DISCLAIMER: Alright, I actually wrote and posted this film review a few days ago. However, I removed it because I think that the writing sucks and it's too long. I'm going to repost it though because I feel bad that Skaht and I have been lazy about updating this thing and I know that we have a few readers out there. So, here's my shitty post about a movie:
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It’s pretty rare when I feel compelled to write a film review. That’s mostly due to the fact that I don’t really like movies. However, if Skaht manages to have me sit through one and I like it then hey, great. If the movie sucks then we’ll probably discuss why it sucked, be done with it and there you go.
This time it’s different because, well, here I am writing a film review. Last night, we watched The Haunting (1999 version) and it was so retarded that I was inspired to actually think about it long enough to mention it here. Seriously. This film is retarded. Retarded.
…I like saying “retarded”.
Anyway, I’m going to provide spoilers here, so if you actually want to spend $5 at Blockbuster and rent this thing, stop reading. I don’t know why you’d want to do that, but hey, I’m warning you anyway.
At first glance, I was actually psyched to see this movie. It looked like a classic haunted house type of tale which I really like. So, when Skaht and I found it, it didn’t take long to figure out that this was the film that we would use our free rental coupon on. After a dinner of Christmas left-overs and white Zinfandel champagne, we put it into my trusty PlayStation 2 (it doubles as my DVD player) and got comfy on the couch.
Shortly after the movie begins, Eleanor (a woman who has been confined inside, taking care of her dying mother for years), gets a call from an unidentified person, informing her of a sleep study that she should participate in. The details are vague, but in the paper, she learns that she would receive room, board and a $900 stipend per week. Not too shabby!
Some insignificant stuff happens next and then before you know it, Eleanor is on the road to the location of the study. After driving to the destination and consulting her map, she figures out that the huge, hulking mansion/castle in front of her is the correct place. The first image of the mansion/castle was so massive and fake looking that I began to wonder if this movie would end up being a huge CGI cheesefest. As the movie kept going, I realized that I was right.
Eleanor meets the caretaker and his dour, old wife who quickly informs her that once the night comes, no one will be around to help her should she need any assistance IN THE DARK. The wife repeats the same foreboding phrase to Theo (the next study participant), after she arrives as well. Theo is more interested in showing Eleanor her Prada boots and playing out her clichéd New York bisexual hot girl vibe, so she doesn’t really pay much attention. After this scene, an annoying super-anxious guy shows up and this completes the arrival of the study participants.
The three study participants meet the doctor in charge of the study plus his two assistants. Both assistants leave the mansion and never come back after one of them receives a facial wound from some supernatural force. How they leave is a mystery as the gates have been locked shut by the caretaker (and they remain locked after everyone tries to escape later on.) The house itself is gigantic and ornate and very fake looking – with lots of trap doors, heavy sculptures and a revolving, mirrored ballroom. The three ‘patients’ take to their rooms and have a few questionable things happen (these are supposed to be scary things, but they aren’t.) and then they go to bed. Meanwhile, we learn that the doctor isn’t concerned with studying their sleeping habits. Rather, he is interested in learning about how they cope with fear. Wow, what a jerk!
As the movie drags on, creepy things start happening to Eleanor and everyone starts questioning her sanity. Then, they blame the doctor for rigging up the house to make them all scared when they learn about the true intention of the study. Things change, however, when the good doctor himself is almost drowned by a blood spewing fountain sculpture in the greenhouse – making it undeniable to everyone that the house is insane, not Eleanor.
As far as scary imagery goes, this film has none. It’s billed as a “shriek filled funhouse”, but what you get is a lot of cheesy special effects and laughable dialogue. Did you ever see Casper the Friendly Ghost? You know the movie, not the cartoon? Well, most of the spirits in this movie look like him. I’m not joking. Fun scenes like a comical beheading by a fireplace ornament and a battle between Eleanor and a highly digitalized hawk sculpture come-to-life are additional worthy moments.
Look, I praise a good horror film that relies on minimal gore and effects to instill a sense of fear. But, this movie was so full of mediocre computer generated “grabby hands” and moving sculptures that it began to make a real mockery of itself. The best part came near the end when we find out that Eleanor’s great-grandad is actually the asshole who built the house in the first place and his spirit still imprisons the legions of children he killed in his textile mills way back in the day. So, the whole reason she ends up there (we find out) is because the house “needs her to protect the children.” Um. Ok. Seriously, Monkey could write a better screenplay then this.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Christmas Gifts
Skaht and I gave each other our Christmas gifts early this year.
Skaht got us both spots in a ballroom dancing class. It starts on January 14th!! I'm sure that Skaht and I will tear it up. Look for us on the professional circuit sometime next year. Yeah, I think that we'll be that good. Seriously.
I made Skaht's present. It's a shrine to creativity (creative writing creativity.)
Here are some shots of it:




Materials:
Wood
Paint
Vintage papers and book excerpts (from the 1800's to 1940's)
Wire
Vintage glass beads
Bronze sparrows
Vintage typewriter keys
Peacock feathers
Lacquer
Dollhouse chair
Electric light
Cellophane
Love
Skaht got us both spots in a ballroom dancing class. It starts on January 14th!! I'm sure that Skaht and I will tear it up. Look for us on the professional circuit sometime next year. Yeah, I think that we'll be that good. Seriously.
I made Skaht's present. It's a shrine to creativity (creative writing creativity.)
Here are some shots of it:




Materials:
Wood
Paint
Vintage papers and book excerpts (from the 1800's to 1940's)
Wire
Vintage glass beads
Bronze sparrows
Vintage typewriter keys
Peacock feathers
Lacquer
Dollhouse chair
Electric light
Cellophane
Love
Friday, December 19, 2008
Name that 80's band!

Well, actually that's just me and my friend George at my other friend's birthday party (Sara.) Looks authentic though. It inspired Alli P. (she took the photo) to propose a photo shoot in the near future. If we do the shoot, then maybe I'll be inspired to get back to learning electric guitar - since my guitar is rotting away in storage.
So yeah. Take heed. I might be famous some day. A famous old person. Holla!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
RIP Miss Bettie
Friday, December 12, 2008
Drinkin' and Dialin'
I’m happy Skaht said that it was ‘cute’ when I decided to drunk dial him multiple times last night on my way back from a friend’s birthday dinner. You see, I just wanted to give him a call and ask him to come over because I thought that it would be fun to hang out. I had no idea what time it was (past midnight on a weekday) and I was feelin’ fine from all those nice blackberry cosmos (seriously, they were good.) So, I figured – why the hell not? Skaht loves me and I’m sure that he’d want to stop by!
So, I proceeded to call and the phone just rang and rang before Skaht’s voicemail picked up. For some reason, I thought that there must have been something wrong with my phone, because if my phone had worked correctly, Skaht would have answered. I then called him again with the same results. On the third try, Skaht answered because the constant ringing of his phone must have woken him up or annoyed him to no end by this point. He didn’t sound upset or anything and I was psyched because I was all like – yay! My phone works!
Now that I had him on the phone, I started babbling and saying drunken cliché phrases like “come over here and do me” and “I miss you so much, I can’t stand it!” As I went on and on, I ended up walking right into a patio table, knocking over a plant and smashing into the back of some person’s bicycle on Mass Ave. The person wasn’t there, so that’s good.
Skaht finally told me that it was too late for him to come over and do me and that he was in bed already. I was sad but I let him go, walking into a trashcan as I hung up.
Sorry, Skaht.
So, I proceeded to call and the phone just rang and rang before Skaht’s voicemail picked up. For some reason, I thought that there must have been something wrong with my phone, because if my phone had worked correctly, Skaht would have answered. I then called him again with the same results. On the third try, Skaht answered because the constant ringing of his phone must have woken him up or annoyed him to no end by this point. He didn’t sound upset or anything and I was psyched because I was all like – yay! My phone works!
Now that I had him on the phone, I started babbling and saying drunken cliché phrases like “come over here and do me” and “I miss you so much, I can’t stand it!” As I went on and on, I ended up walking right into a patio table, knocking over a plant and smashing into the back of some person’s bicycle on Mass Ave. The person wasn’t there, so that’s good.
Skaht finally told me that it was too late for him to come over and do me and that he was in bed already. I was sad but I let him go, walking into a trashcan as I hung up.
Sorry, Skaht.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Surprise Day!
Together Forever
I’m in an odd mood today and as a result of that, I started looking at pet taxidermists online. Now, I’m not all psyched for Monkey to kick it (in fact, I’ll probably be completely crushed when he does), it’s just that the whole idea of stuffing your pet is very strange to me. I don’t understand why someone would do this. I can acknowledge that losing a pet can feel the same as losing your best friend, but why would you want to keep a shell of that pet around after death?
In some ways, I find the whole thing a bit disrespectful of the pet. Now I realize that once Monkey buys the farm, he’s not going to give a rat’s ass whether he’s six feet under in the backyard or frozen in the ‘sleeping kitty’ taxidermy position on my couch. But, I wouldn’t feel right making him have to be with me beyond death. It would feel like I was robbing him of eternal rest or something. Not only that, it would probably make me more sad about his death than if I just buried him. Every day, I would look into his hollow, lifeless marble eyes and wish that maybe today he’d decide to jump off the couch and attack my ankle, or beg for food or...anything, really.
I’m getting sad just writing this.
In some ways, I find the whole thing a bit disrespectful of the pet. Now I realize that once Monkey buys the farm, he’s not going to give a rat’s ass whether he’s six feet under in the backyard or frozen in the ‘sleeping kitty’ taxidermy position on my couch. But, I wouldn’t feel right making him have to be with me beyond death. It would feel like I was robbing him of eternal rest or something. Not only that, it would probably make me more sad about his death than if I just buried him. Every day, I would look into his hollow, lifeless marble eyes and wish that maybe today he’d decide to jump off the couch and attack my ankle, or beg for food or...anything, really.
I’m getting sad just writing this.

