place in Canada. Hard times in St. Paul or Tucson is just depression. Chicago, St. Louis, and Kansas City still the best places to have the Blues. You cannot have the blues in any place that don't get rain.
8. A man with male pattern baldness ain't the blues. A woman with male pattern baldness is. Breaking your leg cuz you skiing is not the blues. Breaking your leg cuz an alligator be chomping on it is.
9. You can't have no Blues in an office or a shopping mall. The lighting is wrong. Go outside to the parking lot or sit by the dumpster.
10. Good places for the Blues:
a. highway
b. jailhouse
c. empty bed
d. bottom of a whiskey glass
Bad places:
a. Ashrams
b. gallery openings
c. Ivy League institutions
d.. golf courses
11. No one will believe it's the Blues if you wear a suit, 'less you happen to be an old ethnic person, and you slept in it.
12. Do you have the right to sing the Blues?
Yes, if:
a. you're older than dirt
b. you're blind
c. you shot a man in Memphis
d. you can't be satisfied
No, if:
a. you have all your teeth
b. you were once blind but now can see
c. the man in Memphis lived.
d. you have a retirement plan or trust fund.
13. Blues is not a matter of color. It's a matter of bad luck. Tiger Woods cannot sing the blues. Gary Coleman could. Ugly white people also got a leg up on the blues.
14. If you ask for water and Baby give you gasoline, it's the Blues. Other acceptable Blues beverages are:
a. wine
b. whiskey or bourbon
c. muddy water
d. black coffee
The following are NOT Blues beverages:
a. mixed drinks
b. kosher wine
c. Snapple
d. sparkling water
15. If it occurs in a cheap motel or a shotgun shack, it's a Blues death. Stabbed in the back by a jealous lover is another Blues way to die. So is the electric chair, substance abuse, and dying lonely on a broken down cot. You can't have a Blues death if you die during a tennis match or getting liposuction.
16. Some Blues names for women:
a. Sadie
b. Big Mama
c. Bessie
d. Fat River Dumpling
17. Some Blues names for men:
a. Joe
b. Willie
c. Little Willie
d. Big Willie
18. Persons with names like Sierra, Sequoia, Auburn, and Rainbow can't sing the Blues no matter how many men they shoot in Memphis.
19. Make your own Blues name (starter kit):
a. name of physical infirmity (Blind, Cripple, Lame, etc.)
b. first name (see above) plus name of fruit (Lemon, Lime, Kiwi,etc.)
c. last name of President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore, etc.)
For example, Blind Lime Jefferson, or Cripple Kiwi Fillmore, etc. (Well, maybe not "Kiwi.")
20. I don't care how tragic your life: you own a computer, you cannot sing the blues. You best destroy it. Fire, a spilled bottle of Mad Dog, or get out a shotgun. Maybe your big woman just done sat on it. I don't care.
carded
A few days ago, I went to see Wedding Crashers with Hillary on her day off. I walked up with her to the ticket booth, and she pulled out her JTS student card to get the lower price. I remarked to her that I couldn't get my new UCLA card in time to take it to Peru and get all the student discounts. Then I was called to the next ticket counter.
I asked for one ticket to Wedding Crashers at such-and-such time, and the woman asked me for my ID. I didn't remember asking for the student price, but I might have, so I said that I didn't have one yet. Only, I didn't just say it, I sort of whined it. I was thinking, I didn't intend to get the student discount, but if I can get it, GREAT! But the woman looked at me sternly and said that she couldn't give me a ticket if I didn't have an ID. I didn't understand-- why couldn't I just pay the regular price? She restated that she needed a photo ID in order to sell me a ticket. I suddenly realized that she meant my DRIVERS' LICENSE, to show that I was old enough to see a rated-R movie. Embarrassed, I pulled it out.
Only later, when sitting in the theatre, did I realize that I was carded. I am totally used to being carded for alcohol. Twenty-three can look a lot like twenty. But a MOVIE!??! She thought I looked younger than SEVENTEEN?!? Wow.
