belated farewell

(robin, yours truly, jenny)
last week i bid farewell to robin & josh (miss them already)...i'm sure i'll be seeing her soon!!!

BYE ROBIN, BYE MR. BARDY--enjoy ohio, your mansion, and working in your jj's!

the hardest person on your list

I haven't blogged for some time now, and the last time I did blog, it wasn't happy.

I also haven't done one ounce of Christmas shopping. My list isn't long,
so I'm not worried. But I got to thinking--some people have very long
lists, other's have lists that include pets, and then there are those
who put their drug dealer on their "to buy for" list. Now there's a
question you don't hear everyday, "what should I get my drug dealer for
Christmas?"

I've really been thinking about this--not because I
have a dealer--but because I'm obsessed with what type of gift one
would give the guy who makes you happiest all year round. What would a drug dealer like to see under their Christmas tree? Maybe a new pair of socks? I bet they get cold feet from nervous transactions. How about nice scarf? Maybe you could get him a magazine subscription, although I doubt that would work as I'm sure he doesn't live in one place for too long. Do you think drug dealers wear pajamas? Isn't this perplexing? My vote is yes. It's not like you can give this guy an 8 ball, 8 ounces of pot, or 8 tabs of e...sheesh. These are a mobile group of people, household items would never do. I bet we'd be surprised to find out that dealers would love to haveporcelain tea cups, a nice bottle of wine, or a book (they read a lot from what i hear).

So I don't think it's people with bratty children who want PS3's, Bratz Dollz, or legos that have it hard. It's people who have drug dealers that have the hardest time shopping! What are you getting your dealer? I think just letting you know you appreciate him would be more than enough. He doesn't hear that often!!!

i hate my life

dramatic? a little bit.

but i have good reason...

[repeat]

i hate my life

[repeat]

i hate my life

[repeat]

i hate my life today, tomorrow, wednesday and thursday.

i should start enjoying life again by friday or on jan. 1st

i hate my life

billie's jeans

It's another rainy day, but I'm ok with that.

I arrived at work today and synced le pod into my machine as I always do. My listening taste varies. Some days I'm in the mood for Madge (no surprise, I'm sure), Mickey, or trance thumping, other days I want to listen to the solemn tunes of Death Cab, or those nostaligic beats of old from Billie, Frank, and Ella. But today I wanted nothing more than Michael Jackson. I think he's a total weirdo these days, but nothing gets me more amped than Billie Jean. I have to argue that this is the best song ever...yes EVER!

There's a lot of great music out there, but this song is timeless really. Have you ever met anyone who doesn't like Billie Jean? If ever I'm out, gettin' "crunk" someone plays this song and everyone gets so excited! If a party sucks, play MJ--you will get results. I once told Amanda (who is back in less than a week...yay) that whenever I get married (if I do) Billie Jean is going to be my wedding song. She said that's not a very appropriate for a wedding song. She's right, but I still love it.

Here's a little story: In July 1986, there was a little program called the Victory Tour. I was only two, but strangely MJ ignited a fire within me at a young age. He came on singing Billie Jean and broke into his famed moonwalk which caused this young child to jump up and down and scream, "whooo hoooo!" My mother told my aunt that MJ had a strange hold on children (future events revealed her clairvoyance). By three y.o. my bedroom walls had posters of Jacko, and my "Puff-a-lumps" record player blared the sounds of Thriller on vinyl.

I heart Billie Jean, eventhough she's not my lover...


MJ Moonwalks (click here)

black swan's tumultuous ending

I think it goes without saying, this has been an interesting week for me. I'm glad it has come to an end. In honor of ending the week of Dec. 4, 2006 I had a nice cry. After all of my relaxation, shakes, and frustration (those things don't seem to mix), I gave my ducts some exercise. Reasons available upon request.

I'm thinking I should take my pennies and move to Paris. The French will hate me for the first six months, but once I immerse myself in Parisian culture they'll love me--their little black swan. Nicholas sent me a link to style.com to which Scott Schuman, author of the beloved satorialist, contributes. I viewed a few of his photos from Paris Fashion week and decided that I had to be apart of that fashion parade. Wow, those people pull out all of the stops and really embrace the season. California style is boring, uneventful, and never leaves a lasting impression (look at those hollywood "it" girls).

I should really make a point at learning French (and taking it seriously). If I can't live there, perhaps I can visit soon. Change is always welcomed at my door. Just imagine it--me with no real job, a fabulous coat, great hair, before a really good looking French boy (yes, he'll be younger than I--a first) and a glass of Bordeaux.

"Liberté, égalité, fraternité, ou la mort!" ("Liberty, equality, fraternity, or death!")...the slogan of the French Revolution. Dramatic, yes. But very fitting.

when it's more than a party

I am excited to report that this month I will attend more parties than in all of my December's combined (i'm lying a little bit). See my list...

*Mike & Katie's Chrismahanukwanzka party (12/02)
*A "Cookie Party" (12/03)
*The GenArt Film Party
*Josh & Robin's farewell bowling party
* NCBPMA Party
*My Company Holiday Party
*My Family Christmas party (in Simi Valley, blech)
*Paul & Craig's Christmas Eve Eve Gathering.