Friday, December 5, 2008
Num num num
I'm waiting for Skaht and I'm bored. So, I found this. It's like an alien face hugger sandwich! Yum!
Thursday, December 4, 2008
VS Fashion Show
Ok, so I did end up watching a little bit of the Victoria’s Secret fashion show last night after I got home from dinner with Jen. I just watched the first ten minutes though, because I couldn’t slog through much more. I do think that if I end up getting a bottle of wine tonight, I might try to watch the rest online. But, that is only because I am a masochist and I like to torture myself. It’s sexy.
Anyway, the first few minutes had the annoying backstage cut-ins with some guy in an English accent yelling out model’s names and telling them to “get ready to work” (or something like that.) It was pretty retarded and I definitely think that this guy is the same guy that they had doing the same thing during the last three shows. So, he’s yelling and the camera work is all over the place in an attempt to make the whole thing feel exciting. I don’t know, do people find that exciting? I don’t understand why this kind of media style annoys me to no end, but it does. I was about to shut it off, but then Usher was coming on stage to perform and well, I totally had to watch Usher.
Usher comes on and does one of his Usher songs that everyone seems to know. Then, the models started coming in, one after the other. People started to freak out at this point. See, I get it…they are models in skimpy clothing and well, most people applaud that sight. But, the annoying celebrity that these models are met with is kind of irritating. Each one came out and did a ‘yo homey’ gesture to either Usher or the audience, and I have to tell you that watching these total white-ass women throwing shout-outs was kind of embarrassing. Why couldn’t this just be like a normal fashion show? Oh yeah, I forgot, these are THE Victoria’s Secret ANGELS. Totally different story..totally.
Fashion wise, the outfits that I saw were pretty bad. You always get a mixture of crap and creativity at fashion shows, but the first few get-ups were seriously lacking in any imagination. Basically, each model was wearing what looked like clearance rack lingerie from Walmart (in lovely shades of gym sock gray and beige.) Seriously, this is shit that my 60 year old mom probably wears. Over that, some models either had fabric haphazardly tied around them or weird, brown leather belt things that looked like something straight out of Braveheart. At this point, I was asking myself where is the glamour? Where are all the sparkles and big wings and fantastical sex nymph costumes? The opening outfits looked more like the remnants of some art school drop-out's failed creation than anything interesting. But, yeah, I did only watch the opening scene, so maybe all that came later (I guess I will find out tonight when I settle down with some booze.)
The models were models and I won’t dispute that most of them are or are not hot in some way. They all had the standard model body, which is fine…but, am I a freak to think that lingerie actually looks hotter on women with curves? Sure, the models are tall, but some of them still look a little too pre-pubescent boy for my tastes. I think that real hourglass figures are the hottest (you know, voluptuous with a skinny waist and full hips like a pin-up.) Most of the VS models just look like one long pair of thin legs with little in the way of curves. That's not a bad thing - I guess that I just find this body type more appropriate for high fashion than for lingerie modeling. For lingerie shows, I think that Dita Von Teese makes an excellent model. However, girlfriend is like 5 feet tall, so I guess that excludes her from Vicky Secret's elite model force. Too bad.
See, I think this kind of body is the epitome of sexy:

This one ain't bad by any means, but where the hips at girl?:

After watching the show for a bit, I grew bored (as predicted in my previous post) and decided to work on Skaht’s super surprise Christmas gift. It’s not a sexy gift, but at least it’s unique.
Anyway, the first few minutes had the annoying backstage cut-ins with some guy in an English accent yelling out model’s names and telling them to “get ready to work” (or something like that.) It was pretty retarded and I definitely think that this guy is the same guy that they had doing the same thing during the last three shows. So, he’s yelling and the camera work is all over the place in an attempt to make the whole thing feel exciting. I don’t know, do people find that exciting? I don’t understand why this kind of media style annoys me to no end, but it does. I was about to shut it off, but then Usher was coming on stage to perform and well, I totally had to watch Usher.
Usher comes on and does one of his Usher songs that everyone seems to know. Then, the models started coming in, one after the other. People started to freak out at this point. See, I get it…they are models in skimpy clothing and well, most people applaud that sight. But, the annoying celebrity that these models are met with is kind of irritating. Each one came out and did a ‘yo homey’ gesture to either Usher or the audience, and I have to tell you that watching these total white-ass women throwing shout-outs was kind of embarrassing. Why couldn’t this just be like a normal fashion show? Oh yeah, I forgot, these are THE Victoria’s Secret ANGELS. Totally different story..totally.
Fashion wise, the outfits that I saw were pretty bad. You always get a mixture of crap and creativity at fashion shows, but the first few get-ups were seriously lacking in any imagination. Basically, each model was wearing what looked like clearance rack lingerie from Walmart (in lovely shades of gym sock gray and beige.) Seriously, this is shit that my 60 year old mom probably wears. Over that, some models either had fabric haphazardly tied around them or weird, brown leather belt things that looked like something straight out of Braveheart. At this point, I was asking myself where is the glamour? Where are all the sparkles and big wings and fantastical sex nymph costumes? The opening outfits looked more like the remnants of some art school drop-out's failed creation than anything interesting. But, yeah, I did only watch the opening scene, so maybe all that came later (I guess I will find out tonight when I settle down with some booze.)
The models were models and I won’t dispute that most of them are or are not hot in some way. They all had the standard model body, which is fine…but, am I a freak to think that lingerie actually looks hotter on women with curves? Sure, the models are tall, but some of them still look a little too pre-pubescent boy for my tastes. I think that real hourglass figures are the hottest (you know, voluptuous with a skinny waist and full hips like a pin-up.) Most of the VS models just look like one long pair of thin legs with little in the way of curves. That's not a bad thing - I guess that I just find this body type more appropriate for high fashion than for lingerie modeling. For lingerie shows, I think that Dita Von Teese makes an excellent model. However, girlfriend is like 5 feet tall, so I guess that excludes her from Vicky Secret's elite model force. Too bad.
See, I think this kind of body is the epitome of sexy:

