Thursday, December 30, 2004

no words... 

Phuket Tsunami - First hand accounts of the tsunami after it hit Phuket, Thailand and its aftermath. Amazing and scary and sad.

damn it all... 

That's it. No more. I have decided upon a New Year's resolution. I will not let anyone get too close to me, get to know me too well. Because when they do they inevitably figure out my likes and dislikes, which will enable those with a keen eye and sharp mind to accurately predict the sorts of books and music that I will like, or that I will adore. And as I am endeavoring to maintain my aura of Femme Fatale, International Woman of Mystery, such predictability simply will not do.

Back in the bright hazy days of summer, you may recall that I went on a camping trip, during which I bought a nice-sized stack of books at a library sale. When showing the ever-growing stack to CuteNerdBoy, after a bit of chuckling at the height of the stack, he noticed my selection of Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver, whose work I'd never read. "Oh, you'll enjoy her books," he said to me.

Damn him, he was right.

I finished reading it yesterday and I very much enjoyed the book. It spoke to both my intellect and my heart, which is harder than one might suppose. I don't think I even once thought, "Oh, she should've phrased it this way," which crosses my mind even when reading John Irving or Sue Miller, both of whom I've professed my undying devotion as a devourer of books.

I think I've got yet another author to follow. As if I haven't added enough over the last year as it is.

See if I ever let someone figure out my taste in literature again. Harumph!

Have I got my music listening cut out for me? You betcha.

Whilst Christmas shopping last week I picked up a few CDs for myself, because it had been a very long time since I'd bought any music. Rufus Wainwright, Queen Latifah, Chantal Kreviazuk and an interesting little CD, Songs Inspired By Literature, which is quite good. I've listened to those a little bit since I bought them, but with the death of my beloved portable CD player, I can no longer listen whilst riding on the bus, which significantly cuts into my music listening time.


Yesterday I had the lunch with GruvLoungeGoth that was postponed from Tuesday. And he brought with him, as I knew he would, a boatload of CDs from the Kenny Club. I had missed the last two meetings due to illness, so everyone gave their CDs for November and December to him, knowing he could probably get them to me since he works down the street from me. Thing is, it's one thing to know you'll be getting 24 CDs. It's another thing to actually look at the stack and wonder if there is any way in hell you'll get through all 24 before the January meeting in two weeks. And make the time to comment on them on the website, as is proper.

(Right now I'm listening to The Dividing by Android Lust, which was GruvLoungeGoth's selection for October. Some of it I like quite a bit, some of it not so much. And some of it I can tell I would love it if I were in the right mood. The nice thing is that the variety of music from the Kenny Club members is pretty wide, ranging from electronica to classic sixties to Jonatha Brooke, bluegrass to Hollywood spoof to mainstream alternative. I have no doubt I'll find something I love.)

And since I also received the latest Wilson Phillips CD from ModelGirl on Sunday, my total of new CDs? Is up to 30.

Too much music, too little time...

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

nobody puts jerry in a corner... 

It's strange. There are actors that seem to have been around forever. They have a way of sneaking into your heart even if you don't follow their careers all that closely. So much so that whenever you see them onscreen, whether in a movie or on TV, you have to smile a little smile because the entertainment you're watching is just that much better for their mere presence. A twinkle in the eye, a broad smile, or even a curmudgeonly scowl is enough to brighten the screen. And when they're gone, when they leave this earth forever, you know the entertainment world will never be the same again.

I am, of course, talking about Jerry Orbach. He passed away on Tuesday due to prostate cancer just as he was ready to take the role of Detective Lennie Briscoe to a Law and Order spinoff.

I'll be honest - I've never seen a full episode of Law and Order. I understand it was very good but I just never got into it, not even with Jerry on it. To be frank, I'm not even sure how Jerry Orbach first entered my consciousness. I know it was before he appeared in Dirty Dancing, which is a movie that legions of women from my generation seem to adore. Including myself, though it wasn't until the film appeared on TV that I saw it. But Dirty Dancing certainly seemed to bring Jerry into mainstream awareness, cemented by his twelve season run on Law and Order.

An awareness that was richly deserved, because he was one of the best. I remember when I watched Chicago the first time. As Richard Gere strutted onscreen, I thought, "Not bad, but he's no Jerry Orbach." Jerry originated the role of Billy Flynn on Broadway. I'm very familiar with the original cast recording of Chicago and his performance was enough to enable me to envision him onstage - smooth and cocky, every inch the proverbial "anything to win" laywer. To be able to convey an fascinating character with just the power of your voice is amazing to me. A talent he put to good use in Beauty and the Beast as Lumiere.

He was in a few clunkers, to be sure, but what actor hasn't? Though I've never seen the clunkers in question, I have no doubt that he still managed to perk up the screen even in A Gnome Named Gnorm and Dead Women in Lingerie. He just had that kind of presence and talent. Enough so that a person could pretty much bank on his continued excellence as an entertainer.

That's the thing with character actors that have been around for such a long time - they are just there, and they seem like they'll be there forever and that you'll never know life without them around.

But they're human, too. Almost painfully so, subject to human illnesses and weaknesses. And when they fall prey to those illnesses, it makes life just a little bit sadder.

Goodbye, Jerry. We'll miss you.

a quick update... 

ValleyGirlRep and her hubby are safe and sound and staying in Bangkok before they venture to the eastern islands of Thailand (I understand most of the destruction was on the western islands). They flew out on Sunday, before news of the tsunamis made it back to the States.

