dysfunction is my middle name.

i woke up & remembered i had a blog, or, "i am not a happy camper."

2007-03-28T03:17:00.000-07:00

it's the middle of the damn night & i can't sleep. i picked up a journal...one of many that i keep lying around just in case some brilliant f-ing idea enters my brain, but they're mostly used for to-do lists and random crap that needs writing down.

so i opened a journal & started writing, "i am not a happy camper."

i thought it was a catchy title for a journal posting until i realized i'd never actually been camping a day in my life, and have no idea what might cause a camper to become unhappy. whatever causes this camper unhappiness must be pretty damn bad because the phrase wouldn't be so catchy if it weren't.

anyway, as my hand began to cramp because i do so little writing by hand anymore, i remembered i had a blog.

i know it's been almost a year since i've posted anything (as i've been reminded). and i'm back in the middle of the night (with a half-broken "Y" on my keyboard, mind you) trying to think of what else to say other than "i am not a happy camper."

maybe i should go camping.

and i didn't even barf

2006-05-26T23:10:00.000-07:00

i knew a little more than a year ago that i had to write a speech for the graduation ceremony at the college i work at. it's not because i hold a position of any importance, but i do hold a position that has write a speech for graduation.

so i thought about it for, oh, about a year.

and started to give it some serious thought about a month ago.

strangely enough, i've not blogged for the same amount of time.

and i didn't type out my speech until last night.

(the night before graduation.)

so tonight, i gave my graduation speech.

and it was, without doubt, one of the coolest fucking things i've ever done in my life.

even cooler was the fact that, although the college i work at lies directly under a major flight pattern in & out of SFO and our graduation exercises are held outdoors, no planes flew by while i did my speech.

okay, the coolest part was that i didn't barf immediately after addressing a group of 3,000 people.

YAY ME.

rock the casbah

2006-04-24T17:01:00.000-07:00

rach: blah blee blah blah blah blah blay...
rock the casbah, rock the casbah

K: are you feeling ok?

rach: i'm listening to alice
rach: blah blee blah blah blah blah blay

K: i'm glad someone's in a good mood today

rach: i love that song

K: are there supposed to be words there?
K: or is it instrumental?

rach: they're words
rach: and they sound like blah blee blah blah blah blah blay
rach: rock the casbah, rock the casbah
rach: i don't think i knew the words to any of the songs i listened to in the 80s

K: now i can't think of what [the real words to that song] are!!!

rach: i never knew what they were

K: you blah-ed them out of my brain!

rach: yay me

K: you're just goofy

speaking of being grown-up

2006-04-21T14:15:00.000-07:00

i'm afraid of the dark.

but not as afraid as i used to be, when i was, say...4, or 14, or 24...or, well, 30. i'm definitely not AS afraid of the dark since i turned 30. but, still.

with earth day nearly upon us (and in northern california, we should just hurry up and make it a holiday already since i never seem to get cesar chavez day off), i feel compelled to turn off the lights when i leave a room to conserve energy.

(if you're filipino & you don't know the meaning of "turn off the lights," i really mean "close the lights." these americans speak weird english, i know. they also don't tabo in the banyo, so go figure.)

when i was but a wee lass of four (occasionally the irish filipino in me slips out), my cousin joseph had me convinced that the boogey man lived upstairs in his house and it was dark up there because they didn't want to wake him up. actually, his whole family played along because they didn't want people wandering in & out of their bedrooms. eventually, i figured out the boogey man was just joseph hiding under a bedsheet shooting paper airplanes at me, but i couldn't get past being afraid of the dark.

now that i'm a wee bit older than four & a few decades, i still turn on (open) every light i pass when i enter my home, and they generally stay on (open) until i go to bed, at which point i turn off (close) the lights, having already plugged in & turned on (opened) the nite lites in the bathrooms & hallways, and run up the stairs with a quickness, hoping the real boogey man doesn't catch my feet and drag me back down the stairs into the fucking dark where paper airplanes will be shot at me from all angles and i'll pee my pants. not that it's happened...yet. i'm just sayin'.

i hate the fucking dark.

in my defense, i conserve water, i recycle, & i try to buy as many recycled goods as i can. the earth day gods up above will probably forgive me for leaving a light or two on (open) until i'm good & ready to sprint up the stairs and jump into bed. besides, i only use energy-saving light bulbs, so it's really like i'm saving the environment by leaving the lights on (open).

fuck it. i'll just send some extra money to the sierra club.

grown-up car

2006-04-20T22:37:00.000-07:00

{read with whiny undertone} i wanna buy a new car. i wanna, i wanna, i wanna.

a new, shiny car with all sorts of gadgety, electronic crap.

a grown-up car.

my friend K bought a new acura RSX (of the brand-spankin' variety) a few weekends ago and she asked me to tag along with her to the dealership knowing full well i'd be drooling over my current grown-up car of choice (and wanton need), the acura TL.

the TL's got a shitload of cool, gadgety electronic crap and it's a real looker, too. but i just can't see myself paying $40,000 (msrp + shitload of cool, gadgety electronic crap & v6 trim level w/ nav) for a car.

and the entire time i was at the dealership with K, leaving smudged noseprints on every TL they had out on the lot, NOT ONE SALESPERSON asked if i needed help or even asked if i maybe just wanted to take a closer look at one. THE BASTARDS. perhaps it's a sign that i'm still not grown-up enough for my grown-up car of choice.

{again, read with whiny undertone...and this time, picture me stomping my foot down a few times} but i AM grown-up. i am, i am, i am.

yeah.

anyway, not really sure how to proceed. the TL is a little out of my price range to keep car payments close to what i've been paying on my nearly paid off '01 accord v6, given its trade-in value & the amount of money i feel comfortable putting down for a new car. i've decided my other options are to look at:

the accord ex v6 with navigation,
the accord hybrid with navigation,
or a pre-owned TL (with navigation, of course).

unfortunately, i don't like the body style of the current accords and i don't like knowing that someone else's ass has broken in the seat of my grown-up car of choice. (and no, i'm not giving up the navigation system.) i'm picky, i know. but i want what i want.

so somebody tell me what to do. and if i don't like your advice, i'll ignore it, because that's the grown-up thing to do. (you might also call it being passive-agressive. whatever. same difference.)

job fairs are where you get free stuff

2006-04-18T13:10:00.000-07:00

i wandered through a job fair today that was being held at the college where i work and i was transported back in time one decade to my senior year in college (or at least one of my senior years in college) when we were encouraged to go to job fairs and seek out careers "in the real world." at the time i was a business major with a CIS option at the university formerly known as csu hayward.

they told us in our program that we were highly marketable, and with silicon valley just down the freeway, we would have no problems finding jobs. i had plenty of practice doing on-campus interviews and figured job fairs would be no big deal.

so i wandered into my first job fair thinking all i needed to do was throw my resume at people and i'd get a signing bonus on-the-spot. unfortunately, i treated the whole experience like i was going to the mall, and sought out retailers (apparently blocking from memory the quarter i spent sleeping through sales management), hoping that if i landed a job someplace where i like to shop, i'd get a totally sweet employee discount.

so i was totally distraught when the rejection letters came in the mail from the gap and macy's and i couldn't give a flying fuck that oracle wanted to interview me at their corporate office.

if you couldn't tell, i was a real shithead in college.

eventually i found a job in education & technology, and aside from the fact that i'm a state employee with a governor who doesn't support educational initiatives and yet can't pronounce "california" without halfway sounding out the word "cauliflower," i'm happy.

so when i stopped at the table for target and let the nice lady tell me about the all their lovely opportunities for employment, i thanked her for her time and told her i was just there to get a free pen.

(and it's a damn good pen, too. i should've taken two.)

turn your children into stamps

2006-04-17T19:29:00.000-07:00

i received an invitation to a baptism the other day from that chick i don't really know whose baby shower i ended up going to last february at the behest of my mother and golly jeepers, did i have a keen time that day!

anyway, it was a nice gesture for her (whose name i still don't know as the inkjet-printed return address label got fucked up in the rain) to send me an invitation, although i must say i found her choice of postage interesting:

i just don't know if i like the idea of my child's face getting postmarked. and i don't even have children.

stamps.com offers a service called photostamps where you can upload an image and then order postage by the sheet, 20 stamps per page. it's a great idea in theory, but the sample postage on their website doesn't show what any of these stamps would look like after they've been run though a postal meter and canceled with huge streaks of black ink that mar a substantial portion of the image.

i'd suggest this to dave to go with his custom checks, but i don't like how these stamps get totally ruined by going through the mail.

so i'm thinking, wouldn't you be better off taking that same image--or maybe one where the baby didn't look like she was scared half to death, but again, not my kid so whatever--and making return address labels instead? you can order some decent-quality address labels (that won't wash off in case your mail gets rained on) from iprint for a lot less and save from having mean people like me blog about your weird baby stamps.

i took the liberty of mocking up a sample label for our friend thor over at danes' dyke. women aren't welcome there, but maybe he'll find a nice lady penpal if this thing with raine doesn't work out. (he is inscrutable, after all.) and address labels always come in handy. they're cheap enough that he can even label his entire 8-track collection.

no, i really haven't thought it out much farther than that. shut up.

sunday reading

2006-04-16T18:04:00.000-07:00

woo hoo! my taxes are done. irs agents be damned.

on the way home from my target therapy session (a remedy for the undue stress caused by several failed attempts to complete my crapping taxes), i stopped at the library to pick up a book i had on hold and found this literary gem, shining like the north star on the used book carousel. i knew immediately that i had to have it.

the title says it all:

i let out a big "HA!" and went to the reference desk to give them a quarter for the previously owned 1976 harlequin romance.

you can't go wrong with a book whose back cover reads:

"'Women aren't welcome at Danes' Dyke,' the inscrutable Thor Halden told Raine; nevertheless circumstances forced him to take her under his roof and to persuade her to masquerade as his wife for a time. Even before she found herself falling in love with him, it was a difficult situation for Raine. Would she ever be able to make him trust her?"

the guy on the cover who looks like a cross between the construction worker from the village people & the brawny lumberjack's scottish cousin twice-removed is named THOR and he's described as being "inscrutable." the chick's name is RAINE. they're at a place called DANES' [freakin'] DYKE.

and the first page alone makes references to tattoos, pylons and sheep shelters.

it's bound to be a classic.

it's a good thing

2006-04-15T08:52:00.000-07:00

...that i have 2 extra days to figure out where all my crap is so i can do my taxes.

i'm sitting on the floor in the middle of my living room surrounded by a small sea of paper and apparently i'm missing a few pieces of vital information. now, i could either a) make [scientific] guesses about the stuff that i need to report based on what i do have or b) go on a mad search through house for what i actually need or c) just don't report it at all and claim ignorance.
i guess i'll be turning my house upside down. did morgan stanley even send me a statement of what turbo tax is asking for? what did i put on my returns last year? fuck all if i can remember.

i hate doing my taxes.

i'm going to target. i always feel better after going to target.

what to do, what to do

2006-04-14T11:15:00.000-07:00

i took a vacation day today because, you know, it's a holy day & all for us catholics (well, that was the reason i gave at work, anyway)...and dammit if there isn't anything good to watch on tv.

i did happen to catch the end of jakers! (gotta love kid's shows about talking irish farm animals) and i would've seen the entire episode had it not been for the book i picked up and tried to read.

i could've actually gotten farther in the book if i hadn't kept picturing one of the characters as the guy that shrek turned into when he took the 'happily ever after' potion that he stole from the fairy godmother in shrek 2. it was sorta difficult to concentrate on the story after that. i kept waiting for donkey & puss in boots to show up, and well...damn.

and the andy griffith show doesn't start until noon.

barney fife is my idol. well, him & darth vader.

good friday mass isn't until 7:30 tonight.

what to do, what to do...

speaking of mass, i feel compelled to share the horrors of my holy thursday experience with you. this mass involves a ritualistic tradition of washing of the feet, and i've never taken part in this ritual--for good reason. so last night, stations were set up all over the church and altar servers were charged with hauling pitchers of tepid water back and forth, as well as bowls for the "used" water. bowl after bowl of dirty, cloudy, murky, used water was trucked to the back of the church to be poured out in the kitchen area immediately behind where i was sitting. it's a wonder i didn't barf all over the people around me (which was probably due to some type of divine intervention, because i was pretty damned nauseous).

well, that's all i had to share.

i guess i'll have an early lunch.

beyond all believable bounds

2006-04-12T22:53:00.000-07:00

i found this on gvod and didn't believe it to be real. then i found a wikipedia entry and even a website. i swear this is one of the funniest things i've ever seen in my life.

and it just gets funnier every time you watch it. trust me.

hoops & yoyo

2006-04-12T10:38:00.000-07:00

i had the following e-mail exchange yesterday with T, who i consider to be my life partner (although she's married and lives some 3,000 miles away with her husband in some foreign land called ann arbor, michigan-- although we do make a cute couple if i do say so myself):

To: Rach
From: T
Subject: Funny As Hell
And hell isn't really that funny, but this Hallmark thing is...
www.hoopsandyoyo.com

To: T
From: Rach
Subject: Re: Funny As Hell
holy shit, that's us!