This one ain't bad by any means, but where the hips at girl?:

After watching the show for a bit, I grew bored (as predicted in my previous post) and decided to work on Skaht’s super surprise Christmas gift. It’s not a sexy gift, but at least it’s unique.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Newsflash: Victoria's Secret Sucks
I have a like-hate relationship with Victoria's Secret. I like it because I am a girlie girl and I like lingerie. However, I hate it because it is the epitome of every ridiculous mass-consumerist idea of what sexy should be. To be more concise, it's a place where everything has "sexy" written all over it because the marketing people think that most of us women need it all spelled out for us.
It's funny that the entire line of lingerie has been recently redesigned so it will look more feminine and retro, rather than the circus-pornstar fluorescent shit that they used to sell. I guess that sales started to plummet as more people left the store empty handed (it's difficult to find the sexy in lime green butt floss with sequins.) Hell, I do burlesque shows occasionally and I couldn't even justify any of that crap most of the time.
However, this rant comes on the heels of my most recent shopping excursion when I went in to use up some discount coupons on a couple of panties and shampoo. I really like their shampoo. It smells nice. But, it took damn near an hour to get through the process of buying it because I was accosted relentlessly by salespeople trying to get me to look at sweatpants (with "sexy" written on the ass), gross fragrance sets or credit card offers. I was bothered continuously by every staff member in the store. I can only imagine what a guy must feel like, should he shop there for his woman. But, then I remembered that only ya-doods without any semblance of creativity shop there for their girlfriends and I proceeded to not give a shit about that any more.
Note: if you want to impress your lady friend, blow some extra dimes on a gift from Agent Provocateur. The classiness and high sex appeal factor will score you extra in the bedroom. Trust me.
So yeah. I hate that place, but I still shop there sometimes. I still like to buy bras and panties and all that crap that women spend a fortune on. I do it, but then I hate myself later because I feel like I just bought into the gimmick. If only I had the funds to outfit myself correctly in some La Perla. Someday...someday.
Oh, and I hear that the VS fashion show is on tonight. Usually, I make a date to watch it because I love fashion shows and the VS wings and all - but, this year, I'm going to forgo it. The last two times I watched it, it was like 10 minutes of total fashion runway and 50 minutes of annoying backstage cut-ins showing models on speed preening for the camera and running around in heels. It was fucking boring. Not to mention, if I have to hear Heidi Klum and her annoying mangled English one more time, I'm going to jump off the roof. Too bad - it's a cool idea, but if I want to watch a train wreck, I'll just go over to eonline.com and look at some fun Britney Spears videos.
It's funny that the entire line of lingerie has been recently redesigned so it will look more feminine and retro, rather than the circus-pornstar fluorescent shit that they used to sell. I guess that sales started to plummet as more people left the store empty handed (it's difficult to find the sexy in lime green butt floss with sequins.) Hell, I do burlesque shows occasionally and I couldn't even justify any of that crap most of the time.
However, this rant comes on the heels of my most recent shopping excursion when I went in to use up some discount coupons on a couple of panties and shampoo. I really like their shampoo. It smells nice. But, it took damn near an hour to get through the process of buying it because I was accosted relentlessly by salespeople trying to get me to look at sweatpants (with "sexy" written on the ass), gross fragrance sets or credit card offers. I was bothered continuously by every staff member in the store. I can only imagine what a guy must feel like, should he shop there for his woman. But, then I remembered that only ya-doods without any semblance of creativity shop there for their girlfriends and I proceeded to not give a shit about that any more.
Note: if you want to impress your lady friend, blow some extra dimes on a gift from Agent Provocateur. The classiness and high sex appeal factor will score you extra in the bedroom. Trust me.
So yeah. I hate that place, but I still shop there sometimes. I still like to buy bras and panties and all that crap that women spend a fortune on. I do it, but then I hate myself later because I feel like I just bought into the gimmick. If only I had the funds to outfit myself correctly in some La Perla. Someday...someday.
Oh, and I hear that the VS fashion show is on tonight. Usually, I make a date to watch it because I love fashion shows and the VS wings and all - but, this year, I'm going to forgo it. The last two times I watched it, it was like 10 minutes of total fashion runway and 50 minutes of annoying backstage cut-ins showing models on speed preening for the camera and running around in heels. It was fucking boring. Not to mention, if I have to hear Heidi Klum and her annoying mangled English one more time, I'm going to jump off the roof. Too bad - it's a cool idea, but if I want to watch a train wreck, I'll just go over to eonline.com and look at some fun Britney Spears videos.

Saturday, November 22, 2008
This is most awesome show on tv
I am obsessed with this Japanese show where they take cute boys and dress them like cute girls. Yeah, yeah, I realize that every white chick you know has a crush on cute Japanese boys (me included), but you should check this out because it's brilliant. Besides, the Japanese boy in the green shirt is sooo cuuuutee! LOL! OMG!!!!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
La la la la
Just sittin', drinking wine with Monkey and feeling fatigued from work. My friend Forest sent me this after I sent him the Shakira/Danzig video. It's pretty nice:
Ice Cream Thank You
A bunch of millionaire executives came to my office on Monday and gave my department ice cream. It was to thank us for all of the work we did on our last big project, which ended up costing something like $40 million dollars. Supposedly, it’s considered one of the most expensive projects ever in the IT industry.
Those ice cream parties tend to be half-hearted attempts at making people feel good about working 60+ hours a week. As a consultant, I’m shielded from a lot of those excessive demands, but it’s still difficult to work around people who are expected to just take it.
I’m beginning to realize that consulting wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Basically, I work in a super corporate environment, but I get treated better than the actual employees and can leave at 4. It’s sad, really, but there are a lot of business guys here who seem to like working so much that they get all excited about the shitty ice cream thank you. I don’t know about them, but I’d rather have the executive millionaires show me their gratitude by giving me a nice bonus rather than gross cafeteria ice cream with generic candy toppings.
Those ice cream parties tend to be half-hearted attempts at making people feel good about working 60+ hours a week. As a consultant, I’m shielded from a lot of those excessive demands, but it’s still difficult to work around people who are expected to just take it.
I’m beginning to realize that consulting wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Basically, I work in a super corporate environment, but I get treated better than the actual employees and can leave at 4. It’s sad, really, but there are a lot of business guys here who seem to like working so much that they get all excited about the shitty ice cream thank you. I don’t know about them, but I’d rather have the executive millionaires show me their gratitude by giving me a nice bonus rather than gross cafeteria ice cream with generic candy toppings.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Surprise Day!
Yesterday was Surprise Day!
Skaht got me a coaster featuring cats selling lemonade. The coaster is made out of a recycled bath tile. I got Skaht the Badger Sleep Balm since he has been having trouble sleeping lately.
Skaht got me a coaster featuring cats selling lemonade. The coaster is made out of a recycled bath tile. I got Skaht the Badger Sleep Balm since he has been having trouble sleeping lately.