Definitely a load off my mind, let me tell you. Thank you for all of your well-wishes.

There are over 100,000 projected deaths due to the earthquake and tsunamis. Such a high number is too mind-numbing to comprehend.

A few places to go if you want to help the victims:
American Red Cross
Amazon.com - American Red Cross Disaster Relief
This Is Not Over - links to charitable agencies in several countries
CNN.com - Aid groups accepting donations for victims
Daily Kos - links to charitable agencies
The South-East Asia Earthquake and Tsunami blog - links and updates

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

more prayers... 

I'm asking for more prayers for a friend. ValleyGirlRep and her new hubby were on their way to Thailand for a belated honeymoon this week. As y'all probably know, Thailand was one of twelve countries hit by the massive tsunamis on Sunday. Unfortunately I don't know if they were going to fly out before or after Christmas and I haven't heard from her, nor have the other reps on the sales team. I'm really starting worry about them. I have left a couple of messages on cell and home office voicemails, and I think I'll leave another one with my home number. I'm hoping that they're too busy calling people to let everyone know they're okay.

Please let them have waited until after Christmas to fly. And please, everyone, keep them in your thoughts/prayers/hearts.

My heart also goes out to the tens of thousands of families who have lost loved ones. It's just so very sad.

Monday, December 27, 2004

feel like a quiz? 

Me too! So here's another one from Shmuel's Soapbox:

You scored as Lawful Good. A lawful good person acts as a good person is expected or required to act. They are dedicated to upholding both what is right and what is set down in law.

Lawful Good


Neutral Good


True Neutral


Chaotic Good


Lawful Neutral


Lawful Evil


Chaotic Neutral


Neutral Evil


Chaotic Evil


What is your Alignment?
created with QuizFarm.com

i know, i know... 

...I haven't been around. Just been busy with family and friend holiday stuff. Plus once I got home from said holiday outings I was just tired and the thought of writing was just too much to bear. It still is, quite frankly, but I thought I'd at least check in, let y'all know I'm alive and well and was entirely unsuccessful in avoiding the storm that swooped in about an hour ago. Oh, I stayed dry until I had to leave Sarriah's car and run to my front doorstep, but those few minutes saw my hair become almost completely drenched. I think Sarriah fared worse than I did.

First things first: I hope that Christmas-celebratin' folks had a fantastic Christmas. And I know I'm a bit late with this - though I did wish this to a few people personally - but that ol' Chanukkah from a few weeks back? Hope it was a terrific one. Also, happy Kwanza! And for my atheist readers (I know I have at least two): may this non-holiday-time also be joyous and enjoy the free days off!

(I am the Queen of Belated Best Wishes - moreso this year then any other year, it would seem. Too much into my own head, methinks).

Okay, a bit of a backstep here. Christmas Eve saw me out of bed and walking to my bank by 9am to fix an account problem, which didn't take too long, then off to the mall to Christmas shop because I still had most of my presents to buy and had no idea what I was going to buy for anyone. I would have done some shopping Thursday night, but had no access to my money until my account problem was fixed.

But, because I'm a damned good shopper and I know the tastes of people pretty well, I finished almost all of it in about four hours. I still have a few things to get, but I won't be seeing those folks for a couple of weeks, so I have a little time. Then I rushed home, showered, and got ready for BabySis and family to pick me up, because I was spending the night at their place, as was Mom. The rest of Christmas Eve was spent hanging with family and helping BabySis wrap presents for BSSon, in addition to wrapping the presents that I brought. I was stretched out on the couch and trying to sleep by 2am, but I wasn't entirely successful with the sleeping.

One of the best parts of the weekend, though, was Saturday morning when, around 6:30 am, BSSon ran around the apartment to wake everyone because Santa had come and left presents! I was surprised he had waited so long, because when I was a kid 6am was too late for any of us to start waking up the parents. Five am was about average for the kids in my family.

So we sat up and unwrapped presents, with BSSon practically in an avalanche of gifts, almost all of them toys. I bought him clothes because I'm never sure with toys and I know kids will always have a use for clothes. Plus I just love to buy clothes, trying to pick out something that is hip and cool, but not overly so. I tend to do pretty well with kids' clothes.

For the others I got BabySis an aromatherapy de-stress pack, BSHubby got a Blockbuster gift card and Mom got shoes, which I knew she needed. And from Mom I received a pretty blue bottle with silk flowers and bath oil and BabySis and family a vegetarian cookbook and a cool coffee mug. BTW, that, along with the set of four mugs from my manager and the four cool shoe mugs from Sarriah (they weren't shaped like shoes - they just had drawings and descriptions of shoes that spoke to my shoe-loving heart), upped my Christmas mug count to nine. For Carol it was the Year of the Mugs. Which is just fine because I happen to like mugs a lot. I'm not a collector, but I just love a cool looking mug.

The rest of the day was spent hanging out, cooking and eating, though BSHubby spent the majority of the day putting together all the toys that BSSon received. As that household is an Adam Sandler household, we ended up watching Billy Madison and Big Daddy, neither of which I had ever seen or had ever wanted to. But once I saw that my sweet, sweet pretend boyfriend Jon Stewart was in Big Daddy, I realized that I may have to watch it again on a day where I wasn't busy cooking. Damn it all.

