1.25.15 Dailies

SUNDAY 

Watching the Miss Universe pageant makes me want to eat a whole cake. 

 

A thee-layered cake.  Made with extra butter. With a giant layer of frosting.

 

Sigh.

WEDNESDAY 

I live next to a small community park.  

 

Well, it's not so much an actual "park" as it is a block-long patch of trees with a couple of park benches thrown in.

 

There's my house, the street, then the park.

 

The "park" is becoming more and more  popular with people from neighboring communities. It's really quiet (my community is pretty much all older Jewish people) and there's lots of shade. Plus, it's really close to the shoreline. 

 

Lately, there's been a person sitting in a car parked in front of my house (which is the edge of the park) as I leave work in the morning. Not the same person. Always a different car. Young, white male or female. 

 

This morning, I woke up early and watched the news downstairs, and peeped the front of my house.

 



How to gawk at your neighbors.

Turns out, it's a prime location for drive-by drug deals. Here's how it works...

The buyer will park and make a call to his/her seller, and wait.

The seller will drive up in the opposite direction, driver-to-driver.

The buyer and seller will extend their arms and make the trade.

Both cars will speed off.
I saw this in action twice this morning and actually said aloud, "Oh, no you dit-ent!"

 

So here's what's up. 

 

The next car that pulls up, I'm walking out there to take their picture (making sure they see me do it), or I'll go off on them. Or both. Either way, they're about to take their shit elsewhere. I am not spending my last few months in the U S of A staring at druggies making buys. Take y'all asses back to the trailer park.

FRIDAY

Mythbuster #239: You don't need a man (*cough*Kristyl*cough*) to shovel your snow.  Get your arse out there!



Sigh...I miss you already,
electric blanket.

SATURDAY

When you gotta shovel the porch for your mailman, but you're too lazy to change from your bed clothes...

 



 

1.19.15 Dailies

MONDAY

Today's a paid holiday for Amurrkan peeps. MLK Day, fools!

Been oot and aboot with Canadian bestie Shilah.

Why do Canadians like to wake up so early? I think its the free health care.

And their general refusal to answer the phone when their girlfriends call from overseas in the aftermath of a damn quake and are desperately trying to reach them to hear someone they actually recognize and speaks English but they don't answer because they're busy looking for their next victim...

Sigh.  Okay, I'm back.

Got a scientific formula for you: Ice skating + brunch + shopping = Broke/Tired

Floor length skirts make you look amazingly thin. BUT you can't wear a layer over it, like a jacket or belt. 

If you didn't know this, ladies, you're welcome.

If you did know but didn't tell me, I will murderize you.

FRIDAY

I checked out The Boy Next Door tonight with the bff. I didn't expect much, considering JLo's last big film was the horrible Enough, but The Boy Next Door was actually really good.  I don't know who the guy is that plays the guy next door, but he was effectively hot and menacing. He is a beautiful man. The sex scene was omg.  And the audience agreed. The best part about seeing new movies like this with an audience full of women is the constant cat calls. The second best part is that the few unfortunate men in the audience have to suffer through the women offering lude suggestions to the people on the screen. 

 

Right now, I'm sitting on a sofa away from the madness at V. I'll be honest. If we weren't in a sectioned off area, and I didn't promise to enjoy a glass this wine, I would've been outta here a long time ago.

 

 SATURDAY

:(

 

1.11.15 Dailies

SUNDAY

Check out this amazing video.  A man in Perth, Australia gets his leg caught in the open space between a train and the walkway.  The crowd of strangers come together to quickly save the man. They rock the train car until the man is finally freed. It took the teamwork of this group of random strangers to free the man no one knew.



With the wolf pack to Punch Bowl Social, a new spot in

downtown Detroit. This place is awesome - a pub with a bowling

alley with shuffleboard with karaoke with more swanky dinner

service if you choose.

The most notable thing in this video for me is that the people did it without second guessing themselves. No one thought, "Screw this. I'm late for work." I want to be the person right in the middle of the crowd. You can barely see him in the sea of people helping. But without him, it may not have worked.

