12.22.14 Dailies

MONDAY

I had a taste for Buddy's Pizza the other night. A spinach-tomato-onion pizza. Buddy's is in a more dangerous part of Detroit - city busses don't even stop there. But Buddy's Pizza is worth a bullet wound or two.

There was a flyer about a local missing woman on the counter. I scanned it and grabbed my heart because it felt like it had left my body. By the time the waitress came back with my pizza, I was already crying like a baby. She handed me the pizza and simply said, "I know. She's been missing since Monday."  I probably looked like some crazy person sobbing all the way home. What this poor woman...and her family!...must be going through. I just can't. My poor Aussie friend had to suffer through my sobbing rant for hours. A selfless act, considering my trust level with would-be friends these days.

Note the bags, the dark circles,
and the general lack of grooming.

I didn't sleep that night. And very little since that night. I called the number on the flyer and spoke with Henrietta's daughter. She's creating a FB page for volunteers looking to help. I posted the flyer to bulletin boards at work and forwarded a copy to local FB friends to share. Her daughter allowed me to bring them dinner for the family yesterday. (I couldn't think of how else I can help, but hopefully this is one less small chore for them to worry about.)  I also gave them a gas station card for all the leads she's hopefully receiving. It's hard to ask to help without sounding too stalker-ish.  We HAVE to find Henrietta soon, or I'll never sleep again.

CBS

WXYZ/ABC

TUESDAY

I realize that a traumatic event can change a person's perspective on different aspects of their life. For instance, a car accident can make a person overly cautious about driving in traffic. For me, my recent incident left me numb. I did really stupid stuff, like walking into traffic before looking. That morphed into a sort of hyper-aware state. In casual environments, I immediately head for a corner in the room. I watch hands, acute movements, noises. Everyone is taller/stronger than me.  I feel unprotected. Even with a gang of homies with me.

Aaand we're rambling.

The one that won't go away.

Where I was going was...do you think it's possible for a life event to change a person's sense of fashion?  Yep, no transition there. I just went from Psych 101 to Self Magazine in 0.2 seconds.

So I'm sitting at the kitchen table with my coffee, wondering what to blog about today, and I realize that I'm buying a lot of red (or "whores' color" according to my father). Without thinking, I choose red. I'm also suddenly fascinated with corsets, and retro pin-up fashion. Which is sort of hilarious because pin-up is designed for women with curves. Like this. Sigh.

Fave new obsession - Pin Up Girl Clothing

WEDNESDAY

A coworker sent the whole damn company a YouTube video with the subject line: "Witness the Power of God". And then she wandered around all day blathering on about how "the spirit of God was really with those people". It was only a matter of time before she got to my desk.  I'm a little busy, woman.
 

 

Wrap dress for
employee party.
(Inspiration)
 

If you're a scientist, you'll say that there simply wasn't enough moisture and warmth in the air to keep the tornado going.

 

If you're a religious person,  you'll say that this was the act of a God answering the prayers of His faithful flock.  

If you're like me, you're thinking, "Soooo....someone had a video camera, but no one had a car? Bus? Mule? Nothing?"

This post isn't really about what you or I believe happened here. But what we do when our opinion strongly opposes the opinions of others. I so want to have a rational debate with her. Maybe give her a reasonable alternative for the tornado's dissipation. But engaging a fanatic in a discussion that questions her beliefs could be a really bad idea.

Have you ever strongly opposed someone's beliefs but kept quiet, even if keeping it in made you sick to your stomach?

THURSDAY

Things I am forced to endure on this day.



Don't ask.

I've locked myself in the den. No, really. I moved the vanity halfway in front of the door. Zombie apocolypse-style, yo. Watching Pride and Prejudice. Again. This movie is by far the only non-syfy flick worth your time.

 

Although it is its own kind of sci-fi in that it offers an unrealistic, alien/not human portrayal of reality. A stuffy attractive man is drawn to a lower class opinionated woman despite his birthright and her crazy mother and can't stop watching her even when more appropriate women are in the room and comes to her rescue a million times and patiently waits for her to notice him turns out to be a real person? Sigh. 

Why can't Mr. Darcy be real?

I need more tea.

FRIDAY

Just walked in to total mayhem at my house. It's 2am, for pete's sake!

 

Who is Pete?

 

I wore my new corset over some jeans and a lace top and a pair of wedge boots, but now I can't get the damned thing off. The prong thingies are like wedged into my skin.

 

Is there some remedial medieval torture device class I missed?

 

Henrietta is still missing. Police searches with K9 units, volunteer searches and still nothing. I spoke with her daughter today, and asked her to please keep my number for anything I can do to help. She seems overwhelmed by everyone's concern. She's received calls and assistance from as far as Quebec, Canada.

 

My mother grows shadier every day. Some Japanese pharmacologist(?)...I don't even know what "farm-a-cologist" means...is visiting the states tomorrow.  Now, my mother is smart. She timed it so that FarmDude would visit while my family is here.  The insane asylum that is my house would distract me enough to not be annoyed with him, every bedroom is taken, and there's no chance of us doing anything improper (hilarious).

