Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Samanth Who is a very dissapointing and boring TV show

Therefore you need entertainment:

Come on get in the boat! Fish! Come on get in the boat! Fish! Fish!

To clarify: The above is homestarrunner.com. The below is xkcd.com. There are two different links in here, I just didn't write well. What else is new?

Now, go visit my imaginary internet boyfriend. I love him. Go back to the very beginning of the archives and read all the way through. It is both educational and hilarious. Now if only he would return my calls...

Fish! Fish!

Monday, November 26, 2007

Quiet Monday

I did not make it out the other night. Had it been 1) Three hours earlier 2) didn't require an entire outfit in white which I did not own 3) wasn't a logistical nightmare (cabs are not so safe for a gal traveling alone in my city) or any combination of the above I so would have gone. Naturally that was probably my last chance ever to go out to a swank nightclub party and now I'll just wither and die alone but you know, whatever.

My wrist and forearm condition has been not nearly the trouble it was at my old job so being the FOOL that I am I tried to knit. I now have a scraggly three inch start to a scarf and I can hardly brush my hair much less type. It is not so much the pain; more the numbness. How do I know if I'm hitting the right keys if I can't feel them? Gah. I have a doc appt on Wednesday and I'll probaly have to go back to wearing my braces full time again. That is my excuse, albeit a very true and good one, for slacking on the comments and the posting.

Drink something for me tonight, I have to cut waaaaayyyyy back on the alcohol. Apparently a drink or five every night for two months equals ten new pounds. Hot.

Oh Bacardi, how I miss thee and your companion cranberry juice. *SIGH*

Saturday, November 24, 2007

I'm making you choose for me, but think fast, because I only have four hours to decide

Okay, do I want to try to drum up an outfit in white (which is impossible since I only own white dress shirts so would have to wear pants of some color) and get all dolled up to go out at midnight to a huge nightclub in downtown which will be a major logistical hassle to hang out with a group of people, only one on which I know, in a club that plays music so loud my ears will bleed but at least I am being freaking social;

Or, do I stay home, sip a cranberry bacardi and catch up on TV online thus proving once and for all that I am a hermit and not cut out for the fast life?

Which is it people?

Damn decisions.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

gobble gobble

Happy Thanksgiving My United States Peeps!

If you don't live in the good ole US of A may I recommend that you use today as an excuse to gorge yourself on food and be grateful for all the good things in your life?

Because really, we should all be spending every day we have grateful and thankful for the little things and at least once a month we should eat like gluttonous fools. Those are my rules for life anyway.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007


So guess who is drunk? On a work night? If you said Eris you would be right.

Tra la la so drunk.

And I have to work tomorrow. Damn people, they are bad influences. I didn't drink sake out ot a STRAW is all I'm saying.

Andy: But sake is actually quite good via straw. I'm quite, uh, tipsy at the moment. I tried a cool Jackie Chan-style get up off the ground and nearly failed miserably. My mind is babbling incoherent thoughts that my mouth and fingers refuse to type out of good taste. But I'm having an incredible time, as per usual. What's more... I am truly a bad influence. I mean, who wants to work tomorrow anyway. She looks sick. *cough cough* She looks terribly sick.

Eris: Oh yes, so damn sick. How did somehone force me to drink two large sakes and two or maybe three (who can remember) vodka tonics at that bar and now we may delve into cranberry barcardis. Maybe I made myself. I'm sorry, Tuesday, what is that? Are we drunk? Noooooooooo.. Okay, yes. Hell yes. We may wind up conceiving an unknown love child tonight. Does Eris have to work tomotorrow? Oh yes, so very much yes. Fuck this is a bad idea. My freshman highschool yearbook already made its way out. Andy had his digital camera out so um...crap....it it his turn...

Andy: I promise not to complain when the morning sickness kicks in. And for the record - said apartment looks 10x more fantasic that I could have bloody dreamed of. And I, for one, never realized that the third riech meant Germany. Oh, sorry, there I am quoting "The Producers" whilst drunk and in the middle of blogging. I haven't fallen over yet. But I'm sure that Eris is sick and will be unable to attend work on the morrow. I don't work until next week, at which time my job will be wine so I have no problems with the current situation... did that make sense? I cant' tell right now. My IQ seems to drop every time I stand up and wobble. But, for the official record, Eris is very beautiful tonight.

