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")



 

On Stepping Stones

Ever notice how a person who has confided in you, bounced ideas off of you, asked for your professional opinions...when the person finally made it big/gets rich/realizes his vision, then drops you like Ebola in favor of the shiny, suddenly attainable model? Suddenly, you're not worth that phone call saying, "hey...what's up?"

Or maybe you never really were. Maybe you were always the lease. 

#resolution

I punched a clown.

 

Standing in line with random groups
of strangers, pre-felony assault

In my defense, it happened inside a four story haunted house. The "world's largest haunted house", Erebus, to be exact.  And I had just been buried alive - they lock you alone in a small closet in total darkness and pour those plastic balls over your head until they fill up the closet and you can't move or breathe. And also, a giant spider grabbed me and I turned and ran smack-dab into a wall and possibly blacked out. And also I think I peed a little crawling through a shaky tunnel to get away from an axe murderer. Lastly in my defense, the clown literally jumped out from the corner I was just about to turn into. He was covered in blood and tried to attack me with a hatchet. I could feel his breath on my cheek. That was too close. And I thought he might be a red spider. So I punched him. And simultaneously screamed in his face, and then said something like, "Now fade to black on that, bitch."

I don't know what that means.  It just felt right.

Sigh. I may go to jail.

Listen. Fight or flight. It was either him or me. I saw him walk out of one of the emergency exits holding his nose. He'll be aiight.

 

#stayinclassy
#filteredtodeath
#erebus
#glitteronmyknuckles






 

Island

It is possible to blend in wholly but feel so completely alone.
 

Morning Tea

 

 

I may be in a random country bumpkin farmville prefecture with no anything...anywhere...

 

...no service, no locate me (I'm literally unfindable), no mall, no pubs, no Starbuck's, and the closest thing to a damn slurpee is a random coca cola vending machine 1/2 mile away ... baka!...

 

but I have to admit, its not a bad view to wake up to.

#playingwithfilters
#twdhappenssunday
#accidentallyfilteredthesceneryaway

OMW

 

#freewifi
#sake
#playingwithfilters

The Mindy Project

Mindy Kaling, you are now in the ISIS of Evil. 

Now, go sit over there in the corner with Julie Chen and stfu.

Bleh.

Woke up at 3am to a bloody pillow and a mouth full of blood. Not like "mixed with saliva". More like "instead of saliva". No pain or headache or anything. When I held my mouth open over the toilet, more blood streamed out. I couldn't find any injuries in my mouth. I looked in the mirror and just sort of calmly decided that I might be dying.  Yeesh...dramatic much?

 

Long story short, it was just a blood vessel in my nose that had ruptured from a bout of sneezing. The blood was draining into my mouth. That just required a saline spray. But apparently, I'm all kinds of influenza'd out. I don't think it was the flu shot. I think its from a whiny, stinky, screaming little mutant creature who sneezed in my face when I gave it a dirty look in the supermarket last week.

 

I swear, kids should be beamed onto an island until they're old enough to vote.

 

I posted the gory bloody photos to F/B for my mom, but I think they're too gross to post here.

 

This always happens right before my trip home. So now I get to infect the entire Japanese population.

#HowZombiesAreMade
#1stworldproblems
#ThePlotToEveryOutbreakMovie
#VoteForMandatoryTubeTying

Fishing after Work

 

Just left a networking party. Was driving off and happened to notice the riverfront just across the street. I saw a couple of cars parked on the abandoned street along the water, so I decided to check it out. Glad I did. Really nice small group of fishermen watching their bobbers and chatting. And ones cooking hot dogs on a teeny charcoal grill. My new friend Sam just taught me how to catch a spotted trout, and then I showed him how my dad use to catch bluegill. You have to snap the line with the current instead of against it. Don't be afraid to venture out. Just...wear comfortable shoes next time.

Get yours yet?

 

Never had a flu shot before. But they're doing them for free at my job, so what the heck. 

"Suuuure. I'd be happy to willingly subject myself to a mutant zombie viral injection into my bloodstream in hopes of catching the aforementioned virus thereby scaring away all of the less-scary  mutant viruses. "

Worthwhile

Visited a homeless community in Detroit with some girlfriends early this morning. Which basically means that we all meet up at an intersection where the homeless community hang out (typically near a temporary housing shelte), haul our lunches onto an open space on the ground, and hand the lunches to people who come up to us.