Seriously. I can't move.

 

I see what she did there.

 

Well, two things, Maasa: 1st, FarmDude likes Star Wars, not Star Trek. For the millionth time, they're completely separate.  Sigh. 2nd (also for the millionth time), I can't understand a word he's saying.

 

Why am I writing this? My mother never reads my blog anymore. And her timing couldn't be worse. I can't fathom entertaining a random strange man atm.

 

So I'm taking myself out on a date tomorrow. Ice skating, then brunch & unltd mimosas, then to see The Interview. We tried to see it earlier tonight, but the line was quite literally a block long.

 

I hope FarmDude likes burping babies and stepping on grapes and watching TV with the volume on full blast because he can't hear over all the racket.  I'm outtie!

 

 

 

 

Daily Post-Its

Trying something new. I'm going to write a random thought on a post-it note every day this week. This will force me to blog something every day.

Well, this should be a hot rambling mess.

MONDAY

Okay. Who the hell put mint flavour in the damn chocolate muffins? Are you kidding me? This stresses me out. Attention Chocolate Companies: Stop mixing chocolate with mint.  It's not a flavor. It's disgusting. These two ingredients belong way away from each other. They're like fire and ice. Seriously, who's responsible for this disgusting concoction? It's disrespectful to chocolate, it is.

One time I drove thru a new Starbuck's. I ordered my usual white chocolate mocha. I took my first sip as I got home and was walking through the kitchen. I gagged from the nasty shot of mint syrup some dweeb had added to my cup and barely made it to the sink to spit it out. Know what I did? I drove my ratty old car right back up to Starbuck's and went off. Apparently, the shot of mint was a "freebie".  Really?  Why would I want to brush my teeth while eating the heavenly perfection that is chocolate?? How DARE you, sir?

Stop it.

TUESDAY

Sometimes, we affect change simply by doing nothing. Change is imminent, and our immobility creates a sort of wormhole around the evolving currents. In effect, everything around us shifts about to make room for transition, but because we refuse to shift with them, they just find another way around. And our resistance anchors us to what once was, which will at some point be pushed out naturally. Like a splinter.

I doodle Einstein-Rosens
in meetings.

 

But evolution continues. It won't stop just because you glue your feet to the floor of your universe. 

A bite from change can shoot enough venom into your veins to debilitate you.  Movement caused by an evolution we weren't ready for can weigh enough to crack our frame and knock us about. Action --> Equal/opposite reaction.

But sometimes, change occurs and you push off and follow everything around you into that wormhole, but with the acceptance that all the floating pieces shifting about - bumping into you, scarring you, singeing your skin - it actually toughens your bones and shines up your shell.

 

Evolution can be the greatest exfoliant.

WEDNESDAY
Just saw that. Okay, listen. Don't use what you know about my personal brand of ethics to try to manipulate me. Just because I believe in paying it forward and the tenacity of karma doesn't mean that throwing out phrases like "you owe me this" and "this is your debt" will work. Most likely, your transparent attempt at coercion will get you even less than you already had.

Dammit.

THURSDAY
I can scratch my butt by wiggling in my office chair, but then the arm handles poke me in the ribs.

FRIDAY
Tis the season for ridiculous jewelry commercials. Every third commercial is a guy proposing to a woman while shoving a gaudy diamond ring in her face. The basic message: "She won't marry you unless she sees a big rock." The women at work lose their damn minds when someone shows off a giant engagement ring. What's the obsession with diamonds? And why do women put so much importance on them?  This is how I know I'm somehow broken. I've never wanted kids, and I've never wanted a diamond ring. I'll take a really pretty cubic zirconia any day. Who cares how much it's worth as long as it's pretty? The stone in my mom's wedding ring has been long gone. She never replaced it. She just wore it without the stone. Besides, I could invest the rest of that money in something important. Like shoes.

Oy vey...this one again.

In other news, I broke my booty shaking it to Bruno Mars' Uptown Funk all day. And my answer to everything today was, "Don't believe me? Just watch!"  Kristyl came in and we closed the door and had a dance party. Also, I had to quickly lower my arms and get down from the chair when my boss walked by.



Seriously, how addictive is this song? It's got that swanky smooth 1980's Morris Day Jimmy Jam vibe.

 

Charity begins on the Holodeck.

Well, my first go at the following paragraph was a longwinded rambling mess. I really need to start proofing my shit before posting. Seriously. It was a mile long. This version's shorter...you're welcome.

I assisted with a sponsored charity event yesterday aimed at supporting the families of teen cancer patients. Each of us had various tasks, and planning the project took 6 months from concept to run-of-show. It was all worth it - even checking things off on a notepad at the counter of a New Orleans bar - 100% of the profits go to the patients and their families. The center played a dedication video to the volunteers all night. Here are the parts I caught with my phone. I'll repost when the full video is available.

 

This vid created with ClipStitch (which is only available 

for iPhone), but isn't viewable via iPhones...

Oh, the irony. Nicely done, Apple.