After pie that I just didn't have the tummy room for - though I managed to barely eat a couple of bites - BSHubby drove me home since I had to be out of the house relatively early on Sunday to meet ModelGirl and her family for brunch and gift exchange. So on Sunday I spent a few hours there, having a terrific time and playing a little bit with their son, eating too much food again and enjoying the gift exchange, then I headed home, where I collapsed on the sofa and vegged. And today I ran a couple of errands and met Sarriah to give her the writing journal that I made for her, along with a pen and bookmark, then off for Ikea shopping and a little something to eat, whereupon she dropped me back at home.

And here I am at home, listening to the rain, making plans with GruvLoungeGoth to get together for lunch tomorrow and hoping his lovely wife can make it, since I haven't seen her in over ten years and I've only spoken with her once since her hubby and I reconnected. I'll be working on a new mix CD tonight, I think, and not much else.

As I mentioned in my last entry, my natural inclination right now is to hermit myself away and not see or talk to anyone, but the holidays - and my friends and family - are making that a difficult proposition. Though I am, for the most part, feeling like a conversational bump on a log, which makes me not want to interact with people, I'm more grateful than resentful for this interaction.

I really am a pretty lucky person.

Thursday, December 23, 2004

not necessarily a reflection... 

I'm sitting here at work, working as one is wont to do in such a situation. I decide that I have no desire to work in near silence. More specifically, I'm endeavoring to block out the voices of the two older SisterCompany reps, as they tend be rather negative, old-boy-school types that can be grating on my nerves. More so now that my SisterCompany counterpart is on vacation, as is the younger SisterCompany rep whom I get along with pretty well.

So I decide to pop in a little music. I'd listen to Christmas music except that all of my holiday CDs are at home. And they're really not very good. I opt to listen to the Once More, with Feeling soundtrack, inspired by one of the quizzes yesterday. I haven't listened to it for a long time. I enjoy it as I have in the past, but decide that one listening for today is plenty.

What next? Something with a beat is what I need, to get the blood pumping and the work finished. Rifling through the collection, I come across The Singles 86>98 by Depeche Mode, another album I haven't listened to in a very long time. I pop it in and enjoy the layered synth orchestrations, the evocative melodies and dark vocals. I'm not much of an 80s music kind of girl, but this is exactly the type of 80s music that appeals to me.

As I listen to the music it strikes me - if someone were to judge my mood by just the music I've been listening to, one might come to the conclusion that I'm in a dark, depressed mood and maybe it would be wise to remove the X-Acto knife from my desk drawer.

One would be mistaken.

I'm actually in a pretty good mood. I'll admit it, there are a few things I'm a little nervous about (mainly money - but I'm always nervous about that). And yes, I have been feeling a wee bit of one of my low-level derpressions over the last month or so. I can always tell when one of those swing by because the urge to hermit myself away tugs at my pant-legs and I have to kick it away with steel-toed boots. Also, I find writing to be more of a chore than a joy, which I see being reflected in the quality of my entries this month - they just don't sparkle in my eyes. But the whole reason I signed up for Holidailies was to get me back in the habit of writing more often than I had been.

So no, I'm not a bouncing giddy girl and I haven't been for a little while. But I'm not really all depressed and mopey either, despite my choice in music today.

I just...am. Right now, that's good enough for me.

Besides, through this head/chest cold I can smell the fragrance of the rosemary Christmas tree I bought a couple of weeks ago for the showroom. The plant I just watered. The shrub whose scent lingers on my fingers and fills me with calm.

With the perfume of rosemary and pine and hot chocolate in the air, how can depression take hold? It can't. That little sucker may keep poking around me, as it has for a few years, but it doesn't stand much of a chance for long-term survival.

However, I do.

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

veritable quiz explosion... 

Over on Holidailies I took a quick look at a couple of the journals/blogs and saw one I hadn't read in a very long time: Shmuel's Soapbox. And on there I discovered some fabulous quizzes that I - Quiz Whore Extraordinare - could not resist. All very interesting...

Freudian Inventory Results
Oral (53%) you appear to have a good balance of independence and interdependence knowing when to accept help and when to do things on your own.
Anal (26%) you appear to be overly lacking in self control and organization, and possibly have a compulsive need to defy authority. If you are too scatterbrained, you will not develop much as a person as you will habitually switch paths before you ever learn anything.
Phallic (80%) you appear to have issues with controlling your sexual desires and possibly fidelity.
Latency (56%) you appear to have a good balance of abstract knowledge seeking and practicality, dealing with real world responsibilities while still cultivating your abstract and creative faculties and interests.
Genital (63%) you appear to have a progressive and openminded outlook on life unbeholden to regressive forces like traditional authority and convention.
Take Free Freudian Inventory Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

You scored as Euterpe. You are Euterpe, the muse of music.
You are an inventor, and you constantly come up with new ideas.
You are happy when everyone else is happy.


















Which of the Greek Muses are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence

You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well. An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly. You are also good at remembering information and convicing someone of your point of view. A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary.

You would make a fantastic poet, journalist, writer, teacher, lawyer, politician, or translator.
What Kind of Intelligence Do You Have?

Where Do We Go From Here?
Which Buffy Musical Song Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

ya ever... 

...feel like typing about nothing in particular? Start a blog entry with no subject and nothing really to say?

Nah, me neither.

Also, not feeling the love for the work today. I'm sittin' here, and I'm sorta working, but it's not with a heart filled with furniture love. More like a heart filled with cookies. Or that hard candy with the little Santa faces and Christmas trees on it. And that candy is slightly stale, but sticky and oddly addictive.

I think I need spiked egg-nog. And maybe a little medication...

any doubts... 

...I'm just a big ol' dork? File them away because the proof is out there.