Monday, November 10, 2008
Working for the man - Part 1
I have had a ‘real’ job for about 10 years now. However, it has taken me almost 10 years to become fully used to the idea of working 9-5. In fact, I’d say that this whole desk job situation hasn’t become fully realized until the past two years or so. For some reason, I always felt like working an adult job would be a temporary phase – like going to college. I waited patiently for the time when something would happen and I’d wake up and be on to my next thing, whatever that was. Unfortunately, we all know that unless one is already wealthy, money has to be made somehow. Sadly, that’s where the 9-5 job comes in.
When I finished college and got my first corporate job, I was actually working right down the street from where I am working now in South Boston. I tend to think of that time a lot, since I can still see the building I worked at on my way to my current office in the World Trade Center. It’s a big, brown, depressing building that houses a few different businesses. The Harpoon Brewery is there in addition to some fish packing place. BTE, Inc. (or whatever it’s called now since they were bought out some time ago) is sandwiched right between. That’s where I worked.
This was a time when, like most early 20-somethings, I tended to thrive on late nights out and no sleep. How I actually pulled myself out of bed in the morning and got myself in the office is a big mystery to me now. For the first two or three months that I worked there, I didn’t have a place to live, so I couch surfed at my friend’s place, waiting for one of the extra rooms to open up. No one had a regular day job in the house, so I had to deal with people up at all hours and no privacy. I actually kept my clothes in an old boarded up fireplace since I didn’t have any closet space to call my own. People would come in while I was asleep on an air mattress on the floor and watch movies sometimes. Obviously, this wasn’t a good situation for a working professional – but I made the best of it.
Thankfully, my job at BTE was a relatively brainless administrative type job, so I didn’t really have to think that much and I could coast through the day. It was insanely boring there, and I rarely had anything to do. I pretty much sat in a back room, surfing the internet and trying to make myself look busy. I worked for the Director of Marketing. He mostly gave me reports and business proposals that I had to type up. The rough drafts would be coddled together from old proposal clippings and marked up with highlighters and red pens. They were very infantile looking, like some kindergartener had made me a story that I was supposed to decode and put into adult language. That’s pretty much all I did, maybe three times a week.
Since typing up proposals took me about an hour or so each, I was left with lots of free time on my hands. I became very adept at escaping the office unnoticed and I often took long walks around the pier. There are some strange buildings out here and lots of weird abandoned fish shacks, which I always promised myself I would photograph one day. One time, I illegally gained entry into the design center (a huge factory type building that contains interior design showcases for licensed buyers.) Walking around inside was like being part of another world. “Look at all the people who actually have cool jobs” I would say to myself as I looked at all the eccentric designers dashing about. It made me pretty depressed.
I’m not sure what my real hours were supposed to be, but I never worked more than 4 hours a day. After a two hour lunch, I’d go back to my cubicle and stare at the monitor. Maybe type up a story or email or letter or something. At around 4:30 – maybe 4 – I’d escape again, running across the parking lot and down the long street that I would have to walk in order to catch the shuttle bus from the WTC to South Station. I’d run like crazy, although most people at my office probably never noticed when I left. The walk was about 10 minutes to the shuttle and then the shuttle would take 10 minutes to South Station where I would run down to the T. The T ride took 15-20 minutes from South Station to Central Square, where I lived.
All in all, it wasn’t an awful gig, especially since I had a ton of free time and pretty much did whatever I wanted. However, I was sad a lot. I wondered how I would get used to having to work Monday through Friday, 5 days a week. I wondered how people seemed to do it so effortlessly. Do they actually like working? It wasn’t that I was particularly lazy or anything, it was just that I was expected to play a part of society that I didn’t necessarily agree with. I was in a corporate environment, with people spewing business talk all day and being around that seemed to deeply affect my soul. I always felt like I was playing some huge part in a play. Look at me, I totally agree with you about status reports and marketing and customers and products. Yeah, I do…really.
Going from being a full-time college student to a full-time professional was tough. My loss of freedom during the weekdays really got to me in a big way. I’d look at all the students in Boston and long to be a part of their world again. I toyed with the idea of graduate school and taking outlandish international jobs so I wouldn’t have to type or take dictation or pretend to care about meetings and business proposals anymore. Wouldn’t it be great if I went to art school? Or, how about the Peace Corps? I dwelled on all of these questions and inwardly, I started to fall apart. I had no idea how I would be able to handle real life. I did know, however, that I needed to work and I needed to make money. Eventually, I thought, I’d figure out how to make money and not work. I still think that will happen sometimes.
As the year dragged on, it was apparent that BTE was going to be acquired by another company. I didn’t know much about how these things progressed, so I didn’t really care. I did start to care, though when there was talk about changing the office décor and putting all the Admins in the front of the office so we could greet clients. This really set me off. If I was moved to the front of the office, that would mean no more cubicle walls, no more privacy – people would see me constantly and I wouldn’t be able to sneak out. Worse yet, I’d have to talk to people and be cheery and accountable and answer phones.
I was complacent about finding a new job up until this point, but now it was urgent that I find something else. Luckily for me, it was the ‘dot-com boom’ and jobs were plentiful. Even higher paying technology jobs were open to people who didn’t have the background (me.) So, I hit up Monster.com during work hours, applied to one Marketing Coordinator job at a software company, got called into an interview and got the job all within a week. That’s how this French/Anthropology major ended up in technology..where I still am today. I’ll write part two soon.
When I finished college and got my first corporate job, I was actually working right down the street from where I am working now in South Boston. I tend to think of that time a lot, since I can still see the building I worked at on my way to my current office in the World Trade Center. It’s a big, brown, depressing building that houses a few different businesses. The Harpoon Brewery is there in addition to some fish packing place. BTE, Inc. (or whatever it’s called now since they were bought out some time ago) is sandwiched right between. That’s where I worked.
This was a time when, like most early 20-somethings, I tended to thrive on late nights out and no sleep. How I actually pulled myself out of bed in the morning and got myself in the office is a big mystery to me now. For the first two or three months that I worked there, I didn’t have a place to live, so I couch surfed at my friend’s place, waiting for one of the extra rooms to open up. No one had a regular day job in the house, so I had to deal with people up at all hours and no privacy. I actually kept my clothes in an old boarded up fireplace since I didn’t have any closet space to call my own. People would come in while I was asleep on an air mattress on the floor and watch movies sometimes. Obviously, this wasn’t a good situation for a working professional – but I made the best of it.
Thankfully, my job at BTE was a relatively brainless administrative type job, so I didn’t really have to think that much and I could coast through the day. It was insanely boring there, and I rarely had anything to do. I pretty much sat in a back room, surfing the internet and trying to make myself look busy. I worked for the Director of Marketing. He mostly gave me reports and business proposals that I had to type up. The rough drafts would be coddled together from old proposal clippings and marked up with highlighters and red pens. They were very infantile looking, like some kindergartener had made me a story that I was supposed to decode and put into adult language. That’s pretty much all I did, maybe three times a week.
Since typing up proposals took me about an hour or so each, I was left with lots of free time on my hands. I became very adept at escaping the office unnoticed and I often took long walks around the pier. There are some strange buildings out here and lots of weird abandoned fish shacks, which I always promised myself I would photograph one day. One time, I illegally gained entry into the design center (a huge factory type building that contains interior design showcases for licensed buyers.) Walking around inside was like being part of another world. “Look at all the people who actually have cool jobs” I would say to myself as I looked at all the eccentric designers dashing about. It made me pretty depressed.
I’m not sure what my real hours were supposed to be, but I never worked more than 4 hours a day. After a two hour lunch, I’d go back to my cubicle and stare at the monitor. Maybe type up a story or email or letter or something. At around 4:30 – maybe 4 – I’d escape again, running across the parking lot and down the long street that I would have to walk in order to catch the shuttle bus from the WTC to South Station. I’d run like crazy, although most people at my office probably never noticed when I left. The walk was about 10 minutes to the shuttle and then the shuttle would take 10 minutes to South Station where I would run down to the T. The T ride took 15-20 minutes from South Station to Central Square, where I lived.
All in all, it wasn’t an awful gig, especially since I had a ton of free time and pretty much did whatever I wanted. However, I was sad a lot. I wondered how I would get used to having to work Monday through Friday, 5 days a week. I wondered how people seemed to do it so effortlessly. Do they actually like working? It wasn’t that I was particularly lazy or anything, it was just that I was expected to play a part of society that I didn’t necessarily agree with. I was in a corporate environment, with people spewing business talk all day and being around that seemed to deeply affect my soul. I always felt like I was playing some huge part in a play. Look at me, I totally agree with you about status reports and marketing and customers and products. Yeah, I do…really.
Going from being a full-time college student to a full-time professional was tough. My loss of freedom during the weekdays really got to me in a big way. I’d look at all the students in Boston and long to be a part of their world again. I toyed with the idea of graduate school and taking outlandish international jobs so I wouldn’t have to type or take dictation or pretend to care about meetings and business proposals anymore. Wouldn’t it be great if I went to art school? Or, how about the Peace Corps? I dwelled on all of these questions and inwardly, I started to fall apart. I had no idea how I would be able to handle real life. I did know, however, that I needed to work and I needed to make money. Eventually, I thought, I’d figure out how to make money and not work. I still think that will happen sometimes.
As the year dragged on, it was apparent that BTE was going to be acquired by another company. I didn’t know much about how these things progressed, so I didn’t really care. I did start to care, though when there was talk about changing the office décor and putting all the Admins in the front of the office so we could greet clients. This really set me off. If I was moved to the front of the office, that would mean no more cubicle walls, no more privacy – people would see me constantly and I wouldn’t be able to sneak out. Worse yet, I’d have to talk to people and be cheery and accountable and answer phones.
I was complacent about finding a new job up until this point, but now it was urgent that I find something else. Luckily for me, it was the ‘dot-com boom’ and jobs were plentiful. Even higher paying technology jobs were open to people who didn’t have the background (me.) So, I hit up Monster.com during work hours, applied to one Marketing Coordinator job at a software company, got called into an interview and got the job all within a week. That’s how this French/Anthropology major ended up in technology..where I still am today. I’ll write part two soon.