To: Rach
From: T
Subject: Re: Funny As Hell
I WAS THINKING THE SAME THING!!!
If we'd had the genius to start e-cards, this would be our line!! Dangit!

if you know the both of us, and even if you only know me, you'll know that this hoops & yoyo thing is a complete rip-off of our lives. we should sue hallmark. either that or embrace the hoops & yoyo-ness of our beings.

the gadgets are out to get me

2006-04-11T08:43:00.000-07:00

it's a conspiracy.

yesterday morning, my laptop decided to make friends with some malware and i spent the greater part of last evening trying to extricate the evil bastard. no amount of process-killing and registry crap-deleting seems to help. i may need to hold an exorcism at my house this evening. all are invited.

my ipod, connected to my machine at work yesterday, decided it would randomly go into "disk mode" and won't respond to manual resets. after disconnecting the unruly ipod, my machine decided to slow to an evil crawl. it's quite obvious that the two must've been in cahoots.

and to be an absolute shit, my treo keeps resetting (HARD, instead of the kinder, gentler sort of reset that doesn't upset me as much) every time i try to open files through documents to go. it just goes to figure that one of the files i'm trying to open is a blog entry that i started composing eons ago. lord knows what type of brilliance has been lost to the annals of my treo's memory.

i imagine that at some point, the word will spread around my household and the microwave & washing machine will conceive some evil plot to kill me dead.

i better watch my steps.

UPDATE 9:44 PM - i think the malware problem is under control. hopefully. the exorcism was called off in the nick of time. and my ipod finally responded to a manual reset. took more than one, though, because after that first one, it said i had ZERO songs and only 11GB (out of slightly less than 40GB) left of space. after about the fourth half-ass reset, i see music. gotta load the latest ricky gervais podcast.

you live, you learn

2006-04-10T23:31:00.000-07:00

so yeah, i took a sort of random "break" from blogging that somehow ended up lasting for 2 weeks. it wasn't planned...i just got amazingly overwhelmed & i suck at dealing with being overwhelmed.

i vaguely remember dealing with it by doing a lot of sleeping.

the week before last i spent glued to the hip of a contractor who was hired to perform a system upgrade at work. a few hours after his arrival i decided that he was husband material (further supported by the fact that he was indeed married) and dedicated the week to creating my little fantasy world, feigning interest whenever he made the odd remark about his wife or children. i mean, he was both geeky AND modest. of COURSE he's married.

[sigh.]

and now he's gone & i'm left writing user documentation, that evil byproduct of system upgrades.

i decided to redirect my energy the following week towards getting ready to go to my first indian/bollywood concert/show with my friend D last saturday. there was much hindi music to digest. many colors of bangles to buy. i grew out my nails. i did my hair. i look totally cute in indian clothes & coordinating accoutrement. (okay, i probably don't, but i felt cute. same difference. shut up.) unfortunately, i didn't meet the man of my dreams at this concert, either.

0 for 2. oh well.

you live, and you learn that many of the good ones are either married or already have marriages arranged for them.

such is life.

dear S,

2006-03-27T18:03:00.000-08:00

(this post started as an e-mail reply to my friend S and i've been such a sod for waiting so long to write to or call her, so i've decided to make this post a reply to her e-mail.)

web sudoku has utterly pissed me off. it told me i was way below the curve for solving the easy puzzles. SCREW YOU, WEB SUDOKU. i've moved on to playing sulite on my treo which is like the easiest game ever because it gives you so many hints, you're basically cheating, and you solve the puzzle every time. that's my type of game.

anyway, i'm really sorry i haven't even sent so much as even a little text message to ask how you were doing. i suck. i'm a bad friend. i feel the same shame my cat does when she poops on the carpet. hmmm...poor choice of visual. something else to apologize for.

i can use the "i've been busy" excuse, but that just isn't a good enough reason, as i've been able to post random thoughts to my blog on a fairly regular basis, but i do think about you often and hope that you're doing better every day.

i got your thank you card in the mail a few weeks ago and didn't acknowledge its arrival. so here 'tis: thank you for the thank you card!

i've purchased many little doodads and stufflikethatthere to make you a card, but it might be more expedient to just send you all the supplies and have you make your own card. (i'd NEVER do that. you know me. i'm far too lazy to even do that much.) come to think of it, i've also lost that skein of yarn i was saving to make you a scarf. maybe i'll get really creative over the weekend and make you BOTH! (okay, again, you know me. not gonna happen.)

anyway, if you're not too tired of movies yet, i was going to send you a short stack of bollywood flicks from my stash to check out. either that, or i'll go back to amazon and find you another spike doll. (actually, i'm totally tempted to send you a full-size spike cardboard cutout.)

[insert evil laughter here.]

anyway, i miss you...even though i don't call, write, e-mail, or even text. think good thoughts and keep your nose clean. i tell myself this every morning. i don't know if it does me any good, but i say it anyway.

love,
rach

we're not all imeldas

2006-03-26T20:33:00.000-08:00

i was doing my shopping at the filipino grocery & i saw a woman with these shoes on today.

they bothered me. they were ugly & pretentious. (not that i have anything against expensive shoes in general...i think it's reasonable to pay a higher price to get something of higher quality.)

there are plenty of non-gaudy shoes out there that don't have the coach logo stamped all over with weird, contrasting sheepskin trim.

they just seem totally impractical. but maybe she's just that rich & important to merit the purchase of impractical shoes.

i highly doubt it, though. the sort of rich & important people i'm thinking about probably wouldn't deign to do their own grocery shopping. especially not in the middle of pinoy suburbia. but then again, i don't know any rich & important people. (important, maybe, but not rich.)

i come from pinoy suburbia, after all.

stirring

2006-03-24T12:24:00.000-08:00

i was standing at my kitchen counter this morning, stirring soy milk into my chai, when i had a flashback to my childhood in the 70s, mixing tropical punch kool-aid and tang into a frothy mess with my toy blender. i remember naming my magical concoction "tutti frutti."

i clearly thought i was a genius way back then. boy, did i impress those kids in the first grade. i knew stuff.

of course, i was also the kid in the first grade who continually got in trouble for picking my nose.

nobody's perfect.

you are what you eat

2006-03-23T10:45:00.000-08:00

i had yogurt for breakfast this morning. i was about to put a spoonful of yogurt in my mouth and there was a cat hair sitting on top of the yogurt in my spoon.

to preface what i'm about to say: you can usually find me covered in a thin layer of cat hair, because i have two constantly shedding furchildren (a term stolen from shawn, thanks) and i keep those tape roller thingies in my car & in my desk so i can de-fur when i get into work. those things never get all the cat hair off, but at least it's enough that i'm not a wandering ball of pet dander.

so it's no wonder that there was a cat hair in my yogurt. black on one end, white on the other end. typical. i decided that it was either dig the hair out and get yogurt on my fingers, or don't bother and eat the yogurt, stray cat hair & all.

i've spoken to other cat owners about this, and we all concur. it's no big deal to ingest cat hair. not large amounts of it, mind you. the errant hair is generally thought of to have no consequence if periodically consumed.

it especially makes sense when you put it into perspective. i was meeting with one of the myriad of managers i report to and she was having lunch at her desk. she was eating a salad, and when she was done, she licked her plastic fork clean and then put it in her desk for future use. i've known her for quite a while. she's probably been using the same fork for that amount of time.

at least i know better not to do that.

weaving is for baskets, not for driving

2006-03-22T09:45:00.000-08:00

this is the cow that tailed my ass for about a mile trying to get me to speed through an area that's a known speed trap.

what's funny is, everybody else but her knew about the speed trap, so she couldn't pass because we were all moving at the same speed...a mere thirty-five (yep, 35) miles an hour.

eventually, we got past the speed trap area and she started weaving through morning commute traffic on surface streets, thinking she was making good time.

shortly before i turned off into the parking lot at work, she hadn't gotten much farther than me. in fact, she really only moved one car futher. right in front of me.

so i grabbed my phone & took a picture of her car when we were stopped at an intersection (note the "baby on board" sticker on the rear bumper). if you're ever in the area, avoid her car like the plague. she's a maniac.

and if you're this type of driver, YOU SUCK.

(sorry, btw, if you've got that song from flashdance in your head. if it's any consolation, i do too.)

tagalog word of the day

2006-03-21T18:18:00.000-08:00

hormonada

(slang) n. homosexual male who wants to have big breasts.

this tagalog-english dictionary is one of my greatest purchases EVER.

how not to park

2006-03-19T11:07:00.000-08:00

i live in a townhouse complex with not a whole lot of visitor parking. we're fortunate however, in our little section of the complex, to have a cul de sac-ish type of area that provides a little extra visitor parking, and we're also near the intersection of two main streets, which means there's plenty of street parking really close by as well.

sure, it's a slight inconvenience to park your car a few yards farther than you'd really care to walk, but i betcha g.i. joe & mcgruff the crime dog would both tell you that it's better than making up your own illegal parking space.

this is the second weekend in a row that the moron who drives this truck has parked perpendicularly to a vehicle that is parked correctly (evidenced by it's being parallel parked along the curb, between the white markers that denote an actual parking space).

since it's a sunday and my townhouse association is closed so i can't complain to them (again) about the morons who park this way, blocking the path in the cul de sac-ish area that leads to our little driveways (and more importantly to have this shithead's truck towed), i've called the police, who will probably arrive a few hours after the moron has already left.

i chose this option after determining that slashing the moron's tires or covering all the moron's windows with duct tape would probably be counter-productive.

i'm such a good citizen. i deserve some type of award.

i'm paying attention, really

2006-03-17T11:19:00.000-08:00

i'm in south city for a workshop this morning. workshops suck. they suck in a different sort of way than webinars or conference calls.

on the other hand, conferences rock. especially when travel is involved. better food, better venues, and better goofing off can be accomplished at conferences. this, however, is not a conference. it's just your plain, old, run-of-the-mill sucky workshop. suck, suck, suck.

i'm at the best western just past SFO (on south airport blvd., NORTH of the airport). this place is like a glorified motel 6. i imagine they do a lot of traffic school sessions here.

this conerence room is full of mirrored walls. i spotted a guy sitting not too far behind me who, from this angle, looked pretty darn cute. he just got up & walked past me and dammit if that reflection didn't tell a lie.

i wonder if that mirror trick works both ways. everytime i catch a glance at my own reflection, i look like hell.

someone's cell phone just went off & their ringtone is set to speed of sound by coldplay. gotta grab that cd when i get home. i wish someone would call me & get me the hell out of this session. i should've taken a seat in the back.

the people sitting around me seem to be engrossed by the non-stop blabbering of this moderator person. why don't they appear to be as bored as i am? they're making me look bad. (or worse, considering i look like hell to start with.)

i wonder if anyone's caught on to the fact that i'm not actually listening, rather blogging and periodically looking as though i'm fully engaged by smiling at the moderator & nodding my head. i hope she doesn't ask me a question. god, that would suck. i don't even remember what the name of this session is.

hmmm...should've grabbed an extra croissant at the breakfast bar and put it in my purse for later. is that ghetto?

i think i'll check my fastrak balance now. the idiot transponder never beeps when i cross the san mateo bridge. damn thing.

fuck you, blogger

2006-03-16T22:17:00.000-08:00

i've been trying to post one fucking entry for like the last half an hour and every time i try, i get an error.

blogger, why have you forsaken me?

carsick

2006-03-15T23:21:00.000-08:00

all my life (or at least for as long as i can remember), i've been highly susceptible to motion sickness. i don't travel well. a double-dose of dramamine is my best friend when traveling by plane, train or automobile.

in college, i found it extremely difficult to do any kind of research that was on microfiche.

a few years ago, i came pretty damn close to throwing up on my six-year-old nephew on the spongebob squarepants ride at great america.

at stoplights, i often get headaches if i focus too closely on the cars passing through the intersection in front of me.

i remembered all these things & more* while i was driving to walmart today with my friend D. i noticed that she had a stack of mail in her hand, and the word "macy's" on one of the envelopes caught my eye.

then i thought, "OH CRAP. I JUST READ THAT WORD."

and that's when the headache began.

and the nausea hit.

luckily, i hadn't eaten yet, so i didn't have anything in my stomach that could possibly come up in a projectile manner.

unfortunately, i hadn't eaten yet, so i didn't have anything in my stomach and all it could send up was the horribly bitter taste of bile.

i grabbed a pack of gum as soon as we got to walmart. (for future reference, one can fit an entire pack of dentyne ice arctic chill in one's mouth if two pieces are inserted at a time.)