My goal is to perform an anonymous act of kindness. Every day, for the rest of this year. 

Let's all try to do something kind to someone we don't know every day. It could be anything. Maybe pay for someone else's gas when you're at the gas station. Or buy someone else's drink. Or something seemingly smaller. Like smiling warmly at a stranger.

You never know how burdensome someone's day might be. And offering a kind smile might impact them more than you know.

It's the most humble gift you can offer.

So write me. And let me know what you did today to help someone you've never met.

MONDAY



Ugh..hate calling in.
Esp. when your boss
doesn't answer his phone.

Stuck at home sick today. My own fault for pretending to know how to cook.  I was talking with a friend about my katana collection. It's not really a collection on purpose. Just that I have more than one. I have 4. Some were given to me by my Father for accomplishments, one I'm pretty sure is an heirloom, one has a hand-braided tsuka, one is an old ivory one (shh!) and an old crusty one I found at a flea market once...I'm sure I blogged about finding it, but I can't find the post. I couldn't believe that the owners thought it was an old rusty knife. I got it for 3 bucks, I think.

Although searching through my old posts made me laugh..a LOT. I don't even remember this. But it's hilarious.

Okay, I don't remember the point of my post.  Sigh.

I'm getting old.


TUESDAY

I don't know if it's my phone or the app, but ClipStitch has been really janky for me lately. So anyone who caught my singing in the mirror video before I could remove it, my most humble apologies for making you suffer through that. The app is adding the correct videos to the file, but ultimately saving other videos stored on my phone.

Thanks, Aussie-and-proud David for catching my erroneous caption about  the train car video above. It happened in Australia, not Scotland. (They don't "seem" Australian, though...Australians have a kind of way about them...don't you agree?)

To answer another question, I don't fear that my mother will read my very personal blog posts anymore. She doesn't read my blog. The only reason she did in the first place is because she accidentally set my blog page as her home page. My mom barely even checks her Facebook messages. Smh. 

I rescheduled my California trip to March. This will be the last opportunity I get to visit an old friend from the hood. Our lives ended up taking different paths, but she's still my oldest and best friend. She can't visit me once I'm in Japan because she's not allowed to leave the country. No, seriously. 

I rescheduled to March because she's forcing me to go hiking.

In mountains.

There are spiders in mountains.

WEDNESDAY

Oooh... "The Loft" looks pretty sexy. 

Open > Fandango App > find theater > buy ticket > pick seat > and DONE.

THURSDAY

Robot steals sad, lowly office laborer's chocolate. News at 11.

FRIDAY

I got an evening gown hanging behind me. I'm supposed to be st this year's NAIAS black tie charity ball in 1 hour. But I'm stuck at my desk staring at cms codes.

le sigh.

My shoe vid from last year's NAIAS.

1.5.15 Dailies

MONDAY

Wow...so there's no prescription required for the Plan B pill anymore?

For the benefit of any hermits who happen to surf by, Plan B (aka, "The Morning After Pill") can be taken by a woman in lieu of preplanned protection (i.e., condoms). If taken within 72 hours (?) after the givin' up of the goods, the fertilization process stops.  Or something.

Consider it the halfway point between birth control pills and abortion.

 

I can't get over the whole casual tone in the commercial. And the catchphrase: "For the perfectly imperfect"?

 

Really? 

 

No.

 

"Perfectly imperfect" is when you're drawing a cat eye with your liquid eyeliner and make one eye thicker than the other.

 

Foregoing protection against (STDs and) unwanted pregnancy because you can just "think about that tomorrow" is "perfectly irresponsible", Scarlett.

 

Whatever happened to responsibility? And a little friggin foresight?

Now we've removed the guilt from carelessness?

 

I mean...WTF, people?

 

A couple of years ago, the pill had to be prescribed by a doctor.  I remember this because all of the annoying local abortion clinic commercials suddenly promoted Plan B. In particular, the girl in the tv spot for the clinic on 8 Mile excitedly exclaimed that they had "doctors on-call 24/7 to prescribe the Plan B pill just for you!"