Sunday, October 26, 2008
~*~ Art Sunday ~*~
Today, Skaht and I rented a ZipCar and checked out the Decordova Sculpture Park and Museum. It's located in Lincoln, MA - about 20 minutes or so from Cambridge. If we ever win MegaMillions (I'm hoping that one of those tickets we buy each week will score), I'm thinking that it would be cool to retire in that area. Very picturesque New England, with lots of estates, apple trees and not many people. Nice.
We had a nice walk around the park, checked out the museum and then got lost in the woods, too.
One of my favorite sculptures is still up: Sharks In The Trees

Skaht and the sharks:

Hearts:

Social commentary:

Artsy landscape with Skaht:

Pinecone people:

Thinkin' about art:

Face:

Skaht and the autumn leaf:

Art things:





Skaht immitates art:

Love in a sculpture park:
We had a nice walk around the park, checked out the museum and then got lost in the woods, too.
One of my favorite sculptures is still up: Sharks In The Trees
Skaht and the sharks:
Hearts:
Social commentary:
Artsy landscape with Skaht:
Pinecone people:

Thinkin' about art:
Face:
Skaht and the autumn leaf:
Art things:
Skaht immitates art:

Love in a sculpture park:
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Skaht and Tanya Do Salem
We went to Salem, MA on Saturday for HarvestFest which was a wine/beer/meade tasting event.
This is us before drinking a lot of alcohol:

Still before alcohol, but Skaht isn't sure if it's me or not:

Skaht relives the olden days:

After alcohol, Skaht gets chummy with a pirate:

After alcohol (and at home after like 10 hours), Monkey enjoys his gift from Skaht. A wizard hat!
This is us before drinking a lot of alcohol:

Still before alcohol, but Skaht isn't sure if it's me or not:

Skaht relives the olden days:

After alcohol, Skaht gets chummy with a pirate:

After alcohol (and at home after like 10 hours), Monkey enjoys his gift from Skaht. A wizard hat!

Thursday, October 16, 2008
Autumn
It's autumn time again - my favorite season. I just came back from walking around outside. The weather is perfect, and there is a gentle breeze coming through the window. Right now, the foliage is hitting it's peak and a lot of the trees around here are bright yellow and orange.
There is something about autumn that makes everything surreal and fantasy-like. Maybe it's the association I have with Halloween, which is happening soon. I'm not sure. I've felt this way for my entire life though. I always feel happiest right now.
A year ago, when I was still getting to know Skaht, I told him about the Kodamas. They are Japanese tree spirits that are depicted in one of my favorite anime films, Princess Mononoke. In Japanase mythology, they are described a bit differently than in the movie, but I think the little white Kodamas in Princess Mononoke are so sweet.
I think that the Kodamas come out in autumn, because it's the best time of the year. I can almost count on seeing one sometimes, bouncing around on a fragile tree branch before fading away as the winter approaches.
And of course, I have to mention the forest spirit - inspiration for Spirit Cat - which I'm sure we will cover in subsequent blog posts...
There is something about autumn that makes everything surreal and fantasy-like. Maybe it's the association I have with Halloween, which is happening soon. I'm not sure. I've felt this way for my entire life though. I always feel happiest right now.
A year ago, when I was still getting to know Skaht, I told him about the Kodamas. They are Japanese tree spirits that are depicted in one of my favorite anime films, Princess Mononoke. In Japanase mythology, they are described a bit differently than in the movie, but I think the little white Kodamas in Princess Mononoke are so sweet.
I think that the Kodamas come out in autumn, because it's the best time of the year. I can almost count on seeing one sometimes, bouncing around on a fragile tree branch before fading away as the winter approaches.
And of course, I have to mention the forest spirit - inspiration for Spirit Cat - which I'm sure we will cover in subsequent blog posts...
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
AcidFace Mondays!
Every Monday, Skaht and I get together, drink wine and put glycolic acid on our faces in an effort to ward off age (it's a good exfoliant.) While our faces are coated in the acid, we do a little AcidFace dance since it can sting. Skaht's skin is getting used to it, so I think he is up to 4-5 minutes now - I'm up to 10. That's mostly because I've been using glycolic acid for a while. It usually works well.
I took a picture of AcidFace Skaht topless, wearing my fuchsia and orange polka dot headband that's made out of towel material (the headband keeps hair out of our faces.) He won't let me post it. So, here is a boring picture that illustrates what glycolic acid looks like at the molecular level:
I took a picture of AcidFace Skaht topless, wearing my fuchsia and orange polka dot headband that's made out of towel material (the headband keeps hair out of our faces.) He won't let me post it. So, here is a boring picture that illustrates what glycolic acid looks like at the molecular level:

Monday, October 13, 2008
Surprise Day!
It was Surprise Day last Friday (October 10.) Skaht and I completed our gift exchange before we left for NYC.

Skaht gave me the most expensive hand soap that I have ever had (it was $10.) I gave Skaht the jade green crystal growing kit. The cat is Monkey. He is the gift that keeps on giving (not a surprise day gift.)
In other news, this is the only picture I took in NYC:

Skaht gave me the most expensive hand soap that I have ever had (it was $10.) I gave Skaht the jade green crystal growing kit. The cat is Monkey. He is the gift that keeps on giving (not a surprise day gift.)
In other news, this is the only picture I took in NYC:

Thursday, October 9, 2008
Can I Have a Scarf With That?
As I predicted in my original post about American Apparel, I ended up in a minor obsessive phase where I bought another hoody (purple), a scarf (dark red), a tank top (black) and a thermal T (pink). This all came on the heels of my first AA purchase, which was a black hoody. I think that I can stop now, though, because I am starting to lose my dignity.
Seriously, after setting foot into the AA store in Harvard Square, I almost swore off buying anything from them ever again. It was just how I pictured it would be - only worse. I won't go into details right now. But, if I see another gold lame bodysuit, I'm going to hurl.
What really did it for me was reading up on Dov Charney - the founder of AA. This guy is a greasy, jerkface cokehead with a penchant for sexually harassing young girls. And, don't get me started on the self-proclaimed title of "innovative designer." Please...a plain t-shirt isn't really an objet d'art. This guy is just really good at making a plain t-shirt look cool using the tired old formula of selling sex to self-obsessed hipsters. Yawn. Next, please.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to wear all of my AA stuff because I just bought it and I do like it..however, every time I do, I will disgust myself just a little bit more. Skaht, ready the Wellbutrin.
Seriously, after setting foot into the AA store in Harvard Square, I almost swore off buying anything from them ever again. It was just how I pictured it would be - only worse. I won't go into details right now. But, if I see another gold lame bodysuit, I'm going to hurl.
What really did it for me was reading up on Dov Charney - the founder of AA. This guy is a greasy, jerkface cokehead with a penchant for sexually harassing young girls. And, don't get me started on the self-proclaimed title of "innovative designer." Please...a plain t-shirt isn't really an objet d'art. This guy is just really good at making a plain t-shirt look cool using the tired old formula of selling sex to self-obsessed hipsters. Yawn. Next, please.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to wear all of my AA stuff because I just bought it and I do like it..however, every time I do, I will disgust myself just a little bit more. Skaht, ready the Wellbutrin.