Anyone who's been reading all the fun of the fair... for any length of time has noticed that one of the people I link to often is John Scalzi. His Whatever is full of fantastic stuff on a pretty regular basis and has been since before I first started reading in '98.

I may or may not have mentioned this before (and I'm too lazy to look it up right now), but truth of the matter is that reading the Whatever - which I discovered when I participated in a alt.society newsgroup once upon a year, not long before his daughter Athena was born - was the thing that led me to reading other online journals, which led me down the somewhat questionable path of journaling and blogging. So, for good or ill, a person could call John my online writing father. I hope the birth wasn't too painful for him.

Well, imagine my delight when a few days ago my Online Writing Daddy left a comment in the "Unhip" entry. Why, inwardly I squealed like a little school girl. Or a stuck pig. Not sure which.

It's kinda like being linked by Chuck and Steve, two writers whose online work I've read and admired for almost as long as I've been reading John's. (Though meeting them was even better.)

Yeah, I'm just a big dork. I'm pretty sure that's not a shock to anyone.

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

story time... 

I'm tired and for some reason trying to type about something real in my life is too much work, so I'm performing an experiment. I'm just going to write up a story on the fly and see where it takes me. Hopefully it'll be entertaining.
Hands. She never quite realized before how important hands were to her. Oh, she knew that she liked artistic yet masculine hands. Whenever she saw someone she thought was cute and noticed his hands were strong yet nimble, she felt a little extra thrill, quickly imagining those hands kneading and caressing and lightly thrumming. But she'd always thought it was just a frothy whipped cream frosting on a yummy lemon cake.

Today, though, as she spoke to this very cute guy - the man to whom she spoke everyday regarding work issues over the last few weeks - today she happened to really notice his hands with her quick yet thorough glance. She saw that his hands were not strong, were not all that masculine. Artistic, yes, but far more delicate in appearance then she liked, not possessing of a breadth and strength that called to her inner - and outer - woman. In that moment the excitement of speaking to this handsome man dimmed a bit. The depth of her disappointment, almost palpable, surprised her. This surprise caused her to reconsider the possible truth of her own shallowness.

Just as well her partner in conversation was married.


Monday, December 20, 2004

i love the smell... 

...of racism in the evening.

Also fabulous? Our media's fucked-up priorities that don't even mention the name William Krar. A man who could have made Timothy McVeigh look like a Boy Scout.

Betcha if he had brown skin or was overheard to say "Allah" he'd have been plastered all over the news.

So tell me, ya think he might have been, oh, I dunno, un-American?

(Links courtesy of Magnum P.I. and Audra.)

Sunday, December 19, 2004

walk a little, enjoy your neighborhood... 

I've written before about my reluctant love for this strangely bright city. And I'll be the first to admit there are things about Los Angeles that I don't like. After all, no city is perfect. Not even, I'll wager, Portland, Oregon. But this odd city isn't all that bad to live in. Even though it is the Land of Automobiles.

Perhaps that's what L.A. really stands for. And it is most definitely the truth of the city. All hours of the day and night cars can be seen traveling - oftentimes jamming - the streets and freeways. Jokes and stories, films and hymns have been made about Los Angeles and its love of motor vehicles. Steve Martin was not entirely exaggerating in L.A. Story when his character drove two houses to his best friend's home (I once worked for a woman who drove from work to K-Mart - which was across the street). Back when I had a car I drove almost everywhere, even down the street.

Thing is, with the average Angeleno's need for commuting via personal vehicle, we miss out on so much, even in our own neighborhoods. I've lived in my neighborhood for over eleven years. I love my neighborhood. Though in the Valley - which garners snorts and derision from those on the southern side of the Hollywood Hills - my little neighborhood on the southeast side of the Valley is really quite wonderful. Its proximity to Hollywood and West Hollywood is convenient and, while there are chain stores in the area, there are still enough privately owned restaurants and not-too-expensive boutiques, coffee houses and bookstores to make it feel a wee bit less suburban than most of the rest of the Valley. And all this wonderfulness? Is within walking distance for anyone who is willing to use their feet for locomotion.

Much of this has come about over the last decade. I live on the edge of an affluent area, but it's close enough to a not-so-affluent area that one can see the influence of near-by gangs, though that influence has been waning in recent years. Perhaps because the city and the neighborhood have been working on building up the formerly run-down place (and trust me, when I first moved here in '93, that area in question was very much run-down, though my immediate neighborhood has always been nice), turning it into streets lined with shops and restaurants, live theatres and art galleries. There's more work to be done, but nonetheless, it's been exciting to watch.

It's even more exciting when I take a stroll around the neighborhood, because I am constantly discovering new things. Things that I tell myself to remember the next time I might want to try a new restaurant or need a florist. Places that I would never notice were I still to have a car, because I, like so many other people in this fair city, would drive right by it on my way to Someplace Else.

So yeah, it would be a good thing for me to have a car again, for many reasons. But there's no denying that not having a car has helped me to discover this neighborhood in which I live. And there's no bad in that.

Saturday, December 18, 2004

where's the tipsy? 

So last night I realized something new about myself: When I'm sick, I have a high tolerance to alcohol. Not that it doesn't normally take a while before I get drunk. As a rule I can have about five or six drinks before I find myself very definitely drunk. But usually I feel a wee bit tipsy on the second or third drink.