It can take hours, or minutes. It all depends on how many lunches you bring, and how many visitors you get. So it works better with a team. More stuff to distribute. But it is always rewarding. If you're lucky, you get to meet some really cool people.

The last time we did this, one of our visitors asked about hygiene items. Most of the ladies still did lunch bags today, but I'm not ashamed to admit that I begged a few to do toiletry bags instead. I think passing out personal hygiene items isn't as "cool" as passing out food. Little did I realize, toiletry stuff is also more expensive. Yeesh.

I packed:
 

* toilet tissue

* bar of soap
* hand sanitizer
* wet wipes
* comb
* tooth brush
* tooth paste
* shaving cream (men's bags)
* razor (men's bags)
* maxi pads (women's bags)
* Hershey's bar (women's bags)

* $5 local supermarket gift card

Out of everything we distributed today, the rolls of toilet paper were the big hit.  I hadn't considered how necessary and important toilet paper is to every human. One of those things you don't think about.

You should try this sometime. It's easier to plan than it seems. Contact your friends, decide what to pack and when/where to meet, pass out the bags. Really simple. And it's an easy way to remind yourself that, even when we're struggling, we still have something to give.

Give it a try. Email me if you need advice, or help getting started. I'll be in Japan next week. Not the big move, just a previously scheduled visit. I should go to the gym, but I'm exhausted. Slept really bad last night. Headed to bed.

Worth the trip

Benjamin Meyer, Chef de cuisine of the four diamond iridescence atop MotorCity casino hotel, and detroit free press columnist. I like introducing him that way because it makes me feel important. Like I'm the one with all the culinary acclamations. 

ANYway, chef asked me to come by the kitchen today to try out a couple new items he s thinking about adding for his new menu.  But he mentioned chocolate and I was sold.  Giant meatball pasta, chicken---, warm chocolate mouse with banana ice cream. This man is a genius. 

#stuffed

She loves me, she loves me not.

If I read yesterday's horoscope, I'm pretty sure it would've read,

"You will receive a great many kindnesses from the fairer sex."

One of our vendors, a woman, sent me a beautiful floral arrangement yesterday because I helped her get 17 past due invoices paid. She'd already emailed me a thank you letter last week, and asked for my boss's info to write a commendation about me.  I replied that it wasn't necessary, and that customers should be treated like guests. Although I'm technically her guest - my company pays her - our accounting department is a little out of whack at the moment, so I was acting as a liaison of sorts.

Carrying them from our front desk to my office was a huge conversation starter. They're really pretty. I put them on my desk as quickly and quietly as possible so as to not have to explain them, but my boss insisted I put them out for visitors to see.  Which didn't go over so well. More on that in a moment...

I got an "A" in my Beginners' Arabic class, so I get the full tuition reimbursement from my company. It should take 3 weeks to process, but the (female) payroll director says to expect it in next week's check. That's an extra $590 next week. WOOT! That's 393 cupcakes.  Or maybe 575 chocolate bars at the dollar store. Stupid state tax.

Then, I came home to find a check for $149 from my home alarm company in the mailbox.  I called the company, and the super nice customer service lady explained the rebate.

And then, I logged into Second Life, and a nice (female) friend bought/sent me a pretty kimono from an old favorite store.

Best day ever. Made me proud to be a woman. I was feelin' the love.  Sisterhood. *sigh*

Cut to today...

So, all of the managers in my new department are women. Pretty catty ones. They spend weeks  plotting and scheming against each other. It's like watching the Borgia family at work.  I feel horrible for the two new managers because they never see the landmines until they step on them. I want to draw a red "x" over each one for them, but they don't know me well enough to trust me. So I stay way away from it. WAY away from it. I stay in my office, focused on my two monitors, with earbuds in. I go to lunch alone, though I end up with company. I ask all of my visitors to call or email me instead of visiting. If I receive a male visitor with no true purpose for visiting, the office goes silent. When the visitor leaves, they commune together and giggle and theorize about my life. 

 

I get "employee of the year" awards and special mentions in executive meetings and a 2m fiscal budget, and I'm arguably the only unmarried woman in the office who doesn't embarrass herself by acting like a cat in heat, but still they find it worthwhile to walk by my door and make snide remarks about dating people you work with.

 

Another one of those "heavier things" I didn't feel like talking about. It really wears on me because I'm forced to go against my nature. I can't joke with them, or sing silly songs, or prank them. I can't give them the benefit of the doubt, because I know their work. I've seen it. And it is sharp and deadly.