Saturday, October 4, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
We're on a road to nowhere - Part 2
Here is another rant about people who ride the T. I encountered most of these people today.
1.) Short Stop Jim
Short Stop Jim (or Jane depending on gender) is the person you always end up behind when you are running toward the T before the doors close. He’ll be running too, but what makes him suck is that he’ll either stop or almost stop once he gets on the train. We’re not talking about running into the train for a bit and then stopping. No, Short Stop will stop once he is about three inches inside the train. This causes you to either miss out on boarding since the doors just closed, or if you make it in time, you’ll most likely end up in a face plant to the back of Short Stop’s head (or backpack if he is also a Mr. Backpack type.)
Short Stop Jim really infuriates me because people who are oblivious to their surroundings and assume that they are the only ones trying to make the train fucking suck. The world is full of them. Listen, I always go all the way into the train when boarding it, regardless of whether the doors almost slam in my face. Why? Because I know that I’m not the only person in the whole city of Boston who needs to get on the T. I guess that makes me better than most people.
Anyway, Short Stop Jim is also related to Stonewall Bill. They are usually the same person, depending on the situation. I’ll get to Stonewall below.
2.) Stonewall Bill
Stonewall Bill is almost always a guy, although there are some Betties out there occasionally. Like Short Stop Jim, this douchebag automatically assumes that he is the only person who matters and therefore won’t be accommodating when the T is crowded. Stonewall Bill will get on the train and stand in front of the door regardless of the fact that more people need to bust past him while boarding. He’ll usually do this when there is plenty of room on the train, so moving in to make way for more riders is always feasible. Stonewall tends to be either a businessman or a foreigner and assumes that he is the only one who should be able to easily vacate the train when appropriate. Purposely smacking or running into a Stonewall when exiting the train is highly recommended. Seriously, you’ll win karma points back this way. Try it.
3.) The Flisp Coalition
I came up with the term “Flisp” to describe a woman who talks with a lisp. Lisps aren’t inherently bad, but when used by this specific type of woman, it is the most annoying, irritating, grating thing in the entire free world. The T boasts a lot of flisps, especially after work around 6pm. They tend to ride the train in large groups.
A flisp is usually in her 20’s or 30’s, works in Finance, sports designer purses (with the designer logo really, really visible) and hangs out with meathead date rapist looking men. Flisps like to appear non-threatening and somewhat unintelligent so they will usually talk to each other using questions rather than stating anything that might indicate that they think for themselves. For example:
Flisp A “What do you think of that new guy in accounting?”
Flisp B “I don’t know, do you think that he is gay?”
Flisp A “I’m not sure, did you hear what he said the other day after the meeting?”
Flisp B “Yeah. Isn’t that so crazy?”
And on it goes. Usually, you’ll hear the lisp in the middle of phrases, with an emphasis on words that end in ‘th’ or start with ‘s’. Depending on proximity, it’s difficult to tune them out, even with the loudest, most feedback oriented song you have in your playlist. If a group of flisps comes your way on the train, the best advice is to either go to the opposite side of the car or get off at the next stop entirely and walk.
1.) Short Stop Jim
Short Stop Jim (or Jane depending on gender) is the person you always end up behind when you are running toward the T before the doors close. He’ll be running too, but what makes him suck is that he’ll either stop or almost stop once he gets on the train. We’re not talking about running into the train for a bit and then stopping. No, Short Stop will stop once he is about three inches inside the train. This causes you to either miss out on boarding since the doors just closed, or if you make it in time, you’ll most likely end up in a face plant to the back of Short Stop’s head (or backpack if he is also a Mr. Backpack type.)
Short Stop Jim really infuriates me because people who are oblivious to their surroundings and assume that they are the only ones trying to make the train fucking suck. The world is full of them. Listen, I always go all the way into the train when boarding it, regardless of whether the doors almost slam in my face. Why? Because I know that I’m not the only person in the whole city of Boston who needs to get on the T. I guess that makes me better than most people.
Anyway, Short Stop Jim is also related to Stonewall Bill. They are usually the same person, depending on the situation. I’ll get to Stonewall below.
2.) Stonewall Bill
Stonewall Bill is almost always a guy, although there are some Betties out there occasionally. Like Short Stop Jim, this douchebag automatically assumes that he is the only person who matters and therefore won’t be accommodating when the T is crowded. Stonewall Bill will get on the train and stand in front of the door regardless of the fact that more people need to bust past him while boarding. He’ll usually do this when there is plenty of room on the train, so moving in to make way for more riders is always feasible. Stonewall tends to be either a businessman or a foreigner and assumes that he is the only one who should be able to easily vacate the train when appropriate. Purposely smacking or running into a Stonewall when exiting the train is highly recommended. Seriously, you’ll win karma points back this way. Try it.
3.) The Flisp Coalition
I came up with the term “Flisp” to describe a woman who talks with a lisp. Lisps aren’t inherently bad, but when used by this specific type of woman, it is the most annoying, irritating, grating thing in the entire free world. The T boasts a lot of flisps, especially after work around 6pm. They tend to ride the train in large groups.
A flisp is usually in her 20’s or 30’s, works in Finance, sports designer purses (with the designer logo really, really visible) and hangs out with meathead date rapist looking men. Flisps like to appear non-threatening and somewhat unintelligent so they will usually talk to each other using questions rather than stating anything that might indicate that they think for themselves. For example:
Flisp A “What do you think of that new guy in accounting?”
Flisp B “I don’t know, do you think that he is gay?”
Flisp A “I’m not sure, did you hear what he said the other day after the meeting?”
Flisp B “Yeah. Isn’t that so crazy?”