Well, last night I was invited by Sarriah to her company holiday party at Gotham Hall, a rather hip, trendy club on the Third Street Promenade (almost ironic, considering my last entry). We showed up a wee bit late, but got there just in time for the buffet food portion of the evening, which was actually pretty good. I saw a bunch of people I hadn't seen in a while and met a few new people, which was cool. I also danced a little bit with Sarriah's boss and his partner, which was fun. Best of all, BossGuy was there with his boyfriend, who still works for the company. I hadn't seen BossGuy since he quit in October 2003 and I really had missed him. I'd tried to contact him several times since he left, but aside from a lengthy phone call in June where I finally had gotten hold of him, I hadn't heard from him since. And since my organizer completely died a couple of months ago, I lost all of my contact information for anyone who hadn't sent it to me via e-mail. Which meant that BossGuy's info has been gone all this time. Before he left for the evening I got his phone number, so hopefully I'll get the rest of his info soon.

So, back to the title - I'd had four drinks in the space of three hours and was barely feeling a buzz. And this was after barely eating all day due to, well, not feeling up to eating. Okay, I called in sick to work, which was the absolute truth - I was sick. And I did need the rest, which is why I slept until after noon, then showered, dressed nicely and bussed my way out to meet Sarriah. Anywho, by the end of the evening I thought back to the Wednesday evening a couple of weeks ago in Tennessee, where after dinner a group of us ventured out of the dry county we were staying in and found a club/bar where we drank all night long and I barely got a buzz all night. On that night I was sick with a cold, too, though I had eaten more that night. It was then that I realized I can drink a fair amount of alcohol when struck down with a cold and not really feel it, outside of a wee bit of nauseousness.

I imparted this observation to Sarriah last night, who said, "That makes sense - your body chemistry is off." And it's true. Since she has seen me pretty drunk in the past, she probably could tell the difference.

I haven't decided if that's a good thing or not, though. However, it doesn't make my singing voice overcome its current stripped sound as I butchered Secret Agent Man during an ill-advised kareoke moment (I sang it so much better in Vegas a few years ago). Nor did my non-tipsyness make it any easier to sleep when I'm sick, which is unfortunate. I just hope that my coughing fits while I tried to sleep on Sarriah's sofabed in didn't wake her up.

Maybe I should have had a few more drinks after all...

Thursday, December 16, 2004

top five reasons i will never be considered hip... 

5. I hate most modern slang. This may come as a shock to some people, because I do tend to speak in a very conversational, somewhat Valley Girl-esque, Buffy sort of way, but so many of the slang words and phrases that have made the rounds over the last decade or so are just grating to my ears. Thusly, nothing in my world will ever be "hella cool". I have never been "jiggy wit' it". No one has ever "Fo'shizzled my nizzle," and I'm pretty sure I won't, "Drop it like it's hot." Okay, that one actually makes sense to me, so maybe once in a while I will do a little dropping. Maybe. Occasionally something will be "wicked awesome", but only occasionally. I have never told someone to, "Talk to the hand," or that they were, "All that and a bag of chips". However, I have been known to say, "Talk to the pinkie, 'cause you ain't worth the hand," or "Hon, you ain't even a bag of chips," but this doesn't make me hip. This makes me contrarian.

4. I think women wearing spiked heels are just asking for an ankle twisting. Yes, until recently I was guilty of wearing 3" heels - or higher - on a regular basis. But my heels were always pretty solid. Sometimes even chunky. Hip? No. Attractive yet almost practical? You betcha. And those shoes with the itty-bitty spiked heels? All manners of ugly.

3. I think capris are both stupid and ugly. That link says it all.

2. I don't recognize most of "today's hot young actors". It's only by reading sites such as Go Fug Yourself that I even know who Mischa Barton is. Not that my world is richer for the knowing, but at least I can laugh at her clothes.

And the top reason I will never be considered hip:

1. I'm me. Trust me, just by being the person that I am - Star Trek loving, Sherlock Holmes adoring, Paris Hilton hating, WB eschewing Carol - I've ensured that I will never hold a place in the Hip Hall of Fame, even though some of my trendier clothes might put me in the Dresses Too Young For Her Age Hall of Shame. You know what, though? That is perfectly alright with me. I've been an unhip geekish type person my entire life. It works for me.

Being unhip? It's cool. In fact, it's all good...

just a bourgeois girl at heart... 

First thing's first: My friend whose parents were in the bad car accident a couple of weeks ago? The parents are doing much better. They were injured pretty badly, but are on the mend and look like they'll definitely be okay. So thank you for your prayers/thoughts/good mojo. I appreciate it and I'm sure my friend does too.


Yes, yet another day went by with no entry from me. But I had a good reason. No, really!

Yesterday was the monthly team meeting for the sales team I support. It went a little differently than usual, thanks to a last minute company-wide conference call at the beginning of the day and two of our team members showing up quite late due to traffic and traveling. Not to mention my manager being sick as a dog, so even though she was there, she didn't have the energy to lead the meeting as she usuallly does. And my VP had to participate in another conference call a few hours into the meeting, so we lost her for a bit. On top of that, NewYorkWriter is leaving the company, due to an excellent job offer from out of the blue from one of the dealers she does business with. We're all very happy for her, but sad that tomorrow is her last day, so that changed the energy a bit. Especially since my manager started the day with an interview in the showroom with a prospective replacement for NewYorkWriter.