 

So anyway, it's only been a day, but I've been getting serious attitude from those other managers since the flower delivery. Having them on display felt like I was bragging. I could almost smell the spray paint from the target on my back.

 

Yesterday afternoon, I removed the thank you card from the arrangement in hopes of laying low and out of the spotlight (and still appease the boss).  One of the aforementioned managers - the cattiest of the group (she complains a lot, flirts a lot, wears super tight, inappropriate clothing, holds entire phone conversations on speakerphone...even the sexual ones...even with men other than her husband [also a coworker],) - complained that my flowers are messing with her asthma, and that I need to take them home. She laughed as she said it, as if she were joking. But even that is way more attention than I ever want from her. She's dangerous. I've seen her in action. She did something really mean to Kristyl because of our friendship, and Kristyl could've been fired for it.

 

So I took the flowers home today.   

 

But...she gets flowers from random guys all the time. And she wears perfume. And I can't really smell these blooms.

 

Now, I just logged out of Second Life. I'm just sort of staring at my computer.  I visited a popular sim, and tried to start several conversations with the "women" in the room. Why the women? Because I'm not a desperate housewife. I'm looking for conversation, not attention. They all either ignored me or told me where they'd like me to go.

 

I feel kind of sad.

Seriously. I don't know how guys put up with us.

 

I didn't read today's horoscope, either. But if I did, it would read:

"Bitches be trippin'."

#99problems

6 months.

 

It's been 6 months since I last walked into my Obaachan's room. 6 months. And that was just to vacuum and dust. And immediately leave. Before then, I would stand just inside the doorway and become immediately overwhelmed with sadness and shame. 

 

I bought a rug to go over the weird stain on the floor in the hallway outside of her door. Her room is surprisingly clean.  Her plants are alive and thriving - vibrant, even - although they haven't had water or sunlight in months. This room is even free of spiderwebs and any signs of bugs. Maybe the insects heard me tell my brother that I would murderize anyone who stepped foot in here. 

I see her little bag of toiletries and the tv remote, magazines, her pills, her robe, a newspaper, her reading glasses...placed strategically throughout the room, so they would be in her arms' reach at the right moment. I suppose I did set things just so. Seems a little persnickety in retrospect. Her walker at the door for when she was on the move, now folded and resting against it. 

I sat some flowers on her table. I just opened the blinds and I can see all the crazy squirrels race all over the park. Why so many squirrels? Is this a hibernation thing? They need to move out of my way when I'm driving to work in the mornings. I'm tired of screaming at them. Okay, I'm tired of screaming at them because it doesn't seem to work. 

 

Hooky

Congratulations on getting engaged,
Iram...ugh. I can't believe you're
going to the dark side.

The boss let our department go home early due to an impending flood.  Even the local schools closed early. 

More time to kill some zombies.  Be warned...I like to shoot my teammates because I can blame it on my bad aim.  (As previously mentioned, I also like to shoot the zombies in the "loinal" region.)


LOL, Phoebe. No idea how you
even found this, but that's an
accurate representation.

Join me, won't you? I should probably pay some bills.  I'm so lazy.



I wanna punch Eve in the throat.

The cashier took so long to ring me up for midol and 2 candy bars that I wanted to spontaneously mutate into Predator circa 1987 and snap off his head with my pincer teeth and my boobs hurt so much I can't even look down at them without wincing in pain and I have this overwhelming need to bite someone and no matter how lovingly I cradle my stomach it still feels like theres a small village of ninjas on crack having a studio 54 party inside and so I will just sit very still like this on the side of my bed with my head on the pillow but if I could just reach my laptop with my foot and slide it over maybe my arms could find the strength to slide it up onto the bed and I could at least kill some zombies also the next text message or call or Skype or ding I get on my phone will result in the total annihilation of not only you but your future offspring by way of a Japanese voodoo curse that will turn your testes into balloon animals

 

 

#mothernaturemyass

 

 

 

 

The Oldest Story in the Book.

 

 

 

Girl receives BFF's distress call. Girl braves torrential storms and complete darkness to pick up cupcakes on the way to BFF's house.  Girl  is immediately hypnotized by BFF's shiny new curved TV and spends the duration of the evening in a trance-like state - smearing cupcake icing on her face, ruining BFF's furniture, and drooling over "Gravity".

#curvedTVistheDevil

#curvedTVistheNewJesus

#wetdog

#forgotwhaticamefor

#thankyouStarTrek

 

 

 

 

 

The Double Standard is Alive & Well, cheers.