And on it goes. Usually, you’ll hear the lisp in the middle of phrases, with an emphasis on words that end in ‘th’ or start with ‘s’. Depending on proximity, it’s difficult to tune them out, even with the loudest, most feedback oriented song you have in your playlist. If a group of flisps comes your way on the train, the best advice is to either go to the opposite side of the car or get off at the next stop entirely and walk.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
We're on a road to nowhere - Part 1
It’s not a big secret that people in Boston love to hate the MBTA. I personally curse it daily, mostly because it sucks in every way possible. It also turns me into a total hater because the disdain I have for the T transfers over to the people who ride it. Sometimes, this is just me being a jerk. However, most of the time, hating fellow T riders is warranted. Let me list why:
1.) Mr. Backpack
This one is pretty obvious. Mr. Backpack is usually a white college student who came to Boston from either New Hampshire, Maine or somewhere where there are a lot of places to hike. He loves hiking so much that he will wear his huge, hulking backpack and hiking gear everywhere – even in the middle of the city where places to hike do not exist. You will see Mr. Backpack a lot during rush hour when he’s on his way to class. What makes Mr. Backpack so annoying is that he’ll walk on the T with his huge backpack on his back, thereby making it impossible for anyone else to get on the already overcrowded T. If you happen to be sitting down, get ready for a blow to the face by either the big silver carabiner hanging off the front of the pack or the pair of Tevas dangling from the bottom. Even the fortunate few who aren’t in direct contact with Mr. Backpack will get a nice whiff of B.O. which comes from his insistence on using only natural deodorant (which we all know doesn’t work).
2.) The Big Ball Krewe
Everyone knows that young urban males in their late teens have the world’s largest balls. How do we know this? Well, it’s pretty obvious when you see them sitting on the T with theirs knees so far apart that no one can sit next to them. I feel bad for them, I mean, if your area juts out so much that you have to sit spread eagled all the time, that must be kind of embarrassing, right? And what to do about pants?! Maybe that’s the deal with those insanely oversized jeans most of them wear.
Or, maybe their junk is just so great that everyone should look at it. Maybe there are secrets to be told if we would only stop and listen once in a while. Tell that disabled old lady to shut up, she can’t have a seat because this dude is on to something with that glorious basket of his. Seriously, I hope that these guys get some good porn jobs out in Hollywood, because with packages that huge, there ain’t no way that they should be poor.
3.) AssCreep Sally
Okay, I know that keeping oneself at a healthy weight is difficult. In this day and age, with all the time at the office and meals on the go, some of us get pretty portly. Yeah. I understand that.
But God help me, if you are a large woman who happens to have a humungous ass, don’t attempt to plant dat azz in a space that can only accept an ass of half your size. This is called AssCreep and I have coined the term to describe this rather gross and annoying predicament. Imagine, if you will, that you are sitting on the T and even though there is plenty of room to either stand or take a seat on the opposite side, AssCreep Sally has her sights set on sitting between you and someone else. Nothing will stop that heaving ass from squeezing into a space no larger than your purse. What happens next? Well, you and your neighbor end up stuck with some of Sally’s terrycloth stretch pants caressing (or smashing into) your thighs. Sometimes, Sally will be of the one shower a week persuasion, which makes the ride even more fun. Seriously Sally, stand up and burn some calories please. Thanks.
This rant was fun. I’ll try for some more after tomorrow’s commute back into the office.
1.) Mr. Backpack
This one is pretty obvious. Mr. Backpack is usually a white college student who came to Boston from either New Hampshire, Maine or somewhere where there are a lot of places to hike. He loves hiking so much that he will wear his huge, hulking backpack and hiking gear everywhere – even in the middle of the city where places to hike do not exist. You will see Mr. Backpack a lot during rush hour when he’s on his way to class. What makes Mr. Backpack so annoying is that he’ll walk on the T with his huge backpack on his back, thereby making it impossible for anyone else to get on the already overcrowded T. If you happen to be sitting down, get ready for a blow to the face by either the big silver carabiner hanging off the front of the pack or the pair of Tevas dangling from the bottom. Even the fortunate few who aren’t in direct contact with Mr. Backpack will get a nice whiff of B.O. which comes from his insistence on using only natural deodorant (which we all know doesn’t work).
2.) The Big Ball Krewe
Everyone knows that young urban males in their late teens have the world’s largest balls. How do we know this? Well, it’s pretty obvious when you see them sitting on the T with theirs knees so far apart that no one can sit next to them. I feel bad for them, I mean, if your area juts out so much that you have to sit spread eagled all the time, that must be kind of embarrassing, right? And what to do about pants?! Maybe that’s the deal with those insanely oversized jeans most of them wear.
Or, maybe their junk is just so great that everyone should look at it. Maybe there are secrets to be told if we would only stop and listen once in a while. Tell that disabled old lady to shut up, she can’t have a seat because this dude is on to something with that glorious basket of his. Seriously, I hope that these guys get some good porn jobs out in Hollywood, because with packages that huge, there ain’t no way that they should be poor.
3.) AssCreep Sally
Okay, I know that keeping oneself at a healthy weight is difficult. In this day and age, with all the time at the office and meals on the go, some of us get pretty portly. Yeah. I understand that.
But God help me, if you are a large woman who happens to have a humungous ass, don’t attempt to plant dat azz in a space that can only accept an ass of half your size. This is called AssCreep and I have coined the term to describe this rather gross and annoying predicament. Imagine, if you will, that you are sitting on the T and even though there is plenty of room to either stand or take a seat on the opposite side, AssCreep Sally has her sights set on sitting between you and someone else. Nothing will stop that heaving ass from squeezing into a space no larger than your purse. What happens next? Well, you and your neighbor end up stuck with some of Sally’s terrycloth stretch pants caressing (or smashing into) your thighs. Sometimes, Sally will be of the one shower a week persuasion, which makes the ride even more fun. Seriously Sally, stand up and burn some calories please. Thanks.
This rant was fun. I’ll try for some more after tomorrow’s commute back into the office.