D was there to find a housewarming gift for someone. she debated way too long over which set of dishes to buy.

i could feel the second bout of nausea coming on.

i wandered off to find myself a bottle of sprite. i must've finished that before we left the store, because i don't remember ever paying for it. come to think of it, i never paid for the gum either, but the people that work at that store are lucky i was able to keep it all down.

boy, there's nothing like the post-nausea toxic burp induced by a bottle of sprite & a pack of dentyne ice.

and hey, thanks for letting me share.

* friends reading this post need not call me tomorrow with more examples of times that i almost barfed. memories of the teacup ride at disneyland and the evil, speeding elevators at the shearaton waikiki still haunt me. don't even start in with the veils. i need some more sprite.

may the force be with me

2006-03-14T08:38:00.000-08:00

it will never cease to amaze me how stupid drivers in california can be when it's raining.

i've driven in a handful of other states in rainy conditions and californians are the worst when it comes to dealing with wet roads.

the people who are generally jerk-off drivers to begin with turn into supreme assholes who get super impatient in the rain because the conditions are forcing other drivers around them to slow down to a safe speed. you see them coming in your rearview, barreling down the road, weaving in & out of traffic, cutting people off without so much as even signaling. they're the same people who drive through large puddles with the sole intent to drench all the unfortunate people waiting at the bus stop.

it's times like this that i wish i had an x-wing fighter. a few proton torpedoes would do the trick, turning those assholes into little tiny bits of nothingness. i figure if one x-wing can take out the entire death star, then it sure as hell can handle the rigors of dealing with california drivers angered by inclement weather.

it was friday & i was catholic

2006-03-14T01:31:00.000-08:00

friday nite, i went to a birthday dinner for a friend, K, at a restaurant in the city across the street from the beach.

the weather was total crap, so i decided to bart over with my friend D. C agreed to pick us up from the station closest to the restaurant on his way from work at SFO. he got stuck in traffic caused by the total crap weather, so D & i were stuck standing outside the station, huddled together under an awning, trying not to get struck by lightning in the big, metal-clad structure that was the south SF bart station.

eventually C came & saved us and we headed beachward, down the great pacific highway. on the way there, the three of us bitched & whined about having to drag ourselves all the way over to south city just to have dinner with K, when we all live on the other side of the bay.

and then we got to the beach chalet.

holy crap, what a cool place.

trendy bar downstairs, trendy restaurant upstairs, both overlooking the ocean. we all started downstairs. i started a tab for C, D & myself. i ordered drinks for them, a glass of chardonnay & a midori sour, then ordered an amaretto sour for myself & finished it quickly at the bar. then i ordered a second for myself & brought them their drinks. we finished those off, then i returned to the bar to close my tab, only after ordering a third drink that i again, finished quickly at the bar. for good measure, i ordered one more to have with dinner.

we made our way upstairs and i weaved over to a seat in between C and K's sister's boyfriend, whose name i could not remember. i did ask him, however, what he was going to have for dinner a total of five times. he was very patient, and told me every single time that he was having the chicken. he further proved his patience by listening to me tell him, probably more than five times, that it was friday and i couldn't have meat because i was catholic.

i then proceeded to ask everybody else at the table what they were having. and followed up by telling everyone that it since it was friday, i couldn't have meat because i was catholic.

the room started getting really warm after that. or maybe it was just me.

appetizers were ordered and a big plate of calamari appeared out of nowhere. i thanked the seafood gods for remembering that it was friday and i couldn't have meat because i was catholic. i then told everybody that i could have this because it wasn't meat, which was great, because it was friday, and i couldn't have meat because i was catholic.

K's mom started looking at me funny after that. couldn't tell you why.

our orders were taken and i went for the fish & chips. i felt the need to explain to the waiter (who looked like adam levine from maroon 5) that it was friday and i couldn't have meat. because i was catholic.

he seemed to understand. what a nice guy.

C & D decided they needed to pee. that sounded like fun, so i tagged along. for a split second, i couldn't tell which figure on the door had the dress on, indicating the ladies'. luckily, D was ahead of me, so i followed her. had she not quickly closed the door on the stall behind her, i would have tried to crowd in there with her. instead, i peed alone. i told D that it was friday, so i couldn't have meat, since i was catholic. she ignored me.

we got back to our seats in time for the food to arrive. i noticed that K and the guy who's name i couldn't remember switched seats.

i wonder why.

i ate my fish & chips, drank down my last amaretto sour that was totally watered down by that time, and watched the heathens around me consuming their poultry. well they would have been heathens, if they were catholic.

K was on his third drink called a tsunami-something-er-other, and he was getting pretty toasty along with me. there's nothing like having a warm gay man rub up against you. C was sitting on the other side of me, but he wasn't all that warm, so he was useless.

K, C, D & i planned a future outing to a mediterranean restaurant in the castro for sometime soon. i haven't been to the castro in a while, but as long as D is there, it evens out the gay man to fag hag ratio in our little group. i told them that if we decided to go out on a friday, i can't have meat, because i'm catholic. they totally understood. what good friends they are.

then we had cake, served by maroon 5 guy, followed by hugs & goodbyes that were shared all the way around. K's mom asked if i was going to make it home okay. i don't know why she asked, but what a nice lady to be so concerned.

C & D argued all the way back across the bridge. i crashed in the back seat.

by the time i got home, it was way after midnight. i grabbed myself a piece of chicken out of the fridge.

a reasonably good time was had by all.

to buy or not to buy

2006-03-12T19:40:00.000-08:00

i need to buy something. itunes offers instant gratification, but i've put myself on an itunes budget, so i'm trying to limit myself to purchasing just one album.

currently in my itunes shopping cart:

back to bedlam - james blunt
beat space nine - m-flo
blink-182: greatest hits - blink 182
call off the search - katie melua
dilwale dulhania le jayenge (soundtrack)
kiran ahluwalia - kiran ahluwalia
pride & prejudice (soundtrack)
the rising tied - fort minor
the story goes... - craig david

i think i've narrowed it down to either craig david or fort minor, but really, i'm tempted to just click 'buy album' on the lot of them.

acknowledgements

2006-03-12T16:02:00.000-08:00

to the man beside me & the woman behind me at mass this morning:

please don't sing at the top of your lungs. contrary to what you may believe to be true, both of you have voices that could curdle milk. christians generally believe that god is around at all times, so there's really no need to try and "aim" your voices toward heaven. i'm sure he can hear you just fine if you sing quietly to yourselves. he probably even heard me cursing you out over & over in my head to try and drown out the sound of your god-awful voices.

when we're praying, stay on pace. just because you can recite the nicene creed at top speed, it fucks me up when i'm trying to follow along at the rate that everybody else is going. you don't win a prize for finishing first, so slow the hell down. there is no 'i' in team.

to the man, specifically:

cut your damn fingernails. i've had the displeasure of sitting next to you once before, and i see that after a few months, you still haven't gotten around to finding yourself a nail clipper. now, because it's a custom at our church to hold hands during the our father, the people who sit next to you have no choice but to accept your hand, crusty, thick, yellow fingernails and all. and please don't squeeze my fingers with your nasty ass hands. that's just gross.

to the lady, specifically:

why the hell can't you ever remember to turn the ringer off on your phone BEFORE you get to church? maybe if you used a slightly smaller purse, perhaps you could find your damn phone a little bit easier (because it always seems to ring during mass) instead of rummaging through that suitcase that you're currently carrying.

and to the big guy, up above:

help them, please. and help give me the strength not to kill them if i have to sit anywhere near them again.

tagalog word of the day

2006-03-11T10:12:00.000-08:00

my new tagalog-english dictionary arrived yesterday from amazon. i opened the book to a random page & came across this gem of a word:

bulból: n. pubic hair; armpit hair.

now i can share my recent experience with my family and use the correct terminology. they'll be so proud.

i can't wait to find out if there's a tagalog word for nose hair. my thirst for knowledge is unquenchable.

the flashing beacon of hormonal imbalance

2006-03-09T22:27:00.000-08:00

out of the eight hours i am required to spend at work, six and a half hours of my day today were spent in meetings, exemplifying the hell that my week has been.

yeah, i know. whatever. we all get busy.

but one should never be so busy, however, to neglect checking in-between meetings what one's left on one's desk, especially when one works in a cube.

and one should always ensure that any item taken out of one's bag, particularly if it is of a personal nature, should always be placed back in said bag before leaving for an extended period of time.

especially when that item is a tampon.

because tampons, apparently, do not blend in very well with the rest of the accoutrement one would usually find on a desk.

now, perhaps it was the fact that TAMPAX was printed all over the bright, white paper wrapper in big orange letters that just might've given the item's identity away.

or maybe, it it was the fact that it was sitting on top of a maxi pad.

smack-dab in the middle of my desk.

like a flashing beacon of hormonal imbalance.

you know how well your friends know you

2006-03-05T21:21:00.000-08:00

...when they hear phrases describing excretory functions & send them to you via e-mail.

"drop the kids off at the pool"
British Slang; Verb phrase. Euphemism for defecation.

used in a sentence: "I cant even think about eating breakfast until I've had a cigarette and dropped the kids off at the pool."

thanks, M, for hearing this phrase & thinking of me. i'm touched. i'll find a way to work this into a conversation at work tomorrow.

coincidence?

2006-03-05T19:38:00.000-08:00

is it any coincidence after the song it's hard out here for a pimp from hustle & flow was just performed by the three 6 mafia, that:

queen latifah was chosen to announce the academy award winner for original song (which this song won, btw)
during the performance and acceptance by the artists for their award, they've managed to flash the face of every black person in the audience?

or maybe i'm just a paranoid person of color.

in edwardian times

2006-03-04T21:54:00.000-08:00

i'm a sucker for british period pieces. so when pbs ran a reality show based on an upstairs, downstairs type of existence called manor house, i watched it intently and loved every minute of it. i felt like watching it again, so i rented the whole series and just spent the last six hours watching all the episodes back-to-back.

i didn't catch this comment the first time i watched it, by the pompous ass of a husband about his good lady wife:

poor woman doesn't try very hard to groom herself properly, can't hold very coherent conversations, and obviously isn't much more than a bimbo in real life. but isn't it great that her husband is proud of her and even said so on the telly?

what a guy.

beyond cold

2006-03-03T09:21:00.000-08:00

i dismissed the meteorologist who said on the news last night that it was going to rain like hell overnight and then be turn-yer-bollocks-into-icy-ballcicles cold the next day, because when i looked out my window this morning, it looked like the sun was getting ready to come out and warm the tiny patch of earth that i inhabit.

it's causal friday, so i decided to wear my old navy microfleece yoga pants & matching hoodie (otherwise known as "sweats" to most men), which would keep me warm on most february mornings in northern california, but not on this particular morning. a morning when i should have heeded the words of the friendly meteorologist who was just trying to do me a favor.

i was not prepared for the freezing cold as i got out of my car in the parking lot at work that hit my aforementioned nonexistent bollocks that would now be freezing solid if i had them. the sun is now completely hidden behind big, ugly gray clouds and wouldn't you just know, it's pouring rain again...which i vaguely remember the meteorologist saying, will probably turn into hail at some point later on today.

i work at a college, so a few buildings away from the one i work in is a bookstore that sells highly overpriced sweatshirts and sweatpants emblazoned with the school's logo, so for around & about $100 i could be kitted out with an additional (and much-warmer) layer of clothing. i'm now debating with or not it is ethical to send one of my poorly paid student workers to go out in the freezing rain with a signed check & my staff ID to retrieve warm clothing for the boss lady. and hey, they can even get themselves a piece of beef jerky.

how wrong could that possibly be?

tales from the toilet

2006-03-02T16:04:00.000-08:00

have you ever walked into a stall in a public restroom and been welcomed by a pube on the toilet seat?

i'm sure it can't just be me, because i've had this experience on more than one occasion, in various public restrooms in different places.

it makes me shudder to think of the possibility that there are people out there who don't bother checking the toilet seat before going about their business & who may have been needlessly subjected to unnecessary contact with someone else's pubes.

but how could you NOT check the toilet seat before sitting down? you've got the paper seat cover to deal with, so you can't help but notice what's ON the seat when you're putting the thing down, because you've got to make sure it doesn't collapse in the middle and fall into the toilet bowl. (and that takes SKILLS.)

unless you DON'T use the complimentary toilet seat covers when you're in public restrooms. and if that's the case, please stop reading my blog immediately and learn some hygiene, for chrissakes. you're probably a pube-leaver-behinder.

yeah...so anyway, i had an unfortunate pube-sighting on my last trip to the toilet here at work (which needs a key to get into, thus narrowing the possible list of culprits down to my female co-workers), so i took radical measures, using one toilet seat cover to brush the suspect pube into the toilet bowl, after which i flushed, and then placed three more seat covers down after i knew the thing had been sent on its way out to the bay. there's something about the sight of that scraggly, wiry hair that just grosses me out. i mean, how does it even get there?

i can only assume that the person who used the pot before me had her bare ass on the seat (hence the need to use several toilet seat covers). that alone gives me the willies*. i don't like the fact that someone decided they could go and plunk their uncovered cootie-ridden hindquarters down on something that the rest of us have to use as well.

and while she was sitting there, skin to seat, did a random pube just decide to shed itself right then & there? was she so totally unaware of her crotch molting that she didn't feel the need to check for fallout?

she's probably the same type of person who poops & leaves a floater behind.

that's just bad toilet etiquette.

so the next time you're finishing your business in the bathroom, do us all a favor. even if you used the protective (and complimentary, mind you) toilet seat covers, check for toilet critters. check the seat, the bowl and the area surrounding the base of the toilet. be vigilant in the search for any toilet-critters you may have inadvertently left behind.