So those meetings usually last until about 2 or 3pm, which means I have no time to jot off a quick entry during the day, because the balance of the day is spent catching up. Well, yesterday it was an intensified version of that, because around 1pm we stopped the meeting portion of the day so that we could exchange holiday gifts. And exchange we did. I've never worked someplace where I've gotten - or given - so many gifts. It was a little nerve-wracking trying to come up with something for everyone, but in the end I picked up some lovely ceramic basket-weave bowls, painted them a little, and put a few person-specific goodies in each. For instance, SanDiegoManager has expressed an interest in being a children's book writer, so I picked a little children's book, a small journal with a cute duck on the cover and a pen for her. That sort of thing. They all liked it, and were amazed that I had painted the bowls (really very easy), so that made sickie little me feel a bit better. From the reps I received lovely, very thoughtful things, such as a bag with personalized notecards and other cute things, a silver braclet, a Curious George lunch-box with goodies, a Coach measuring tape and purse-sized notebook and a set of mugs and yummy looking hot chocolate. Plus nummy home-baked Italian cookies from OrangeCountyRep for everyone, including the SisterCompany folks.

Just very nice things from very sweet ladies.

Then off for a quick walk to The Ivy for lunch. I'd never been there before and, though I knew it was nearby, I had no idea it was across the street from my beloved Newsroom Cafe. OrangeCountyRep had the one celebrity sighting (Amanda Peet - though I'm good at spotting celebrities, I don't think I would have recognized her because she comes from a generation of WB actors I pay no attention to, though I have seen Two Ninas at the behest of Sarriah - oh, and I just remember I saw her in Identity, but I was too busy staring at John Cusak, John Hawkes and Alfred Molina to pay much attention to her), but otherwise it was an uneventful, if fun and enjoyable lunch.

However, it was when I looked at the drink menu that I realized I am not only hopelessly middle-class, but even if I were to ever get to the point where I could afford The Ivy on a daily basis, I don't think I would want to. I mean, $6.75 for a glass of orange juice? $10 for a bowl of soup? Don't get me wrong, the food was excellent and the atmosphere charming, but I happen to think that the spinach and cheese ravioli I had really didn't need a $22.75 price tag. I can't imagine how much the lobster ravioli that everyone else had (except for OrangeCountyRep) cost. Then again, that's not to say I didn't have the orange juice or soup or ravioli or yummy white chocolate lemon cake. After all, when in Rome, eat Italian food! Or something like that.

So, yeah, as I said at the top, I am a simple bourgeois gal, and that suits me just fine. I can get equally good food at the Newsroom across the street, with a much wider selection for a veggie gal like me for less money. Same with my dear-to-me Mason Jar Cafe, around the corner from my workplace.

Still, I will admit, it is kinda cool to say that I've at least been to The Ivy. Maybe I'm not quite so bourgeois after all...

As for the rest of the day, after the two hour lunch I spent the rest of the work day - plus a little more - catching up on work. Due to buses, I got home at around 7:45pm and started napping on the sofa, then went to bed a little after 8pm, whereupon I fell asleep between 8:30 and 9pm. Sleep richly needed, though I did wake up about three times during the night with the hacking and coughing and nose blowing. So I slept in a few more hours and got into work today at noon.

See? Busy and sick and coming off a Tuesday night where I slept maybe two hours all told (I stayed up painting and baking for the team meeting). Who had time to write?

Not me, apparently.


BTW, no poker game at Jim's on Saturday due to lack of participation (stupid holidays). Yeah, that caused a bit of pouting my end. However, he is planning to reschedule for January, so that's of the good. Especially since that only means I'll have more time to hone my poker skills. And that means it will be more difficult to take my money from me.

Jim and his friends may end up regretting this decision...

What?! That was not an evil laugh. Honest! It was just an odd-sounding cough. No, really!

Oh, why does no one ever believe me?!

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

i don't get it... 

...I've been sick. I'm still getting over the cold from my Tennessee trip. I'm trying to get the sleep I need (in bed by 10:30pm last night - woo!). I'm working on upping my water intake, plus I'm loving my tea, which I always crave when I'm sick. During lunch I'm gonna buy a gallon of orange juice to drink at work.

Then why, in the name of all that's semi-holy, am I feeling the tale-tell throat tickle I get whenever I'm about to be sick? Why are my sinuses tingling in that oh-so-special way I feel the day before a cold hits me?

I'm thinking those viruses (virii?) that I managed to avoid for a relatively lengthy period of time have been waiting patiently in line, hanging out, looking out for the time when my defenses would be low to gang up on me. Tennessee just happened to present the perfect opportunity, with my subsequent illness providing the ideal breeding ground for additional sickness.

Oh, this is going to be a fun holiday season...

Monday, December 13, 2004

bad lil' girl... 

...yes, I have been.

Not in the "Killed a man in Reno for his pie/kicked small puppies/slept around and around" way (though I'm starting to miss how I used have sex on a more frequent basis - I can't believe I've been celibate since March - not the longest I've gone without sex, but still...).

Nope, I've just been sleeping too little, standing in the sun too long, drinking too little water and too much caffeine. The consequences of that can now be seen on my face. My complexion is blotchier than it's been in a long time and over the last month or so I've noticed little creases on my forehead and between my eyebrows. I haven't had those before. My mother, who is in her mid-sixties, doesn't have those lines.

I do use moisturizer that contains SPF 15 (I refuse to use any other kind), but that doesn't seem to be enough to keep the creases from developing, which annoys me. Crow's feet wouldn't bother me, but these? Are just very wrong.


Though this should come as a surprise to no one, censorship is alive and well and living in New York City. It's also retroactive.

G-d, how these people exhaust me.