Eris: Awwwwwww, thank you. Maya wants to have babies with Andy but I'm not telling, Nooooooooooo, not at all. Her text says he is "hawt" and he has already offered to withstand morning sickness for ms so he wins the best guy ever award. We are still deciding who gets the couch and who gets the bed. Have I mentioned that I WORK TOMORROW? And Andy just gave me my bacardi and cranberry drink? Why doesn't anyone else ever come visit me from the blog world, I mean, I am a total blast here people. The drunkeness, the work tomorrow, the pictures, the highschool memories (real or drunkenly made up) we so rock. YOU LOVE ME BITCHES. Yo SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO wish you were shere.

Andy: I feel like a child right now. Well, a child raised like Drew Barrymore. I'm fairly buzzed and well on my way to completely inebriated. I drove back from the sushi place (and subsequent bar visit). That was rough. I know I'm a "good" drunk driver but therein lies the problem. Granted I have't been buzzed in months... but still. Alas, here be a damsel in distress. Work distress. And I shall save her! Work, as we all know, is for fools. And Eris is no fool. Thus, as logical statements go, since work is, in fact, for fools, and Eris is no fool, it seems as though we've reached the conclusion that she shan't go to work tomorrow. But seriously, you should see her, she's gorgeous!

Eris: Um, I have to work. Money good. OMG if you guys saw the typing errors I've committed you would cry. This is totally the first drunken post I've ever completed with someone. Can't type: totally horrid right now. Feh. Where was I? Should Any take the bed or the couch? He is lifting my 3 pound weights right now and making fun of me. MFer. I'm a lightweight okay? And so so so so so so drunk. Holy hell am I drunk. How the hell am I supposed to make it to work tomorrow. Andy was going to get his yoga certification. Now he is tryng to do some kind of crow pose. I may have to call the paramedics soon. Did you know that he was a paramedic once? And a personal massuese? Yeah, he was. Among otyher things. He totally did stand up comedy one time which I am wayyyyyyyyyy toooooo wussy to do but he did. Totally. I wasn't quite there but I am now. And I need more water. Gah.

Andy: Crow pose: unsuccessful. Perhaps due to certain balance issues at present. Perhaps. Otherly... I am quite skilled in the powers of persuasion. She won't go tomorrow. She'd rather do something fun like hiking or... or... damn, too drunk to make a list. Damn. Alas, what? Argh. My legs are sitting on the couch while I am across the room typing. It's amazing that my lower body can be more than ten feet from me and still function. I just watched my legs, from across the room mind you, cross at the knee (the "dude" way). I'm amazing and quite talented while drunk. What was I saying? Oh yeah! She couldn't possibly work tomorrow. Think of what she'd miss! Join me and say: "Eris! Are you crazy?! Don't go to work when you could have fun instead!" Thanks. I'm glad EVERYONE supports me on this.

Eris: Yeah but I need to pay BILLS. BILLs damnit, cannot call in sick. Gah. We will watch movie now. Movie good. Andy will post this in his blog now. Good. Eris so. veryily. drunk,..\

Monday, November 19, 2007

Where is Mr. Clean when you need him?

So tonight I get to spend the evening attemptin/pretending to clean my apartment (it is a bit hopeless right now) because I might have a guest coming to see me tomorrow. Just a wee bit stressed. There is no way to get this place in any kind of shape before I have to wake up at 5 tomorrow and work until 6:30. Ah well. At least this person won't call me to go out and then wait four hours to get ready.

So no big post tonight, I have a mop to hunt down. I don't even have Bacardi and cranberry juice to ease the ills of snazzing this place up. Do you think if I left the lights low he wouldn't notice the piles and piles of dirty clothes and dishes? No? Damnit.

Saturday, November 17, 2007


Someone please explain the dynamics of going out to me. Not on a date, but just out for the night. I've been ready and dressed since 6:00, I even put damn false eyelashes on, and my friend won't get here anytime before 10:00. Is this normal? I get it being normal in a town that doesn't suck and has an actual nightlife but certainly not here. Now I'm wasting a perfectly good pair of eyelashes. DAMNIT. I am never getting dressed up again, every time I do it sucks. Now I probably get to spend another awkward evening trying to find seats in a bar only to come home and be sad because I look nice for naught.


Thursday, November 15, 2007

I'm dreaming of a Silent Christmas; Or, Sleighbells Ring one more time and I'ma gonna get all crazy up in here

Let's compromise. I understand that the economy relies heavily on sales during this time of year, particularly holiday sales. I know that the name "Black Friday" for the shopping day after Thanksgiving does not refer to the sheer insanity of the entire nation piling into department stores and stabbing each other over sweater sales but rather to when accounting was done in ink and having your ledger balance represented by black rather than red meant you were finally out of the negative on your books. I've processed the message that consumerism stops terrorism and that buying name brand goods is the most patriotic thing I can do.