DARE to be AWARE.

* i don't actually know what "willies" are, but i've heard other people use the phrase and it sounded right when i typed it. so if you can define that for me, i'd appreciate it.

lose something?

2006-03-01T16:32:00.000-08:00

to the owner of a "1-pounder" bag of santitas yellow corn tortilla chips left on a chair outside of my office door:

can you please come & get 'em?

i gave up junk food for lent.

thanks!

rejoice, for it is ASS wednesday!

2006-03-01T11:32:00.000-08:00

with every other filipino catholic in the corner of the town that i live in, i went to church this morning & got my ashes. i was entertained by the common filipino mispronunciation of the word "ash" throughout the service. we were told to respect the fact that from ASS we came and to ASS we will become again...ASSes to ASSes & some such like that there.

then mass ended and i had to drive home a bunch of old filipino women, because apparently my mother offered rides to all of her friends. (turn right...no wait, not here, the next street...oh, no, i meant left...)

this made me later than i expected, so not much goofing off could be done before work. i ran one errand and dragged myself into the office trying to take the least traveled walkways to get to my door.

i make a point of not meandering the hallways on ash wednesday so as not to draw attention to the charles manson-like black mark on my forehead. i don't mind so much having to explain what the smudge means, but i don't like it when i'm approached by someone who licks their finger with the intention of cleaning off my dirty face. (really, it happens more often than you'd think.)

so here i sit, craving prime rib, london broil, baby back ribs, and waiting for lunchtime to come to eat my poor little tuna omelet. after lunch, i'll stare longingly at the candy in my darth vader candy jar for dessert.

happy ASS wednesday, ya'll.

holy crap, what am i going to give up for lent?

2006-02-28T22:32:00.000-08:00

i don't ever really look forward to going to church, but i do like having that excuse to come in late to work because it's a "holy day of obligation."

i make no claims to being particularly christian, so i don't do the whole lenten thing to score points with god or anything. and the abstaining from meat thing on ash wednesday & the fridays during lent is something i do more to respect the culture i grew up in, as opposed to the religion that my parents chose for me. likewise, giving something up for lent is more of an excuse to see if i can do without something that i really like, but could do better without.

with that said, tomorrow is ash wednesday and i need to decide what i'm going to sacrifice for the next 40 days. i asked friends for ideas, and i got two suggestions that make me wonder if they wonder about me having issues.

1. i should give up telling potty jokes & other toilet-related stories.

let me preface this explanation by saying that bathrooms are great for having ephiphanies. i plan my day in the shower every morning and often re-work strategies while i'm sitting down on the pot. for a period of time a few years ago, i was sending daily e-mails to friends entitled tales from the toilet, where i'd share random thoughts that entered my head while i sat in the stall, and these messages would usually start day-long discussions about everything & nothing. one of my favorites was inspired by a greeting card i once bought for someone that had drawings representing the various ways toilet paper can be wadded up in preparation for the cleaning up portion of your visit to the pooper. i won't go into detail, but you're probably thinking right now about your own t.p.-wadding technique.

sadly, i needed to stop sending out my tales from the toilet when a guy i was dating forwarded my messages to people at his company and i started getting random pictures of toilets from people i didn't know. freaky bastards.

the e-mail version of tales from the toilet has been replaced, however, by me walking down the hall & sharing my epiphanies with co-workers (and then going back to my desk to write about them in my blog).

2. i should give up loitering outside the men's restroom.

(this is indirectly related to the previous item.)

okay. i didn't think anyone actually noticed that i did this, but the guys i work with have these really loud conversations in the bathroom and they have absolutely no clue that anyone standing outside the door can totally hear every word they're sayin' in there. granted, i'm sure they don't expect that someone's standing outside the door, listening to their every word, but that's the beauty of it. today, co-worker "X" was overheard saying to co-worker "Y" (immediately after the sound of a flushing toilet), "wow. i'm glad that came out well."

the other reason i hang outside of the men's restroom is that the women's restroom is right next door and i've been known on occasion to have a pee race with a male co-worker if one of them happens to be walking in at the same time. the winner gets bragging rights for efficiency, and you forfeit if you neglect to wash your hands. i've tried to get some of my female co-workers to play this game, but they think they can't win. take it from me: women can pee just as fast as men...just depends on how badly you have to go.

(maybe i'll start playing "race the flush" again. it's been a while, and it can be a single-player game.)

so anyway, back to what i'm actually going to give up:

i've decided my 40-day sacrifice will be candy & other sugary crap along the same vein, and i might throw french fries into the lenten sacrificial fire, although i don't actually eat them enough to consider it much of a sacrifice. the idea isn't very original for me, having given up junk food about every 3 years or so since grade school, but it'll be hard to resist temptation nonetheless.

anyway, i better get some sleep. i've got to get up early tomorrow morning to get smudged by a priest and then run errands on my way to work with the smudge as proof that i actually went to church, thus justifying my tardiness. i'm milking this holy day for all it's worth.

amen.

absorbing pit putty

2006-02-26T11:51:00.000-08:00

throughout the month of february, boing boing has been posting various transit maps where people have renamed the stops using anagrams and i've thoroughly enjoyed all of them. yesterday, boing boing posted a re-worked map of the BART system that serves the sf-bay area:

my favorite anagram has to be the oakland airport/coliseum station that appears on this map as loud pork caramelisation. if that ain't funny, nothing is.

the map they display inside the trains just won't look right the next time i get on at thursday whoa to get to new tweed brooklyn.

and just so you know, the next time you fly into san francisco, the faa scorns in a alteration trip.

oh, and the real BART map can be found here.

if baby showers suck, filipino baby showers suck more

2006-02-25T13:35:00.000-08:00

filipinos have a reputation for amassing large volumes of decorative knick-knacky crap that they shove into every shelf, bookcase & random orifice in their homes, making their houses look almost exacly the same as they did in the philippines, minus the moskiteros (mosquito nets) over the beds & the banigs (straw mats) covering the floors.

my mother & i were invited to a baby shower for the stepdaughter of one of her friends. i originally planned to just drop her off because i absolutely loathe showers of any type and those who attend them, but to be polite, i'm being forced to stay for a little while because simply "making an appearance" apparently ain't gonna cut it.

so i'm sitting in the living room of this gaudily-decorated filipino home on a leather couch that i'm certain had to be purchased from one of those asian-owned cheap-ass furniture stores where they sell sofas that aren't actually meant to be sat on but rather used to fool visitors into thinking you can afford expensive furniture, and on most days are covered in vinyl unless there's company, like today, at which point the vinyl is peeled off, with the hope that nobody will spill some greasy filipino food on it & fuck it up.

i only know a handful of people here, all of whom are over the age of 60 and apparently engrossed in some deep conversation with my mom. and for some reason, the chick who the shower is for remembers all this crap about me like we've been best buds for years, but i swear i've never met her before. how the fuck does she know me? and more importantly, what's her damn name?

so i've got my treo with me, and i've already checked for new feeds on bloglines, but it's the weekend, and most new posts usually don't appear until monday morning. luckily, i kept new karla's latest post, which was an absolute scream, but that was only a temporary distraction from the crowd of strangers complaining about how the people who own this house aren't around to change the station to the filipino channel. (i'm sure you know what channel it is. change it your own damn self.)

until i can make a break for it, i'm going to sit here & blog.

the house smells like most filipino houses on a party day...like they've been cooking all night & probably most of the day before. it's not always a good smell, let me tell you. no matter how much you try to air out a house, you always know when someone's been cooking goat. (and fuck it, wouldn't you know, someone just went & plunked down next to me with a plate full of that nasty, gamey-smelling, rubbery meat.)

god i can't wait to fucking leave.

in the meantime, i'll just sit here, staring at the funky glass tulip lamp, the pig made of plaster, the vase shaped like someone's ass in a pair of jeans (filled with dusty plastic flowers), and the brightly-colored plush parrot. i'm trying my damndest not to barf from the wafting, stomach-turning aroma of stewed pig innards & various unidentifiable deep-fried proteins of questionable origin.

UPDATE (3:45 PM) - finally heading home. hope i make it home in time to toss my cookies.

but i don't feel like a socialist

2006-02-24T19:29:00.000-08:00

i got bored & did one of those online surveys. what can i say?

i blame the results partly on my northern california upbringing. that tree-hugging shit must be contagious. (note to self: join sierra club after publishing this post. then show all the neighbors how to grow vegetables, bake bread & sew their own clothes.)

You are a
Social Liberal
(60% permissive)
and an...
Economic Liberal
(11% permissive)

You are best described as a:

Socialist

The Politics Test

things to do when you can't sleep

2006-02-23T01:40:00.000-08:00

totally suffering from insomnia tonight, so i'm up watching the olympics & copying dave's meme. i just went to MyHeritage & uploaded a pic of myself to see which celebrities i might possibly resemble. i'm not totally enthused with the results, but at least i didn't get any freakishly horrid matches.

so this is the picture i used:

my top three matches were a bunch of asian people i didn't recognize by face or name until i looked up who the hell they were:

yoon-jin kim (63%) - the korean chick from lost.
shigeru miyamoto (61%) - i was kinda pissed when i saw the second closest match was a guy, but he created nintendogs, and that's pretty damn cool.
zhang ziyi (60%) - the chinese chick playing a japanese chick from memoirs of a geisha who was also in house of flying daggers, hero, rush hour 2 & crouching tiger, hidden dragon.

following the not-immediately-recognizable-asian contingent were people i actually did recognize:

annette bening (58%) - i don't see the resemblance at all, but i like her. maybe that means i can meet a guy who looks like warren beatty (when he was younger...not the current warren beatty who's starting to look a little too much like george hamilton).
lucy liu (58%) - i only WISH i looked as good as her.
bill paxton (55%) - WTF?!?!?! bill f-ing paxton? and i happen to resemble that picture in particular? fuck me.
meryl streep (54%) - i guess i can deal with sorta/kinda/but hopefully not really looking 54% like her.

and now, it's time to watch curling. i mean speedskating.

taken out of context

2006-02-22T09:43:00.000-08:00

i just received the following e-mail:

Hi Rachel,
Thanks so much for the info, I know it was a long one. I had to leave so I missed the part about him pulling it. Thank You

it's not supposed to be funny, but it is.

woe is me

2006-02-21T16:34:00.000-08:00

i just got a phone call from a totally cute gay friend that i was sorta-kinda-crushing-on-in-a-totally-platonic-sense-if-that's-even-possible. he was picking out decorations for his commitment ceremony.

commitment ceremony? how dare he!

not once while we scoped out cute men to play "is he gay" (while i secretly deluded myself into believing that life with a gay man could totally work) did he ever let on that he was even seeing anyone.

i know i never had a chance, but dammitalltohell if i'm not slightly disappointed.

all the good gay men are getting snatched up by...can you believe it...other gay men!

what is the world coming to?

(i'm just bitter & jealous. don't mind me.)

UPDATE (10:45 PM): i got to punch him really hard in the arm tonight. feeling much better now.

oh yes, i remember it well. sorta.