I asked for one ticket to Wedding Crashers at such-and-such time, and the woman asked me for my ID. I didn't remember asking for the student price, but I might have, so I said that I didn't have one yet. Only, I didn't just say it, I sort of whined it. I was thinking, I didn't intend to get the student discount, but if I can get it, GREAT! But the woman looked at me sternly and said that she couldn't give me a ticket if I didn't have an ID. I didn't understand-- why couldn't I just pay the regular price? She restated that she needed a photo ID in order to sell me a ticket. I suddenly realized that she meant my DRIVERS' LICENSE, to show that I was old enough to see a rated-R movie. Embarrassed, I pulled it out.
Only later, when sitting in the theatre, did I realize that I was carded. I am totally used to being carded for alcohol. Twenty-three can look a lot like twenty. But a MOVIE!??! She thought I looked younger than SEVENTEEN?!? Wow.
happy
Right now I'm in one of those periods in the week where I feel truly content and happy with my life. Every few days I get this feeling, but it never lasts longer than a day. And then some shit happens that ruins it. So let me capture all that is good right now, right here.
- I just finished reading the fifth Harry Potter book and am now ready to read the sixth. I love Harry Potter. I love that I allow myself time to read. I love that books can make me happy. I love that I can spend a whole day on the couch with a book and still feel like the day was worthwhile, because I was living out someone else's story. I love that I am well-read and that usually I have read or at least heard of the books other people are reading.
- Younger brother Aaron just returned from Israel on his six-week USY trip and now we can play again! I love Aaron. I would love to take him on a California road trip slash college tour this year. And he got me a huge package of strawberry mentos for me. I love that I have a brother who I can really have fun with. And even the guilt over not having the same relationship with Benja has recently changed, because it's OK. My brothers are different people.
- Have I mentioned I am going to Peru? I love traveling. I love that I have found something I can be passionate about, something to put free time and free energy and extra money into.
- Feeling good about my body. I love my body right now. I've been going to the gym a few times a week (I say that I'm going daily but honestly, whatever) and doing cardio for thirty minutes and then stretching and sit-ups for twenty minutes. I love that I can run a mile. I love that I can "hike" a mile at a fast pace. I love that feeling I get after ten minutes when I just want to keep pushing myself. I love the fact that recently I have responded to the feeling and pushed and pushed and pushed. And I love the feeling after a work-out when the endorphine is flowing and I am so proud that I lasted.
- I love self-tanner. Being tan just makes me feel more attractive. But since I am fair, it's always been a real challenge, and a real burden of guilt to acheive darkness. Now I can fake-tan lotion up, get tan, and then put on as much sunscreen as I want.
- I love movies. I love that I make time to watch movies. I love that I am fairly movie-literate.
- I have some really good friends. Nicole called me this morning and exclaimed how much she appreciated me, and that made me feel really good. Knowing that I can be a really good friend. Knowing that the time I took to make her birthday present was worth it, and I enjoyed doing it for her. I know I am not always punctual with presents, and sometimes even don't do them altogether, but when I really think and figure out the perfect thing, it makes me happy that I know.
- I love that I love music, and that I know a lot of music, and that I keep finding new music. I love that I can put together a kick-ass mix-CD, and that I can introduce people to new music I know they will like.
- I'm good with clothes. I just bought new velour loungy pants in grayish and brown. They are wonderful. They look good on me. They were only thirteen dollars. I've been wearing the gray ones for three days already, but I don't care. That's what they're for.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
ways in which independant life could not get better
- Watching an all-night Real World marathon all night long BECAUSE I CAN.
- Not leaving my apartment for the entire weekend because, frankly, I have relaxing to do.
- Going to Ralphs wearing pjs and slippers.
- Going out at night and then going out to eat at 2am and ordering scrambled eggs with toast and a banana split for dessert.
- Walking around my apartment naked. Obviously, this should be #1.
the upside of anger
I just finished watching The Upside of Anger and sobbed HYSTERICALLY for like ten minutes after it was over. It's a great movie, and I loved it most of the way through, but that twist just turns it from sad to tragic. I get why it's in there, to show that we waste so much time being angry, but it just changes everything.
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