But you have made me hate Christmas music. And I hate the fact that Christmas goods are coming out in early September now and that stores are playing Christmas songs before the left over Halloween candy has had time to be marked down.

I can't handle two straight months of holiday tunes in every store I frequent.

I just can't.

It didn't used to be this way, therefore, I propose a solution; one that will keep me from boycotting this and all holiday seasons in the future and one that won't hurt your sales: Hold out on the damn Holiday items until six weeks before the appropriate holiday and NO FUCKING CHRISTMAS SONGS UNTIL DECEMBER FIRST. Is that too much to ask? I think not. Less is more my friends. Create demand. If diamonds paved the streets and came baked in bread they wouldn't be so damn precious would they? Make people want to buy your goods. Make people storm the stores at the end of November to snap up the precious goods you were keeping locked up until six weeks due time. I bet your sales will increase. The law of scarce goods and demand! My high school econ teacher was a drunken hippy who played Pink Floyd in ever single class and I still grasp the basics!

In trying to cram holiday cheer down my throat every year you have managed to instead motivate me to not buy a Christmas tree ever in my adult life, stop buying wrapping paper and use paper grocery bags instead, not buy any holiday themed crap whatsoever and punch every person I see carrying a red seasonal starbucks cup. That's right bitches, you're driving away a perfectly happy consumer.

I'm a single professional with a huge list of guilt gifts to buy. I'm the perfect demographic: young, free, and supposedly drowning in disposable income. Frankly you're just being fuckwits with the bloody Christmas crap out way too early and crammed in my face for way too long. You're doing this to a person who used to throw a huge carolling party every year. You've grinched me out and I can't be the only one. In an effort to somehow trick us into buying more I do believe you are creating a huge subset of people who are going to tell your singing Santa stuffed toys, out in time for labor day, to go Ho Ho Fuck themselves.

I see that it is only a matter of time before all holidays are conglomerated into a three month long Easter/Hanukkah/Stuff your fat face/toy orgy as foretold in Futurama. Which, whatever. Pick a decade to do it and put it on the books. Then I know which months to spend tending to my rock collection in Siberia. However, until said time I am doing all my shopping all the Dollar Store, the only retail outlet IN THE WHOLE CITY that hasn't already started in on the Christmas music bullshit. Granted, I'm going to be eating expired canned peaches and knock off candy (Tootsie Smolls) for the next couple of months but it is worth it just to not give any of you my business. If you won't comply with the plan layed out above you can bet that by next year I'll be growing tubers and grain in boxes on my balcony just to avoid having to shop in your horrid establishments for the quarter of a year in which you insist in covering your checkout stands in tinsel.

I think you'd be wise to listen to me. My argument is very clear, I offer a great compromise, and you don't want me taking more people with me. I have a blog people, I am obviously very important and influential. I also have matches and gasoline.

Either way, it is your choice. We don't want things to get ugly do we?

Monday, November 12, 2007

In Memory of

I thought of you often. Just the other day a memory of one of the stories you told popped in my head on the way home from work. I always thought that someday I would look you up but I thought you would think it was weird if the 16 year old punk you worked with, now grown up, tracked you down. I really enjoyed working with you. We bonded due to the lack of customers leaving us with hours to talk and I have always remembered each of your stories. You taught me about fear and loneliness and about hope and exhaustion. You showed me vulnerability and the infinite sadness that a human soul can carry, yet you were never truly down.

Our other co-worker found me and told me that you kept the pictures from so long ago; of my last day of work there, all of us smiling. It breaks my heart that I didn't keep in touch, even if I was worried you would think I was odd. Once upon a time I even had the thought that someday I would come back and find you, if you weren't doing well, and help you in any way I could. I thought there was time. I was certain our paths would meet again someday. They won't, not on earth, and I am sorry.

I always wished the best for you.

I am sorry you are gone.

I am sorry that life never treated you better.

I am sorry I missed your memorial.

I am sorry you went the way you did.

I am sorry that I will never get to see you again.

I am sorry.

I should have stayed in touch.

Goodbye. You were loved.

Friday, November 9, 2007

I wonder if they have adult themes shops in Saudi Arabia and if so, why are they looking me up?

May I just say, the comments from the last post rocked? The references to the phone being a portal out of the Matrix and the fact that someone remembered one of the best TV shows ever (I love you Pete and Pete!) made my day.

I love you guys. If only I could have you all over for bacardi cranberries and we could pummel the horn honker in the wee hours of the morning together.

But back to my regularly scheduled post.

Yesterday I was running an errand and wound up in a quaint, beautiful neighborhood. The streets were lined with adorable houses built before architecture got ugly, trees in full fall lustre with leaves blowing in the wind, real small town America sidewalks and a calm purple sky falling into sunset.