2006-02-20T22:12:00.000-08:00

it was nine years ago.

we were at city hall. my best friend & her fiancé were about to get hitched. i was already getting kinda weepy, and the judge hadn't even started his spiel yet about "taking person A to be the person B's lawfully wedded so-&-so."

i looked at them standing there, about to take their vows, and i started to cry.

they looked at me and started laughing.

i looked at them laughing at me and started to sob uncontrollably.

they looked at me again and this time, started cracking up.

the judge waited for all of us to regain composure, finished his spiel and pronounced them person A & person B, signed the marriage license, and we left city hall.

as we exited the building, i pulled out a bag of rice krispies i had stashed in my purse and threw handfuls of dry cereal at them as we headed for the car.

they laughed at me some more for crying.

then we got in the geo metro & went to chevy's.

a good time was had by all.

the end.

happy anniversary thuh & bub!

2006-02-20T18:15:00.000-08:00

i just knew this picture would come in handy one day.

nakakatawa talaga...shyet!

2006-02-19T18:28:00.000-08:00

(this shit's HELLA funny!)

gotta love long weekends

2006-02-18T23:14:00.000-08:00

this past week was one of those short weeks: 3-day work week + one day of "staff development" activities where i couldn't get any real work done because i was too busy holding my co-workers' hands and singing kumbaya. (god i hate all the team-building activity bullshit. there is no "i" in team, but there is in the shitload of work i still have left on my desk.)

anyway, i've got a four-day weekend, courtesy of the state of california and two dead presidents.

i've already wasted two of the four days taking naps, watching the winter olympics & an occasional dvd, and making several trips to target. luckily, target stores are everywhere in northern california, so i never have to go far to spend money on all sorts of crap i don't need made in the sweatshops of third-world countries by people i'm probably related to.

so...yeah, the winter olympics. gotta support the hapa (half-breed) speedskater, apolo anton ohno. asian/pacific islander-americans in da house...WHAT UP! i cheated & looked up the results in the 1000m short track & i already know he's getting the bronze. but hey, at least i'll watch it knowing homie's getting a medal. (you GO hapa-boy!)

my mom's also been all into the olympics like she knows something about winter sports. i'm sure being born & bred in a tropical island nation gives her great insight into the nuances of snowboarding. she was PISSED when shaun white nearly fucked up his chances at getting the gold in the halfpipe. cracks me up how she gets all disappointed when the americans don't get the gold...like they let HER down. cusses 'em out in filpino & everything.

that's actually more interesting than watching the olympics itself.

so i'm sitting in this teleconference

2006-02-13T10:35:00.000-08:00

it's not something that concerns me directly, so really, i should just go back to my desk and get some work done.

on the other hand, i can sit here, read blogs and even take a moment to post something because i've got nothing to contribute to this particular conversation.

then again, i'm kinda hungry because i ran out of the house without eating breakfast. and i've pretty much finished slurping up my morning beverage (transported in a stainless steel starbucks mug, allowing a full two hours for proper cooling off, thus preventing another episode of unpleasant tongue-burning).

what to do....what to do....

[twiddles thumbs and taps keyboard for about five minutes trying to decide whether or not to be productive]

[checks bloglines for new posts to read]

[checks all personal e-mail accounts each for the umpteenth time]

[checks work e-mail to see if there are any immediate action items that need to be taken care of right this minute...nothing]

[twiddles thumbs for five more minutes]

hmmm...

la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la...

crap. teleconference ended early.

back to work.

[sighs]

an open letter to the fucking moron in the chevy's parking lot

2006-02-09T19:33:00.000-08:00

it's ASSHOLES LIKE YOU that have NO FUCKING CLUE that there are other drivers around you who CAN'T FUCKING READ YOUR MIND. i was the unfortunate driver who had to sit behind you in the parking lot wanting to get around you but was totally unable to see around your big honkin' piece of crap SUV, and was unaware that you were just sitting there in the middle of the aisle with your thumb up your fucking ass with no intention of actually going anywhere.

now please understand, knowing it will be difficult for an obtuse fuckwit like you to muster up the brain power necessary to comprehend this, that taking your foot off the brake, applying pressure to the accelerator to roll forward about a foot or so, pausing, and then rolling forward again doesn't exactly give someone the impression that you've come to a full stop. it means you're still fucking moving, asshole, in painfully small increments. and you're WASTING MY TIME.

so when you finally deigned to look in your rear-view mirror and noticed that there was actually someone behind you wanting to get by, i did not find it the slightest bit helpful when you opened your window barely one fucking inch & attempted to wave me on with just the tips of your fucking fingers because you should know damn well that no one can see around that fucking monstrosity of yours.

but i hope you appreciated the finger that i vigorously waved at you as i finally was able to squeeze by, along with the 20 or so expletives that i yelled out at you to supplement to the finger-waving....BECAUSE I MEANT ALL OF IT WITH THE UTMOST SINCERITY.

next time, turn on your fucking hazards.

please

2006-02-08T21:39:00.000-08:00

dear yahoo! employee to whom this message concerns,

can you PLEASE take this guy's picture out of the rotation of images on the yahoo! mail login screen?

his face is totally freakin' me out.

thanks.

roogolly@yahoo.com
yahoo! mail user

just feeling the need to share

2006-02-08T14:31:00.000-08:00

my underwear is of a strange cut and keeps creeping slowly down my ass, so basically i've worked most of the day so far with this panty bunch-up in the back, which defeats the purpose of wearing undies in the first place.

what's even better is the fact that i bought the mondo mega-pack of this evil underwear from costco, so now i've got this lifetime supply of totally unsuitable ass-rejecting hipsters in a vast array of colors that i'll never be able to wear.

but the best part of this deal is the inconvenience of constantly having to reach down the back of my trousers to tug on my falling underwear in the hopes that maybe for five minutes, my ass will be at least somewhat covered, and also hoping to god that nobody catches me with my hand down the seat of my pants, groping my own ass, because i REFUSE to go all the way down to the bathroom every few minutes to "make an adjustment."

i'll be having an underwear bonfire in my backyard this evening. all are invited.

given the choice, cold beverages are now okay with me

2006-02-06T10:03:00.000-08:00

i took one of my better stainless steel starbucks commuter mugs out of storage over the weekend because i got tired of my coffee/tea/hot beverage getting cold by the time i got to work, a whopping 15 minutes away from my home.

there was a reason i put all my metal starbucks mugs way the hell far away from me.

i didn't remember what that reason was until i sat down at my desk when i first got in and took a big swig of burning hot liquid that seared my tongue, the roof of my mouth and part of my throat.

it was great timing for my first meeting of the day, where i couldn't pronounce half the letters in the alphabet, rendering my speech completely unintelligible.

now if you'll excuse me, i'll be searching for an ice cube to suck on to prevent blistering.

or as i just explained to a co-worker, "ah eeh ah i cyoo."

obligatory super bowl post

2006-02-05T22:24:00.000-08:00

thank GOD the super bowl is over. i don't think many people outside of the city of pittsburgh, my ex-boyfriend (who i swear became a steeler fan to spite me), and those who had money on the game, gave a flying fuck about it. i had the tv on for background noise, hoping to catch a few entertaining commercials, but even those sucked serious ass this year.

to be honest, i haven't been interested in the super bowl since 2003 when i spent a grip of cash to get my ass to san diego only to see the raiders get spanked by the bucs, led by that jerk-off coach (who made a name for himself in oakland & then hung the team out to dry) in super bowl 37. i would've used the roman numerals for 37 but i'm too tired to figure out the combination of Xs, Vs & Is that make up the number. don't judge me.

and yet, i remain a loyal raiders fan because i believe that no matter how shitty your team is doing, you stick by them. i mean, just because the team just fired another head coach, and boy, that warren sapp turned out to be a big freakin' disappointment, and yeah, the raiders could use a new quarterback, that's no reason to jump off the albeit dusty bandwagon that hasn't moved an inch in about three years.

there IS more to life than the post-season.

because really, nothing beats getting up at the crack of dawn and piling into an SUV with your friends & a shitload of booze & food, and heading over to the coliseum just as the gates open to start drinking beer at 8:30 in the morning in a parking lot.

that's the good life.

THAT'S what football's all about.

where'd he go?

2006-02-05T18:25:00.000-08:00

i went to the cemetery today to see if my dad's headstone has been put in place. and unless i've completely forgotten the spot where he's been laid to rest, it ain't there yet.

you'd think it'd be easy enough to find him. we chose a spot centrally located between a statue, a bench, a tree, and a faucet. carmen sandiego should have it so easy.

but without the headstone, it's hard to figure out which unmarked patch of grass is my dad.

my grandpa's buried in an adjoining section, and all i know is he's somewhere in the middle. i can walk down every single row and never see his grave. i swear he's hiding from me. it's like trying to find a needle in you know, a big pile of needles.

okay. it's nothing like that.

but dad & grandpa are obviously conspiring to hide from me.

and once i find them, boy, i'm tagging their locations on a GPS.

time for a new game

2006-02-05T18:05:00.000-08:00

i saw "is he gay" guy again this morning. he must've figured out that i was checking him out last week, because he kept catching me staring at him today.

i did get a closer look at him this time. not as cute as i remembered, and i think i've got about an inch or two on him in height. now i don't care whether or not he's gay.

okay, that wasn't the object of the game.

good thing i'm not a gay man.

this game is going on hiatus until i can think up better rules.

your thoughts & comments are appreciated.

my new game

2006-02-01T17:05:00.000-08:00

i came up with a new game for those times that i'm insanely bored out of my skull. it's a single-player game & the rules are simple. it's also a great game if you're a people-watcher.

i've decided to call my game:

Is He Gay?

i played my first round last sunday, singling out a guy in a crowd who i thought could be gay.

just in case you're wondering, i decided it would be too hard to play this game using females and having to decide whether or not they're lesbians. plus, if i play the game right and find out the guy i've chosen is, in fact, 1) GAY and 2) available, then i might be able to set the guy up with one of my single gay friends. i wouldn't be fulfilling my obligation as a fag hag if i didn't at least try.

unfortunately, the results of my first round were inconclusive. i blame it all on the guy i picked. he caught my eye because he sorta resembled joaquin phoenix (and okay, honestly, i thought he was cute so it was easy to stay focused on him). but really, i swear he could've been gay.

he had on a pretty stylish jacket, but he paired it with jeans and a t-shirt. i wasn't sitting close enough to examine the state of his t-shirt. food stains are a dead giveaway for a straight guy. the jeans were average, nothing to write home about. not too tight, not too loose.

he was clean-shaven, but his hairstyle was questionable. i'm unclear on the gay hairstyle. i mean, i've seen this guy's hairstyle on gay men, but a gay hairstyle alone does not a gay man make.

anyway, without trying to look any more like the freakish gawker that i was, i tried to shift in my seat without displacing the person in the chair next to me to get a good look at his shoes. i was hoping for a nice pair of polished kenneth coles. i needed a sign.

i got sneakers. sneakers? what the hell? damnitalltohellandback.

so like i said, my findings were inconclusive. but overall, he was cute, not too shabbily dressed, and he had a nice haircut (gay or otherwise).

i give him a B+. (points deducted for the sneakers.)