(Links courtesy of TheFirst.)

just a busy lil' bee... 

On Friday I actually wrote out an entry about the upcoming weekend and seeing Fahrenheit 9/11 Thursday night, but my wonky work computer froze up and ate it before I could post. Since I had only about five minutes until I had to leave, since I was busy Friday night, I decided to just leave it be. And I was pretty busy the rest of the weekend, so, as you no doubt noticed, no weekend posting.

The screening on Thursday night was pretty interesting. Turns out it was a BAFTA screening, of which I was unaware. Ther reason I was able to get in via Sarriah is because the movie was distributed by my former workplace, where Sarriah still works. Very cool. Especially with all of those lovely British accents surrounding me. Oh, how I adore British accents. Must be the Anglophile in me.

Once more I found Fahrenheit 9/11 moving, infuriating, depressing and motivating. I wept and clenched and again found myself burning with a cold anger at the actions of the administration. Though I still think that Michael Moore was reaching with some of his conclusions, there was - and is - no disputing the facts presented. Mainly because many of the documents from which Moore received his facts were shown onscreen and most of which are available to everyday citizens through the Freedom of Information Act. At least until Bush and Cronies decide that releasing such information would "endanger national security".

The Q & A session following the screening was also very fascinating. Far from being outrageous for the sake of being outrageous, Michael Moore was actually a bit reserved, self-deprecating and soft-spoken, except when talking about subjects that passionately moved him, such as corruption and injustice. You can love him or hate him - and there's no denying he plays the gadfly quite well - but there's also no denying that, despite his apparent need to be in the spotlight, he's really not in it for just the publicity. He makes films about subjects he feels needs to be addressed and brought to the public and happens to be damned good at it. I completely respect that.

In relation to the above, check out this at Magnum P.I.'s Journal. I've never voted for a People's Choice award, but in this case I will do so. I think it's time to send a message and maybe this will do it.

(BTW, if'n ya want to keep up on political news, Magnum P.I. is a good place to go. He's much better at that than I am. A nice mix of politics and personal, is the man of the queso.)

As for the weekend? Friday night was spent baby-sitting for ModelGirl and her hubby. MGSon was a complete doll to sit for, good-natured and sweet and just a beautiful little baby. Like any baby he was a little fussy a couple of times, but not for long. I was at Disneyland for the majority of Saturday, spending it with RockerChick and friends for RockerChick's annual Disneyland birthday celebration. There were six of us this time, and I did have fun, thought there were more than a couple of moments where I flashed back to last year. Understandable, since I hadn't been there since last year and it was a such a bittersweet visit for me.

And no, still no contact with CuteNerdBoy. This time of year is emotion fraught enough. Not sure I'm ready to throw more emotions into mix. I will contact him again. When I'm ready.

And Sunday? Lots and lots of holiday shopping. So much so that my arms and feet were killing me when I got home. It was all I could do to put down my purhases and crawl to my sofa. Let me tell ya: that stuff's heavy when you're bussing and walking around town.

So, yeah, a busy weekend to be sure. And this week also promises to be pretty busy, what with more shopping, a little baking, getting work presents ready for the team meeting on Wednesday, Sarriah's company party on Friday and a poker game at Jim's on Saturday night.

The game should be full of fun and fascination. Not only will I be meeting Jim and his girlfriend for the first time, but before last week I knew how to play only five card draw and seven card stud (my high school geometry teacher taught me seven card stud). However I haven't played either for years. Nor have I ever played poker for money. But last week TheFirst was sweet enough to sit with me on the phone as we watched the World Poker Tour for an hour and teach me the finer points of Texas Hold 'Em. So while I'll probably lose my money fairly quickly, I may have just stretched out the painful process by a few more hands. Whee!

Thursday, December 09, 2004

bits o' sticking stuff... 

...not that I know what that title means.

Tonight was going to be my night to hang at home. Making a few phone calls, writing today's entry - just generally kickin' and chillin'.

Until Sarriah called with an offer I couldn't refuse: a screening of Farenheit 9/11, followed by a Q & A session with Michael Moore. Considering my feelings after the last time I saw the movie, y'all can bet I jumped on that offer faster than Britney Spears on a skanky back-up dancer. So that's where I'll be tonight. Yea!

(I'll be at the screening, I mean, not with Brit and her skanky back-up dancer. Because that's just a world full of Eeeww...)

Y'all will just have to accept this as today's entry. Sorry, my darlings!

In not so good news, though I am against the death penalty, I'm tempted to say this woman should be shot.

But because I'd like to end this entry on a happy note, in super good news, Pamie and her comedy partner-in-crime Liz have taken Letters Never Sent all the way. If that doesn't deserve a hearty congrats and a Woo-Frickin'-Hoo, I don't know what does.

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

no. try not. do... or do not. there is no try. 

Sometimes that's easier said than done, my dear Yoda. Because no matter how much you do, doing turns into trying, and despite all the doing and the trying, a girl still ends up with cracked - though slowly healing - heart.


Though I don't exactly hate Christmas as GruvLoungeGoth claims to, I do have to agree with his agreement with Sarah Bunting's dislike of certain Christmasy things.

Or as I ranted in his comments:
"I *heart* Sarah Bunting.

"What I really hate about Do They Know It's Christmas Time? is the arrogance and cluelessness about nearly every line. I mean, just the title steams my chaps. Maybe, just maybe, a significant portion of the populace does not subscribe to Christian dogma, so whether it's Christmas time or not is immaterial.