It felt very much like New England, or as I imagine it to feel like as I've never been. I paused to take in the serene scene as this is not something I get to see in my city. As I rotated to take in the full expanse of the beauty I noticed the huge neon sign less than one block over illuminating the dusk with the words "ADULT SEX...", the rest being cut off by a house. I realized that one street over is the seedy district filled with porn houses and sex shops. While I stood watching the sign flash its message to the night a guy came wandering up the sidewalk cursing and mumbling to himself. Being the only other person on the street, and in light of the fact that he was very big and very tweaked out, I took this as my cue to get the hell out of there.

Ah city living, such a joy.

I post this, of course, in full knowledge that the hits I've been getting from Saudi Arabia for "Quick Fast Fuc*ing" and "Blowjo* whores" are now only going to increase but that is the risk one takes in having a blog. Although, with all the sites dedicated to such things how the hell is google routing these people to this blog? I think they need to re-evaluate their web site search optimization, or perhaps I need to swear less. Still. The first hits I ever get from the middle east and they aren't what one would hope for. Much like my city the web is a mish mash of society; all pretty blog on one corner and seedy sex shops on the next.


*maybe if I don't type out the whole thing the hits will stop.

Thursday, November 8, 2007

The Phantom Ringing Phone

I have not had a land line in years. The room mate who left me high and dry and owing me a couple grand stopped paying our phone bill and left me with the debt, among others. I paid all that off and have done a good job rebuilding my credit but never needed a land line again until I needed the internet. I am now the proud owner of a phone number I can't remember for a phone line that will never be used for anything more than data. As an afterthought I plugged in a cheap analog phone when the line was installed and figured I would never think about it again.


Until the phone started ringing.

At first it was just around dinner time. Then it was daytime on the weekends. Then nights. Then 3am. I've since unplugged the bastard a few times. I've never answered it. No one knows the number and I've never given it out so I don't know who would be calling other than telemarketers or people looking for the person that the phone used to belong to. I don't need to hear from angry bill collectors or drunken exes, particularly when they aren't mine.

One would think that if I just left the phone unplugged the problem would go away. Naturally this is the easy solution so I leave the phone plugged in. I've never even considered answering it, I usually just watch it until it stops ringing; transfixed by the noise and distracted like a moth hypnotically drawn to light.

Telemarketers don't call at 3am so I'm pretty sure that something else is going on. What, I don't know. And I'll never know. Because I'm never answering it. It's much more fun to imagine scenarios. Maybe it is a portal to the dead. Maybe it is a confused yet bored millionaire who will give money to whom ever answers. Maybe it is punks pressing the buzzer outside the lobby because the land line is connected to the little phone outside that buzzes people in.

The phone was ringing when I walked in the door tonight. Per usual I stared at it until it stopped ringing and then went about my business.

I better register the number for the national do not call registry. That might help a bit.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

If you do that again I'm disconnecting the horn from the steering wheel and then your arm from your torso

I've pretty much loved my apartment the three plus years I've lived here.

For the first year I really didn't unpack and things were a hellish mess, I didn't even pull the furniture out of my hall for months; I just squeezed around it. I'm still not unpacked, or decorated, or organized, but each month it gets better. I've always felt mostly safe, which is hard for a single gal living alone, and I've not really had too much neighbor trouble.

The rent is okay. I have my own washer and dryer in my unit! The neighbor upstairs vacuumed every morning between 3 and 4 AM but I learned to find it comforting.

I still daydream about getting this place in order and having real people over and having a real dinner party, or cocktail party, or really, anything with real people. The only guest who I've ever really had over didn't scream in horror so I think I'm getting there.

I love the underground indoor parking, even if the garage looks like the setting in a horror movie before someone gets killed. I don't mind the spiders, the helicopter sweeps of my neighborhood, the pot smoking neighbors who sometimes make my house smell like a hippy camp or the view into a chiropractic office.

Suddenly, however, the neighborhood is getting even worse than it used to be. There is much more graffiti than usual, an upswing in stabbings, and now, every morning at 5AM, some JACKASS parks out on the street below my window and HONKS HIS DAMN HORN for what feels like hours but is really only TWENTY FREAKING MINUTES. Every. Morning. The hell?

This is sorta the last straw. I don't have a backyard, I've never been able to use our pool (no swimming alone!), my neighbors put things under my car to catch the oil when the cardboard was doing a damn fine job thankyouverymuch and occasionally people try to get into my apartment because they are too drunk/creepy to find their own. I mean, yeah, all the floors and doors do look the same but COME ON buddy, once is enough! But the early morning honking? Makes Eris Angry! Smash! Kill! Die! How rude do you have to be to honk the hell out of your horn before the sun is up?