(okay, that wasn't actually the point of my game, but i needed to feel like i accomplished something.)

the catholic perspective of a 12-year old

2006-01-30T09:27:00.000-08:00

so i had to attend this confirmation preparation meeting with my niece at church on saturday morning. the godparents had to do this q&a session with the kids for some reason or another. i don't know. i wasn't actually paying attention. church has that effect on people. anyway, our q&a went down like this:

what do you know about confirmation?
it's the third thingy. do you like my earrings?
they're a little too big. let's focus on these questions. what do you mean by "thingy?"
it starts with an "s". sss...sss...sss...sacrament!
good job. what else do you know about it?
that's it.
great.

why do you want to be confirmed?
i don't. my parents are making me. can we go get fries after this?
ummm, sure. so you don't want to be confirmed?
not really. but don't tell my mom.
can i tell your dad?
no. he'll tell my mom. we ARE getting fries after this, right?

why am i going to make a good sponsor?
because you're my auntie. and you go to church. because you're my only auntie who goes to church. you DO go to church, don't you?
every sunday.
really?
really. can we finish this already?
are you sure?
do you want fries or not?

how can i be more faithful in my prayer life?
by praying more. can i check my e-mail on your phone?
no.
can i check my myspace account on your phone?
no.
you can see a picture of my boyfriend if you go to to myspace.
i don't want to see a picture of your boyfriend right now. and you're too young to be using myspace.
we got in trouble for holding hands at school. don't you think that's mean?
did you know it was against the rules?
yeah.
then, no, i don't think it's mean. you're just not good at not getting caught.
what?
never mind. let's move on.

how do i encounter god?
what does that mean?
how do you contact or get in touch with god?
i talk to him in my sleep. [does strange arm movements indicating god-talk.]
can i PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE check my e-mail on your phone?
we've only got one question left, and then we can go get fries.
oh, cool. my earrings are really heavy. [removes earrings.] can you put these in your purse?
i told you they were too big.
i know.

at what times in your life do you feel god's presence most?
when someone dies. and when i'm with my boyfriend.
whoa. you're only 12. you're too young to be feeling god with a boy.
no, he prays a lot.
is that what you guys are doing when you're holding hands?
no. that's just for fun. LET'S GO GET FRIES!

nothing to say

2006-01-28T00:43:00.000-08:00

i received a call from my niece thursday nite to tell me that there's a meeting saturday morning at her church for kids preparing for confirmation with their godparents. she's the kid, i'm the godparent. (no really, that's not a joke. shut up.)

had my father not died three three months ago, thus causing my half-sibs to revert to being a group of useless assholes, i wouldn't have thought much of this phone call from the spawn of one of the evil kin.

but considering i haven't heard from the useless assholes for the same three months, i'm doubting that when i arrive at my brother's doorstep tomorrow to pick up my niece, i will be received with a hug and a smile.

maybe i'll just stop the car in front of the house and honk the horn. a honk & lurk maneuver.

i've actually got nothing to say to any of my half-sibs, although i've had several confrontations with them in my head where i'm wielding a heavy, blunt object.

is that bad?

you're right. stick with the honk & lurk.

you & your damn clichés

2006-01-27T00:14:00.000-08:00

granted, i am bilingual and understand my filipino dialect better than i speaky de english, but sometimes i just don't understand some of these weird sayings that you white people use.

also granted, in my dialect, many of our phrases strangely seem to revolve around farting. and most words used by parents as terms of endearment for their children can usually be translated literally to mean "bastard." but we're just a lowly, third-world, savage people who killed magellan and eat dogs. (point of clarification--i'm fairly certain i'm not a descendant of the guy who actually killed magellan, and i don't eat dog...at least not knowingly.)

anyway, i was sitting in a meeting today where some woman said she didn't want to "stretch the envelope" which made me sort of snort to myself because even my ignorant english-as-a-second-language ass knows the actual phrase is "pushing the envelope." but it was only a minor triumph because i had no idea what "pushing the envelope" meant.

growing up, i'd try to figure out what certain clichés meant by examining the context in which the phrases were being used. i gave up most of the time. this is why i hated reading as a child.

a few years ago, i got brave and tried to causually throw the phrase "quick and dirty" into a conversation with my (white) friend jim. i've since stopped using such clichés around him after saying we could do a "dirty quickie." he never seems to forget about this incident and tells me constantly that i'm just a slant-eye trying to sound like a round-eye. but he's from minnesota and sounds just like that betty white character from the golden girls, so he's pretty much foreign too.

anyway, pardon me, white people, for complaining about your language. i did look up the meaning of "pushing the envelope," and i'm glad to say that i may actually remember its definition for the next five minutes.

and in the future, if you have any interest in learning how to call your child a bastard in filipino, let me know. we're a friendly people like that. i've also got a screamin' recipe for some chicken adobo, and i'll gladly trade you for the recipe of something you people refer to as "casserole."

for future reference

2006-01-26T11:34:00.000-08:00

when you walk into the staff restroom and find the package of toilet seat covers on the floor because they keep falling out of the poorly-designed holder/dispenser/dealie/thingy, think twice before you implement what you think is a bright idea to prop the package of aforementioned toilet seat covers up on top of the poorly-designed holder/dispenser/dealie/thingy to get them up off the floor.

why?

because as you're sitting there, the package will fall down and hit you on the head and land on the floor in the exact same spot where you found it. it's really disconcerting when you're just trying to pee. take it from me. i have first-hand experience.

and now you know.

that was easy

2006-01-25T21:17:00.000-08:00

it was a rough day.

i was in meetings all day with a lot people who have a tendency to piss me off, which didn't help my already uber-bitchy mood.

a lot of the time, i take fake notes in meetings just to look busy. i write down stupid things that other people say so i can go back to my office mates and "share the stupidity." i couldn't get away with that today because in every meeting, there were nosy people sitting near me who kept trying to get in my shit.

so i played solitaire on my treo instead.

(note to self: find sudoku freeware on handango.)

but that's not what i'm bitching about. this time.

someone at work brought in the "easy button" that staples features in their commercials. you press it, it says, "that was easy" and then you crack up laughing. or maybe it's just me.

anyway, i ran some errands after work today and i decided to stop at staples to pick up my very own easy button.

on the way home with my brand-new easy button, i was driving through an intersection when some totally fucked up, brainless and quite obviously visually-impaired dumbass ran a red light and nearly hit me head-on.

i swerved way the fuck out of the way, kept control of the car, and thanked god for quick reflexes and for the fact that nobody was hurt.

i regained my composure, then i pressed my easy button.

that was easy.

how did you spend your weekend?

2006-01-22T18:35:00.000-08:00

i started off mine by watching dancing with the stars on friday nite. and what's sadder than just generally staying in on a friday nite is the reason i was watching this show...to see whether or not master p was going to stay on for at least another week...because i voted for him. yep, 8 times on the phone (because that's as many times as you can call in) and then once online for good measure. those judges talked smack about his dancing on thursday nite & i just felt so bad for the guy. i mean, yeah, he's clearly not suited for ballroom dance...this is painfully apparent to everyone, but you don't have to knock a guy so low. anyway, he's on for at least another week. because i voted. and yes, i AM that good. the moral of this story is: give a hoot. don't pollute. vote for master p on dancing with the stars.

i wasted most of my saturday by staying under the covers, watching tv, taking a nap, and watching more tv. i finally got out of bed at around 3pm to throw a dvd in the ps2. and then of course, i got back under the covers. it's been a fucking cold weekend. i watched the movie sarkar. it's a bollywood flick, but it's not one of those sing-songy types of movies. it's inspired by the godfather, set in india and focuses on the corruption of indian government. WATCH IT. it's a damn good movie. DAMN GOOD. it's available from netflix.

i also spent a fair amount of time watching this video in repeat mode, originally because i really liked the song, but eventually, i developed a slight girl-crush on the chick in the video. (a slightly better version can be found here.)

eventually, i had to drag my ass out of bed to take a shower & then drag my ass to my uncle's house for his birthday, where some punk-ass teenager had a piece of birthday cake, licked his fork clean and placed it down on the plate in front of me. really, who does that? apparently, this kid does that. how fucking rude. i wanted to reach over and smack the shit out of him, but it was too fucking cold and i was sitting on my hands to keep them warm. i shot evil death rays at him from my eyes instead.

(yeah, yeah. call me chicken shit if you want. you weren't fuckin' there.)

last nite, i finally took back the treo 700w that i purchased 15 days prior from the verizon store. if you'll recall, my friend c & i went on a new phone expedition two weeks back and both ended up dismally dissatisfied with our purchases. so we get to the verizon store last nite & find out that the dickhead sales guy that processed our purchases 15 days ago fucked up in a bad way. anyway, after exchanging some angry words with the folks at the verizon store, i came home with a shiny new treo 650, which i realize i should've freakin' bought in the first place. anyway, i'm a much happier camper now, only i don't go camping, and happier is only a relative term.

are we almost caught up? almost.

now, you've gotta understand that i really do like my church...mostly. i know i should stop criticizing the unfortunate individuals who have difficulty pronouncing some of the bigger words, but how in fuck's sake can you mispronounce the word "church"? more specifically, why do filipinos say "CHURTS"? i mean, you've got the first "ch" sound going on, why can't you finish off with the same sound? at what point do you decide to change it up and go with a totally different combination of consonants? the word's too damn short for anyone to fuck up.

CHURTS? give me a fuckin' break.

(and i'm not even going to start in on the woman who got to mass late, stepped on my foot and then on my purse, who was wearing a hot pink & turquoise blue windbreaker leftover from the 80s, a black & white, checkered ruffle skirt, white tube socks and yellow house slippers. did i mention she had a paper towel in her hand and kept blowing her nose into it?)

don't let this happen to you

2006-01-18T18:39:00.000-08:00

note: this post is not male-friendly. it's somewhat crude. you've been warned.

my boss called me over to her office this afternoon for a quick meeting and on the way there, i hit the restroom because i really had to pee.

i finished my business, waltzed into her office like a princess, plunked myself into a chair opposite her, and started blathering on about something like i was all that. the events that followed proved that i clearly was not, am not, nor will i ever be, all that.

so, totally unbeknownst to me, the pantiliner i had on had when i first entered the bathroom somehow managed to detach itself from where it was originally adhered, jostled down my pant leg, and found its way clinging for dear life, stuck to my left shoe.

just as i crossed my left leg over my right and came to the mortifying realization that i had a feminine hygiene product just randomly hanging off my person (causing me to turn a bright shade of "oh-fuck-me-how-in-the-fuck-did-that-fucking-happen" red), a colleague barged in on our meeting, providing the perfect distraction for me to gingerly remove the little bastard from my shoe. i formed a tightly-clenched fist around the evidence, shoved my hand deep into my pocket and quietly excused my sad, pathetic self from the room.

i'm thinking this must be payback for all the posts on blogs i've read lately where people have shared some highly embarrassing moments, causing me to thank freakin' goodness that shit didn't happen to me. but, oh well. what can you do?

i mean, pardon me for ovulating.

because someone called me a heathen today

2006-01-17T13:45:00.000-08:00

i posted this on sunday after i got home from church, but the catholic guilt got to me and i withdrew it. this morning, when my friend s called me a heathen (and i know she meant it in the nicest possible way), i decided, what the hell...let me heathe and be damned!

if you're familiar at all with the order of the catholic mass, you'll know there are always three bible readings (old testament, new testament, gospel). this is exactly how the second reading of last sunday's mass was read by some poor woman with a really bad filipino accent and a horrible lisp.

a reading prom de pirsht book ob de corintiansh

brodersh and shistersh:
de body ish not por immorality, but por de lord,
and de lord ish por de body;
god raishd de lord and will alsho raish ush by hish power.

do you not know dat your bodiesh are membersh of chrisht?
but whoeber ish joined to de lord becomsh one eshpirit wit him.
aboid immorality.
ebery oder shin a pershon commitsh ish outshide de body,
but de immoral pershon shins againsht hish own body.
do you not know dat your body ish a tempol ob de holy eshpirit widin you,
whom you hab prom god, and dat you are not your own?
por you hab been purchashed at a prishe.
derepor gloripy god your body.

a visit to the local asian grocery

2006-01-16T00:30:00.000-08:00

i had to knock a few wayward asians out of my way to get these pictures, so i hope you appreciate them, if for no other reason but that.

really, they push shopping carts like they drive. no courtesy, whatsoever.

oh, and my mother actually BOUGHT a package of the "front feet." i feel another bad goat experience coming on.

it's probably a little too late to ask you this, but...

2006-01-15T19:05:00.000-08:00

cat lust

2006-01-15T00:31:00.000-08:00

my neighbors' kids keep running up & down the stairs and since their staircase runs alongside one ENTIRE SIDE of my quaint little townhouse, i can hear the clamor EVERY FUCKING TIME they go upstairs & downstairs & upstairs & downstairs & upstairs & downstairs & it's driving me fucking insane.

but that's beside the point.

the noise woke me up to the sight of one of my cats, who was in the process of rubbing her little cat face like crazy into one of my bras.

slightly disconcerting, but at least she didn't pee on it.

no really, it's the moon

2006-01-14T19:20:00.000-08:00

i was in my backyard just now when i looked up at the sky and thought to myself, "holy crap, i gotta get my camera!" this thought was followed immediately by, "holy crap, it's fucking cold outside!"

that's one BRIGHT ASS MOON in my backyard.

toys they didn't make when i was a kid

2006-01-12T22:37:00.000-08:00

every kid's dream: a porta-potty, complete with dinky, little people to shovel and dump crap.

unfortunately, the little crap-shovelers aren't in stock at amazon. it's okay though, because amazon's got a great alternative. as a reviewer of this product so eloquently put it, "this is the perfect gift for the aspiring young felon in your life."

don't be stingy...buy some crime for your child today! (and don't forget the getaway car. incomplete crime is an utter shame.)

just because it's funny

2006-01-12T19:05:00.000-08:00

i needed to look up a word earlier, and while i was at merriam-webster online, i remembered a post i once read on the sneeze where sneeze steve compiled a list of dirty/silly words and their pronunciations. here's mine, and i highly encourage you to compile your own dirty/silly word list, bookmark your favorites, and listen to them often.

it's cool to be a grown-up

2006-01-11T18:56:00.000-08:00

i've just spent the last 45 minutes sitting on a little stool in my laundry room in front of my washing machine.

my NEW washing machine.