It's about that time.

So before I go off on this tangent I can feel brewing in my gut, please let me explain some stuff.

 

First, I do acknowledge that the actors in the commercial are adult-ish. But you and I both know that Women's Capital Corp. is banking (literally) on the gazillions of teens who'll need it more.

Second, I'm all for women's choice. It is my decision ...not my government's...how I live my life and what I do to my body.

 

Also,  I recognize that (in some situations), this method of birth control has great merit.  I watch Law & Order: SVU. And (embarrassing confession that may actually help someone else) I was recently prescribed it along with a battery of tests during a recently glossed over emergency room visit. And I'm thankful for it.

But for teenagers at home with no parents around and way too much time on their hands and that stupid Mike Jay song in their ears and Nicki Minaj teaching them how to twerk on Video Vibe...

 

...Seriously. That video came on all New Years Day....

Its just...I feel like...it's just too easy.

Ironically, it's too easy to get the pill, but the fallout can be complicated:

1. If no doctor's visit is required, there's no parental consent. If you're not old enough, just get your older buddy to show i.d. for you.

2. You don't have to tell your parents that you've been skankin' it up, so there's no chance of discovery or scolding or chasing you with a hammer or whatever parents do these days.  Which is apparently nothing if a post pubescent teen can buy a morning after pill in Aisle 7 of the local Rite Aid.

3 .Without enlightened parents or medical folks, you're now self-assessing and prescribing.

4. If you're taking stuff you don't need, who knows what else you might be doing to your body?

 

I foresee a dramatic rise in the number of STDs.

See, this is why I'll never have kids.  My uterus is literally imploding right now.

Am I being narrow minded?

TUESDAY
It's hard out here for a pimp.


THURSDAY

I went to see Dracula Untold at the dollar show yesterday. I'd seen it already, but it's 2 degrees outside (-16 Celsius) and my house temp won't go above 68. So, like a homeless person, I found my seat and hovered over my popcorn to steal the steam all hunched over with my coat all bunched up around my face. 

 

Alone, cause that's how I like it.

 

But this couple next to me. Oy vey.  They were in "couple heat".

 

They couldn't keep the stupid "new relationship" stench to themselves (theirselves? it's plural...). It was like they'd never been to a theater before. Eating popcorn was a damned celebratory event. As if the butter had sparkles. Recliner seats were some fancy new invention. Oh, and talking during previews was oh so cool.

 

And then they got all cuddly...which was gross...and I could hear the skin on his fingertips stroking the rayon on the sleeve of her shirt.

 

Seriously. I could HEAR. It.

 

Like nails to a chalkboard. Grating my ears. Every two seconds he would stroke her arm and my head would explode.  I could hear it over the previews. Even over their whispering and giggling. 

I gave them my Father's "I will murder you" glare several times, daring them to start some shit. But nooo. They couldn't see me over all the damn butterflies flitting around...blech. 

I hate couples. Their incessant giddiness and inside jokes and stupid smirks insult my sense of maturity and intellect and independence. You look stupid. And it'll be over soon enough.

 

Calm your asses down. 

SATURDAY


Wait...the spinach and tomatoes
go INSIDE the egg? Sigh.

Well, since I'm headed for domestication, I should probably start learning to cook like an adult.

 

I tried to make an omelet.

 

Okay in my defense, I've never made an omelet before. Why I didn't YouTube (my go-to for everything) a few tutorials first I'll never know.

 

 

12.29.14 Dailies

MONDAY


"The Ladies". Always texting,
always popular, always entertaining.
It's high school all over again.

Why is Nick Jonas' new song so catchy? I love how throwback 80's music is popular right now. And when did Nick Jonas graduate from cheesy boy band dude to hot new solo artist?

These things trouble me.

Don't believe me? Every woman at the ice rink the other day sang along when "Jealous" played. All ages, ethnicities. Kristyl and I tried unsuccessfully to hit the high notes and scared a few people.