Are you picking up a coworker?

Are you celebrating something?

Are you a flaming asshole who needs to be pummeled into a bloody pulp?

I run with the latter.

My lease is up in May. I don't know what will happen to me then. I don't know if I'll have enough money to leave this town and move on with my life. I don't know if I will even be given the option to re-up my lease. I don't know what I want to do, where I want to go or how I will do it. But I do know that the early morning honking has got to stop. I can handle the sirens all night long and the shootings across the street but the damned honking is where I draw the line.

Short of calling the police I don't know what to do. "Hello? 9-11? Yes, there is someone honking their horn. They do this every day. What's that? You're arresting me for calling in a non-emergency?" Great.

The title pretty much says it all.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Why must the sun shine on the other side of the globe now?

In the Northern Hemisphere it is dark. And by dark I mean DARK. At 4:30 pm. I don't handle this time of year so well in that, when it gets dark, my body says that it is late and I should be asleep. My body is then angry and confused when I explain no, there is this rotational thing with the earth and we need to go to the gym now. My body doesn't listen to me, which is disconcerting, because it is always demanding things like nacho cheese and pizza. Isn't my body supposed to be in tune with the earth? What with it being a biological substance and all? No? Well fine then.

It is 5:30 pm and I'm sitting in my pajamas drinking a glass of milk.

It is going to be a long winter.

I heard some lovely news about my old job, lovely in that the person who has my position now apparently swears really loud and punches things all day long and is *this* close to losing it. This is not good for the person who took my job but damn good for me as it is validation that I am not crazy, not hypersensitive and not deluded about how bad things really were. Looking back on some of my archives it feels like a horrid dream and I'm amazed I could work 7 days a week, 12 hours a day, be on call the other 12 hours a day and manage to make it as long as I did. My new job is so sweet that I'm counting my blessings hourly. I also noticed in my archives that my posts have been sorely lacking in frequency, or regularity. So. I'm going to do better on that. I'm not going all NaNoRamOBlamO on you or anything but I will be around more often.

Did you know I decided to start dating in sincerity again in JUNE? Yikes. It took me HOW LONG to get a date? Frightening. Here's to hoping that there is more where that one came from, I need to continue to meet new people, even if they are a bit touched in the head. Again, I can't judge a person's belief system but I can say that that person and I are not meant to be. Me? I don't believe that my car has feelings, but perhaps that is just because I fear a slippery slope. One day I'm treating my car to name bran gasoline and a wash and the next day I'm apologizing to my blender for not paying enough attention to it. Trouble people, trouble.

Monday, November 5, 2007

Post date update

Well then.

Date over.

We have nothing in common. He thinks cars are living beings. He almost cried, twice. He spent the whole time talking about himself, how his brother was the loved wonder child, how he has so much compassion for other people that he often cries, how he volunteers yet doesn't want people to know because that makes him a "boy scout", then he went on about his years as a boy scout. It was by no means bad, he was perfectly nice, but lordy. Not for me. I sortof have a thing with grown adults who can only eat certain foods and get sick at the sight of raw tomatoes. He was sweet and he paid but we are not compatible. Not that it matters: I'm back in the dating game! And I'd like to leave it again now, thanks.

I looked damn good though. I still look damn good. I don't want to take my makeup off or put my hair up, I want to feel nice looking just a bit longer.

He's so nice, I hope he finds someone soon. And maybe learns to not cry on first dates.

Oh, and I offered to pay but he insisted. He should have let me at least chip in.


Why am I so freaked out about a date? A simple little blind date? Okay, so this is my first blind date ever but STILL.

*little voice* I really hope he looks like Jim from the office.

or looks normal really.


Also, your comments from the last post told me that I should: let him pay (and order dessert damnit because I am worth it); offer to pay at the beginning; or, just pay because I am an independant woman. Thanks guys. I'm not confused at all.




We are meeting at the same place that I had my first date with my last serious boyfriend. Man, no bad vibes there.




Okay, must calm down and make self beautiful now.

Wish me luck.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Blindly going where pretty much everyone has gone before

Think skinny thoughts for me people! I have a date! Tomorrow!

I'll let you digest that for a bit.

You back?

Okay. It's a blind date, but I have talked with him on the phone and already plan on belly crawling out of the restaurant if he turns out super weird. Thing is, and I've realized this for awhile, I really really like be single. I like having my own space.

I'm not looking for Mister Right, or Mister Right Now. I'm just getting out there and being social.

That is a good thing.

Now the real question: Do I let the guy pay for the first date? What is the correct etiquette?