MY NEW, FRONT-LOADING, BILLIONS-O-CYCLES, OPTIONAL-EXTRA-THIS-THAT-&-THE-OTHER, HIGH EFFICIENCY, TOTALLY AWESOME WASHING MACHINE.

i loaded my clothes, poured wisk h.e. & downy into the compartments of the cool little tray/reservoir dealie, turned some dials, pushed a mess of buttons and then hit start.

...then i grabbed my treo & started taking pictures of the washing machine, washing clothes, highly efficiently!

...then i walked away for a moment to read the manual (because in typical geek fashion, you don't read the manual until AFTER you've established what ALL the functions are & firmly believe you have the whole thing figured out & want to check the manual to make sure you're right. anything you find in the manual that you didn't already know about is an easter egg).

...then i heard the cycle change from wash to rinse & i got all excited & ran back to watch it some more.

it was better than watching tv. it was freakin' amazing!

i love my new washing machine so much, i give it a thumbs-up. i'd marry it if it would have me.

laugh at me now, but wait 'til you get your own brand-spankin' new washing machine. until then, you haven't really lived.

why i need to go back to the gym

2006-01-11T16:46:00.000-08:00

i sat on an interview panel today for a hiring committee...for an athletics faculty member.

if you work at an educational institution, and you have the opportunity to participate on a hiring committee for the athletics department, WEAR COMFORTABLE SHOES.

part of the interview process for faculty invariably includes having the applicant demonstrate a teaching activity. to get the full effect, the interview panel acts as the students.

i did squats, lunges & toe raises, and learned how to hold a javelin using the fork, american & finnish methods. i barely escaped having to do soccer drills.

my quads hurt, as do my calves, and my right shoulder aches from an holding an improper javelin stance.

when interviewing someone for a job causes me pain, it's time to go back to the gym.

my ear is truly an exceptional organ

2006-01-09T18:48:00.000-08:00

while on a call using my nifty new treo 700w, MY EAR managed to launch:

the address book
microsoft word
sms messaging (and had even begun composing a text to theresa's sister, estefany)
file explorer
and SOLITAIRE!

is that not an amazing feat, or what?

gotta find out how to disable the touchscreen on this thing.

egg-poaching and the treo 700w

2006-01-08T10:14:00.000-08:00

i've poached an egg (two, actually) for the first time in my life. apparently, you need to turn down the heat and not have the water at a rolling boil or else the egg whites turn into puffy clods of egg foam. i'll remember that for the next time.

and now, on to a totally unrelated and absolutely uber-geeky subject:

on friday, i went with my non-michael-bublé-autograph-getting friend, c, to the verizon store so he could get a new phone. he lost his phone while traveling a few months ago, and i don't know how he's gone so long without one (although i wonder if not having to listen to me nag him was partly behind his reasoning for waiting 'til now). i tried to get him to buy the motorola razr because it's such a cool-looking phone & i'll never get one because i'm hopelessly devoted to the smartphone, so i wanted to live vicariously through him. he got a comparable phone by lg, which is okay, but i'm hoping he'll hate it and return for the razr.

anyway, while c was browsing, i was fondling (yes, fondling) the hell out of the treo 650. it's got better EVERYTHING than my treo 600. and then while c was getting squared away with his lg, i asked if they had the new treo 700w in stock, which just arrived at that store that day, explaining why they didn't seem to have any floor models for me to (here's that word again) fondle. verizon guy opened up a box and handed me the 700w and i turned it on and went, "how the hell do you work this thing?"

really, i'm not (that) stupid. i've been a palm os user forever and this is the probably only the second windows mobile device i've ever handled. so i stood there poking buttons and once i figured out where stuff was, i figured now could be the time for me to start a-movin' on up to that deluxe apartment in the sky that is the treo 700w.

i'm still adjusting to the os & i'm liking it so far, but having squandered oodles of cash on something i wasn't in dire need of, i've spent the better part of my free time on treocentral's 700w discussion board reading & posting and trying to decide if in 15 days from the date of purchase, i will keep or return the treo 700w.

if you have any thoughts on the treo 700w or have any remedies for buyer's remorse, let me know.

he'll correct me if i'm wrong

2006-01-07T17:30:00.000-08:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SCOOTER!

(something tells me it's not today, but actually two days ago, but dammit, i tried.)

schlameezel, schlamazel...HAPPY BIRTHDAY THERESA!

2006-01-06T10:59:00.000-08:00

i love you, man!

listen to some mel torme, and eat more fruit for dave, would 'ya?

oh, not again

2006-01-04T18:50:00.000-08:00

my friend, the manager who wouldn't steal some maggie gyllenhaal dna for me when she walked into his store, has had yet another brush with fame...MICHAEL BUBLÉ. the absolutely adorable michael bublé with that voice that just makes you wanna...(i know this is totally corny) sway.

MICHAEL-FREAKIN'-BUBLÉ!!!

once again, he's apparently too goddamn freakin' shy & won't rustle up the courage to go get his autograph.

MICHAEL BUBLÉ, people. do you understand how distressing this is?

if you happen to be flying through sfo and wander into the brookstone store, go punch the manager in the shoulder for me. hopefully it'll be the right guy, but either way, i'll feel better.

thanks.

gouranga!

2006-01-04T13:24:00.000-08:00

i got the strangest e-mail at work this morning. it said:

Call out Gouranga be happy
Gouranga Gouranga Gouranga!
That which brings the highest happiness...

intrigued by the word, i looked up the meaning of "gouranga" on wikipedia:

Gouranga, or Gauranga, is a word apparently used, mostly in harassing automated messages, as a sort of joyous greeting. It is said to originate in the Hare Krishna religious movement, whose founding father, Shri Krishna Caitanya Mahaprabhu, was also called Gaura, or Gauranga. In popular culture it is accepted generally as a word meaning simply 'be happy', although the literal Sanskrit translation is 'light/golden-limbed'.

with that said, everybody shake their tambourines...GOURANGA, Y'ALL!

one of life's lessons, learned

2006-01-03T21:55:00.000-08:00

i was one of those kids that used to take off in a store and hide from my mom. i'd take shelter inside a rack of clothes, watch her circle the store, and finally, when she looked really tired & pissed, i'd pop out of nowhere and scare the crap out of her.

i was quite the little asshole.

this evening, i took my mom shopping and after a whopping 5 minutes of walking into target, i managed to lose her. and you won't BELIEVE how many little filipino women there are roaming around my local target who look just like my mother. amazing.

and finally, after becoming totally annoyed and completely exhausted with throbbing, aching feet resulting from circling the store about 20 billion times trying to find my mother, she popped out of nowhere and scared the crap out of me.

karma's a bitch, man. a total bitch.

cook, strain & drain

2006-01-02T19:48:00.000-08:00

i just watched a commercial for this thing called the "pasta express." it's like a big plastic tube that you pour hot water into to cook pasta. what got me was when someone said:

WHEN IT'S TIME TO STRAIN, IT CAN BE A PAIN.

is it me, or does this sound more like a slogan to get people to eat more fiber?

just wondering.

is insomniacism a word?

2006-01-02T02:51:00.000-08:00

i really meant to go to sleep early(-ish) tonight...which was really last night, as the next day has already partially begun. it was supposed to be my practice run at getting a decent night's sleep before i start back to work on tuesday.

(crap. i have to go back to work on tuesday.)

anyway, just before i should have gone to sleep, i got to listening to the ricky gervais podcasts on guardian unlimited (which you absolutely MUST listen to, specifically episode 4 from last week...gotta love goat references) and at some point i actually recognized how tired i was and consciously decided to ignore the feeling and go have some chai.

so there was that, and i just finished crocheting like my billionth scarf. i don't know what the hell i'm going to do with all these scarves. i consider them to be more like swatches, and if i like the pattern, i'll consider making something bigger, like a blanket, but i'm very non-committal and hate starting large projects. i can finish a scarf.

would you like a scarf? really. i've only got one neck.

so yeah, back to why i can't sleep: ricky gervais, chai and crochet.

and reading back that last line to myself, i'm realizing how pathetically i've spent the last few hours when i could have been sleeping, so verily i go, beddie-bye.

*yawn*

do laundry like a man

2006-01-01T19:56:00.000-08:00

happy new year, y'all

2006-01-01T00:22:00.000-08:00

here's to a having a better year than the one that just passed.

cheers!

(theresa - tell your mom i remembered the red chones!)

it's all in your head

2005-12-28T14:32:00.000-08:00

you only THINK you're watching a movie, but it is purely an imaginary film.

taken out of context

2005-12-26T21:36:00.000-08:00

"i have random ants."
--k

said the night wind to the little lamb

2005-12-25T15:18:00.000-08:00

the choir at mass couldn't decide whether or not to use 'see' or 'hear' this morning, which resulted in a delightful rendition of "do you sear what i sear?"

makes you want to go home and brown some meat.

baking with julia

2005-12-24T13:24:00.000-08:00

so i was watching the show "baking with julia" just now and the guest chef chickie was making these totally complex desserts which looked really good, until i saw the rather large WART on her hand.

ewww.

just thought i'd share.

rumor has it

2005-12-24T09:25:00.000-08:00

rumor has it that christmas is right around the corner. i've seen very little evidence to substantiate this bit of gossip, but that's what i hear, anyway.

i decided not to do christmas this year. after losing my dad and dealing with all that crap with the evil, selfish, totally fucked-up half-sibs, i'm quite content treating christmas like it's just another day.

i've done no shopping for presents. i've done very little shopping since my dad died, actually, which totally goes against my nature. any shopping i've done has been mostly to buy mourning clothes.

woo-hoo.

everybody says that first round of holidays after you lose someone really close to you is always the hardest. i'm finding that i really miss my dad, but that's been no different than any other day since he died, although the hoidays do seem really weird. after my half-sibs basically disowned me & my mom, which prompted us to spend "outcast thanksgiving" with my cousins, i found the whole experience to be really odd. it wasn't the thanksgiving i was used to spending...you know, with those assholes i used to be related to.

yep, not dealing with that for christmas.

anyway, my dad really didn't care for christmas...or other holidays, for that matter, where he had to deal with his "other" kids. he tried to stop spending the holidays with them when i was younger, but my mom wouldn't hear of it.

you got your wish, dad. merry christmas.

so close

2005-12-23T11:47:00.000-08:00

my friend c just called in a total frenzy from the store he manages.

maggie gyllenhaal and peter sarsgaard were just in his store & bought a pair of binoculars.

i announced to my friends last nite on the drive home from the movies that i have a total girl-crush on maggie gyllenhaal.

but did c get her autograph? anything? strand of hair so i could make my own maggie gyllenhaal out of her dna?

NO.

all he could tell me is that peter sarsgaard is totally hot in person and that he was tempted to tell maggie gyllenhaal that he just saw her brother's bare ass last night on a big screen.

oh well, such is life.

i wish i could quit you

2005-12-22T23:29:00.000-08:00

damn that nathan lane. he went on the today show this past monday and totally clowned brokeback mountain, which was really funny at the time, but it ruined me for watching this movie.

to contribute to my ruination, he also did a musical rendition of brokeback mountain to the tune of "oklahoma" on letterman last night.

so i went to see brokeback mountain in berkeley tonight with my friends c, m & m's nephew s, and as great as the movie was, i couldn't get nathan lane's voice out of my head, twanging, "i wish i could quit you."

it was SO distracting.

m cried & i tried not to laugh when jake gyllenhaal uttered the magic words. a totally emotional moment, completely ruined.

i wish i could quit you.
(hey, it's STILL funny. go figure.)

chicken tikka masala & $5 tuesdays

2005-12-21T23:09:00.000-08:00

went to the movies last nite with my friend d at a theater that in my college days was known as the super saver, but in its current iteration, has become the naz8 cinema, showing asian movies (mostly bollywood/hindi-language flicks with random non-indian-but-still-asian movies showing once in a blue moon).

it's been ages since i've been to that theater, although i do go to the bookstore just around the corner from it all the time. i had absolutely no idea that if i had walked just a few stores down, i would have seen that a good chunk of the shopping center has been transformed into a little piece of india.

the old soccer shop has turned into an indian beauty salon/sari store/bollywood video shop. the old pizza place is now known as the masala grill (which serves some damn good chicken tikka masala...damn good). and the old super saver, of course, is now bollywood central.

extremely cool.

loved the movie, btw. after much debate over the past week about which movie to see, we ended up seeing bluffmaster, starring (my guy) abhishek bachchan and (d's guy) riteish deshmukh. i'm ashamed to admit that i now understand enough hindi that i can sit through a movie without depending upon subtitles. i'm like the immigrant who learns english by watching tv. or like tom hanks when he played that guy in the terminal who taught himself english by comparing a tourist guide in his language to the same one in english.

just like that. but in hindi. hai na?

ok - so the only downside was that we went on $5 tuesdays and the movie was only in its 2nd week, so it was totally packed. nobody would choose a freakin' seat. people would get up & other people would snag their seats. much confusion and arguing (in hindi) ensued. d said the crowds of people in the aisles made it look like a mumbai marketplace. then we scanned the crowd for guys wearing turbans (sardars). she said pinching someone in the arm upon sighting one was supposed to give you good luck. i think she made that up, but i can use some good luck for a change, so what the hell. i got in three pinches. she only got two. she would have had three, but two were for the same guy.

anyway, even if you're not into bollywood, you gotta check out the bluffmaster soundtrack. the music is totally cool. it'll make you want to get up and shift your shoulders to & fro in an alternating fashion. i do it all the time, and i don't even need to be listening to music. it's great fun. try it sometime.

oh, and if you have a recipe for a good chicken tikka masala, let me know.

trevor's here!