"Also, the ones that are Christians? Probably know it's Christmas. Christians all over the world tend to keep up on that sort of thing. And last, but not even close to least, 'Thank G-d it's them instead of you.' WTF? Why would I ever, ever thank G-d that other people are suffering? What kind of bullshit 'Better them than me' mentality is that?

"What scares me even more? I hear there's a freaking remake. How many levels of fucked up is that?"

Far too many to count...

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

and for good measure... 

what decade does your personality live in?
quiz brought to you by lady interference, ltd

Lightly borrowed from Sarriah's friend Chris/CO149.

Sure, why not? At least my personality isn't living in the 80s. Which is interesting, since I was a teen in the 80s.


a brand spanking new month... 

...at least according to Holidailies. And if Holidailies declares it, it must be so. As a result, I must make an effort to post something resembling a post every gosh-darned day, even if it kills me. Though if it does kill me, I imagine my output will drop off significantly. Unless I'm like Tupac Shakur and a boatload of unposted entries are discovered on my hard-drive, to be published posthumously in 2005 by the executors of my estate, with a helping hand by Eminem. With my luck, though, such stellar entries titled i have diamond-hard toenails... and ooh, look at edison's hairball! will be lauded as online poetry for a new generation and I won't see one thin dime from the hardbacks and trade paperbacks that will inevitably come about, only be to turned into a Major Motion Picture Starring Tom Hanks, Colin Farrell, a dark-haired Renee Zellweger as me - though she'll bitch and complain because she had to eat a friggin' cookie and didn't she go through enough when she gained weight for the Bridget Jones movies, even though she had the money to personal-train and no-carb her way back to skeletal in no time and the only person worth watching in those movies anyway was Colin Firth - and Eddie from Frasier as Noel the Wonder Dog because dogs are so much easier to train than cats and they have a higher Q rating anyway. Colin Farrell will assume that twitching his scary humungous eyebrows counts as acting and will be properly ignored but Tom Hanks and Renee Zellweger will win Oscars because they overacted the hell out of parts that were written completely detached from reality because even though Renee and I share a birthday she is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING LIKE ME and I hate her little smirking face that looks like her plastic surgeon accidentally snipped a nerve near her mouth so now every expression looks like she smelled a particularly nasty fart that probably came from her anyway and and I will roll over in my grave and then I will be nothing more than a pink footnote on the 2010 edition of Trivial Pursuit and all will be tears.

See what happens when I contemplate writing an entry every single day in December? Don't say I didn't warn you...

Monday, December 06, 2004

could it be? 

A post from Carol? Less than a week after her last one?

Well, sort of.

Before I go any further, I'd like for y'all to say a few prayers/keep in mind/send positive mojo to the parents of one of my friends. In keeping with not wanting to document the lives of others unasked, I won't say her nickname (though she has been mentioned here a few times), but her parents were in a very bad car accident over the weekend and the last time I spoke with her she was, naturally, very shaken up and flew back home to be with them. I don't know what their current status is. I'm not the type to pray at the drop of a hat, but I have been praying for them almost non-stop since I heard. I know some of y'all aren't the praying types, what with being atheists and all, but please at least keep them in your thoughts. I'm of the belief that every little bit helps.

Thank y'all for that.

In other news, I'm still sick, still trying to rest up. Which is what I did all weekend long. Rest, nap and watch the rest of Firefly.

(BTW, I can't believe I missed it the first time around, I'm happy that TheFirst lent me his DVD set and I'm eager for the movie. Unlike most shows of this sort, there's no one man I've fallen in crush with. Normally it would have been Wash, 'cause he's cute and funny and all, but his near-absence of eyebrows disturbs me. Oddly enough, I'm most drawn to Mal, even though I almost never go for the pretty lead guy. I'm really liking Zoe, though. Gina Torres didn't do much for me in Angel, but she's all kinds of kick-ass in Firefly. Yowza! Oops, got off track there, now where was I? Oh yeah...)

So. Anyway. Today isn't going to be a full-fledged post exactly, but I wanted to say that I will be posting more often over the next month. Mainly because I once again joined Holidailies. Which means starting tomorrow I have to do my damnedest to post every blessed day.

Oh. My. G-d. What have I let myself in for?

Friday, December 03, 2004

i'm home... 

...and, as I wrote to a couple of people last night, I am literally sick and tired. There was little sleep to be had, though a plethora of rain, cold temperatures and booze-on-the-company seemed to fill the gap quite nicely. I knew sales people could be a little on the crazy side, but I had no idea how much they love the fermented juice of the grape. And the hops and barely. And the potato. And whatever Jagermeister is made from (Jager bombs are quite nasty).

Then again, the fact that we were staying in a dry county seemed to bring out the rebel in all of us. We managed to stay quite wet as a result.

More tales to be told later, but let's just say that when the 80+ year old founder of the company stands up to kareoke with you to a song he doesn't know, congratulates you on a rousing kareoke rendition of "Harper Valley, P.T.A." which had the whole room of 30+ sales people hollering their support and knows who Nelly is, well, it certainly sets the tone for the entire company.

And now time for me to go into work (a little late, granted, but I let my reps know since I needed the sleep - colds suck, as do long plane rides with colds). This day is going to be fun. And yes, that was sarcastic.

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Carol/Female/36-40. Lives in United States/California/Los Angeles/San Fernando Valley, speaks English. Spends 40% of daytime online. Uses a Normal (56k) connection.
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United States, California, Los Angeles, San Fernando Valley, English, Carol, Female, 36-40.

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