 

 

My job's executives buy gifts for local kids based on the kids' wishlists sent to "Santa". This year, my dept's exec snuck a copy of the list to me because one of the kids, 13 year old Phoenix, is a Trekkie.

 

I asked Phoenix's "Santa" (an executive chef) if I could help. Okay, it was more like pleading. I stalked him with 4 very unprofessional emails, I slaved over a stove for 2 hours to bring him my mom's special onigiri with wasabi as requested, and I owe him a venti 7-pump no foam white chocolate mocha. He finally caved. He'll take care of the boring stuff (i.e., clothes), I get the good stuff (Trek).

I believe the Latin term for this sort of agreement is "Winnitus of Epicus Proportionalis".

Okay so far I have...

·         Star Trek shirt or hoodie (working on)
·         Star Trek messenger bag (done)
·         Star Trek baseball cap (my stash)
·         Star Trek game for Xbox360 (done)
·         2 Blue Ray DVDs (Star Trek/Star Trek Darkness) (my stash)
·         1 Star Trek Borg Bobble Head (my stash)
·         1 model Bird of Prey similar to this one (may have to be pried from my cold, dead hands)

So, visitor, I could really use your advice.  If you were a 13 year old boy...

 

·         which of these two shirts would you prefer? Shirt 1 - Shirt 2

 

·         what would your size 18 shirt convert to in "small, medium, large" terms? (I can't find the answer online.)

 

·         what other badass gifts would you like?

 

I'm in New York next month, and then Toronto. Colorado in Jan, Jamaica in Feb. I'm still searching for cheap Cali travel deals. Why are trips to Cali more expensive than Cancun? It's so illogical. Seems like a lot of travelling, but I gotta get it all in before Japan (aka, the end of my life).

 

Well, that was random. Nothing to do with charity stuff.

 

Okay, dammit. I'll throw in the damn ship.  Sigh.  It's for a great cause. Gotta support our future scientists.

Edited 11.30.14 for brevity.



 

Painting with a Twist

This is just one wall of drawings.

"No drinking the Paint Water"

PwaTs are popping up all over the metropolitan area. It's a new way for women to get together, pretend to learn/build something, and drink.

 

Seriously. Drinking is encouraged. There's even a station in the back of each room with a bucket of ice for the bottles of booze the ladies bring. And the art instructor will wait patiently while the group of ladies set up shop.

 

They have a Monet painting!

The group leader - usually the birthday girl or other reason for the get totether - decides what we're going to draw based on thousands of images.

 

Clearly, I should've opted for the wine.

It actually is lots of fun. It's a relaxed way to randomly talk to strangers and poke fun at ourselves.

 

Did I mention there's booze?  I brought cupcakes and moscato. I think I've had enough drinking for a lifetime, so I opted for water. 



Holy Stinky Feet-Check, Batman!

Hey, there's a "bypass the line" line. How do I get over there?

#lateformygate
#stinkyfeet


 

Dreamlike

Erm...guess I forgot to put out
the candles before bed.

It's 5am in New Orleans. The tourists have finally gone back to their rooms for the night. Now, the locals come out to chat. 

 

Check out this amazing view. Balcony side and courtside. The office buildings in the distance are capped with fog. Isn't it beautiful? Like a cloak for a Klingon Bird of Prey.

 

I fell back to sleep in my croissant before I could watch the fog dissipate.

So Ordered

 

So we were talking about how if you're super late, you may have to forego a full shower and take a "Whore's Bath". For visitors not in the know (and guys), a "Whore's Bath" is what you take when you don't have time for the real thing. You may be late for an appointment, or just lazy. (Urban Dictionary's version here.) So you substitute standing at the sink and washing the important body parts for an actual shower. 

This sparked a debate about the variations of a Whore's Bath. Specifically, what constitutes a Whore's Bath? What are the parameters? For instance, what if you don't have any water? What if it's a really fancy bathroom? The scope of the matter, if you will. Heh.

Therefore, we, the Bathing Committee, have proposed and agreed upon the following terms and titles as they pertain to bathroom hygiene:

 

Swipe and Wipe

Moniker for "Whore's Bath", i.e., the act of washing oneself without the use or benefit of a continual stream of water (shower or bath), typically using a bathroom sink, requiring yoga-loke poses to complete the task. 

French Whore's Bath

Foregoing the razor & shaving cream during a wash up, even if it's direly needed.

Hooker's Bath

Washing up using the sink in the room of a pay-per-hour motel room's bathroom. 

Skank's Bath

Washing up using wet wipes.

8 Mile Road Bath

Using whiskey or vodka to clean your bullet wounds. 

 

Skeevy Bath

Using another person's washcloth to wash up.

 

Call Girl's Bath

Washing up using upscale bath products; washing up while using the shower steam to unwrinkle your dress; washing up in a bathroom with a bidet. 

 

The Morning After Bath

Washing up and then putting on makeup to pretend that you always look that way.

 

I Just Slept with a Murderer Bath

Running the shower while trying to exit via the bathroom window.

 

So it is ordered; so shall it be done.





Lunch with The Ladies (i.e., "The Popular Table")