Third comment already. Wait...this just in. Make that the forth. 

Why is it that whenever I post a photo with a man, he must be my boyfriend? Why can't he just be someone I know?  What does it say about me that I can't stand next to a man? Am I a slut who can't control myself around the opposite sex? Do you think that I'm so sheltered that I fall for the first guy that pops up? What's wrong with you people? Or what's wrong with me for thinking that you'll assume that maybe I don't hiss at men when it's time for photo ops. And what does it say about you?

I figured that anyone who bothered to read the post would see the event decor and people behind us, connect the dots, and realize that it might be one of the ROSE Awards finalists. But that's the conundrum, isn't it? You have to actually read the post.

This is why I never post photos of me with men. And why I will never ever post a date photo. Or maybe any photo of me ever. Or maybe anything super important in my life. 

Interesting. I post photos of me with women all the time. Why don't you assume we're lesbian lovers?

You see where I'm going with this?

#overit

#sofrustrated

carpe THIS diem.

The city is alive with all sorts of fun this weekend. So much that it's impossible to cram it all in.

* State Fair
* Arts, Beats & Eats Festival
* Taste Fest
* Renaissance Fair
* Jazz Festival

It's madness!

Got a jump on the weekend festivities and checked out the State Fair Friday after work.  Did the beach, the Taste Fest and Jazz Fest on Saturday.  Sunday night, I went to a cool terrace BBQ in the city. BBQ, wine, DJ, dance floor, amazing view of the city.

Actually, I think that was my favorite part of the weekend.

Attended this year's ROSE Awards last week. ROSE Awards is the Detroit Metro Convention/Visitors Bureau's hospitality awards. It basically honors workers in Detroit who demonstrate excellent customer service.  We had a couple of finalists, so I kind of had to go.  Turned out to be bad ass.

 

Today, I mostly drove along the shoreline in the rain with the windows down and sang N'Sync songs. Then I killed a few zombies. Now watching Man of Steel.

So, this happened. Aww yeah.

Our weather forecasts have been off the mark lately. It was supposed to rain all day on Saturday. Yet I got sunburn from the glaring sun. It was supposed to be sunny on Sunday, but it rained.

 

Not sure how I feel about this Superman. The son of Jor'el is one of the few superheroes born with his powers. Spiderman, Batman, Green Lantern, Iron Man, Bionic Man...pretty much every Marvel character, every superhero except for Superman and the XMen.  And Blade. But only half superpowers for Blade. And the Mortal Kombat characters, I guess. But they're not from comics, so they don't count.

 

I feel like there's a big lesson coming at the end. I'm gonna guess global warming. Seems like every scifi flick these days has a not-so-underlying message about ecology or religion or loving each other. Don't even get me started on The Matrix trilogy's blatant religious message.  Ugh. Stupid Matrix.

This Superman version is darker and maybe too serious. Also, Christopher Reeve was strong but quirky. This Superman is just kind of doe-eyed and surprised all the time.

 

Speaking of doe eyes, why is Lois Lane not a brunette this time? I swear, if I see a close up of Amy Adam's stupid giant blue eyes in one more movie, one more time...

 

And Zod. Best comic book villain ever created. When I was 8 or 9, I couldn't watch Superman because it was PG, so I pretended to do my homework while my brother watched it. Because of Zod.

 

 

 

In the 1980 movie version, Zod was all about wreaking havoc on poor defenseless humans.  He was large and in charge. And if General Zod told you to do something, you did NOT play around. You effing did it. He wore this awesome patent leather suit with these thigh high boots.  I just knew he owned a flogger.  No, I didn't actually know what a flogger was when I was 8.  Shut up.  I'm just saying that I knew he was different in a freaky grown up way.

 

The new Zod thinks too much. He's all angsty. He wants to rebuild Krypton with only the finest of his race. How Hitleresque.

Man, they are really tearing up the city. I always wonder who's going to pay for all the property damage after a superhero vs villain street fight.

 

Love & Hip Hop Atlanta Reunion Pt 2 comes on in a few mins. I think Benzino and Stevie get into a fight on stage because Joseline slept with both of them. Also, Mimi confronts whats his face because he leaked their sex tape. ZOMG.