That last party is what prompted this post. I've received some nice invites to all of these fetes, however none as exciting as the one waiting in my gmail box from Paul. Read it and let me know you'd like to be my date.

Press Release
Holiday Gathering

Riverside, Calif. ---- On the eve before the eve of December 25, 2006 you are invited to a medium-sized holiday gathering. Mr. Paul ____ and Mr. Craig ____ will host friends and selected family at their Riverside compound.

Paul and Craig will provide some premium alcohol products. The couple will also offer light food. Menu items include, but are not limited to, simple carbohydrates and slices of processed meat.

Never have Paul and Craig invited more than five people to their home at one time. They purchased the residence in April. By the time of this event Craig and Paul claim they will have plumbing, running water and electricity.

When: December 23, 2006
Where: (the address has been removed so you
don't stalk my friends)
Earth
Time: 3:45pm to 11:05pm

Please join us. RSVP by December 19, 2006 via telephone or telegraph at ______. (If carrier pigeon is used to RSVP, it may become part of the evening menu.)

A strict no gifts policy will be enforced.

scrub scrub

While I was certainly suffering from a case of the Monday blues yesterday, I managed to find some solace in the spa with a full body scrub and mask. As a result of my new freelancing gig, I've been awarded with lots of free product and tenement.

Upon my arrival I was delightful greeted by a nice woman who instantly offered me a glass of champagne. I gladly accepted the offer. I slithered out of my clothes and my skivvies and into a plush terry robe (haha..see previous post). I made my way to the ladies waiting room where there sat brie and crackers, sliced cucumbers, grapes, and brownies! After a few moments of noshing, Rhonda my specialist arrived. She greeted me and gave me a run down of how things would work...this is the exciting part...

Rhonda guided me into a room that was much like a cave. I positioned myself face up on a platform (draped, so my goods were covered--no Britney moments here). I was then slathered with a cranberry scrub from neck to toes. This was followed by a warm rinse and application of a pomegranate-honey mask. Rhonda then left the room and I sat alone as my cave filled with steam. So, knowing this treatment was all natural, I opened my eyes, looked around to make sure i was alone and had a taste of the mask..hahahaha. I felt a bit silly, but soon the ceiling began to rain (it lasted for 3 minutes) and rinsed me. After my rinse, I made my way to an alcove where warm towels, my robe and citrus shea butter waited for me. Rhonda arrived and offered up another glass of bubbles, I said, "yes, please." So, while most of Monday was dismal, it came to a pleasant end. I am now an even more firm believer in the power of a good scrub and a spa day.

FUTURE ADVICE: Invoke your inner "rich, white lady" and make your way to the nearest spa as soon as you feel your Monday blues approaching.

post sunday blues

It's 12:55pm and I've done nothing today. I've sat at my computer acting as a slave to my inbox. I have refreshed my mailbox about 15 times within the last 20 minutes (both work and personal accounts). I'm drained.

I had a chat last night that upset me a bit. It made me realize how so many of my decisions are not my decisions. I'm at the mercy of devices, mandates, and/or other individuals. They make decisions and set the rules, while I painfully oblige and blindfully accept them as my own. In the end, I question my ability to make choices, I question my ability to function as an adult, I question if I'm really the independent and socially capable individual that I believe myself to be. I'm sure I go through this questioning only out of paranoia, but I really feel like I'm not as in control as I would like. I'm losing my drive and my ambition.

In the past year, I've noticed a pattern in my behavior. I approach so many things with gusto, high hopes, high expectations, and genuine delight. However, as time goes on I lose the excitement. Is this something that comes with age? Do things progressively become more and more dull? I hope not, because that makes me want a pharmie.

I'm suffering from a total case of the Monday's.

december excitement

For some odd reason I'm excited today. Maybe it's because it's Friday or maybe it's because I'm babysitting Leo tonight or maybe because Christmas is coming. I'm looking forward to exchanging gifts with friends, seeing the nutcracker, making Christmas breakfast, and all of the lights.

I've decided that I'm going to avoid the insanity of shopping. I'm going to do most of it online...and I won't be doing that much anyway. When I really start thinking about Christmas shopping, I wonder how the hell my mother did it. As most of you know, I was an only child for ten years (and sometimes I'm still treated like one). I like to describe my younger self as my mother's living doll. This is not to discredit her parenting by any means, but she indulged me.

While most children ran to their trees to find a few great packages with their name on it. I think all but 6 packages under our Christmas tree were for me. I vivdly remember two Christmas's in particular--1989 and 1991. I'll dedicate today to 1989.

I was 5 yrs. old and a sassy kindergartener. On Christmas morning, 1989, our Christmas tree was filled with gifts. Most of which were mine. My mother put on the Christmas music as I tore into my loot. I received a new bike, a vcr, a race car, dolls, a doll house, stuffed animals, a tea set, a hot pink punk wig, clothes, jammies, shoes, undies, a mug for hot chocolate, new ballet slippers, new leotards, tights, a Minnie Mouse pillow with arms and legs...oh my god the list goes on. So when thinking about this insane/obsurd list, I wonder how my mother had time to enjoy the holiday season. It seemed she was constantly primping me, putting me in ruffled socks and dresses, shopping for me, and baking cakes. Wouldn't she have rather said forget it and just sent out Christmas cards??