2005-12-21T21:18:00.000-08:00

just got a call from my girlfriend kat.

just in time for christmas, i have a new nephew!

pictures to follow.

didn't i just see this?

2005-12-19T23:06:00.000-08:00

i turned on the tv for background noise when i got home earlier. i generally keep it on pbs because it's fairly quiet and every once in a while, something cool is on.

okay, that wasn't the case tonight, because the last show that just ended was about people who like to dress up & re-enact historic battles. (okay, it's not cool unless you're totally into that stuff, and i respect that. i mean, if i could find a reason to wear my darth vader costume other than at halloween, i'd totally be up for it.)

anyway, at some point, that show ended because that coldplay performance i was waiting for the other night is on again.

now that's cool.

it'll keep me busy until leno comes on. it's monday night. headlines. it's all about headlines.

(boy, that chris martin sure does hop around a lot when he dances. you gotta wonder what he & gwyneth paltrow look like when they cut a rug.)

it'll also keep me distracted from the awful itunes experience i had earlier today.

(some of you have already had the pleasure of listening to me whine about this earlier today, so you can stop reading here. if you'd like to relive the experience with me, then read on.)

damn you, itunes.

for about a month now, i've been trying to download from itunes an album by nusrat fateh ali khan (who's famous for qawwali music). everytime i've gone to my shopping cart in the itunes music store to try and purchase the album & download it, i've received the message, "changes are being made to this album" or some other punk-ass message to that effect. so today, i was discussing this album with a friend of mine, and i decided once again to try downloading this album. when i brought up itunes, i got that famous "a brand-spankin' new version is available, you want it?" message, so i figured, what the hell, newer is better, right?

and even better, after i updated itunes & restarted my machine, i was able to download the album. coolness.

so then i went to burn a cd of my newly PURCHASED music.

itunes told me i wasn't authorized to touch the album i just bought.

fine.

i deauthorized & authorized.

itunes told me i wasn't authorized to touch the album i just bought.

fuck.

so i did that de/authorize thing once more, and finally, i was able to burn a cd.

which failed.

so i restarted my machine & tried it again.

i ended up burning a cd that plays one whole song, cuts the next song 20 seconds short & then ejects.

it's a good thing i really like that first song.

so i spent a good chunk of time at the ipod discussion board on the apple website hoping someone else has had this problem and knows how to fix it.

good news: LOTS of people have had this problem.
bad news: it's happened to most people after an itunes update, and no, nobody's been able to fix it.

i said it once, and i'll say it again. fuck.

oh well, time for headlines.

she's TEN, i tell you...TEN!

2005-12-19T20:42:00.000-08:00

got a small package from my family in etobicoke today. it included a dvd of my cousin's daughter's 18th birthday party, or to be more specific, her debut (pronounced to us flips as deh-boo, and known to you non-flips as a cotillion).

when the HELL did my niece turn 18?

the last time i saw her, she was dragging me around eaton centre trying to convince me to buy some obscenely expensive purse. i told her she wasn't old enough. now that was only...hmmm...that was in...it was...eight years ago. she was TEN.

when the hell did she stop being TEN?

i hate age. i suppose there's nothing you can do about it. it just happens. you have no control.

maybe i should buy her an obscenely expensive purse for coming of age.

maybe not.

maybe i should buy myself an obscenely expensive purse to comfort myself in my old age.

a old lady can always do with another obscenely expensive purse.

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, JENNY!

i'll send you a picture of auntie's new purse. one day, you'll understand when you're old & bitter like auntie.

honey, it's freakin' cold outside

2005-12-17T21:48:00.000-08:00

i just spent an ungodly amount of time searching for blogger hacks. i decided against making any changes because everything i found to do required way too much effort.

it's the weather. too damn cold. i can't think when it's this cold.

(i know theresa's reading this and thinking i'm a total wimp because it's like ass-cold in ann arbor right now. and please don't ask me what ass-cold is. it just popped in my head. just go with it.)

i passed on going to the office christmas party tonight to stay home parked on my recliner under a short stack of blankets. my big plans are to watch coldplay on pbs tonight & drink some tea. that chris martin is looking less like a holocaust survivor now that he's grown his hair out a little bit. if i'm still awake afterwards, i'll continue my futile search for things i won't do to my blog.

yep, big fun.

oh, before i forget:

i did have minor success in my quest for blogger goodies when i came across a site with a button maker that i used to create this cute little badge. you can find the button maker at http://kalsey.com/tools/buttonmaker. go make one. now.

this made my day

2005-12-16T11:32:00.000-08:00

someone at work who was aware of my "fondness" for the king recently came across & saved this envelope for me because she knew i would appreciate the postage. i gotta say, it's totally made my day.

i present to you, THE KING:

and the letter came from micronesia, of all places. to be specific, the envelope was postmarked in colonia, which is a city in the state of yap.

greetings, elvis fans of yap!

sent

2005-12-08T23:58:00.000-08:00

i've just sent an e-mail to the evil half-sibs inviting them over to my house on saturday.

now, please excuse me while i go & vomit.

[please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come please don't come]

exhausted

2005-12-08T23:12:00.000-08:00

it's been a long, damn day.

went to church again for the THIRD time this week. damn i'm good. and of course, i ended up sitting behind yellow-green madness lady (this time wearing purple sunglasses with equally large-honkin' lenses). i was able to recognize her from the spice girls lanyard hanging out of her purse.

and then this lady who i couldn't stand when i was a regular church-goer a few years ago went and plunked her ass down in the seat next to yellow-green madness. i couldn't stand this woman because she had this totally annoying habit of turning around to see if anybody was looking at her. apparently, she still has that same annoying, fucking habit. man, i can't stand her. i kept trying to shoot her evil, dirty looks whenever she'd turn around in my direction. when it came time to offer each other the sign of peace, i purposely snubbed her. i don't wish her peace. she doesn't give me any when she sits in my line of vision at mass. i swear, if she ever sits in front of me again, i'm gonna hit that cow in the back of the head with a missal book.

that's what they're there for, aren't they?

gotta love holy days of obligation.

anyway, this excursion to mass this morning caused me to go into work late, and therefore, stay at work late, which made me late in going to the grocery store to buy ingredients for the dish which will be my contribution to a holiday luncheon sponsored by the IT department at work.

i just finished making two batches of rum balls, and i only ate one rum ball in the process. okay, i scraped the sides of the bowl and licked all the spoons, but i disciplined myself this time. i'm usually pretty wasted after the first batch, but i think this time i was just too tired to get into the rum. plus, that plastic "traveler's" flask i bought of captain morgan's totally threw me off. (traveler's flask my ass...it's the same size as a regular bottle. nobody needs to be "traveling" with that much rum.)

and now, my passive-aggressive self needs to compose an e-mail to those bastard half-sibs to invite them to the 40th-day dealie that mom & i are hosting on saturday. (my mom told me i needed to call them, but THE HELL I WILL. e-mail works just fine.) you're invited, by the way. whether you're a friend, or just a random person who accidentally happened upon my blog, i'd certainly prefer your company to that of those selfish, asshole relations of mine.

dammit, i'm tired.

(not too tired to force myself to stay awake to see george clooney on leno. darnit if he isn't still as cute as he was on the facts of life.)

you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have the facts of life, the facts of life...

is this true, or what?

what was i saying again?

2005-12-06T19:18:00.000-08:00

today is the 40th day. my mom made me take her to mass this morning.

i think i had an epiphany at church this morning, of all places, but i'll be damned if i can remember what the hell it was that dawned on me, all of a sudden. outta nowhere. BAM.

it's gone now. i bet it was good, too.

this is the problem with having epiphanies in church. i get distracted. not that i have many, but my church is not very conducive to epiphany-having.

case in point:
not many people go to the daily 8am masses at my church. the regulars are mostly old filipinos who make mass the official start of their day. so there's this baket (ilocano for old lady) sitting two rows in front of me. she had on this long wool coat that was mostly yellow with a very faint tinge of green. if you can think back to your 48-count box of crayolas, it was like yellow-green or green-yellow...whatever...it was the color of one of those crayons that you tried to avoid using because no matter how hard you'd grind the crayon onto the paper, you could hardly see the color. like the crayon was working against you. it was crayon sabotage, dammit. i used to set them aside in their own little section of pointless, stupid crayons. think of them as the crayon dunces, if you'd like.

anyway, while i was mulling over these thoughts floating around ever-so freely in my head, the baket turned around. and dammit if i didn't bite my tongue as hard as i could when she turned to smile at me and all i could focus on were these huge-ass orange sunglasses she had on. i mean, we're talking a good 4 to 5 inches in diameter for each lens here. with thick-ass orange frames. ORANGE. back in the day, she would've given elton a run for his money. does anyone else hear "don't go breaking my heart," or is it just me?

so i politely smiled back at her. (really, i'm not mean on the outside. not that mean, anyway.)

and i think it was during the yellow-green/green-yellow & orange madness that my epiphany came to me and then disappeared.

(cornflower, by the way, was the most frustrating crayola crayon to me as a child. it's such a pretty blue stick of wax, but it's crap on paper. utter crap. and while i'm on the subject, was it just me, or was that crayon sharpener built into the box with the dull plastic blade pretty useless as well? i mean really, you might as well have just used a damn spork.)

have a safe trip to heaven, dad. love ya.

dysfunction is my middle name.

i woke up & remembered i had a blog, or, "i am not a happy camper."

and i didn't even barf

rock the casbah

speaking of being grown-up

grown-up car

job fairs are where you get free stuff

turn your children into stamps

sunday reading

it's a good thing

what to do, what to do

beyond all believable bounds

hoops & yoyo

the gadgets are out to get me

you live, you learn

dear S,

we're not all imeldas

stirring

you are what you eat

weaving is for baskets, not for driving

tagalog word of the day

how not to park

i'm paying attention, really

fuck you, blogger

carsick

may the force be with me

it was friday & i was catholic

to buy or not to buy

acknowledgements

tagalog word of the day

the flashing beacon of hormonal imbalance

you know how well your friends know you

coincidence?

in edwardian times

beyond cold

tales from the toilet

lose something?

rejoice, for it is ASS wednesday!

holy crap, what am i going to give up for lent?

absorbing pit putty

if baby showers suck, filipino baby showers suck more

but i don't *feel* like a socialist

things to do when you can't sleep

taken out of context

woe is me

oh yes, i remember it well. sorta.

happy anniversary thuh & bub!

nakakatawa talaga...shyet!

gotta love long weekends

so i'm sitting in this teleconference

an open letter to the fucking moron in the chevy's parking lot

please

just feeling the need to share

given the choice, cold beverages are now okay with me

obligatory super bowl post

where'd he go?

time for a new game

my new game

the catholic perspective of a 12-year old

nothing to say

you & your damn clichés

for future reference

that was easy

how did you spend your weekend?

don't let this happen to you

because someone called me a heathen today

a visit to the local asian grocery

it's probably a little too late to ask you this, but...

cat lust

no really, it's the moon

toys they didn't make when i was a kid

just because it's funny

it's cool to be a grown-up

why i need to go back to the gym

my ear is truly an exceptional organ

egg-poaching and the treo 700w

he'll correct me if i'm wrong

schlameezel, schlamazel...HAPPY BIRTHDAY THERESA!

oh, not again

gouranga!

but i don't feel like a socialist