On Book Covers

When I was 12, I wrote this story about a beautiful woman whose special powers were activated when she looked at you. Like Medusa, sort of. Every vampire in the world wanted to enslave her while they figured out how to steal her powers. Her powers caused all sorts of chaos in the vampire world. They fought constantly for ownership, sometimes killing each other's entire clans for the chance to kidnap the woman. They would almost kill her during the throes of their constant fighting, lock her up, hire special doctors to study her.  She hated her existence. Whenever she was close to death, some self-serving vampire would rescue her from it again. She would plead with the vampire to let her die, but the vampire would be so focused on using her powers to become the leader that he didn't notice how flawed and broken she was inside, or how her warped sense of self was turning her powers dark.

Some folks think the highest achievement we can hold is physical beauty. Not our own beauty - which is matchless and perfect - but our own beauty as it compares to the general standard of beauty.  Supermodels are defined by it. People spend their entire relationships performing grave disrespects to their partners because it's all covered under the "but he/she's hot" clause.  Superficially, a compliment about your appearance (for the sake of my rant, let's say the person isn't referring to your sense of style, or your sweet ass shoes.) is fantastic. It's a great resource as a quick attention whore fix.  And because it tends to be the thing by which we're most judged, we proudly take false ownership of it.

But  let's apply a little Spocktitude logic to this.

Our appearance is a genetic mash up of our folks'. That's why we're all beautiful. Our bodies are like giant fingerprints - all uniquely branded and made just for us from them.  Even among twins, our skin and lines and curves, or smile, our "beauty" - and in this way, we are all uniquely beautiful - are all thanks to them. 

When it comes to attraction, how you look shouldn't "make-or-break" matter. What should matter is what you do with your body. How you care for it. How you treat others. How you find ways to improve your life. How you appreciate the ingenuity of Star Trek. And all those things can't possibly be recognized by a stranger who tells you you're beautiful. 

I want...I wish people would dig deeper. I want to be acknowledged as a decent person. I want to own the composition of my parents' hearts: humility, poise, strength, curiosity, independence, integrity. 

 

I'm just realizing (as I type this) that my father may have had this in mind when he use to tell me,

 "If you didn't earn it, it isn't yours."

I always thought he was talking about my grades. He would stop the old Dodge in front of my high school and make me repeat it before getting out to head to class.  Hmm.

Diagram on personal identity measures
from "Promise of Potential"
(Jodi Davis)

 

As usual, I'm distracting myself from my own rant. I had this whole thing about guys and their loins here. But this is way too long already.

 

By the way, not just the girls. Guys, too. Charm and character replaces physical attractiveness any day in my opinion. Note my recent scent-marking on my own TV. I referred to the actor as "Downey Jr. sexy".

 

If Colin Farrell walked up to me, my nether region might light the sparklers and fire up the grill and bake a cake and blow up the balloons and call over the girls and throw confetti around, but I wouldn't introduce myself with, "You're hot." Although I have seen a great deal more of him in...um...other, more documentary-style films. Okay bad example all around.

 

Btw, the character in the story I mentioned earlier isn't a character representation of me. She was yoroppa hita. Blond hair, green eyes, tall. A representation of what I recognized as the western (and now, eastern) standard of beauty.

 

So, you think someone is physically attractive?  That's great. But who are they on the inside? Is he a good person? Is she a bitch?  Does he work hard? Is she nice to people? Do you care?

 

"Promise of Potential" author Jodi Davis defines "identity" as a collection of all things above and below our surface. Social classifications, preferences, gifts, talents. I've been working on a post about surface vs. hidden classifications for a while. But for the sake of this post, the key point is that we are the sum of our experiences and choices. I think that's a quote from somewhere.

 

Sigh. I keep changing my point. I started this post wanting to explain my perspective on the one thing...then it evolved into a whole other thing...now, my point is something completely different. It's really difficult to stay focused for this long because, although I'm typing 100 miles per minute, I'm a visual learner and my thoughts come to me in images which is why its difficult to explain things sometimes...also, the series finale of True Blood is on.  So far, not impressed. Out like a lamb, it seems.

 

My ramblings are getting longer. It's like some kind of senility.  Look. If you're reading this post, chances are you already know I'm a little bit strange.   No point in sugar coating it.  Seriously, could you imagine going anywhere with me? You'd have no idea what I was talking about the entire time.

 

My new point is this: Don't use physical appearance as the reason you decide to get to know someone or not. (That's the grandfather of "yellow fever", btw.) You might be ignoring a whole lot of really good people. And that wouldn't be fair to you or them.

 

Physical characteristics simply aren't the true barometer of a person's worth. In the end, I want to be remembered for beautifully carrying the best features of my parents' hearts.  Not their bodies.

 

 

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