I brought this weighty topic to the lunch table today for the consideration of The Ladies of the The Popular Table. After much debate (mostly while texting, so they were only partly paying attention), The Committee will henceforth refers to this phenomenon as the "Justin Timberlake Blueprint".

The Justin Timberlake Blueprint

Member of popular/cheesy boy band breaks away from the group and successfully rebrands himself as a hot solo artist.

Step 1: Separate yourself from your cheesy boy band image by doing something raunchy. (aka, "the Miley Cyrus strategy").

Step 2: Your breakout hit must border the pop/r&b genres. Once played on an r&b station, you're in.

Step 3: Your breakout hit must contain lyrics that makes us feel sexy or beautiful.

Step 4: Throw in lots of high notes for the ladies to swoon over. We love it when guys hit the high notes. It's like a singer's way of saying, "I'm comfortable enough with my sexuality to hit that note."

So ordered.





TUESDAY
lol!!!


Best Triple Bitchslap Performed by a Burrito



WEDNESDAY

Forgot to post something before I left.

 

This year was an interesting year. I learned a whole lot more about myself...including things I really didn't want to know. I learned that I'm getting older. My body is changing, I'm growing more stubborn, and my butt is out of control.

 

I learned that I am fragile, but kind. I learned that humility and acts of kindness go hand-in-hand. I learned that a stranger's kind face can hide a heart of hate and destruction. And that a friend doesn't just chat with you every day, or about the easy stuff, but will be there when you want to talk about the cringe-worthy stuff. I unwillingly recognized the importance of financial stability and DIY'ing (doing it myself).

 

I discovered that my want for independence masks a deeper need for protection and security, and my mistrust in things/people that promise them. In a circular irony, the people that promise what I need are the very people from whom I run. 

 

A large part of my path for 2015 is immovable. I can't escape it and therefore I have to accept it and embrace it. I have to consider it when making my resolutions. I resolve to be more patient. I vow to buy fewer pairs of shoes and way more corsets. I vow to try to watch Star Wars, geezus god...again.

 

I said try.

 

I promise to visit the spider exhibit at the Oregon Insect Zoo during my visit to Portland next month. Did I ever mention why I'm afraid of spiders? So one day I did something bad...can't remember what...and my father sat me in a closet. And I remember all these teeny little white spiders hatching from an egg somewhere on the ceiling and gliding down all around me.  There had to be hundreds. I remember swatting at them and crying for my father to let me out. I could've just opened the door, but He'd told me to stay put.

 

So spiders in 2015.

 

Most importantly, I resolve to gain more humility. I need to grasp the insignificance of my place on this planet. Because I want to feel the obligation to help others without regard for my own self-perceived importance. 

 

Ake mashite omedeto, peeps.

THURSDAY

No work today...Holiday Pay Say WHAAA!?

 

DAMMIT I forgot I'm salary now.

 

Took my cousin to 526 in Royal Oak, then we walked across the street to a spot to catch up. We ordered way too much food. Don't you hate being that one person who walks around the entire city with a carry out container like its your scraps for the rest of the week?  lol

 

I'm addicted to photo insta effecting. 

 

Insta effecting. That's a thing.  Don't argue with me.

 

Currently crushing on the InstaCollage app. Not to be confused with love.  Because I'm currently in love with my electric blanket.  Always and forever. Yes, I know those are words to a song. I've sung them to my blanket.

 

Seriously.  Warm it up for like 10 minutes before bedtime, and you'll swear you're sliding into heaven's pearly gates.

 

Even if you're a strong atheist. The blanket will convert you.

FRIDAY

I messed up a perfectly good plot of land in Second Life. It was just right two months ago. Fall forest. Then I decided to winter up.  No idea why. So I'll log on to star and laugh or point or move something to the left or right or pay rent. I'm calling it a work in progress.



SATURDAY

Meanwhile, in my damn uterus...

 

 

 

 



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.