Thursday, September 25, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Je suis malade
Today is a useless day at work since I have a cold. At the turn of every season throughout the year, I get sick. It has been this way since I was little. It sucks.
I can’t wait to go home, get under the covers and go to bed. Monkey better leave me alone come 5am tomorrow morning. That jerk can get his own food.
I can’t wait to go home, get under the covers and go to bed. Monkey better leave me alone come 5am tomorrow morning. That jerk can get his own food.

Monday, September 22, 2008
Get the F up

Its 5am. Anything seem a little bit ‘off’? Anything need to be done? Hello?
*tap tap*
Yo! Wake up!
Wah. This is the dance I have to perform every morning so that someone will get up and feed my starving ass. Yeah Tanya, I’m sure that it’s a real pain and everything, but I’m a growing cat and I need to be fed. Not when it’s convenient for you, okay? I need to be fed when I am HUNGRY.
I have perfected a new kind of purr that really seems to freak Tanya out (not sure about Skaht though.) It is also effective because Tanya got out of bed shortly after I unleashed my new evil power this morning.
What I do is this: I sit on Tanya or Skaht’s chest, get real close to their faces and then purr in a really low yet creepy way. Oh yeah, and I purr really loud too. That way, Tanya and Skaht will be roused from their deep stupid sleep quickly since it sounds like I am going to tear their faces off with my sharp teeth.
It totally works and I think that I might employ it at other times when I need them to stop being so self-absorbed. Like when they lock me out of the bathroom or when they make me wear the crab hat. Wah.
*tap tap*
Yo! Wake up!
Wah. This is the dance I have to perform every morning so that someone will get up and feed my starving ass. Yeah Tanya, I’m sure that it’s a real pain and everything, but I’m a growing cat and I need to be fed. Not when it’s convenient for you, okay? I need to be fed when I am HUNGRY.
I have perfected a new kind of purr that really seems to freak Tanya out (not sure about Skaht though.) It is also effective because Tanya got out of bed shortly after I unleashed my new evil power this morning.
What I do is this: I sit on Tanya or Skaht’s chest, get real close to their faces and then purr in a really low yet creepy way. Oh yeah, and I purr really loud too. That way, Tanya and Skaht will be roused from their deep stupid sleep quickly since it sounds like I am going to tear their faces off with my sharp teeth.
It totally works and I think that I might employ it at other times when I need them to stop being so self-absorbed. Like when they lock me out of the bathroom or when they make me wear the crab hat. Wah.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Respect
Wow, Skaht's post was pretty:
Or maybe a little more:
You know the suits were like, “When in Rome, if we’re doing this video, we’re putting a goddamned model in there, a girl one!” and When in Rome balked, then slammed the glossy tabletop and were like, “Fine. We don’t like it, but fine. But, we’re not interacting with her.” Whereas, Erasure Burger Kinged the whole thing and had it their way.
Or maybe a little more:
You know the suits were like, “When in Rome, if we’re doing this video, we’re putting a goddamned model in there, a girl one!” and When in Rome balked, then slammed the glossy tabletop and were like, “Fine. We don’t like it, but fine. But, we’re not interacting with her.” Whereas, Erasure Burger Kinged the whole thing and had it their way.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Rowlf
I just came back from a dinner with Sara. I love hanging out with her - we always end up watching The Muppets.
Rowlf was my favorite muppet when I was little. I was so obsessed with him. My parents found a Rowlf puppet and bought him for me for Christmas when I was 3. It was one of the best things ever. I still think so.
I should thank them for that.
Rowlf was my favorite muppet when I was little. I was so obsessed with him. My parents found a Rowlf puppet and bought him for me for Christmas when I was 3. It was one of the best things ever. I still think so.
I should thank them for that.
White Shoelace
This post is probably going to be crappy. I’m working on like 8 hours of cumulative sleep over a 2 day period. So, you’ll have to cut me some slack.
A Place to Bury Strangers was such a kick ass show. It’s too bad that my ass was already kicked from the previous night’s drunken escapades with Skaht – but isn’t that always the case anyway. I definitely got into it shortly after we arrived at the Paradise and I’m really happy that we ended up going. Of course, today sucks because of it, but it’s an Accomplished Suck kind of feeling. That’s a good thing, I guess.
Yeah, so I debuted my new American Apparel hoody. I was pretty nervous about getting one, to be honest. I mean, there are all these dumb hipster associations with AA and while I find that really retarded; I don’t want to be looked at as one of those old people who can’t seem to leave the so-called youth counter culture behind. Sad really, since there isn’t such a thing anymore – for the most part. So, why do I care?
I have to say though, I do like the AA hoody a lot. It fits great, was cheap and is really comfortable. I knew that AA would have the fit that I want, so that’s pretty much why I went with it. Most hoodies either have graphics all over them that look lame on me because I’m old. Either that, or, they are really baggy and I’m not into the “I’m going to the gym” look unless I am going to the gym. However, I don’t wear hoodies to the gym.
I figured that I would see a lot of AA garb at last nights show and I was right. I counted maybe 4 AA hoodies and 2 pairs of probable AA leggings. The problem with AA is that all of the hoodies have that really white shoestring tie thing that hangs from the hood. It’s pretty noticeable and right away everyone is all like, AMERICAN APPAREL HOODY. I’m toying with the idea of replacing the shoestring with a black one. Maybe. Especially since I might be buying another hoody soon because I like this one so much.
Maybe buying 1 AA hoody is kind of like getting your first tattoo. You can't stop after just 1. I hope that Skaht is ready for the acid washed jeans, big early 80's mom sunglasses and crocheted, oversized beret that I'll be buying evenutally since I'm such a hipster now.
A Place to Bury Strangers was such a kick ass show. It’s too bad that my ass was already kicked from the previous night’s drunken escapades with Skaht – but isn’t that always the case anyway. I definitely got into it shortly after we arrived at the Paradise and I’m really happy that we ended up going. Of course, today sucks because of it, but it’s an Accomplished Suck kind of feeling. That’s a good thing, I guess.
Yeah, so I debuted my new American Apparel hoody. I was pretty nervous about getting one, to be honest. I mean, there are all these dumb hipster associations with AA and while I find that really retarded; I don’t want to be looked at as one of those old people who can’t seem to leave the so-called youth counter culture behind. Sad really, since there isn’t such a thing anymore – for the most part. So, why do I care?
I have to say though, I do like the AA hoody a lot. It fits great, was cheap and is really comfortable. I knew that AA would have the fit that I want, so that’s pretty much why I went with it. Most hoodies either have graphics all over them that look lame on me because I’m old. Either that, or, they are really baggy and I’m not into the “I’m going to the gym” look unless I am going to the gym. However, I don’t wear hoodies to the gym.
I figured that I would see a lot of AA garb at last nights show and I was right. I counted maybe 4 AA hoodies and 2 pairs of probable AA leggings. The problem with AA is that all of the hoodies have that really white shoestring tie thing that hangs from the hood. It’s pretty noticeable and right away everyone is all like, AMERICAN APPAREL HOODY. I’m toying with the idea of replacing the shoestring with a black one. Maybe. Especially since I might be buying another hoody soon because I like this one so much.
Maybe buying 1 AA hoody is kind of like getting your first tattoo. You can't stop after just 1. I hope that Skaht is ready for the acid washed jeans, big early 80's mom sunglasses and crocheted, oversized beret that I'll be buying evenutally since I'm such a hipster now.

Thanks
Aw man. Let me tell you, both of those jerks came home last night after some “show” and proceeded to smoke cigarettes as they sat around the computer in the kitchen. Now the whole place smells like one big ashtray. Thanks Skaht and Tanya.
Seriously, aren’t they even concerned about what all that smoke must be doing to me? I mean, it’s obvious that they don’t care about their own health, but Jesus. You’d think that they would have some inkling in their booze pickled brains that I might not be cool with it. It’s bad enough that they already tried to put me in a harness and bring me outside where there are CARS. Yeah!!! Cars!! Thanks but no thanks. Being outside sucks and I want no part of it. I don’t need the added worry of dodging cars tacked onto my busy lifestyle; even if Tanya promised that nothing would happen because I’m on a leash. Whatever.
Thank God that Skaht and Tanya are actively trying to quit now. Or so they say, anyway. You never know what you are going to get with those two – life being like a box of chocolates and everything.
Wah. Time to head under the bed.
Seriously, aren’t they even concerned about what all that smoke must be doing to me? I mean, it’s obvious that they don’t care about their own health, but Jesus. You’d think that they would have some inkling in their booze pickled brains that I might not be cool with it. It’s bad enough that they already tried to put me in a harness and bring me outside where there are CARS. Yeah!!! Cars!! Thanks but no thanks. Being outside sucks and I want no part of it. I don’t need the added worry of dodging cars tacked onto my busy lifestyle; even if Tanya promised that nothing would happen because I’m on a leash. Whatever.
Thank God that Skaht and Tanya are actively trying to quit now. Or so they say, anyway. You never know what you are going to get with those two – life being like a box of chocolates and everything.
Wah. Time to head under the bed.

Friday, September 12, 2008
Muzak
Hey, I didn't know that Skaht was in a music video!!
Well, I thought it was him, but Tanya told me that it's actually Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes. Could have fooled me. Tanya says that Skaht is way hotter, though.
Wah. Its okay. But, I'd rather chill with some Styx or something. They just don't make music like that any more.
Well, I thought it was him, but Tanya told me that it's actually Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes. Could have fooled me. Tanya says that Skaht is way hotter, though.
Wah. Its okay. But, I'd rather chill with some Styx or something. They just don't make music like that any more.
*Gurble*
I didn't go to work today. Last night, Skaht met me after rehearsal for a drink. That one drink turned into a few Ruby Red Gimlets and then before you know it, we were back at my place, drinking whiskey and making sexy time all night long (alcohol tends to lengthen the process.) It was a nice night, but as usual, I'm hung over.
I figured out that I should never go shopping after a whiskey sex night. When I'm hung over, I tend to make a quick shopping trip into a long shopping spree. I got some cute things though and didn't blow my budget, but I really don't need any more clothes.
Monkey just jumped on top of the door. He looks crazy.
Supposedly, Tatiana and I are going out to the Pill tonight, which will include more drinking and staying out late. I hope that my liver holds up. Its time for a detox week with Skaht - I'll have to ask him if he'd be into that.
I figured out that I should never go shopping after a whiskey sex night. When I'm hung over, I tend to make a quick shopping trip into a long shopping spree. I got some cute things though and didn't blow my budget, but I really don't need any more clothes.
Monkey just jumped on top of the door. He looks crazy.
Supposedly, Tatiana and I are going out to the Pill tonight, which will include more drinking and staying out late. I hope that my liver holds up. Its time for a detox week with Skaht - I'll have to ask him if he'd be into that.

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